Monthly Archives: September 2013

Who writes the history books?

29 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by in Ancient, Modern

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

Michael Ignatieff, former head of the Liberal Party of Canada, has been musing about why he lost the election of 2011 (see eg. this excerpt from his book in the Toronto Star).  One of his consolations is that succesful political thinkers often fail as practical politicians, because theory and practice are different arts and require different virtues. Canadian readers will have their own opinions about Ignatieff’s career, and I don’t expect that anyone else cares, but this has reminded me of the curious idea that history is written by the victors.  It seems to me that this commonplace is more misleading than helpful.

It is certainly true that the victors sometime write the history books. For example, we know little about many ancient sects, because after they died out nobody preserved their sacred texts or their doctrines. Augustus and his supporters conducted a magnificent propaganda campaign against their enemies Marcus Antonius and Cleopatra, and little of their own perspective survives, so that historians who wish to tell their story need to wield all their powers of imagination.  In these cases, the defeated side died out and its story died with it.

Yet other times, each side preserves its own story.  Plutarch and Appian are rather sympathetic to the Gracchi brothers, even though they were killed and their political programs were violently supressed. Although more than two hundred years had passed between the careers of the Gracchi and Plutarch’s and Appian’s writing, some pro-Gracchan stories clearly existed and could still win converts.  French victory in the Hundred Years’ War did not make the English stop telling stories about their three great victories and their warrior kings.  And because the War of 1812 ended ambiguously, both Canadian and American patriots have been able to use it to tell cheering stories.  Canadians often remember the siege of Detroit and the sack of Washington, Americans the Battle of New Orleans and the exploits of their navy.

Most interesting are the times where the victors busy themselves with ruling, while the vanquished sit and argue with themselves about how they could have lost or why the defeat was not really their fault. Consider Xenophon the Athenian.  He was born an Athenian knight (hippeos), grew up while his class suffered a series of defeats as they tried to seize power from the faltering democrats, and saw Athens defeated by Sparta and forced to give up its walls, its fleet, and its empire.  He then left Athens for Asia Minor, where he joined the army of Cyrus the Younger, who tried to become king but was killed. Xenophon and part of Cyrus’ army fought their way back to the Aegean coast, where they joined a Spartan army which was campaigning in Asia.  After a few successful campaigns, the Spartans were forced to retreat to Greece, and Xenophon followed them and was granted an estate in the Peloponnese.  He lived well for several decades until the Thebans overthrew Spartan hegemony.  He was driven from his farm and settled in Corinth until his death.  Xenophon and his friends were defeated again and again.  Yet he devoted a great deal of time to writing, and the stories which he tells dominate our view of Greek history from say 411 to 362 BCE.  Ancient and medieval readers loved Xenophon’s literary style and his aristocratic values, so they preserved his writings and accepted his stories, and because Xenophon’s version is often the most vivid and detailed which survives, modern writers tend to be strongly influenced by him even when they acknowledge that trusting him is risky. 

If it is skillfully written and says what they want to hear, people often accept history as written by the vanquished.  Often, each side composes a story which makes it happy and tries to ignore other versions.  Professional historians can’t control the sources which are passed down to them, but they can search out as many versions as possible, consider the perspective and limitations of each, and try to be fair.  If the results are not perfect, neither are they a simple repetition of the victor’s point of view.

Edit 2019-08-27: See also T. Greer, “History is Written by Losers” (2016) https://scholars-stage.blogspot.com/2016/11/history-is-written-by-losers.html which looks at Sima Qian, the great historian of the Han Dynasty who submitted to castration rather than die with his work unfinished … and whose words shape how the emperor who punished him is remembered.

The Monuments of the Sertorii

18 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by in Ancient, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

In the early Roman Empire, it was fashionable for wealthy soldiers to put up a stone with an inscription and their portrait at their tomb.  Two such soldiers were Quintus and Lucius Sertorius, who erected their monuments at Cisolino (about 10 miles east of Verona) sometime in the late first century CE.

SAM_1186

The slab at the left belongs to Quintus Sertorius Festus.  The rod in his right hand indicates that he was a centurion with the right to beat soldiers.  The inscription reads Q SERTORIUS/L. F POB FESTUS/CENTUR LEG XI CLAUDIAE PIAE/FIDELIS or in English “Quintus Sertorious Festus, Lucius’ son, of the tribe Poblilia, centurion of legio XI Claudia Pia Fidelis.”

SAM_1189

The slab at the right belongs to Lucius Sertorius Firmus. The eagle standard (aquila) in his right hand indicates that he was the aqulifer or bearer of the sacred standard of the legion.  The Clauss-Slaby database transcribes the inscription as L(ucius) Sertorius L(uci) f(ilius) / Pob(lilia) Firmus / signif(er) aquil(ifer) leg(ionis) XI / Claud(iae) Piae Fidelis / missus curat(or) veter(anorum) / leg(ionis) eiusdem / Domitiae L(uci) f(iliae) / Priscae uxori.  I translate that as “Lucius Sertorius, son of Lucius, of the tribe Poblilia, standard bearer and aquilifer of legio XI Claudia Pia Fidelis, honorably discharged, curator of the veterans of the same legion, (dedicates this monument) to Domitia Lucius’ daughter and Prisca his wife.”

Behind the standing slabs is an altar with a third inscription.  It reads DIS MANIBUS / L . SERTORIO / L . F . POB / SISENNAE / PATRI / TERENTIAE . L . F / MAXIMAE MATRI.  The altar was dedicated “to the memory of Lucius Sertorius Sisenna, Lucius’ son, of the tribe Poblilia, father, and of Terentia Maxima, Lucius’ daughter, mother.”  The altar would have been erected at their tomb, and Quintus and Lucius probably intended to be buried at the same place when they died.

The inscriptions were eventually printed in the Corpus Inscriptionorm Latinarum as numbers CIL 5, 3374 (Quintus), 5, 3375 (Lucius), and 5, 3347 (parents).  Some thoughtful scholars in Germany have digitized that volume on the Arachne website.

These inscriptions compactly describe a small family: Lucius Sertorius Sisenna and Terentia Maxima the parents, their children Quintus Sertorius Festus, Lucius Sertorius Firmus, and Domitia, and Prisca the wife of the younger Lucius.  We might guess that Lucius was the elder brother, since he received his father’s praenomen, was already discharged, received what was probably the higher office, and erected the more splendid monument.  In the Roman empire, people often put up monuments to themselves while alive, since life was uncertain and erecting the monument while living was a way to make sure that one would have it in death.  The stone probably dates to the late first century CE, since legio XI was given the rolling title legio XI Claudia pia fidelis (“Claudius’ trusty and loyal eleventh legion”) in the year 42, and as Jona Lendering writes that successive emperors moved the legion further and further from Italy (source).  An art historian or epigrapher might be able to date it more closely based on the style or the letter forms, but I am travelling and cannot check whether one has done so.  For the same reason, I cannot explain what a curator of the veterans did or whether aquiliferi commonly took that role when they retired.

The Sertorii were clearly proud of their achievements and their family.  They now sit in a quiet portico of the Museo Lapidario Maffeiano, Verona, where they are still telling passers-by about themselves.

Two Views on Punching in Late Medieval Italy

04 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

 

Image

This image illustrates drunkenness (Lat. ebrietas) in a Tacuinum Sanitatis from Italy in the 1390s (Bibliotheque Nationale du France, Paris MS. Nouvelle acquisition latine 1673 folio 88v: for this and other images see their Mandragore website http://mandragore.bnf.fr/jsp/rechercheExperte.jsp).  The Tacuinum is a Latin translation of an Arabic book on the medical implications of various foods, activities, winds, and kinds of clothing.  The man without a dagger stands ready to punch.  Is he grabbing his opponent at the neck, or trying to catch his opponent’s dagger hand?  The artist does not make it clear.

By itself, the image of the man without a dagger would be hard to interpret.  Is the way he has drawn back his arm before punching meant to show that he is clumsy or untrained, or just a way to make his hand visible in a crowded picture?  It is certainly different from the boxing stance which many people today recommend for unarmed combat.  But this image can be compared to another kind of source, didactic literature.

Some time around 1405 or 1410, the Italian fencing master Fiore dei Liberi had someone sketch his first defense against a dagger for a new version of his fencing manual.  The following image of MS. Ludwig XV 13 folio 10v at the J. Paul Getty Museum, Malibu comes courtesy of their Open Content Program.

Image
Here, the man with the crown (a Remedy Master) has intercepted the attack and pushed it aside.  He is about to strike his opponent in the face and twist the dagger out of his hand.

The position of the master’s right hand looks odd to modern eyes, but the comparison with the Tacuinum suggests that it might have been an ordinary way to punch in late 14th century Italy, in the way that many Canadians today will adopt a boxing stance if asked to throw a punch.

Edit 2017-09-06: The late Will McLean found a passage in Les mémoires de Messire Oliver de La Marche: augmentés d’un estat particulier de la maison du duc Charles Le Hardy, composé du mesme auteur. Paris: [s.n.]. 1837 Vol. 3, ch. 22 p. 443 where one party in a feat of arms is reduced to punching his opponent in the face while the other tries to bring the point of his axe to bear. After they were separated, the other complained that “It is not honorable to fight with your fist like a woman” and his opponent replied “If you had not taken my axe I would have fought you with my weapon, and the hands of a man are made to attack and to defend.” https://willscommonplacebook.blogspot.com/2012/02/jaques-de-lalaing-vs-jean-pientois-1450.html

Edit 2019-04-24: And Pietro Monte’s Collectanea, book ii chapter LXXIX, complains that armoured combat with axes is like naked men fighting with fists: since neither can easily hurt the other, the bigger man has the advantage. Like many later martial artists, he felt that proper combat rewarded the skilful, not those with the right body type or a well-behaved horse; unlike today’s martial artists, he didn’t think there was much skill in fist fighting. Latin text at http://www.fioredeiliberi.org/topics/sources/Monte_Collectanea/monti076.jpg (edit the URL to see pages 77 and 78)

The Race to the End of the Earth

03 Tuesday Sep 2013

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

I recently visited the Royal British Columbia Museum for their exhibit on the British and Norwegian South Pole expeditions of 1911/1912 (no permanent URL: temporary one at http://explore.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca/ ).  The basic story is well known in Canada: how two expeditions both arrived in Antarctica in hope of being the first to the South Pole, how the Norwegian expedition traveled quickly to the pole and returned safely, and how the British came late, ran out of food and fuel, and froze just short of a supply cache.  I have been thinking about the story they tell about this expedition (which is definitely not one of the areas of my expertise).

Canadian patriots often criticize the British for not learning how to survive in the North from the Inuit then applying their knowledge in the South.  I didn’t know just how poorly they were prepared.  The British expedition relied on four kinds of traction: mostly nineteen ponies, but also three tracked vehicles, twenty-five dogs, and their own feet.  Since the ponies had wintered in the Antarctic, and the motor vehicles broke down or fell into the sea, this put very great demands on the men. The final stages of the haul to the pole and the whole march back were done by men on foot and skis hauling sledges with belly-bands.  The Norwegians just used dogsleds.  The British also wore mostly woolen clothing and patent sungoggles, whereas the Norwegians wore fur anoraks and leather sungoggles.  The British fuel tins leaked, possibly because they had not tested their fuel cans in sufficiently cold and windy conditions.  Every volunteer for the polar expedition showed great nobility and courage, but sometimes those virtues are not enough.

I also could not help thinking of the coming world war.  Europeans would have all too many opportunities to display stoic courage in the coming years, and tracked vehicles remained alluring but imperfect.  The late John Keegan once wrote a detailed comparison between infantry and mountaineers, but it seems to me that arctic and antarctic exploration has some similarities to soldiering as well.

I also did not know that the British polar party under Scott was just a small part of a large group which used its time in Antarctica to do scientific research.  The British expedition included a number of scientists who came home with their sketches and measurements and penguin eggs.  In the story as they tell it, the Norwegian expedition under Amundsen was less interested in scientific research.  If the British pole party had not earned immortal glory for their courage in the face of disaster, they would have earned a quieter kind for their contributions to human knowledge.