King Herod the Great

According to the Gospel of Matthew, King Herod is the villain of the piece in the Christmas story. It was he who received the Magi - or Three Kings or wise men, depending on your preference - and became very upset when they told him that a new king had just been born in Bethlehem. His response was to order the slaughter of every newborn baby in the town, an event that is generally known as the Massacre of the Innocents.

But does he deserve the reputation for cruelty that he has had down the centuries?

Herod was certainly a remarkable monarch in that he was able to retain his position as King of Judea for a very long time - from 37 to 4 BC - which he could certainly not have done if he had been a weak monarch or one who was not prepared to use strong-arm tactics when it suited him.

But he also had to be a considerable diplomat, not least because the real power in the land was the Roman Empire. He had to cultivate good relations firstly with Mark Anthony (of "Anthony and Cleopatra" fame) and then with Emperor Augustus.

He was thus able to act as Rome's "puppet king" and reaped lavish rewards in terms of extra territory and Roman cash, which in turn allowed him to undertake lavish building projects such as the port of Caesarea on the Mediterranean coast. Kings who spent money on their country - even puppets of Rome - were always likely to earn a certain amount of popularity.

Herod's court was renowned for its high degree of culture and refinement, being peopled by artists, poets and philosophers. Not for nothing was he known as Herod the Great.

But that did not stop him from also being cruel and tyrannical. In later life he became paranoid and possibly mentally unhinged.

Matthew's description of the Massacre of the Innocents, despite being written around 70 years after the presumed event, may well have been inspired by a historical event that was very much in keeping with Herod's character.

Having already executed his wife Mariamne he also killed two of his sons, whom he suspected of plotting against him. These were certainly not the only victims of his tyranny, which extended to anyone whom he suspected of disloyalty. His death in 4 BC was mourned by very few.

A king who was in the pocket of the hated Romans, who welcomed philosophers to his court, and who thought nothing of slaughtering people, however young, who threatened his position, was excellent source material for the King Herod who forced the Holy Family to flee to Egypt.

Just for good measure, there is even a theory that Mariamne was actually Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Herod was his father. Make of that what you will!

© John Welford

Corinth rebuilt by the Romans

The Greek city of Corinth, on the northern shore of the Peloponnese peninsula, west of Athens, was an important trading centre long before the Romans arrived. When they did, in 146 BC, they destroyed the city and left it as a deserted shell.

The revival of Corinth came about as a result of Julius Caesar’s policy of settling retired and discharged legionary veterans in colonies distributed throughout the Empire. The first colonists arrived after Caesar’s assassination in 44 BC and they set about constructing a city very much on Roman lines.

Some Greek elements were retained in the new city, such as the Agora (forum), several stoas (covered walkways) and the Temple of Apollo, but the impression conveyed by what can be seen today is that this was a Roman city that would in time become suitable as the capital of a province, in this case Archaea.

Roman Corinth was very much a commercial centre, with a number of the buildings relating to mercantile activities.

Commerce clearly brought wealth to Corinth, as evidenced by the buildings devoted to leisure and entertainment. The original Greek theatre was converted to accommodate Roman pleasures, such as gladiatorial contests. There was also an odeum – a small theatre designed for musical performances.

Corinth was a religious city, with six temples built to revere the Roman gods during the second century AD. We know that Corinth had a small but active Christian community, from the fact that St Paul wrote two of his best-known epistles to the Corinthian Christians during the mid-first century. Paul is known to have stayed at Corinth for 18 months, during which he worked as a tentmaker and preached.

However, during the third century the fortunes of Corinth went into decline as commercial activity decreased. The Roman city was itself abandoned, with the centre of modern Corinth lying a few miles to the northeast. This has made it possible for extensive archaeological work to be done on the Roman remains, with the result that much has been learned about how a typical colonial capital operated.

A notable feature a few miles away from the Roman city is the Corinth Canal, cut through the narrowest point of the isthmus (four miles wide) to provide easier access to the port of Piraeus. Several projects to build a canal were proposed in classical times but abandoned for various reasons, including the difficulty of cutting down through up to 250 feet of solid limestone.

One attempt was made by the Emperor Nero in 67 AD, when on a visit to the region. He instructed the Praetorian Guard to begin work immediately and joined in by shovelling up a bucketful of dirt and carrying it away on his back. However, he soon lost interest in the idea, which was not revived until long after his assassination in 69 AD. The current canal, which follows the same course that Nero had in mind, was begun in 1881 and completed in 1893.

© John Welford

The Battle of Marathon, 490 BC

The Battle of Marathon took place in August or September 490 BC, the combatants being the city-state of Athens and the Persian Empire under King Darius. The details are quite well known thanks to the Greek historian Herodotus, although the battle happened several years before he was born. That said, the reason why the battle is best known to history is one of the less trustworthy parts of the account.

Darius was determined to bring the city-states of Greece under his control, having already conquered Turkey and Macedonia, and to that end he landed an army of 20,000 men on the shore of the Bay of Marathon, 25 miles from Athens. The Athenians sent a force of 10,000 “hoplites” to meet them. These were infantry troops, armed with a large shield and a long stabbing spear. 

With the armies in full view of each other, nothing happened for five days as each side waited for the other to make the first move. Eventually it was the Greeks who attacked, advancing at a run and being met by a hail of arrows. 

The Persians were astounded that the Greeks could hope to win given that they had no cavalry nor archers, and at first it looked as though they would be proved right. However, when the battle turned to hand-to-hand fighting it was the Greeks who triumphed.

The Persian ranks broke and they fled back to the safety of their ships, having lost about 6,000 casualties. By contrast, the Greek losses – according to Herodotus – were around 200.

And did Pheidippides run all the way to Athens with news of the victory, dying after his mission was accomplished and bequeathing the “Marathon” to the world of athletics? Well, not according to Herodotus, who described Pheidippides as taking the news to Sparta, which he reached two days later before returning to Athens and not expiring when he did so. It was the much later writer Lucian who gave voice to the generally believed myth.

© John Welford

The Temple of Apollo Epicurius, Bassae, Greece

Although it was built during the 5th century BC, the Temple of Apollo Epicurius near Bassae in western Greece was virtually unknown until 1765 when a French architect happened upon it when he was in the area building villas – he had the misfortune to be murdered by bandits when he went back for a second look. 

The temple has features in common with those of the much more famous Parthenon at Athens, and they may even have been designed by the same architect. However, the Temple of Apollo Epicurius is much smaller, measuring around 38 by 14.5 metres, and it is in a remote location high up a mountain slope, which is why it was virtually lost for many centuries, with only a handful of references being made to it by ancient writers. 

The temple’s dedication to Apollo Epicurius – “Apollo the Healer” – was due to the gratitude of local people who escaped the worst ravages of a plague after praying and sacrificing to the god. 

The temple is notable for several features, not least the fact that it includes features of all three classical orders of architecture – Ionic, Doric and Corinthian. The outer columns (the peristyle) are Doric, the inner ones are Ionic, and there is a single Corinthian column at the centre. The capital of the Corinthian column (typified by the use of decorative stone acanthus leaves) is the earliest example of the order known to exist. 

Another unusual feature is the combined use of limestone and marble in the construction. 

The temple was originally decorated with 23 sculptured plates on the frieze of the Ionic interior, but these were removed in 1812 by British antiquaries. These plates soon found their way to the British Museum in London, where they remain to this day, not far from where the much better-known Parthenon frieze is housed (the “Elgin Marbles”). The frieze depicted battles between Greeks and Centaurs and between Greeks and Amazons. 

There has been considerable argument about whether the Parthenon frieze should be returned to Greece, but maybe the Bassae frieze has a better claim to be taken back to its original home? For one thing, it might be possible to return the plates to their exact original position, which is out of the question in the case of the Parthenon frieze due in part to the destructive influence of pollution in Greece’s capital city. 

On the other hand, the remote location of the Temple of Apollo Epicurius, which is well off the normal tourist trail, means that far fewer people would be able to see the frieze were it to be returned than is now possible in the British Museum. 

The Temple of Apollo Epicurius was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1986.

© John Welford

Izanagi, Izanami and the birth of Japan

Every ancient civilization has its own creation myth – its story about how the world and its own people started out. Given that they are all myths, with absolutely no relation to reality, no one myth can claim precedence over any other.

This is the mythical story about how the island nation of Japan came to be.

In the beginning, there was nothing except sea and sky. A reed grew out of the sea and turned into a cloud, this being the first god. Other reeds then sprouted and became cloud-gods.

The youngest gods were a male named Izanagi No Mikoto and a female named Izanami No Mikoto. 

Izanagi saw no point in just floating above the sea and wondered if he could find something solid to stand on. He plunged his spear into the sea, searching for a point of contact, but was out of luck. However, when he withdrew his spear a drop of water fell back and turned into an island.

Izanagi and Izanami used a rainbow to descend to the island, which they decorated with trees and flowers. When Izanagi thrust his spear into the centre of the island a large palace was created.

The two young gods then decided that they could create more islands. They were inspired by the mating dance of two small birds and realized that they needed to do something along the same lines. 

Their dance consisted of walking round the island in opposite directions until they met again.

Izanami spoke first. “Good day”, she said. “You are a very handsome young man.”

Izanagi replied in similar vein. “Good day”, he said. “You are a very beautiful young woman.”

This was enough to cause Izanami to fall pregnant, and she duly gave birth to her first island child. However, this was nothing like as beautiful and fertile as the original island and the couple had no choice but to push it away into the sea. They sought advice from the older gods as to why things had gone wrong.

“You made a fundamental mistake”, they were told. “You allowed the woman to speak before the man did. Unless the man speaks first, there will always be bad luck”.

So Izanagi and Izanami went through their courtship dance again. This time, when they met after walking round the island in opposite directions, Izanagi spoke first.

“Good day”, he said. “You are a very beautiful young woman.”

Izanami replied. “Good day”, she said. “You are a very handsome young man.”

This time, when Izanami gave birth, she became the mother of eight beautiful islands, which formed the country of Japan.

There is more to the Japanese creation myth than this, involving the births of other gods, the sun and the moon, and the emperors of Japan. However, this story of the creation of Japan does contain one very interesting factor that can be seen in other creation myths including that of Judaism as found in the Book of Genesis. This is the god-given dominance of the male over the female. One can only assume that these myths were first invented by men, not women!

© John Welford

Carthage: Challenger to Rome

There was a time when it was a toss-up as to which burgeoning empire would dominate the shores of the Mediterranean – that of Rome or Carthage. The latter had a head start, being the one of the largest and most long-lived ancient empires before Rome really got going.

Carthage, a port on the coast of what is now Tunisia in North Africa, had the advantage of two excellent harbours and superb shipbuilding and sailing skills that gave the city-state dominance over the whole African coast from Morocco to the border with Egypt, plus most of the islands of the western Mediterranean.

This dominance began in the 6th century BC and was aided by victories over the Greek empire during conflicts that lasted for around 200 years. However, the struggles with Rome turned out to be more difficult from Carthage’s point of view. The Punic Wars between Rome and Carthage happened in three phases between 264 and 146 BC, the final date marking the eventual triumph of Rome.

When Carthage fell, the population was sold into slavery and the city razed to the ground. Carthage therefore ceased to exist.

However, in the first century AD Emperor Augustus founded the city of Colonia Julia Carthago on the ruins of ancient Carthage, and the new city became extremely prosperous and wealthy, just as the old one had done.

The new Carthage fell victim firstly to the Vandals in 439 and then the Arabs in 637, after which it was once again destroyed. It is the ruins of this second city that can be seen today.

There would never be a third Carthage and no need for one after the emergence of the city of Tunis not far away.

The site of ancient Carthage, where ruins including those of the Antonine Baths can be seen, has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1979.

© John Welford

A dinner with Attila the Hun

Priscus, a 5^th century Romano-Greek diplomat, wrote an account of meeting Attila the Hun that conveys a different impression from the generally accepted view of a bloodthirsty tyrant who brought the Roman Empire to its knees. 

Priscus and Attila

The name Attila the Hun usually conjures up an image of a savage barbarian from central Europe who swept across the Roman Empire during its dying days, leaving death and destruction in his wake. It certainly suited Roman commentators to paint him in the worst possible light, given that he posed a credible threat to the civilised way of life that high-born Romans were used to, but were the unflattering accounts of Attila justified?

One account that gave a somewhat different impression of Attila was that of Priscus, a Greek who lived in the Eastern Roman Empire during the 5^th century (his dates are uncertain, but were probably around 415-475 AD). He was a diplomat, a historian and a philosopher. In the year 448 he and another diplomat, Maximin, were sent by Emperor Theodosius II, based in Constantinople, to negotiate with Attila at his palace in Scythia (present-day Hungary). It appears that Maximin did most of the talking, leaving Priscus free to satisfy his curiosity about this race of people called the Huns who were causing so much trouble to Rome.

Priscus was clearly prepared to be open-minded, despite the evidence that Attila could be a brutal tyrant. He had, for example, had a gold dealer called Constantius crucified in a dispute over a consignment of gold dishes. He was now making similar threats against a dealer in silver plate, and this was one of the reasons for the attempt at diplomacy by Maximin and Priscus.

Attila, who came from nomadic stock, was used to moving around and did not stay long in one place, being the owner of many houses scattered throughout his empire. When Maximin and Priscus arrived in Scythian territory they learned that Attila had moved north, so they had no choice but to follow in his footsteps. When they reached the palace where he was they were surprised to be warmly received and were invited to join Attila and his family for dinner.

Dinner with Attila

Priscus wrote of his surprise at the accommodation that Attila enjoyed. The palace was more like a villa than a castle, and the wooden enclosure that surrounded it was “not so much for protection as for the sake of appearance”. 

The dinner was not being held in honour of the Roman delegation, but they were welcomed and treated with every politeness, although placed at the second level of precedence among the guests. 

Attila reclined on a couch at the head of the room, with family members and guests arrayed on either side. He dressed simply and without wearing any sort of adornment, unlike some of the Scythians who proudly displayed their gold and gems.

The various courses were served according to a fixed ritual, with wine being drunk in the form of toasts to Attila and by Attila to his guests, again according to an order of precedence.

Priscus noted that the guests had silver plates and golden goblets, but Attila only ate and drank from wooden plates and cups. Likewise, although the food on offer was both plentiful and varied, Attila ate nothing but meat. 

After the meal was over there was entertainment in the form of songs and a comic act at which the Scythian guests laughed uproariously but which did not produce as much as a smile on the face of Attila. However, when his youngest son came into the room and sat next to his father, Attila paid him considerable attention and was clearly pleased to have him there.

An open-minded account

A modern reader might get the impression from this account that Attila was cold and emotionless, and therefore somewhat sinister. This does not appear to be how Priscus regarded him, in that his behaviour at the banquet was precisely what might be expected from a refined and high-born Roman or Greek. Priscus was clearly impressed by Attila’s modesty and restraint, which he was happy to record for the benefit of people back home who had previously preferred to believe other accounts.

It is always possible that the behaviour observed by Priscus was the result of Attila deliberately trying to copy Roman customs and manners. He was aware that the Roman Empire, even at this late stage, represented the highest ideals of civilized living and he sought to model his life on the standards that he had observed. Whatever the reason for Attila’s cultured and mannered treatment of his guests, he succeeded in impressing Priscus, whose account is admiring without being overblown. That said, Priscus was never in any doubt that Attila was a dangerous man with ambitions that did not bode well for the future of what was left of the Roman Empire.

© John Welford