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Virgil Reading The Aeneid To Augustus, Octavia, And Livia, Painted By Jean-Baptiste Wicar (1762–1834)

This painting, by the French artist Jean-Baptiste Wicar (1762–1834), shows the poet, Virgil (c. 70-19 BCE), reading sections of his epic poem, The Aeneid, to the family of the Roman ruler, Augustus (r. 32/27 BCE-14 CE). Virgil is the man on the right side of the artwork, wearing tan and yellow garb. In the center of the painting, dressed in red, is the authoritarian ruler, Augustus. The fainting woman beside him, dressed with the purple and white cloth, is Octavia—Augustus’ sister. Supporting Octavia in the scene is likely Livia, the wife of the Roman ruler.

As the story goes, the fainting portrayed in this painting was caused by a section of Virgil’s poem that described the realms of the dead. In particular, Virgil had worked a reference to Octavia’s deceased son, Marcellus, into his account of the supernatural landscape, and when the line was narrated by the poet, it caused Octavia to momentarily lose consciousness.  The Roman biographer, Suetonius (c. 70-122+), described the incident in his Life of Virgil, claiming that when the poet was invited to perform his epic for Augustus and the imperial family, “Virgil read to him three books in all, the second, fourth, and sixth. The last of these produced a remarkable effect on Octavia, who was present at the reading; for it is said that when he reached the verses about her son, ‘Thou shalt be Marcellus,’ she fainted and was with difficulty revived” (Life of Virgil, section 32). Such is the scene that Jean-Baptiste Wicar re-created in his painting.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

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Confucius

Confucius (c. 551-479 BCE)

“From a gentleman consistency is expected, but not blind fidelity.”

  • The Analects of Confucius (Book XV, section 36) translated by Arthur Waley (Vintage Books, 1989).

Empress Theodora’s Palace For Troubled Women

Empress Theodora (r. 527-548) was a champion for women’s rights, at least by the low standards of the 6th-century. She worked with her husband, Emperor Justinian (r. 527-565), to reform laws concerning adultery and divorce in ways that gave women better treatment in legal battles, and she also gave brides more protections over the dowries they brought with them into a marriage. Theodora also made sure that rapists, as well as their accomplices and enablers, were eligible for the death penalty, and she encouraged efforts to root out sex trafficking and other forms of forced prostitution in the empire. The 6th-century historian, Procopius, described one major campaign that Theodora waged against such brothels that operated their businesses through slavery and compulsion. He wrote, “They cleansed the State from the pollution of these brothels, drove out the procurers, and set free these women who had been driven to evil courses by their poverty, providing them with a sufficient maintenance, and enabling them to live chaste as well as free” (Procopius, The Buildings, I.9). Procopius’s comment that the rescued women were given the chance to live a chaste and free-of-charge life was not a rhetorical trick. In fact, Theodora reportedly renovated a palace on the Anatolian side of the Bosporus Strait as a place for these women to live out a better life.

Procopius, in a second book called The Secret History, claimed that around 500 of the former prostitutes gained access to Theodora’s special home for troubled women. The catch, however, was that the empress set up the place to be a convent (curiously named Repentance), and therefore the rescued women staying there were required to live as chaste as nuns. Yet, in exchange for taking the vow of chastity, these women were reportedly able to live in an environment of extreme luxury. Procopius described the lavishness of the compound that Theodora and Justinian set aside for the former prostitutes, writing, “these Sovereigns have endowed this convent with an ample income of money, and have added many buildings most remarkable for their beauty and costliness, to serve as a consolation for the women, so that they should never be compelled to depart from the practice of virtue in any manner whatsoever” (Procopius, The Buildings, I.9). The luxury of the Repentance, nevertheless, was not enough to convince all of the rescued women to remain celibate and cloistered for the rest of their lives. According to Procopius’ Secret History, several of the 500 former prostitutes who were brought to the Repentance were later known to have run away from the compound so as to restart their lives on their own terms.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Byzantine mosaic in the Basilica of San Vitale, Ravenna, depicting Empress Theodora (6th century), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

 

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Image Of King Agesilaus II Of Sparta Leading Mercenaries In Egypt

This image, produced anonymously around 1914 for Hutchinson’s History of the Nations, illustrates the final chapter in the life of King Agesilaus II of Sparta (400 BCE-360/359 BCE). This king came to power at the height of Sparta’s golden age, and Agesilaus, himself, was a talented military leader who showed promise of being able to bring the Spartan military to even greater heights. Yet, such hopes would not be fulfilled. He had the misfortune of living at the same time as Epaminondas of Thebes, a brilliant general who defeated the Spartan army in a pitched battle at Leuctra (371 BCE) and laid siege to Sparta at least two times, in 370 BCE and 362 BCE. King Agesilaus II and the Spartans were eventually spared from this Theban scourge when Epaminondas received a mortal wound at the Second Battle of Mantinea in 362 BCE, but by then the damage was already done. After Epaminondas’ campaigns, Sparta’s carefully-crafted reputation of having a near-invincible army was shattered. Agesilaus, by that point an old man, did not sulk after his setbacks, but instead organized troops for one last military endeavor during his reign. As is hinted at by the image above, he brought his force to Egypt, where the old king and his downtrodden Spartans were reportedly not given a respectful welcome. The ancient biographer, Plutarch (c. 50-120), described how the elderly king’s awkward entry into Egypt might have played out:

“Agesilaus’ name and fame had aroused great interest and high expectations among Egyptians generally, and everyone thronged to catch a glimpse of him. When the sight proved to be nothing brilliant or elaborate, but a pathetic old man of slight build, wrapped in a coarse, shabby cloak, and lying on a patch of grass by the sea, they began to laugh and make fun of him, remarking that here was the perfect illustration of the saying about the mountain being in labour and then giving birth to a mouse” (Life of Agesilaus, chapter 36).

Agesilaus II reportedly arrived in Egypt around 360 BCE, when Tachos (or Zedhor) was in power. Although the Spartan king and his troops were ridiculed, the old ruler would soon show the Egyptians that he still had a spark left over from his glory days. During his stay in the region, Agesilaus was said to have helped Tachos’ cousin, Nectanebis (or Nectanebo II), successfully usurp power in Egypt. After helping the new pharaoh achieve the throne, Agesilaus set sail for home, but died before he reached Sparta. He was reportedly eighty-four years old. For more information and context about the reign of King Agesilaus II, read more of our articles about his reign, HERE.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

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Jonathan Swift

Jonathan Swift (c. 1667-1745)

“You have clearly proved that ignorance, idleness, and vice, are the proper ingredients for qualifying a legislator. That laws are best explained, interpreted, and applied by those whose interests and abilities lie in perverting, confounding, and eluding them.”

  • Gulliver’s Travels (Voyage to Brobdingnag, chapter 6) by Jonathan Swift. New York: Washington Square Press, 1970.

The Soap Opera Family Drama Of The Royal Family Of Hengshan

Liu Ci came from controversial roots and would continue the family drama into his own personal life. He was a grandson of the Han Dynasty’s founder, Emperor Gaozu (r. 202-195), through the emperor’s son, Liu Chang. It was a troubled branch of Gaozu’s large family from the start, for Liu Chang had allegedly been born from an imprisoned concubine, and he later died in custody while being sent into exile during the reign of Emperor Wen (r. 180-157 BCE). Liu Ci and other sons of Chang were given noble titles and lands after their father’s mysterious death on the road. Emperor Wen installed Liu Ci as the marquis of Zhouyang around 172 BCE, and later promoted him to become the king or prince of Lujiang around 164 BCE. Although the family had a questionable reputation, Liu Ci and his brothers did not join the unsuccessful Rebellion of Seven Kings that fought against Emperor Jing in 154, and therefore they retained their lands and titles. It was sometime after that rebellion that Liu Ci’s brother, Bo, died from natural causes. Following the death, Emperor Jing (r. 157-141 BCE) transferred Liu Ci away from Lujiang to take over the lands that Bo had been ruling in Hengshan. This new domain would be where Liu Ci would spend the rest of his life.

Liu Ci had a chaotic reign in Hengshan, troubled by infighting among his family and squabbles with local officials. On the family front, Liu Ci had multiple ambitious women in his life. His first queen was a woman named Chengshu, who provided Liu Ci with two power-hungry sons named Shuang and Xiao, as well as a head-strong daughter named Wucai. Ranked under Queen Chengshu were two prominent concubines, named Xulai and Jueji, who together provided six more children for Liu Ci. Of these six other children, only the name of one is known—Guang, the eldest son of Xulai. It was a cutthroat family environment, with the women plotting against each other for the king’s attention, while their sons similarly competed for the position of crown prince in their father’s realm.

Liu Ci and his family had the misfortune of living during the reign of Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE), a ruler whose policy was to restrict, diminish and dissolve the empire’s vassal kingdoms and princedoms whenever a chance happened to arise, so as to reform the land into centrally-controlled provinces. Liu Ci managed to stay under the proverbial radar for a time, but his luck eventually ran out. In 129 BCE, the central government investigated Liu Ci’s realm because of an argument between the king and his internal secretary.  As the story goes, Liu Ci had wanted an official in his realm to be charged with a crime, but the internal secretary dismissed the case, at which point Liu Ci brought charges against the insubordinate secretary. When the central government investigators arrived to settle the issue, Hengshan’s internal secretary lodged a counter-complaint against Liu Ci. The central authorities did not find any real crimes committed by the king, but to justify their time and to follow with the emperor’s centralization policies, the Han court used the moment to seize for itself the ability to choose which people held government appointments in Hengshan.

Deprived of their ability to pick and choose lower officials in the realm, the members of the royal household in Hengshan now had even more time to plot against each other. The machinations became even worse when Queen Chengshu died sometime in the first half of the 120s BCE. Xulai, one of the king’s concubines, became the new queen, igniting a new competition for the position of crown prince. Shauang and Xiao—sons of the late Queen Chengshu—were still eligible for the title, but now Queen Xulai’s eldest son, Guang, was also a contender in the race to become Liu Ci’s heir. Meanwhile, other concubines such as the aforementioned Jueji, were also doing their best to knock Xulai down a peg, hoping to find an opening for themselves and their sons to rise to prominence.

Shuang, the eldest of Liu Ci’s sons and the leader in the competition to become crown prince, had a bizarre relationship with his step-mother, Xulai. At times, he was extremely hostile to her, and he reportedly even sent someone to assassinate or beat up her mother in 125 BCE. Xulai’s mother was, indeed, supposedly injured, but she survived her wound and Shuang (after his involvement was discovered) was given a severe beating by Liu Ci. In another odd episode, Shuang allegedly decided to change tactics and was said to have attempted to seduce Queen Xulai. Yet, the new queen understandably had a deep dislike of Shuang, so she rejected the advances and reported it to Liu Ci, who, again, gave his son a severe beating. Queen Xulai, who was not too shabby in intrigue, allied herself with Shuang’s siblings, Xiao and Wucai. Shuang countered this by working together with the prominent concubine, Jueji, against the queen. Nevertheless, Xulai’s faction started to gain the advantage and, though she personally wanted her son Guang to be named heir, she was also more than willing to support Xiao over Shaung.

By 123 BCE, Shuang knew his status as heir of Hengshan was becoming questionable, with Xiao now becoming the likeliest contender. To regain ground, Shuang decided to make an extreme move—he wrote a letter to the emperor, accusing Xiao of having an affair with a dancer or maid employed by Liu Ci. As the story goes, other members of the royal family in Hengshan learned that Shuang had sent a letter to the central government, but they did not know what he had written. King Liu Ci, himself, apparently believed the letter to be much worse than it actually was, causing him to write his own letter to the emperor, in which he denounced his own son, Shuang, as a scoundrel and criminal. When the central government received these dueling letters, one by the eldest prince denouncing Xiao, and the other by the king lambasting Shuang, they decided to open another investigation into Hengshan.

Shuang and Liu Ci could not have chosen a worse time to send letters to the emperor. As mentioned before, Liu Ci and his brothers were always stigmatized with suspicions of rebellion. Sadly, just as the in-fighting royals of Hengshan were accusing each other of crimes, King Liu Ci’s brother, An (the ruler of Huainan), was accused of plotting rebellion and he committed suicide as legal pressure mounted against him. As Liu Ci and An were close, the central government suspected that the forces of Hengshan had been planning to join the rebellion, or at least had prior knowledge of the plot’s existence. Therefore, when Emperor Wu’s justice system announced investigations into Hengshan in 122 BCE, their inquiries were not simply about affairs and bickering brothers—instead the officials came with charges of rebellion.

As the story goes, the investigators spread a rumor that anyone who confessed willingly about their involvement with the plot would be pardoned and not punished. Xiao apparently trusted this statement and confessed that he had prior knowledge of the rebellion. Unfortunately, this confession likely caused the doom of his entire family. Soon after, Liu Ci’s palace was besieged to keep the king from escaping, and more law officials were dispatched to Hengshan to judge the doomed royal family of Hengshan. No mercy was shown. Emperor Wu’s Grand Historian and palace secretary, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), reported the gruesome fates of Liu Ci’s family:

“When the king heard of this [investigation], he cut his throat and died. Liu Xiao, because he had confessed on his own initiative, was pardoned from the accusation of revolt, instead he was tried on charges of having had illicit relations with one of his father’s maids and was executed in the market place. Queen Xulai was also accused of having killed the former queen, Chengshu, by black magic, while Crown Prince Liu Shuang was accused of having acted contrary to filial piety by reporting on his own father. Both were executed in the market place. All those who had taken part in the planned revolt with the king were executed along with their families” (Sima Qian, Shi ji 118).

Such was the fate of Liu Ci and his family in Hengshan. The entire family, in one way or another, was found guilty of something and executed. As usually happened after Emperor Wu had one of the kingdoms or princedoms in his empire purged, Liu Ci’s realm was dissolved and reorganized as a province that was controlled directly by the central government.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Mural from the Song Dynasty tomb of Zhao Daweng at Baisha in Yuxian, Henan, dated to 1099, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

 

Camillus And The Schoolmaster Of Falerii, Attributed To Domenico Corvi (c. 1721–1803)

This painting, attributed to the Italian artist Domenico Corvi (c. 1721–1803), re-creates an interesting tale from the life of Marcus Furius Camillus, a semi-legendary general and statesman from the Roman Republic. The scene is set during a Roman siege of Falerii that, according to tradition, occurred around the year 394 BCE. By the time the siege began, the rival cities had been at war for years, and Falerii’s defenses and stockpiled supplies allegedly had the potential to drag on the conflict for a long while more. Within the city of Falerii, so the story goes, was a schoolteacher who did not want to live through a drawn-out siege. To escape this fate, the educator allegedly hatched a plan to end the siege as quickly as possible. His plan, according to Roman tradition, was to round up the children of Falerii’s leaders and hand them over to Camillus, so that the Roman general could use them as leverage to force the besieged city to surrender. As told by the Roman sources, Falerii’s treacherous schoolmaster succeeded in his mission. He managed to march the kids right out of the gates of Falerii, through the outposts of the Roman army, and ushered the children straight to the headquarters of Marcus Furius Camillus. Yet, as is displayed in the painting above, the Roman general was said to have surprised the teacher with his response.

Camillus, despite having such great bargaining chips brought into his camp, was said to have refused to use the children as leverage. Instead, he expressed disgust at the schoolmaster’s dishonor and treachery. Livy (c. 59 BCE-17 CE), an ancient Roman historian, narrated the next chapter of the peculiar legend, stating, “Camillus had the traitor stripped and his hands tied behind his back; then, telling the boys to escort him home, gave each of them a stick with which to beat him back into town” (The History of Rome, 5.27). This act by Camillus, depicted in the painting above, was said to have impressed the people of Falerii and they subsequently began peace negotiations and agreed to become a tributary of Rome.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.

The Thousand And One Nights

The Thousand and One Nights
(a large collection of anonymously-authored stories of Indian, Persian and Arabian origin, compiled and edited between the 9th and 15th centuries)

“The writer perishes but what he writes
Remains recorded for all time.
Write only what you will be pleased to see
When the Day of Resurrection comes.”

  • This quote comes from the anonymously-composed The Thousand And One Nights (specifically The Story of the Second Dervish, which is in the overarching tale of The Porter and the Three Ladies). The translation used here is by Malcolm C. Lyons (Penguin Classics, 2010, 2019).

The Pirate Adventure Of Roman Envoys Heading To Delphi

When the Roman Republic conquered its major Tiber River rival, Veii, around the year 396 BCE, they were said to have created a magnificent golden bowl from a portion of the loot to serve as an offering for the Oracle at Delphi. Rome’s ongoing wars at the time delayed the mission of carrying the bowl to Greece by a period of a few years, but after the Romans forced Falerii to become a tributary in 394 BCE, Rome was freed up enough to finally organize their expedition to Delphi. As the story goes, the Romans chose three men to lead the delegation. Their names were Lucius Valerius, Lucius Sergius and Aulus Manlius. With the golden bowl in hand, this trio boarded a single warship, manned by a crew of an undisclosed size, and set sail along the coastline of Italy. They were presumably charting their course toward the Strait of Messina between Sicily and the Italian mainland, but this route quickly brought the poorly-protected envoys into danger.

As the single Roman warship pulled in toward the strait, they sailed too close to the Aeolian Islands, which lay just off the northeastern tip of Sicily. In those days, the Aeolian Islands were a haven for pirates, and, naturally, once the Roman ship was spotted, the pirates began chasing after it. Rome’s sailors could not out-sail the pirates in this instance, and the delegation’s ship was overtaken and captured. With the hunt now over, the victorious pirates hauled the Roman ship, crew, and offerings back to their headquarters in the Aeolian Islands.  Their destination was Lipari, the largest of the islands in the group.

Once the pirates had anchored in a friendly harbor, they began sifting through the plunder and questioning the captives. The answers that they received from the Roman envoys, however, reportedly troubled the pirates. Lipari, as it happened, was a Greek colony, and the pirates there began to wonder if the loot from the delegation ship was worth angering the god, Apollo, and the religious hub of Delphi. As the story goes, the local leader of the community at that time—a certain Timasitheus—decided that he would much rather help the Roman envoys instead of continuing to hinder them, which could risk drawing the ire of the gods.

In a dramatic about-face, Timasitheus, was said to have freed the Roman prisoners, instructed the people of Lipari to treat them with honor, and offered to turn his pirate fleet into an armed escort to guard the Romans during their journey to and from Delphi. As told by the Roman historian Livy (c. 59 BCE-17 CE), Timasitheus “was able to entertain the three envoys as guests of the State, convoy them to Delphi, and ensure their safe return to Rome” (The History of Rome, 5.28). Timasitheus’ helpful change of heart was reportedly greatly rewarded when the envoys reentered Rome and told the city of their adventure. Livy continued the story, claiming, “In recognition of this act he was made, by decree of the Senate, an Honorary Guest of the Roman People—not to mention other and more tangible rewards” (History of Rome, 5.28). According to another ancient source, Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE), the story of Timasitheus was very much still alive in the minds of Romans during the era of the Punic Wars, for special treatment was allegedly given to descendants of Timasitheus when the Romans eventually conquered Lipari.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Ship on a stamp from the Republic of San Marino, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

 

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Themel the Priest, Illustrated In The 12th-century Skylitzes Matritensis Manuscript

This curious image comes from the 12-century Skylitzes Matritensis manuscript of the Synopsis Historion by John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101). The scene above features a peculiar priest of Herakleos named Themel, who became caught up in the wars between Emperor Constantine VII of Constantinople (sole rule 945-959) and Emir Sayf al-Dawla of Aleppo (r. 945-967). Themel’s time in the limelight came when marauders coming from the direction of Aleppo or Tarsus appeared in Herakleos. The priest, it was said, grabbed a sturdy beam instrument called a semantron, and used it to bludgeon the raiders away from the town. John Skylitzes narrated the tale in his history, writing, “A priest named Themel was offering the unbloody sacrifice when he learnt that the Saracens were approaching. He interrupted his liturgy and went out in the vestments he was wearing, seized the church’s semantron in his hands and repelled the attackers with it. He wounded many, killed a few and put the rest to flight” (Synopsis Historion, section about the sole rule of Constantine VII, chapter 8). Although this tale, re-created in the artwork above, portrays Themel as a militant champion for Christianity, he would turn out to have a much different fate. As the story goes, he eventually defected to Constantinople’s enemies and renounced his faith.  For more on the bizarre adventure of Themel, read our article HERE.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • A Synopsis of Byzantine History by John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101), translated by John Wortley (Cambridge University Press, 2010).