Home Blog Page 162

Aeneas and the Cumaean Sibyl, by François Perrier (c. 1594–1649)

In the painting above, the French artist François Perrier (c. 1594–1649) re-created a scene from book 6 of The Aeneid, an epic poem written by the Roman poet, Virgil. Center stage in the painting, dressed in the golden-yellow armor, is a depiction of the Trojan refugee, Aeneas, who was said to have fled to Italy after the Trojan War, where he began a lineage that would eventually produce Romulus and Remus, the legendary founders of Rome. During his adventures, Aeneas met with the Cumaean Sibyl—shown on the right side of the painting, dressed in white. Sibyls and other prophetess types, such as the mystic women who plied their trade at Delphi, were often a particularly erratic and flamboyant cast of characters, sure to shock their visitors with exaggerated body gestures and barrages of cryptic messages from the beyond. The Cumaean Sibyl was no different, and the poet Virgil masterfully captured her strangeness in the following passage from The Aeneid, which colorfully describes the sibyl’s transformation as she began her ceremony for Aeneas and his followers:

“Now carved out of the rocky flanks of Cumae
lies an enormous cavern pierced by a hundred tunnels,
a hundred mouths with as many voices rushing out,
the Sibyl’s rapt replies. They had just gained
the sacred sill when the virgin cries aloud:
‘Now is the time to ask your fate to speak!
The god, look, the god!’

So she cries before
the entrance—suddenly all her features, all
her color changes, her braided hair flies loose
and her breast heaves, her heart bursts with frenzy,
she seems to rise in height, the ring of her voice no longer
human—the breath, the power of god comes closer, closer.”
(Virgil, The Aeneid, book 6, approx. lines 50-70)

Such is the scene that François Perrier captured on canvas. Aeneas’ experience alongside the Cumaean Sibyl would only become stranger after this opening transformation at the entrance of the cavern. She would soon lead Aeneas on a tour through the underworld.

 

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • The Aeneid by Virgil, translated by Robert Fagles. New York: Penguin Classics, 2006.

Sima Xiangru

Sima Xiangru (c. 179-117 BCE)

“Misfortune often lurks in the shadowy darkness and springs forth when men are off their guard.”

  • This quote comes from a memorial written by Sima Xiangru in protest against Emperor Wu’s unsafe hunting habits. It was included in the Records of the Grand Historian (Shi Ji, 117) by Sima Qian. Translated by Burton Watson (Columbia University Press, 1993).

Empress Theodora Was Reportedly Very Fond Of Baths And Naps

Ah, the luxury of hot water! Ever since the magic of warm and soothing water was discovered by humanity long, long ago, cultures the world over have cherished the pleasant experience of relaxing in a bath. It was then as it is today—and all classes of society, from rich to poor, can agree on the greatness of baths, in all their various forms.  If you, too, love soaking in a bath, then you have something in common with the mightiest woman of 6th-century Europe—Empress Theodora (r. 527-548).

Theodora was the other half (perhaps the better half) to Emperor Justinian of Constantinople (r. 527-565). Theirs was a true love story, as Justinian went against his family and even changed the laws of the land so that he could marry Theodora, who had a disreputable background as an actress who allegedly dabbled in adult entertainment, and such actresses had been banned from marrying men of Constantinople’s senatorial rank up to that point in time. Despite the resistance to their love, Theodora became Justinian’s mistress, then his wife, and finally his empress.

Although Empress Theodora left her career in acting and entertainment behind for her new life as a royal, she nevertheless continued the strict beauty upkeep regimen that had made her a star on stage. According to the 6th-century historian, Procopius, the empress’ secrets to her emperor-attracting looks was her love of bathing, accompanied by plenty of beauty sleep and a hearty diet. Procopius, in his often libelously critical Secret History, wrote of the empress’ bathing habits, saying “To her bodily needs she devoted quite unnecessary attention, though never enough to satisfy her. She was in a great hurry to get into her bath, and very unwilling to get out again.” (Secret History, chapter 14). Similarly, Procopius commented with much exaggeration on the empresses’ reported napping habits, claiming “Again and again she would sleep for hours on end, by day till nightfall and by night till sunrise” (Secret History, chapter 14). It was good to be the empress.

Theodora remained by Emperor Justinian’s side until her early death by cancer or some other illness in 548. Justinian would continue to rule Constantinople and its empire until his own death in 565. He never remarried, and Justinian’s reign was far less productive in the absence of Theodora.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Mosaic from the Basilique Saint-Vital de Ravenne, c. 547, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and pxhere.com).

 

Sources:

Lewis & Clark [and Sacagawea] at Three Forks, painted by Edgar Samuel Paxson (1852–1919)

In this artwork, Edgar Samuel Paxson (1852–1919) depicts three famous explorers who trekked westward across the North American continent to reach Oregon and the Pacific Ocean. On the left, the two men holding firearms, are representations of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, who began their adventure at the behest of President Thomas Jefferson in 1804. When the winter joining 1804 and 1805 arrived, the Lewis and Clark expedition camped at a place they called Fort Mandan, named after the Mandan-Hidatsa people who had a village nearby. It was there that Lewis and Clark met the third figure in the painting—Sacagawea. She was born a Shoshone, but by the time Lewis and Clark arrived, she had been captured in a raid and was sold as a wife (one of several) to a French-Canadian fur trapper named Toussaint Charbonneau, who was operating around the Mandan-Hidatsa village.

William Clark, in a journal entry for mid-November, 1804, wrote that the polygamous Frenchman’s wives visited the fort that winter. He stated (in his own imperfect 19th-century style), “two Squars of the Rock Mountain, purchased by a frenchman Came down” (William Clark, journal entry for November 11, 1804). Soon after, Lewis and Clark would hire Charbonneau (spelled by them variously as Charbono or Shabonah) as an interpreter, a decision that consequently also brought Sacagawea (toting a newborn son along with her) into the expedition. They would soon find that Sacagawea was a far more valuable guide and translator than her husband. Interestingly, William Clark did not record Sacagawea’s name in his journal until April 7, 1805, jotting it down almost as an afterthought following a list of names for the expedition members present at the time. He wrote, “Shabonah and his Indian Squar to act as an Interpreter & Interpretress for the snake Indians—one Mandan & Shabonah’s infant. Sah-kah-gar we a” (William Clark, journal entry for April 7, 1805).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

Lucan

Lucan (c. 39-65)

“The Madness of war is upon us, the power of iron,
the fist, will confound all justice, and wicked crimes
will be called virtue—and this fury will continue
for many years. What use to beg the gods for an end of it?
Peace comes with a tyrant.”

  • From Lucan’s Civil War (Book I, between lines 710-720), translated by Matthew Fox (Penguin Classics, 2012).

Rome’s Underwhelming First Reaction To Carthage’s First Meddling In Sicily

Ancient Romans and Carthaginians had known of each other for centuries before they ultimately clashed in the fateful Punic Wars of the 3rd and 2nd centuries BCE. The governments of the two cultures were known to have interacted as early as 507 BCE, when both agreed to a mutual treaty for peace and trade. This document, witnessed by the historian Polybius (210-131 BCE), included a promise that the Romans would behave themselves around Carthaginian ports in Libya and Sardinia, in exchange for Carthage staying clear of all Latin lands.

In those earliest days of the burgeoning Roman state, apparently neither Rome nor Carthage considered Sicily to be within Rome’s sphere of influence, and the Carthaginian presence in Sicily caused no eyebrows to be raised among the Roman senators. Although Carthaginians (or at least Phoenicians related to them) were already battling against Greeks for control of Sicily in the 6th and 5th century BCE, the ancient Romans paid little, if any, attention to Carthage’s operations on the large island.

Livy, a Roman historian who lived from 59 BCE to 17 CE, was visibly baffled and amused with his early Republic ancestors’ inability to recognize the threat posed by Carthage. According to Livy’s sources, Rome only began to make records about the increasing Carthaginian involvement in the events of Sicily as late as 431 BCE, during the consulships of Titus Quinctius Cincinnatus and Cnaeus Julius Mento—and from whatever document the historian was reading, the ancient Romans showed no concern about Carthage’s actions. Livy wrote, “the Carthaginians—destined one day to be our bitterest enemies—crossed for the first time into Sicily to take sides in a local dispute. This seemed at the time to have no significance for Rome!” (History of Rome, 4.29). For the sake of clarity, it should be restated that Livy was wrong to say that 431 BCE was the first time Carthage made a foothold in Sicily, because the Phoenicians had been on the island for decades by that point. Yet, the mistake by Livy or his source only adds further light to how little thought Rome paid to Carthage’s earliest expansion into Sicily.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Decline of the Carthaginian Empire, by Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775–1851), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

 

Sources:

Illustration Of Pope Sylvester II And The Devil From The Chronicon Pontificum Et Imperatorum

This curious image comes from a 15th-century manuscript of the Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum (Chronicle of the Popes and Emperors), originally written by Martinus Oppaviensis (d. 1278 or 1279). Featured in this image are the juxtaposed figures of Pope Sylvester II (on the left, of course) and the Devil (on the right). Intriguing tales and legends about the pontificate’s reign inspired this odd drawing. As is shown in the image, Sylvester II (r. 999-1003) was said to have been able to communicate with the Devil and compel the demonic being to do certain tasks, such as foretelling the future. One such tale about the pontiff was recorded by a Norman-English monk named Orderic Vitalis (c. 1075-1142), who wrote, “It is related that when Gerbert [i.e. Sylvester’s name before he became pope] was master of a school, he had a conference with the devil, and inquired of him what his future career was to be. He immediately received the following ambiguous answer:—Translated from R, you still will be R, and as pope shall be R” (Ecclesiastical History of England and Normandy, I.24). This prophesy was deemed to be accurate, for Gilbert/Sylvester held three ‘R’ titles during his life: Archbishop of Rheims (r. 991-997), Archbishop of Ravenna (r. 998-999), and Pope of Rome (999-1003).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Bhagavad Gita

 

The Bhagavad Gita (dated between the 2nd century BCE and 2nd century CE)

“Your authority is
in action alone,
and never
in its fruits;
motive should never be
in the fruits of action,
nor should you cling
to inaction.”

  • This quote is from discourse/chapter 2, verse 47 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 Unsubtle Escape Attempt Of The Aztec Emperor, Cuauhtémoc

In late December, 1520, Hernan Cortes began his second march toward the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan, engaging first in campaigns against the cities around the lake-bound capital, before dividing his troops into separate camps to besiege Tenochtitlan, itself, by 1521. During the months-long siege, the conquistadors camped on the various causeways leading into the capital, and engaged in frequent and continuous skirmishes with Aztec defenders as the battle for the city progressed. Aiding the Spanish siege camps was a makeshift navy that Hernan Cortes had constructed before committing to the assault—this fleet was given several tasks, including anti-smuggling operations at night and battle assistance during the day. By launching unrelenting attacks by land and lake, the conquistadors steadily forced their way ever inward into the Aztec capital. Emperor Cuauhtémoc of the Aztecs, as his territory was whittled away, retreated to a residential district near the great Tlatelolco market. Within this final stronghold, as it dawned on the emperor that the fall of Tenochtitlan was inevitable, the Aztec ruler began planning one last maneuver. It was an escape attempt that he had on his mind. His plan, however, was an odd and ultimately ineffective debacle.

As Tenochtitlan and the Tlatelolco market area was surrounded by canals and lake water, Emperor Cuauhtémoc decided that his best route for escape was by boat. Sure, Hernan Cortes had several gun-equipped patrol ships on the lake, but that seemed like a more permeable target than the hundreds of well-armed conquistadors on the causeways, who were additionally backed up by thousands of native allies. Therefore, the Aztec emperor began gathering up every single lake-worthy vessel that was available to him from the residential district, and had his followers load all of his favorite belongings onto one of the most ornate ships. Once the preparations were complete, Cuauhtémoc needed only board his ship with his family and then escape at an opportune moment. Yet, the Aztec leader employed no subtlety, at all, during his last-ditch effort at escape. Instead, he set sail from his final stronghold at a time when the besieging conquistadors were fully vigilant. Hernan Cortes’ patrol ships were floating nearby in the canals and waterways around the residential area when the Aztec ruler tried to flee, and it was little trouble for them to pursue and locate the doomed emperor.  One of the conquistadors at the scene, Bernal Díaz del Castillo, described the odd scene:

“These people embarked in their fifty canoes, in which they already placed Guatemoc’s [aka Cuauhtémoc] property, gold, and jewels, and all his family and women. Then he himself embarked and shot out into the lake, accompanied by many captains. At the same moment many more canoes set out, and soon the lake was full of them…It pleased our Lord God that Garcia Holguin should overtake Guatemoc’s fleet, which by its rich decorations, its awnings, and royal seat he recognized as the raft in which the Lord of Mexico was traveling” (Bernal Díaz, Conquest of New Spain, vol. II, chapter 156).

With the Spanish ships closing in, and their canon and other firearms trained in his direction, Cuauhtémoc ultimately decided to surrender. This capitulation reportedly occurred on August 13, 1521.  The captured Aztec emperor was brought before Hernan Cortes, who initially treated his captive well. This honorable treatment, however, did not last. Cuauhtémoc was eventually tortured and finally executed by 1522.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (17th century painting by Miguel Gonzales inspired by the adventure of Hernan Cortes in the land of the Aztecs, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

 

Sources:

 

Varusschlacht (The Battle Of Varus), By Otto Albert Koch (c. 1866–1920)

In the painting above, the German painter Otto Albert Koch (c. 1866–1920), brought to life his vision of the famous clash between the Roman military leader, Publius Quinctilius Varus, and an ancient Germanic coalition led by Arminius, chief of the Cherusci.  The image takes inspiration from the devastating ambush that Arminius launched against Varus’ three legions at Teutoburg Forest in 9 CE. Varus and his Roman legions were annihilated, and when news of the massacre reached Rome, the scale of the disaster made the usually calm and collected Augustus have a rare incident of losing his cool. The Roman historian, Cassius Dio (c. 163-235), recounted the scene, writing, “At the time when Augustus learned of the disaster which had befallen Varus, he rent his clothes, according to some reports, and was overcome with grief” (The Roman History, 56.23). An even earlier Roman scholar, Suetonius (70-130+), wrote a more dramatic account of Augustus’ reaction to the news, saying, “it is said that he took the disaster so deeply to heart that he left his hair and beard untrimmed for months; he would often beat his head on a door, shouting, ‘Quinctilius Varus, give me back my legions!’” (Twelve Caesars, Divus Augustus, 23). As can be ascertained by Augustus’ reaction, the victory of Arminius over the Roman legions crushed Rome’s hopes of establishing any permanent influence east of the Rhine, and the massacre also dealt a major psychological blow to Roman military pride.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources: