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Lucan

By
thehistorianshut
-

Lucan (c. 39-65)

“When faith and duty
desert, and our last hope is immorality,
let discord put an end to civil war.”

  • From Lucan’s Civil War (Book 5, between approximately lines 310-315), translated by Matthew Fox (Penguin Classics, 2012).

The Holy Dictatorship Of Publius Valerius Publicola

By
thehistorianshut
-

In the early centuries of the ancient Roman Republic, the people of Rome frequently relied on dictatorships to survive against existential threats. Early Republic dictatorships such as these traditionally lasted about six months, during which time Rome hopefully overcame the crisis it faced. Yet, the ancient Romans seemed to have had a broad definition for what qualified as an existential threat or crisis. If Rome was fighting a complicated war on multiple fronts, the early Romans might declare a dictatorship. If a hostile army or large rogue raiding party unexpectedly entered Roman territory, the early Romans might declare a dictatorship. If the plebeians were becoming too unruly at home around election time, early Romans might declare a dictatorship. These were common reasons for the Roman Republic to appoint dictators during the first couple centuries of its existence. A man named Publius Valerius Publicola, however, was proclaimed a dictator for a much more unique reason—he was given dictatorial power so that he could lead Rome and its neighbors in celebrating a holiday.

The year was 344 BCE, and the people of Rome at that time were reportedly experiencing ominous signs of extreme divine displeasure toward the Romans. As told by the Roman historian, Livy (c. 59 BCE-17 CE), “a shower of stones rained down and darkness spread over the sky in the daytime. The Books were consulted and, as the City was full of religious forebodings, the Senate decided to appoint a dictator to arrange a public holiday for religious observance” (Livy, Roman History, 7.28). Such was the mission that Publius Valerius Publicola was tasked with during his dictatorship.

Although the dictator’s goals here did not directly involve the military, he did apparently employ force at various times to further his religious objectives. For one, he and his allies in the Roman government reportedly carried out a crackdown on businesses that the gods supposedly found displeasing, such as moneylending. And since, as Livy claimed, “It was agreed that not only the Roman tribes but also neighboring peoples should offer supplication…” (Roman History, 7.28), Publius Valerius Publicola might have needed to call out the military to compel non-compliant cities to join the holiday celebrations.

Unfortunately, no more details about the dictator’s religious holiday were recorded. Similarly, no record was made on if the divine omens and signs improved in Rome after the celebration. Whatever the case, the dictatorship came to an end, and Publius Valerius Publicola relinquished his power.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Triumph of Marius, painted by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo (c. 1696–1770), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the MET).

 

Sources:

  • The History of Rome (Rome and Italy) by Livy, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1982.

Magnanimity Of Scipio, Painted By Gerard Hoet (c. 1648-1733)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting, by the Dutch artist Gerard Hoet (c. 1648-1733), re-creates a legend that was said to have occurred in Spain around the year 209 BCE. At that time, Rome and Carthage were clashing in the Second Punic War (c. 218-201 BCE), and a new Roman general named Publius Cornelius Scipio was beginning to gain momentum in Spain. Around that year (209 BCE), Scipio was able to conquer the city of New Carthage. During this siege and other similar battles, Scipio came into the possession of a great many captives, and it was in Scipio’s reported treatment of these prisoners that the seed of a legend took root. Although it was sadly not uncommon for prisoners and civilians under occupation to be faced with horrors and atrocities in the ancient world, Publius Cornelius Scipio was said to have decided to try kindness for a change. As told by the Greek historian Polybius (c. 200-118 BCE), “In Spain Publius Scipio, the Roman Commander, was spending the winter at Tarraco, and there his first achievement was to win the trust and friendship of the Spaniards by restoring the hostages to their various families” (Polybius, The Histories, 10.34). Gerard Hoet’s painting involves one particular captive that Scipio freed in Spain.

Unfortunately, the name of the captive at the heart of this legend remained unknown—only her looks and her connections were remembered by history. As the story goes, our mystery woman was the ultimate embodiment of feminine beauty, and she had been engaged to marry a certain Celtiberian chieftain, named Allucius, when she had the misfortune of falling into the hands of a Roman army. Describing the captive’s appearance, the Roman historian Livy (59 BCE-17 CE) wrote, “She was a young girl and so beautiful that everyone turned to look at her wherever she went” (Livy, Roman History, 26.50). Unfortunately, not all of these roving eyes had good wishes or intentions. The endangered captive’s parents and fiancée knew the danger that the young woman was in, and their concerns were likely not alleviated when they learned that the Roman general, himself, had taken special interest in her. But, in this case, their fears were thankfully unfounded.

Scipio, after investigating the background of the woman, reportedly came up with a plan that was both benevolent and beneficial to Rome’s political and military interests. According to the tale, Scipio invited the captive woman’s family and significant other to the Roman military camp and then proceeded to shock them all with kindness and generosity. Livy described the chaotic scene:

“Then the parents and relatives of the girl were sent for. They had brought with them a weight of gold sufficient for her ransom, and when they found she was being restored to them for nothing, they begged Scipio to take the treasure as a gift, declaring that they would be as grateful for his acceptance as they were for the restoration of the girl in her virgin innocence. In reply to their urgent treaties Scipio agreed to take it; then, having asked for it to be laid at his feet, he called Allucius and told him to take the gold and keep it for his own, saying ‘This is my wedding present, to be added to the dowry you will receive from your bride’s father” (Livy, Roman History, 26.50).

It is this tale that is re-created in the painting above. The unnamed beautiful captive is seen standing on the right side of the canvas. She looks across at her parents and relatives, who are presenting treasures that they hoped would pay for their loved one’s freedom. Publius Cornelius Scipio, however, refuses the wealth and instead frees the woman, free of charge. Allucius, thankful for the mercy and generosity that was shown, would later reportedly bring a warband of around 1,400 cavalry to aid the Romans. As for Publius Cornelius Scipio, he would continue battling the Carthaginians, ultimately defeating Hannibal at the Battle of Zama in 202 BCE. Not long after the battle, Carthage capitulated to the Romans and the victorious general received a new name—Scipio Africanus.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Hilltop Battle Of Consul Popilius Of Rome Against A Gallic Army

By
thehistorianshut
-

According to the Roman historian, Livy (c. 59 BCE-17 CE), a Gallic warband wandered into Roman territory around 350 BCE, which caused alarm in the city of Rome. Such sporadic appearances of Gallic troops were a recurring problem for the Romans in the 4th century BCE, with the most famous incident being the Gallic Sack of Rome, which occurred sometime between 390 and 386 BCE. Understandably, the Sack of Rome caused the Romans to take much more seriously any news that arrived of nearby Gallic armies. In order to prevent another Gallic Sack of Rome from happening, the Romans decided to proactively engage any Gallic warbands that traveled too close to Roman territory, hopefully keeping the carnage in far-off fields of battle. Returning to the events of 350 BCE, when Rome learned that yet another Gallic warband had wandered too close for comfort, the Romans decided to employ the proactive seek-and-destroy policy that they had, by then, been using against Gallic armies for decades.

Marcus Popilius Laenas (one of Rome’s two consuls at the time) was put in charge of organizing and leading the Roman military response to the Gallic army. As the story goes, he pulled together four legions and set off to confront the invaders, who were camped in the vicinity of a place known as the Alban Citadel. When Consul Popilius arrived in the mountainous region, he claimed a hilltop for himself and began fortifying the slopes in view of the Gallic camp. As the story goes, the nearby Gauls perceived the Roman Consul’s decision to take a defensive stance on the hill as a sign of weakness or cowardice. Alternatively, maybe the Gallic commander believed the Romans would be distracted while they focused on setting up their camp.  Propelled by these interpretations, the unknown leader of the Gallic warband decided to go on the attack, and he sent his troops charging up the hill against the Romans while they were still building their hilltop fortifications.

Unfortunately, the leader of the Guals misjudged the ability of the Romans to multitask—for, despite their divided attention, the vast majority of Consul Popilius’ army was battle-ready when the assault began. Additionally, the Gallic commander also undervalued the often-clichéd, but quite deadly, advantage of the high ground. Therefore, although a portion of the Roman army was indeed distracted, the rest of the force was prepared for a fight and would be defending on highly favorable terrain. The aforementioned Roman historian, Livy, described the battle that reportedly occurred on the hillside that day:

“Without interrupting their work, on which the soldiers of the third line were engaged, the Romans opened the battle with their first and second lines who stood armed and ready for action in front of the working-party. In addition to their fighting spirit they had the further advantage of the rising ground, so that their javelins and spears did not fall without effect, as often happens when thrown on level ground, but were kept on course by their own weight, and all found their mark” (Livy, History of Rome, 7.23).

Consul Popilius and his legions easily fended off the Gallic charge, and the Romans quickly counter-attacked, fighting downhill against the wavering foe. The battle moved from the hillside slope to the plains below, where the Gallic troops were trying to regain some sense of order. Consul Popilius, once he reached the plains, briefly halted his army’s advance long enough to make sure that his troops were still well-ordered and cohesive; then, he gave his men a quick battle-speech and sent them off against the remnants of the Gallic army. Livy wrote, “Roused to further action by such stirring words, the Romans pushed back the leading maniples of the Gauls and then broke through to the main army in wedge formation” (Livy, History of Rome, 7.24). Before long, the Gallic warriors lost the will to fight and they began to scatter from the battlefield. The fleeing warriors of the warband abandoned their previous camp and instead seemed to head in the direction of the nearby Alban Citadel landmark. Consul Popilius considered pursuing the remnants of the vanquished foe, but as many of the Roman troops were wounded (including himself), Popilius and the legions instead opted to loot the deserted Gallic camp. Once the pillaging was complete, Marcus Popilius Laenas and his army returned home. After recovering from his battle wounds, Popilius was honored with a triumphal celebration in Rome in honor of his victory over the Gallic army.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Roman Commander Ordering Attack, attributed to Pietro da Cortona (c. 1596-1669), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Art Institute of Chicago).

 

Sources:

  • The History of Rome (Rome and Italy) by Livy, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1982.

The Battle of Zama, By An Unknown 16th-century Artist

By
thehistorianshut
-

This curious painting was created by an unidentified 16th-century artist from the Netherlands. The anonymous artist either copied this scene from a work by the Italian painter, Giulio Romano (d. 1546), or instead referenced a print of Romano’s work that was created by the Dutch printmaker, Cornelis Cort (c. 1533-1578). Whatever the case, all of the artworks (be them originals, prints, or hand-painted copies) drew inspiration from the Battle of Zama, which was fought between Rome and Carthage in the year 202 BCE.

Leading the Roman forces at that time was a man named Publius Cornelius Scipio. He landed tens-of-thousands of Roman warriors in North Africa around 204 BCE to take the fight directly to Carthage in the closing years of the Second Punic War. Meanwhile, Hannibal Barca—Carthage’s brilliant general—was still menacing the Italian countryside, as he had been doing since 218 BCE. Hannibal’s sojourn in Italy, however, came to a close in 203 BCE, when he was called back to Africa to defend the heartland of Carthage against Scipio’s campaigns. Unfortunately for Hannibal, his recall put him on a reactive footing, allowing for Scipio and the Romans to position themselves on favorable terrain and to steer the course of the warfare to come. Additionally, the Romans and their Numidian allies at that time had a steep cavalry advantage over the Carthaginians—a weakness that Hannibal attempted to sure up with unruly war elephants. Despite the different numbers of horses and elephants, the Roman and Carthaginian forces were said to have been quite equal in manpower when they eventually met face to face at the Battle of Zama in 202 BCE.

A Roman historian named Livy (59 BCE-17 CE) dramatically described the scale and consequential nature of the battle: “[T]o decide this great issue, the two most famous generals and the two mightiest armies of the two wealthiest nations in the world advanced to battle, doomed either to crown or to destroy the many triumphs each had won in the past” (Livy, Roman History, 30.32). In the ensuing showdown, Scipio’s cavalry advantage proved vital, whereas Hannibal’s elephants apparently did less harm to the Romans than they did to his own army. The Greek historian, Polybius (c. 200-118 BCE), described the battle:

“Since they were equally matched not only in numbers but also in courage, in warlike spirit and in weapons, the issue hung for a long while in the balance. Many fell on both sides, fighting with fierce determination where they stood, but at length the [Roman aligned] squadrons of Masinissa and Laelius returned from their pursuit of the Carthaginian cavalry and arrived by a stroke of fortune at the crucial moment. When they charged Hannibal’s troops from the rear, the greater number of his men were cut down in their ranks, while of those who took to flight only a few escaped…” (Polybius, The Histories, 15.14).

Hannibal was one of the Carthaginians who lived to fight another day. Yet, after Zama, Carthage was compelled to sue for peace with Rome. In the ensuing negotiations, Carthage was forced to dismantle its navy, pay hefty quantities of war reparations, and formally cede Carthaginian territory in Spain to the control of the Romans. Such is the history behind the artwork featured above.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Victory Of Women With The Legendary Spartan Lawgiver, Lycurgus

By
thehistorianshut
-

Lycurgus was a legendary figure attributed with shaping ancient Sparta’s laws and society sometime between the 9th and 6th century BCE. The most famous ‘Spartan’ reforms attributed to him were Sparta’s rejection of excess luxury and its increased attention to militancy. Yet, Lycurgus also stood out from fellow ancient Greek lawgivers by allowing women more freedoms and openness in Spartan society. Lycurgus’ philosophical rivals in Athens, however, did not agree with the level of autonomy and status that was given to women in Sparta.

Curiously, famous philosophers in Athens, such as Plato (c. 427-347 BCE) and Aristotle (384-322 BCE), went on the attack against Lycurgus over the issue of uncontrolled women. Plato questioned Lycurgus’ drive and conviction, stating, “The lawgiver ought to be whole-hearted, not half-hearted—letting the female sex indulge in luxury and expense and disorderly ways of life, while supervising the male sex” (Plato, Laws, Bekker page 806). As for Aristotle, he proposed for his non-Spartan audience that Lycurgus had planned to restrict the freedoms of women all along, but that the lawgiver had hesitated when the Spartan women began to resist his laws. Aristotle wrote, “It is said that Lycurgus endeavored to bring them under the control of his laws, but that when they resisted he gave up the attempt” (Aristotle, Politics, Bekker page 1270a). Nevertheless, sources more sympathetic to the Spartans refuted such claims, and instead wrote that women’s freedoms in Sparta were not due to negligence or defeat on the part of Lycurgus, but that it was all part of the societal plan. The great biographer, Plutarch (c. 50-120), directly called out Aristotle in this regard:

“Aristotle claims wrongly that he [Lycurgus] tried to discipline the women but gave up when he could not control the considerable degree of license and power attained by women because of their husbands’ frequent campaigning…Lycurgus, rather, showed all possible concern for them too. First he toughened the girls physically by making them run and wrestle and throw the discus and javelin. Thereby their children in embryo would make a strong start in strong bodies and would develop better, while the women themselves would also bear their pregnancies with vigour and would meet the challenge of childbirth in a successful, relaxed way. He did away with prudery, sheltered upbringing and effeminacy of any kind. He made young girls no less than young men grow used to walking nude in processions, as well as to dancing and singing at certain festivals with the young men present and looking on. On some occasions the girls would make fun of each of the young men, helpfully criticizing their mistakes” (Plutarch, Parallel Lives, Lycurgus, 14).

Contrasting with Plato and Aristotle, pro-Spartan sources such as Plutarch claimed that the freedoms and social elevation given to women in Spartan society were not an accident or a defect. Instead, it was a calculated decision meant to improve the people of Sparta and their future generations. Nevertheless, Lycurgus’ ideas were ultimately outshined by the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle—and their assertions that women needed to be controlled unfortunately gripped Western civilization for millennia.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Les Lois de Lycurgue, by Cholet and Favre Petitpierre, (c. 1802–1818), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Smithsonian Institute).

 

Sources:

Apollo and the Seasons, by Richard Wilson (c. 1714-1782)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This landscape painting was created by the Welsh artist, Richard Wilson (c. 1714-1782). As the title of the piece divulges, figures representing the divine personifications of the seasons (Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter) can be found in the artwork, as well as a depiction of the god, Apollo. Richard Wilson painted the Seasons as four young women, caught in the youthful act of holding hands and spinning in a circle. Apollo sits off to the left side of the canvas, lyre in hand, and he gestures as if he is singing to the whirling Seasons.

A similar scene can be found in the writings of the ancient Roman poet, Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE). In his myth-filled masterpiece, Metamorphoses, the poet described the Seasons and other related deities as courtiers inhabiting the palace of Phoebus (a name that commonly referred to both Apollo and the sun-god, Helios). Ovid wrote:

“Garbed in a robe of royal purple, radiant Phoebus
was sitting there on a throne which was glowing with brilliant emeralds.
Standing close on his right and his left were the Spirits of Day,
of Month and of Year, the Centuries and Hours at their equal intervals.
Also in waiting were youthful Spring with her wreath of flowers,
Summer naked but for her garland of ripening corn ears,
Autumn stained with the juice of trodden clusters of grapes,
And icy Winter, whose aged locks were hoary and tangled.”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, 2.23-30)

For the scene captured on canvas, Apollo and the seasons left behind their palace, and shook themselves free of their entourage of minor time deities. Summer decided to put on some clothes for the stroll through the countryside, and Winter rejuvenated her critiqued curls. As for Spring and Autumn, they set aside their respective flower wreath and grapes. Apollo, meanwhile, traded out his imperial purple wardrobe for garments in more humble shades of blue and orange. Yet, despite the presence of these deities dancing and singing before the body of water, it is the surrounding landscape and sky that brings the most power to the scene of the artwork.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

Aristotle

By
thehistorianshut
-

Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE)

“The truth is that men’s ambition and their desire to make money are among the most frequent causes of deliberate acts of injustice.”

  • From Aristotle’s Politics (Bekker page 1271a), translated by T. A. Sinclair and revised by T. J. Saunders (Penguin Classics, 1962, 1981, 1992).

The War Of Murderous Thormod The Strong And The Viking Olaf Brook

By
thehistorianshut
-

Olaf Brook (or Bekk) and Thormod the Strong were both killers from Norway who settled in Iceland during a period of time called the Age of Settlement (approximately c. 860-930). Olaf, for his part, had to flee his Norwegian homeland after being outlawed for murder. He first reportedly joined a convoy of Vikings, but he eventually sailed to northern Iceland, where he settled in the Ólafsfjörður region and made a home at a place called Kviabekk. As for Thormod the Strong, he also killed a man in Norway and decided to flee to Iceland to escape outlawry or a blood feud. He settled beside Olaf Brook, claiming land between the Siglufjörður and Héðinsfjörður regions of Iceland’s coastline, and he made a home at a place called Sigluness. Although the two men, Olaf and Thormod, had similar rough and rowdy backgrounds, their shared aggressive natures unfortunately did not lead to friendship. Instead, their violent personalities led to mutual hostility and bloodshed.

As the story goes, the murderous neighbors became embroiled in a land dispute over the dales between their homes. Details on the war between Olaf, Thormod, and their respective bands of followers are vague, but it was apparently quite a bloody conflict. The Icelandic Landnámabók (Book of Settlements) described Thormod the Strong’s actions during the feud, stating, “He quarrelled with Olaf Brook over Hvanndales and killed sixteen men before they were reconciled on the terms that each was to have the dales every other summer” (Landnámabók, Stulubók manuscript, chapter 215). As for how many men Olaf’s side killed, the text remains silent. Yet, for the conflict to end in a neutral sharing arrangement between the two violent men, it may be likely that Olaf Brook and Thormod the Strong had remained evenly matched during their war.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Illustration for Njal’s Saga, painted by August Malmström, (c. 1829-1901), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the National Museum in Stockholm, Sweden).

 

Sources:

  • The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Siren, painted by Louis Loeb (c. 1866-1909)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting was created by the American artist, Louis Loeb (c. 1866-1909). Loeb’s mythological inspiration behind this artwork is clearly identified by his chosen title—The Siren. Traditionally, ancient Greek Sirens were said to have been monsters with the curious form of a woman’s head (and sometimes torso) fused onto the body of a bird. Rejecting such ancient descriptions, Louis Loeb and many other fellow painters chose to reinterpret Sirens as mermaids or seductive nymphs lounging on seaside shores. Whatever their shape, the defining feature of the Sirens was their bewitchingly beautiful voices. Songs performed by the Sirens proved irresistible to passing ships, luring unsuspecting and unprepared sailors to early deaths. Homer, who wrote of the Sirens in The Odyssey, described the deadly musical powers of these mythical beings:

“There is no homecoming for the man who draws near them unawares and hears the Sirens’ voices; no welcome from his wife, no little children brightening at their father’s return. For with their high clear song the Sirens bewitch him, as they sit there in a meadow piled high with the mouldering skeletons of men, whose withered skin still hangs upon their bones” (Homer, The Odyssey, book 12, approximately lines 40-50).

Such, then, is the power wielded by the woman seen in Louis Loeb’s painting. For extra effect, she seems to have an instrument beside her—perhaps a harp or a lyre—that she can use to accompany her already deadly voice. Fortunately, the Siren appears to have not caught any sailors on the particular day that the painting encapsulates. Instead, she stares out over the empty sea with a rather bored expression, waiting for her next encounter.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

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