warfare

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The Democratic Dilemma: Ancient Democracies and the Decision to Wage War

We make war that we may live in peace.

Aristotle

Is this statement of Aristotle’s correct? Perhaps it was in ancient Greece when the Persians were invading the lands of the Hellenes, murdering and enslaving them. It might even have been true in the smaller world of the Greek homeland when one neighbouring city-state overstepped and boundaries for the relationship needed to be re-established.

This is a very simplistic way of looking at it. War was part of life in the ancient world and a good city-state, and its citizens, were prepared for war if the need should arise.

Perhaps the better question to ask ourselves in regard to Aristotle’s words above is this:

Is this still true today?

Do we still make war that we may live in peace? Or do we make war for other reasons? And who is the ‘We’ in all of this?

As November 11th approaches and we rightly honour the sacrifices of our men and women in uniform, past and present, on Remembrance Day and Veterans Day, questions of war are front of mind for many of us.

I’ve been thinking about writing a post like this for some time now. Let’s face it, it’s not an easy topic, and many are divided. This is more of a thought process post in which we will take a brief look at what ancient democracies and republics did when it came to the decision to go to war, and whether we can learn anything from them today.

Sadly, I can’t recall a time when there wasn’t some terrible conflict choking the screens of our televisions, or drowning the feeds of our social media platforms. Tragically,  it seems that our world is at a terrible tipping point.

It seems like ‘we’ are addicted to war.

Again, I ask, who is the ‘We’ in that statement? Here is another statement from Aristotle for us to consider as we wade through the weedy terrain of this topic:

We are what we repeatedly do.

Aristotle

Ancient Greek Hoplites in Battle

The history of ancient democracies is marked by a fascinating interplay between citizen participation and the conduct of foreign affairs, particularly in matters of war. These early democratic societies grappled with the ethical and practical complexities of deciding whether to go to war against their enemies. The concept of “war by the people, for the people” was not only a foundational principle but also a challenging moral and strategic puzzle.

Let’s explore briefly the decision-making processes and the moral considerations that ancient democratic civilizations such as Athens and the Roman Republic confronted when deciding whether to wage war.

View of the Acropolis of Athens from the Pnyx, site of the Athenian Assembly

The Athenian Democracy

The Athenian democracy, which emerged in the 5th century BCE, is often hailed as a pioneering model of citizen participation in governance. At the heart of Athenian democracy was the Ekklesia, an assembly of free male citizens who could propose and vote on laws, including decisions related to war and peace. Thucydides, the ancient historian, captures the essence of Athenian democracy in his account of the Peloponnesian War:

Pericles… declared that a man who took no interest in public affairs was not a quiet, unoffending citizen, but a useless one. In one word, he conceived that they were born to serve the state, not only in matters great and high, but in the least and lowest also.

(Thucydides – History of the Peloponnesian War)

It is interesting to note that in ancient Greece, the word idiota referred to someone who refrained from participation in public life, who chose not to take part in the decisions that affected the democracy itself.

In ancient Athens, male citizens were expected serve the state, not only by serving the required  minimum of two years in the military, but also by voting and putting forth an opinion on matters great and small, including the decision to go to war.

Are citizens’ voices and opinions held in such high regard today?

Let’s leave that particular question hanging for the moment.

Artist impression of a meeting of the Athenian Assembly on the Pnyx

In the Ekklesia of ancient Athens, the moral dilemma of whether to undertake a certain action or policy, including whether or not to go to war, was expected to be strongly considered by the citizens of the assembly, the citizens of Athens.

However, this empowerment of citizens in the decision-making process came with its own dilemma. Athens faced a delicate balance between the pursuit of its interests and the ethical considerations of war. As Thucydides continues:

…a reason for attacking a neighbour; they thought it equitable to keep what they held and weak to give up anything, and it was more disgraceful to lose anything once possessed than not to have gained at all.

(Thucydides – History of the Peloponnesian War)

This statement will, of course, sting when it comes to the conflicts currently happening in parts of the world, as it should. However, when it comes to imperialistic tendencies, the moral dilemma behind this statement stings all the more.

If a country has what it has always had, if it has not been attacked, should it still go to war?

There is was definite tension between self-interest and moral principles in Athenian democracy. The Ekklesia had the power to decide on war, but it was not always clear whether the decision was driven by strategic necessity or imperial ambition.

Most citizens of the Greek city-states agreed that the war against Persia had to be waged. It was about survival, about ‘freedom or death’, a phrase that is ingrained in the Greek psyche to this day. Could the same be said of the Peloponnesian conflict?

Pericles’ funeral oration for Athenian dead of Peloponnesian War.

Wars have dire consequences on both sides of the conflict, so why do ‘we’ seem to be so willing to engage in them?

In ancient Athens, the people had a voice, or at least they were supposed to. Here are some specific examples of confrontations in ancient Athens in which the decision to go to war was hotly debated by the citizenry:

The Peloponnesian War (431-404 BCE) – Athens vs. Sparta

The outbreak of the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta was met with significant debate in the Athenian Ekklesia. The statesman Pericles argued in favour of a defensive strategy, urging the Athenians to retreat behind the city’s walls and rely on their navy which was the strongest in the world at the time. However, there was public opposition to this strategy, with some advocating for a more aggressive stance.

Ultimately, the Athenian assembly decided to follow Pericles’ strategy, leading to the construction of the Long Walls that connected Athens to its port, Piraeus. Still, at various points during the Peloponnesian War, there were instances of public opposition to the conflict, particularly in Athens. The war’s prolonged nature and the suffering of the Athenian population led to widespread dissatisfaction. 

The war, marked by several debates and shifts in strategies, eventually ended with the defeat of Athens in 404 BCE.

The Sicilian Expedition (415-413 BCE) – Athens vs. Syracuse

The Sicilian Expedition was a controversial military campaign proposed by the Athenian general Alcibiades not only against Sparta, but this time also against Corinth and Syracuse. Many Athenians were initially opposed to it due to its immense cost and risks.

Again, there was much debate in the Ekklesia of Athens with the young, arrogant Alcibiades pushing for war. In opposition to him, the commander, Nicias, debated that Athens should not go to war in Sicily, that they would be leaving powerful enemies at their backs as the war still raged in Greece. Nicias also tried to warn the assembly that Alcibiades and his proponents wanted to lead Athens into war for their own ends. 

Despite public opposition and concerns, the Athenian assembly eventually approved the expedition. Unfortunately for Nicias, and for Athens, two hundred ships and thousands of soldiers were sent to Sicily, and they were all lost. Athens had spread itself too thinly and its, (and Alcibiades’) ‘imperial hubris’ were the death stroke for Athens.

The Sicilian Expedition ended in a catastrophic failure, with the Athenian fleet and forces suffering heavy losses, which significantly weakened Athens in the Peloponnesian War.

The Peloponnesian War and the Sicilian Expedition both had severe, negative impacts on both Athens and Sparta. Athens experienced a devastating plague that decimated its population, and the conflict drained its treasury. In Sparta, the prolonged war created economic hardships, and the agricultural land was ravaged. Ultimately, the war resulted in the eventual defeat and decline of Athens, but left both city-states significantly weakened.

In these prolonged conflicts one could say that both sides ‘lost’, for the winner and the loser both paid heavy prices.

Was the Athenian citizenry swayed by false promises and flowery rhetoric? Probably.

Painting depicting Cicero speaking out in the Senate

The Roman Republic

In the Roman Republic, a different form of democratic governance emerged. Power was divided between the Senate, an aristocratic body of elders, and various popular assemblies in which Roman citizens could vote on key matters. The Roman Republic’s decision to go to war was often a complex interplay between the Senate and the Popular Assemblies.

This form of government is more akin to our modern democracies than that of ancient Athens where citizens had the opportunity to speak for themselves in the assembly and to vote directly on decisions.

When it came to debates in the Roman Senate about decisions to go to war, few could argue so eloquently as the Roman statesman and philosopher, Cicero. He grappled with the ethical dimensions of war in his writings. In his work De Officiis (On Duties), he discusses the moral principles that should guide leaders in deciding whether to wage war:

[W]e must consider not only the honesty and justice of going to war, but also the ways and means of conducting it… Above all, nothing is more disgraceful than to be eager to make war, but without taking proper precautions.

(Marcus Tullius Cicero, On Duties)

Cicero’s emphasis on the necessity of just cause and proportionality in warfare reflects the moral concerns that were at the heart of Roman deliberations. He wasn’t against war, but strongly emphasized careful consideration of what it meant, the cost to the Republic and its citizens, as well as proper preparation if the decision to go to war was taken.

In the history of Rome, there were numerous wars and conflicts that were hotly debated and pushed for by various factions in the Senate and Popular Assemblies. Here are a couple of examples…

The Roman Invasion of Carthage (149-146 BCE) – Roman Republic vs. Carthage

When it came to the third Punic War which followed the defeat of Hannibal in the second, the Roman Senate was divided over whether to fight Carthage once more. Prominent senators like Cato the Elder argued passionately for the destruction of Carthage, citing it as a long-term threat to Rome. He was so eager for the destruction of Carthage that it is said that he ended nearly every speech in the Senate with Carthago delenda est – “Carthage must be destroyed”.

However, others were more cautious, as Carthage posed no immediate danger, having been thoroughly trounced at the Battle of Zama.

Despite opposition to the war – for the Roman people had suffered greatly in the previous one with Hannibal arriving at the gates of Rome itself – the Roman Senate ultimately declared war on Carthage and the Third Punic War began. The conflict ended with the complete destruction of Carthage in 146 BCE, symbolized by the razing of the city, the apparent salting of the surrounding earth, and the enslavement of its population. Rome may have won that particular war, but at what cost to the Roman people?

The Roman Civil Wars (1st Century BCE) – Various Factions

The final years of the Roman Republic were marked by intense political and military conflicts among various factions, including the Populares and the Optimates. Key figures like Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Cicero were involved in debates over the course of action. Cicero, for instance, consistently advocated for the preservation of the Republic through peaceful means. He loved the Republic, and did not want to see it destroyed.

The aim of a ship’s captain is a successful voyage; a doctor’s, health; a general’s, victory. So the aim of our ideal statesman is the citizens’ happy life–that is, a life secure in wealth, rich in resources, abundant in renown, and honourable in its moral character. That is the task which I wish him to accomplish–the greatest and best that any man can have.

(Marcus Tullius Cicero, On the Republic / On the Laws)   

Unfortunately for the Roman people, the prolonged civil war that came out of the debates brought about political instability, economic hardships, and military conscription, which took a toll on the Roman populace. The social fabric of Rome was torn asunder, and the eventual victory of Julius Caesar marked the end of the Republic and the beginning of the Roman Empire, with centralized imperial rule replacing the traditional republican system.

Cicero had been justified in his concern about the erosion of the Republic’s institutions.

In both the examples of the Third Punic War and the Civil Wars, the disregard for public opposition to war by political leaders had serious repercussions. These instances serve as cautionary tales, highlighting the consequences of leaders pursuing their agendas despite significant public resistance, ultimately leading to significant upheaval and societal change.

Civil War

This is a vastly complicated topic, and we have but scratched the surface of the armour here. We’ve only looked at a few examples out of many in the history of Greece and Rome.

Comparing the Athenian and Roman models of democracy reveals striking differences in their approaches to war. Athens embraced a more direct form of democracy, where the citizens themselves decided on matters of war. This often led to rapid and aggressive military actions. In contrast, the Roman Republic, with its complex system of checks and balances, tended to approach war with more caution, as reflected in Cicero’s moral reflections. Still, were the wishes of Rome’s citizens carefully considered? Was Cicero facing a tidal wave of opposition, or were the greedy motives of a few what brought war to the Roman people once again?

Both Athens and Rome grappled with moral considerations when deciding whether to wage war. Pericles’ assertion of civic duty in Athens and Cicero’s ethical principles in Rome demonstrate that moral discourse was intrinsic to these ancient democracies. However, both models were not infallible. One could say that the Athenian democratic and Roman Republican models allowed for debate, but were also prone to more impulsive decisions driven by self-interest.

Artist impression of the Second Macedonian War

Ancient democracies navigated the intricate path of deciding whether to wage war against their enemies. These societies, though distinct in their democratic structures, were united in their commitment to deliberating the ethical dimensions of warfare.

The tension between self-interest and moral principles was an enduring challenge, reflecting the enduring complexity of democratic decision-making. 

As we reflect on these historical examples, we are reminded that the dilemma of whether to go to war or not remains a pressing concern in contemporary democracies. The lessons of the past offer valuable insights into the delicate balance between the will of the people and the moral and strategic imperatives that underpin the decision to wage war. Ancient democracies can serve as a source of inspiration and contemplation as we grapple with the challenges of our own time.

Modern politicians would do well to mind what history has taught us.

Public opposition and debates were common, reflecting the diversity of opinions within these societies. The outcomes varied, often with significant consequences for the states involved.

Certainly, there were instances in ancient Greece and Rome where the people were strongly opposed to going to war, but politicians ignored their concerns and pursued military campaigns regardless. These wars often had negative impacts on the populations involved, and this is not relegated to the distant past, but has indeed played out in the modern era.

Vietnam War

Here are some examples:

The Vietnam War (1955-1975) – This conflict had devastating consequences for both the United States and Vietnam. It resulted in a high death toll, significant economic expenditure, and a deeply divided American society. The war also led to environmental damage due to the widespread use of defoliants like Agent Orange.

In the case of the Vietnam War, American politicians faced widespread public opposition, with anti-war protests, draft dodging, and disillusionment among the youth. The negative impact of the war, both in terms of lives lost and economic burden, weighed heavily on subsequent administrations. The war’s unpopularity played a role in the electoral defeat of President Lyndon B. Johnson and influenced the 1972 presidential election.

The Iraq War (2003-2011) – This war had profound negative consequences. It destabilized the region, led to the loss of thousands of lives, and incurred substantial financial costs. The war’s aftermath saw the rise of extremist groups and sectarian violence, contributing to regional instability that persists to this day.

The Iraq War faced significant public opposition, and politicians who supported it faced criticism. The war’s costs, both in terms of lives and resources, contributed to declining public support and played a role in the 2008 presidential election, where the Iraq War was a key issue.

The Afghanistan War (2001-2021) – This was America’s longest conflict, and it had significant negative consequences. It resulted in a protracted and costly military engagement, with a high human toll. Despite initial objectives to combat terrorism, Afghanistan remained politically unstable, and the Taliban regained control following the U.S. withdrawal in 2021.

The Afghanistan War eroded public support over time and, one could say, the global good will toward the U.S. after 9/11 was ultimately squandered by the drawn out conflict. Politicians who advocated for continued military involvement often faced scrutiny, and the war’s unpopularity became a factor in subsequent elections.

American troops in Afghanistan

Again, these are just a few examples of wars, but it is worth asking: Are they worth the human, financial, and societal costs?

Perhaps modern politicians should listen more closely to public opinion, and take a more ‘Ciceronian’ approach to war when assessing the costs and consequences of going to war? There should be a robust debate. Should any one person make the decision to go to war? I would say there is too much at stake to allow that.

Citizens of modern democracies are led to believe that politicians encourage open and robust debates on matters of war and conflict. Do they?

Public discourse and debate can help weigh the pros and cons, ensuring that decisions are well-informed and scrutinized. Does that happen?

Do you think that diplomacy and conflict resolution should be prioritized whenever possible? 

Do you believe that war should be a last resort, and politicians should exhaust all diplomatic avenues before considering military action?

Again, we come back to one of the questions asked at the outset: Are citizens’ voices and opinions on these matters held in such high regard today as they were, say, in ancient Athens?

In ancient democracies, the people had avenues to express their wishes in matters of war, but do we truly have that today? Do the people’s wishes truly matter? Are our politicians simply taking the ‘easy’ way out?

It is more difficult to organize a peace than to win a war; but the fruits of victory will be lost if the peace is not organized.

Aristotle

The Voice of the People

I realize that our modern western democracies are enormous, covering continents in some instances. It is impossible for all citizens to gather in one place to debate, discuss, and vote as the Athenians did on the Pnyx in ancient Athens, or as the Roman people did on the Field of Mars or in the Forum Romanum.

Today, the people have their elected representatives speaking for them, be it in the House of Commons, or the in the Senate. The decisions taken in these bodies affect everyone.

The question now is, do you, as a citizen feel like your representatives in the Commons or Senate hear you and consider your own wishes and needs? When it comes to the deeply serious moral dilemma of whether or not our democracies should go to war, are the citizenry being listened to?

What would the world be like if all of our politicians were as thoughtful as Cicero, for example, when it came to matters of war and its consequences?

In some of the examples above, we’ve seen what happens when the citizenry is ignored. So today, we need to ask ourselves that if the will of the majority, of the people, is not being taken into account when it comes to the decisions that impact our way of life, our world, our very lives, is change required? Is the system of government broken? Have the elected representatives in our democracies lost sight of the true nature and purpose of those same democracies?

History seems to be repeating itself, and not in a good way.

Is it time for the citizenry to reassert its voice? Should there be virtual referendums when it comes to the decision of going to war?

I, like many of you, have many questions and doubts. But I do know this: Democracy may not be a perfect or fool-proof system, but it is (or at least it should be) at its core, more honest and fair.

Maybe we just need more Ciceros.

Thank you for reading.

This Remembrance Day and Veterans Day, Eagles and Dragons Publishing is, as always, grateful to our men and women in uniform who risk their lives to keep us all safe at home and abroad. We are proud to have made contributions to the causes of the following charities: Royal Canadian Legion Poppy Campaign, War Child Canada, and Wounded Warriors Canada.

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The Warrior’s Homecoming

Today is Remembrance Day.

On November 11th, at the eleventh hour, I’ll be at my local cenotaph, standing alongside my fellow civilians, veterans and emergency services crews to honour and remember those have served, and those who have fallen in the line of duty.

I suspect that most of us have a connection to someone who has served in one of the many conflicts across the world since WWI and WWII to the present day. Or perhaps you know someone who battles to save lives on the streets of our cities?

For myself, one of my grandfathers served in both World Wars, and my other grandfather in WWII.

This is a time of year when I think of them more than usual.

The Normandy Landing – WWII

I write a lot about warriors in the ancient world, and the struggles they face on and off the battlefield.

My protagonists have fought long, bloody campaigns, far away from the comforts of civilization.

They’ve faced enemies that will not come out into the open, and sometimes must rely on supposed allies that they cannot trust.

For the warriors in my books, life is a constant fight for survival. They fight and kill and die for Rome, all for the purposes of advancing the Empire’s plans for conquest.

Artist impression of Roman cavalry ala engaging Caledonians

Indeed, one of the themes running through all my books is that of the powerful few sending many to die on the battlefields of the Empire. The soldiers are at the whim of those roaming and ruling the corridors of power.

Sound familiar?

My, how history does repeat itself.

Always at the back of my protagonist’s mind is the family that he misses. But if he thinks on them too much, if he loses his focus at any time, his enemies will tear him apart.

The warrior’s life has never been an easy one, especially when you have something to lose.

Mother and son reunited

But what happens when it’s time for the warrior to ‘come home’?

How is it even possible after the life they’ve led? Can they really ‘come home’?

How have warriors, men and women, dealt with the aftermath of war?

In his book The Warrior Ethos, Steven Pressfield asks a pertinent question:

All of us know brothers and sisters who have fought with incredible courage on the battlefield, only to fall apart when they came home. Why? Is it easier to be a soldier than to be a civilian?

In one way, perhaps life at war is more straightforward. Every day, every moment perhaps, your thoughts, your purpose, are focussed on the objective – take that position, hold that region, protect your brothers and sisters in arms, stay alive. In some situations, it’s kill or be killed.

We’re back to primal instincts here.

Stepping from the world of war into the civilian world is an unimaginable transition.

Today, we have any number of soldier’s aid societies and government programs and guides that are intended to help veterans of wars reintegrate into society.

These groups do good work that is much-needed, but is it enough? How can non-combatants in civilian society understand the physical and emotional trauma that is experienced by warriors after the battle?

In the ancient and medieval worlds, there were no societies or organizations whose purpose was to help returning warriors.

British Troops in WWI

Granted, in warrior societies such as Sparta, the majority of warriors probably enjoyed the fighting. All Spartan men were warriors. That was their purpose.

But in the Roman Empire, returning warriors would have had to reintegrate in a way similar to today, rather than ancient Sparta. Later Roman society valued not just fighting prowess, but also political acuity, the arts, rhetoric, skill at a trade, generally being a good citizen in society.

Many veterans are homeless when they come home…

Going back to peace time in a civilian society after the straightforward survival life of a prolonged campaign would have been tough.

We read about legionaries coming back to Rome and getting into all sorts of trouble, their days and nights taken up with gambling, brawling, and whoring.

It’s no wonder that generals and emperors created coloniae for retired soldiers on the fringes of the Empire. In these places, veterans would not be able to cause trouble in Rome, but they would also be given the opportunity to have some land and make a life for themselves.

Thamugadi – A Roman colonia in North Africa for retired veterans

In my book Warriors of Epona, my protagonist is reunited with his family. He has to face peace time.

How does he deal with this? How does his family deal with him?

War changes a person, whether it’s in the past or the present day. It’s an experience unlike any other and I salute anyone who faces the conflict that comes with stepping from the world of war into the world of peace, and vice versa.

In the Roman Empire, they were two very different battlefields, as they are, I suspect, today.

I imagine that reconciling the two worlds can push a man or woman to their very limits.

Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is real.

I’ve often thought that governments should step up more when it comes to helping veterans. How about free college education for veterans and their families? Or exemption from taxation for them and their families for all they have risked and sacrificed? What about a good pension?

Veterans today shouldn’t have to worry about finances or a roof over their heads. They have enough to deal with when the fighting is done.

I’ve read that Alexander the Great actually did these things for his veterans, and the Roman Empire granted lands to hers.

Any government people who happen to be reading this should take notes.

We can also do our part, whether it’s wearing a red poppy, thanking a veteran for their dangerous work, or donating to an organization that directly helps veterans and their families.

The very least we can do is be quiet for a minute at 11:00 a.m. on November 11th.

As ever, at this time of year, I feel like my words fall short, that they are not nearly enough. I’d like to close this by expressing my heartfelt thanks and gratitude to the men and women in uniform who have risked, and are risking, their lives to keep us safe and free.

THANK YOU.

And thank you, dear readers, for following along.

In future, when you read a novel about warriors in the ancient world, do bear in mind that there are modern equivalents. The homecomings for many of them are far more difficult than we can imagine.

 

Today, there are numerous organizations whose sole purpose is to help veterans, young and old, to make the transition from war zone to home front.

This year, Eagles and Dragons Publishing has made donations to two organizations whom we believe are making a real difference in the lives of veterans.

Wounded Warriors Canada’s mission is “To honour and support Canada’s ill and injured Canadian Armed Forces members, Veterans, First Responders and their families.”

Eagles and Dragons Publishing has donated to the ‘Couples Overcoming PTSD’ program.

VETS Canada is committed to helping homeless and at-risk veterans reintegrate into civilian life.

Eagles and Dragons Publishing has made a general donation to this wonderful, volunteer-led organization helping veterans in need.

 

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The World of the Carpathian Interlude – Part VI : Sarmizegethusa – Fortress of the Dacians

Of the many peoples conquered by Rome throughout history, few conjure such wild and barbaric images as the Dacians.

Perhaps it was because they gave Rome such a hard time of it on the other side of the Danube frontier, or crossed over to harass the Romans? Was it their vicious ways in battle or their barbaric appearance? It’s hard to tell, for as we know, history is written by the victors.

And in this fight, Rome was indeed the victor.

Roman Dacia (Wikimedia Commons)

In The Carpathian Interlude, the Dacians are at the heart of the story, physically and geographically.

In the story, some of our Roman protagonists end up having to go into the heart of the capital of the Dacians – a place known as Sarmizegethusa.

When I hear the name of the Dacian capital, I hear the sounds of bloody battle with Rome pounding on her gates.

Sarmizegethusa…

But before we explore this magnificent fortress/capital of the Dacians, we should look briefly at who the Dacians actually were.

Rome vs. Dacia

The Dacians, also known as the ‘Getae’ by the ancient Greeks, were an Indo-European people inhabiting the region of – you guessed it! – the Carpathian Mountains.

They were related to the Thracians, and it has been suggested that the name ‘Dacian’ actually means ‘wolf’. This is a reference to early rituals ascribed to the Dacians in which youths had to act like wolves for a period of time.

This ritual has in turn tied the Dacians to tales of lycanthropy, or the legendary werewolves of the Carpathian region in which a large part of our story is set.

Dacian man – statue from 2nd century A.D.

The Dacians, or ‘Getae’, were a warlike people who fought the Persians, as well as Alexander the Great in 335 B.C. on the banks of the lower Danube. Their kingdom covered a vast, mountainous area dotted with gold mines, forests and fertile fields and valleys.

It’s also said that Julius Caesar contemplated a campaign against the Dacians because of the threat they posed, but it’s the Emperor Trajan’s (reigned A.D. 97-117) campaigns against the Dacians that are really remembered.

Trajan invaded Dacia in two wars from A.D. 101-102, and 105-106.

After the first war, a treaty was struck, but both sides seemed to know it was temporary.

The second war was the Roman siege of Sarmizegethusa itself, and the subsequent death of King Decebalus who, being pursued by the Roman cavalry, committed suicide rather than be paraded through the streets of Rome in Trajan’s triumph.

The war and the death of King Decebalus are immortalized on the monument we know today as ‘Trajan’s Column’.

Trajan’s column detail

The Carpathian Interlude, however, takes place long before Trajan’s final defeat of the Dacian people. It takes place during the reign of Emperor Augustus, when Sarmizegethusa was not yet a word on the lips of the average Roman.

Sarmizegethusa, in present-day Romania, became the capital of the Dacian kingdom under King Burebista (82-44 B.C.), and reached its peak as a rich and vibrant capital city during the reign of its last king, Decebalus.

This capital was the military, religious, and political capital of Dacia, the beating heart of the kingdom.

Plan of Sarmizegethusa

Sarmizegethusa was located on a 1200 meter high mountain and consisted of a fortress with six different citadels with a river below. Apart from the defensive network encompassing the citadels, there were also residential quarters on the terraces of the mountain below the citadels, a large sacred quarter with several temples to the Dacian gods, and workshops, including smithies, indicating metalworking skills. Some of the finds from the latter included tools and blades of the long curved Dacian sword known as a ‘phalax’.

The sacred or religious zone had circular and rectangular temples, including a large sort of solar disc which some scholars believe is indicative of contact with ancient Greeks who may have influenced their religion.

Ruins of Dacian Temples in the religious quarter of Sarmizegethusa (Wikimedia Commons)

Religion was important to the Dacians, and it appears that the priest of their chief deity, Zalmoxis, played a large role in the life of the people at Sarmizegethusa. It has been suggested that the people were co-ruled by a king and a priest-king.

There were also supposedly many levels or grades of priests, just as there were levels in Mithraism.

The main gods of the Dacians, some of which are mentioned by Herodotus, were Zalmoxis (the chief god), Gebeleizis (a god of storm and lightning, sometimes equated with Zalmoxis), Bendis (the goddess of the moon and the hunt who also had a cult in Attica, Greece by order of the Oracle of Dodona), Derzelas (god of health, abundance and the Underworld), and Sabazios (a sort of horse god). The Dacians apparently also worshipped Dionysos.

Votive statue showing Bendis wearing a Dacian cap (British Museum)

Dacian beliefs were quite staunch, some of their practices no doubt barbaric to Greeks and Romans.

Herodotus explains:

Their belief in their immortality is as follows: they believe that they do not die, but that one who perishes goes to the deity Salmoxis, or Gebeleïzis, as some of them call him.

Once every five years they choose one of their people by lot and send him as a messenger to Salmoxis, with instructions to report their needs; and this is how they send him: three lances are held by designated men; others seize the messenger to Salmoxis by his hands and feet, and swing and toss him up on to the spear-points.

If he is killed by the toss, they believe that the god regards them with favor; but if he is not killed, they blame the messenger himself, considering him a bad man, and send another messenger in place of him. It is while the man still lives that they give him the message.

(Herodotus, The Histories Book IV, Chapter 94-96)

Solar Disc religious structure at Sarmizegethusa

The size of the religious sanctuary at Sarmizegethusa is substantial, their faith and practices quite old by the time of our story during the reign of Augustus.

From fact to fiction now, in The Carpathian Interlude, the Dacians have been overpowered by an evil far more ancient than their gods, one that dwells deep in the teeth of Carpathian Mountains.

When our Roman protagonists arrive in Sarmizegethusa, they must find their way to the religious quarter of the settlement and find the one man they believe can help them.

Dacian warriors from Trajan’s Column

Today one can visit the site of Sarmizegethusa, listed on UNESCO’s world heritage site list.

If you do go, you may wish to go during the day when the sounds of slaughter from Trajan’s siege are muted by sunlight on the trees.

If you decide to go in the evening, or at night, be cautious, for you will be headed for a place of strange gods and of men who became wolves.

You never know what lurks in the dark of the Carpathian Mountains.

Thank you for reading.

Walls of Sarmizegethusa (Wikimedia Commons)

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The World of the Carpathian Interlude – Part II : Roman Weapons

Welcome to Part II in The World of the Carpathian Interlude.

In this historical horror series, there are several battle sequences against not only human foes, but also against the evil forces of undead and unnatural creatures.

In such situations, having the right weapons is one of the only ways to survive, that and having your gods on your side…

When Optio Gaius Justus Vitalis and his men set out to confront legions of undead in a dark valley of the Carpathian mountains, there is one thing that really enables the Romans to hold their own: weapons.

Let’s look at the weapons of a Roman soldier.

The Roman army was one of the most disciplined, well-organized and well-armed fighting forces of the ancient world, and their weaponry evolved over time as they adopted the best from each nation they conquered.

In The Carpathian Interlude, I have tried to use the Latin names for all the weapons and articles of clothing. However, for those of you who may not be familiar with the world and weapons of ancient Rome, here is a crash course in case you ever find yourself facing down legions of undead.

The Roman gladius

First, and most importantly, is the gladius. This is the Roman soldier’s (legionary’s) sword. The word ‘gladiator’ is derived from this word. This weapon has been called the ‘meat-cleaver’ of the ancient world because of its brutal efficiency. It was primarily a stabbing weapon, worn on the soldier’s right side. The style varied slightly from the Republic to the Empire but the effect for each was the same. The gladius was indeed an extremely deadly weapon.

A scutum – the shield of a imperial Roman legionary

In the ancient world, shields were of primary importance for defending the bearer against all manner of attacks from arrows and sling stones, to cavalry charges, and a rush of roaring Celts. The Roman legionary’s shield was called a scutum. This was a very large, heavy rectangular or oblong shield with a large boss in the middle that could be used to smash the face of an attacker. It would protect more than half of a soldier standing up, and was used to great effect in military formations such as the tustudo, or tortoise formation.

Roman pila

What ancient warrior’s kit would be complete without a spear? The Roman soldier’s spear was called a pilum. This differed from the spears of the ancient Greek hoplite in that it was much lighter and could be used only once. It was however, very effective at piercing armour and flesh because of its fine point. A hail of these was truly deadly and was the Romans’ first offensive weapon after artillery. And, once thrown, it could not be picked up by the enemy and thrown back due to the special design that ensured the tip broke off or bent upon impact making it useless.

For an optio, like Gaius Justus Vitalis in the early part of The Carpathian Interlude, a hastile was carried instead of a pilum. The hastile was a staff carried by that particular rank of officer and though it was symbolic of his rank it could also be used as a weapon if need be.

An optio with his hastile

When the fighting inevitably came to close quarter combat, and pila and gladii were spent or lost, the Roman dagger, called a pugio, was what was called for. This blade, apart from having practical uses such as cutting meat or sharpening a stake, this could be thrust into the side of an enemy when he came too close for comfort. The pugio was worn at the soldier’s left side and secured tightly at the waist for a quick and easy draw.

A legionary dagger, or pugio

So there you have it! These are the main weapons of a Roman legionary which they would carry on the march and into battle. They would never leave his side whether he was sleeping or digging ditches and ramparts at the end of the day.

The question you have to ask yourself is whether these weapons, honed and perfected over centuries of use, would be enough to defeat an enemy that feels neither pain nor fear, an enemy that will keep coming at you until you do one thing…

In Part III of The World of The Carpathian Interlude, we’ll be looking at the armour and clothing of a Roman soldier.

Thank you for reading.

A Roman testudo formation

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The World of Heart of Fire – Part X – A Novel of the Ancient Olympics

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This is the final post in The World of Heart of Fire blog series.

I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it.

Writing Heart of Fire has been a tremendous journey into the world of Ancient Greece. Yes, I am an historian and I already knew much of the material, but I still learned a great deal.

The intense, and in-depth, research, some of which you have read about in this ten-part blog series, made me excited to get stuck in every day. A lot of people, after an intensive struggle to write a paper or book, are fed up with their subject afterward, but that is not the case for me.

In writing this story, and meeting the historical characters of Kyniska, Xenophon, Agesilaus, and Plato, in closely studying their world, I have fallen even more in love with the ancient world. I developed an even deeper appreciation of it than I had before.

Altis sunlight

In creating the character of Stefanos of Argos, and watching him develop of his own accord as the story progressed (yes, that does happen!), I felt that I was able to understand the nuances of Ancient Greece, and to feel a deeper connection to the past that goes beyond the cerebral or academic.

I’ve come to realized that in some ways we are very different from the ancient Greeks. However, it seems to me that there are more ways in which we have a lot in common.

Sport and the ancient Olympics are the perfect example of this.

We all toil at something, every day of our lives. Few of us achieve glory in our chosen pursuits, but those who do, those who dedicate themselves to a skill, who sacrifice everything else in order to reach such heights of glory, it is they who are set apart.

Athens 2004 runners 2

Hoplite runners

In writing, and finishing, Heart of Fire, I certainly feel that I have toiled as hard as I could in this endeavour. My ponos has indeed been great.

There is another Ancient Greek idea that applies here, that comes after the great effort that effects victory. It is called Mochthos.

Mochthos is the ancient word for ‘relief from exertion’.

Athens 2004 - Mochthos

Athens 2004 – Mochthos

My moment of mochthos will come when I return soon to ancient Olympia. I have been there many times before, but this time will be different, for I will see it in a new light – the stadium, the ruins of the palaestra and gymnasium, the Altis, and the temples of Zeus and Hera… all of it.

For me, Olympia has exploded with life.

When I next walk the sacred grounds of the Altis, I’ll be thinking about the Olympians who competed this summer and in the years to come.

They deserve our thoughts, for to reach the heights of prowess that they do to get to the Games, they have indeed sacrificed.

Athens 2004

Athens 2004

I always feel a thrill when I see modern Olympians on the podium, see them experience the fruit of their toils, their many sacrifices.

It is possible that they may have been shunned by loved ones or friends for their intense dedication and focus. It can be a supremely lonely experience to pursue your dreams.

Whatever their situation, Olympic competitors deserve our respect, and just as in Ancient Greece, their country of origin should matter little to us.

Yes, we count the medals for our respective countries, but what really matters is that each man and woman at the Games has likely been to hell and back to get there.

Athens 2004 proud winner

Athens 2004 proud winner

When I see the victors on the podium, when I witness the agony and the ecstasy of Olympic competition, I can honestly say that I have tears in my eyes.

Perhaps you do too? Perhaps the ancient Greeks did as well, for in each individual victor, they knew they were witnessing the Gods’ grace.

It’s been so for thousands of years, and it all started with a single footrace.

It is humbling and inspiring to think about.

Heart of Fire – A Novel of the Ancient Olympics is out now, and I hope that I have done justice to the ancient Games and the athletes whose images graced the Altis in ages past.

Heart of Fire

A Mercenary… A Spartan Princess… And Olympic Glory…

When Stefanos, an Argive mercenary, returns home from the wars raging across the Greek world, his life’s path is changed by his dying father’s last wish – that he win in the Olympic Games.

As Stefanos sets out on a road to redemption to atone for the life of violence he has led, his life is turned upside down by Kyniska, a Spartan princess destined to make Olympic history.

In a world of prejudice and hate, can the two lovers from enemy city-states gain the Gods’ favour and claim Olympic immortality? Or are they destined for humiliation and defeat?

Remember… There can be no victory without sacrifice.

Krypte

Be sure to keep an eye out for some short videos I will be shooting at ancient Olympia in the places where Heart of Fire takes place. I’m excited to share this wonderful story with you!

Thank you for reading, and whatever your own noble toils, may the Gods smile on you!

 

 If you missed any of the posts on the ancient Olympic Games, CLICK HERE to read the full, ten-part blog series of The World of Heart of Fire!

 

If Heart of Fire – A Novel of the Ancient Olympics sounds like a story you enjoy, you can download the e-book or get the paperback from Amazon, Kobo, Create Space and Apple iBooks/iTunes. Just CLICK HERE.

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The World of Heart of Fire – Part III – Athletics and War in Ancient Greece

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Nearly all the sports practised nowadays are competitive. You play to win, and the game has little meaning unless you do your utmost to win… At the international level sport is frankly mimic warfare… Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence: in other words it is war minus the shooting. (from George Orwell’s The Sporting Spirit, Tribune, December 1945)

This is from an oft-quoted work by George Orwell after a particularly violent football match in 1945 between England and Russia.

With our modern sensibilities toward sportsmanship and fair play, many of us would agree with George Orwell’s sense of disgust at the violence that had permeated sport. Click here to read the full piece. That said, today, with the pervasiveness of violence in the media, including sports coverage, I think our modern sensitivities toward sport have taken a few steps backward.

However, when it comes to the ancient Olympics, the quote above rings true.

In this third part of The World of Heart of Fire, we are going to look briefly at the relationship between athletics and war in Ancient Greece, and how the political atmosphere at the time made for some brutal competition on, and off the battlefield.

Artist re-creation of ancient wrestling

Artist re-creation of ancient wrestling

If you read the full piece by Orwell, you will see that he mentions a decline in the importance of athletics from the Roman period onward.

In the Greek world, however, athletic training was central to a young man’s education, and in Sparta, to a woman’s as well.

Before we delve deeper into the relationship between athletics and war, we should take a brief look at the athletic institutions that were crucial to a young man’s education – the Gymnasium, and the Palaestra.

In Ancient Greece, one of the key markers of a civilized city was the presence of a gymnasium. Now, this is not the sort of gym where today, young kids play dodge ball, or where people go to pump some iron and then head home. There was much more to the ancient gymnasium than that.

A gymnasium was a public institution for young men over eighteen years of age, a place where they went, not only to train for the public games or sporting events, but where they also trained for life.

Artist impression of a gymnasium

Artist impression of a gymnasium

In addition to sports training, there were also lectures on philosophy, art, music, and literature. Gymnasia were really schools for a society’s future leading citizens, especially in a democracy.

According to Pausanias, it was Theseus who first regulated gymnasia in Athens. Later, the great lawmaker, Solon, created a set of laws to govern gymnasia.

A gymnasium was a large facility that included a palaestra, baths, a stadium for competition, and porticoes where lectures were given by philosophers and discussions could be had, especially in inclement weather.

The great gymnasium of Olympia is one of the most famous, and the remains can be seen to this day.

Remains of Olympia Gymnasium

Remains of Olympia Gymnasium

At Athens, there were three famous gymnasia – The Academy (founded by Plato), the Lyceum (founded by Aristotle), and the Cynosarges (founded by Antisthenes) where the cynic school was said to have begun.

These are some pretty big names, and their involvement and founding of these institutions only speaks to the importance of gymnasia in Greek society.

The other important institution is the palaestra.

This was a wrestling school. It could also be considered a martial arts school, for it was a place where not only wrestling was taught, but also boxing and pankration.

A gymnasium always included a palaestra, but a palaestra could be a stand-alone entity, as well as privately owned.

Olympia is one of the best examples of a palaestra.

Olympia Palaestra

Olympia Palaestra

This was like an athletic club, a place where men could train for combat and competition, but also socialize and bathe.

A palaestra was typically a rectangular or square building with a colonnade surrounding a sandy area where fighting took place called a skamma. There were adjoining rooms off of the main courtyard that could be used for socializing, games, and bathing, as well as storage rooms where oil and dust were stored.

While lectures could take place at a palaestra, they were mainly focussed on the physical strengthening, skill, and improvement of young men.

The importance and prestige of belonging to a palaestra cannot be overstated when it comes to Ancient Greek society. So much so, that there was a term for those who were poor, those who were without a palaestra – apalaistroi.

Re-enactors dressed as hoplites

Re-enactors dressed as hoplites

It is important that we not kid ourselves here. Athletics and war were very closely related in Ancient Greece, and any man who was expected to wield a hoplon and doru in the shield wall of a phalanx was likely someone who trained at either the gymnasium or palaestra.

Sport and athletic competition was indeed ‘war without the shooting’ as Orwell so aptly put it.

In Greek society, words like arete (‘manly excellence’), andreia (‘manliness’), eumorphia (‘in good shape’), promachoi (‘fighters in the front line’), and philonikia (‘love of winning’) were deeply ingrained in a young man’s psyche, in his training to be an effective citizen for his city-state.

These are ideas that I have tried to weave into the story of Heart of Fire, for they are so very important to understanding this world that, let’s face it, despite the similarities, is so very different from our own.

Plato's Academy

Plato’s Academy

But now we must look at the politics of the time in which Heart of Fire takes place, for at this time, when the entire Greek world was drowning in fire and blood, all of the training young Greek men would have received at the gymnasium or palaestra would be turned to combat on the fields of Ares.

To my mind, the Peloponnesian War is a supremely depressing episode in Greek history. After the glories of the Persian Wars, when the Greeks united to stand against a common foe, it is heart-breaking to see how they tossed the glory of their fathers to the winds.

Marathon, Thermopylae, Salamis, and Plataea were no more…

The Pass at Thermopylae

The Pass at Thermopylae

Despite the efforts of some philosophers such as Isocrates of Athens (436-338 B.C.) to persuade the city-states to unite and focus on Persia once more, the Greeks turned on each other.

The Peloponnesian War (431-404 B.C.) was mainly a conflict between the two major city-states of the day, Athens and Sparta, and their respective allies.

This war saw the ‘death’ of Athens and, some might say, Democracy. It saw Sparta ally itself with the Persians against her fellow Greeks, and it saw Greece’s Golden Age turn to dust.

Mourning Athena

Mourning Athena

After ten years of heavy losses on both sides of the conflict, Athens and Sparta brokered a peace called the Peace of Nicias (421 B.C.), named after the Athenian general who led talks. This peace declared a peace treaty between Athens and Sparta for fifty years, with temples all over Greece being open to all again, granting autonomy to Delphi, and the return of territories and POWs.

Sadly, this peace broke down almost at once. In 418, Sparta was victorious over Athens, Argos, and other pro-democrats at Mantinea. Then, in 417 B.C., Sparta attacked Argos at Hysiae.

In 415 B.C. Athens attacked the Spartan ally of Melos and committed major atrocities there before planning their ill-fated Sicilian Expedition against the Spartan ally of Syracuse. What followed was a massive Athenian defeat with the loss of nearly a generation of Athenian youth, and the instalment of the men known as the 30 Tyrants (404-403 B.C.)

The 30 Tyrants were a pro-Spartan oligarchy installed in Athens after the latter’s defeat in the Peloponnesian War in 404 B.C. They were in power for thirteen months, a time in which the thirty instituted a reign of terror in which nearly five percent of Athens’ population was killed and their property taken.

Democracy went into exile, and the democrats in exile grew stronger and more determined the more brutal the 30 Tyrants became.

The Greek world was bitter, battered, and bruised.

Map of movements during the Peloponnesian War

Map of movements during the Peloponnesian War

This was a time of retribution, and with the defeat of the 30 Tyrants by the pro-Democratic forces led by the Athenian general, Thrasybulos, Athens seemed to forget her ideals and former glories in some ways, threatening to kill all those who sought to destroy their Democracy.

This is the period just prior to when Heart of Fire begins, a period that saw to the public trial and death of one of Ancient Greece’s most famous and influential people – Socrates.

This is also the time when, after the battles had slowed, and warriors now found themselves idle, 10,000 Greek mercenaries joined the losing side in the Persian civil war and found themselves marching back to Greece while harried by Persian forces who wanted nothing more than to slaughter them.

This last event is recounted in the Anabasis of the exiled Athenian warrior, Xenophon. It is known as the March of the 10,000.

Xenophon, son of Gryllus

Xenophon, son of Gryllus

What did all this blood, battle and hardship have to do with athletics?

Everything.

In Ancient Greece, the lessons young men learned in the gymnasium, or on the sand of the palaestra, were implemented on the battlefield.

Athletics training really was ‘war without the shooting’, and athletic events such as sprinting, jumping, wrestling, boxing, javelin, and running in full armour, served non only to make men better citizens, but also better, more effective warriors for their city-state.

And with the state of the Greek world at the time Heart of Fire takes place in 396 B.C., there were a lot of men fresh from the battlefield who had come to compete in the Olympic Games after the Peloponnesian War.

The Sacred Truce was instituted once more, but one can imagine the tension at Olympia during those games, after all that had happened in the last forty years.

The Games of 396 B.C. were about more than proving oneself in the eyes of the gods and honouring the city-state. They were about winning at all costs.

Greek hoplites in battle

Greek hoplites in battle

Sadly, after those Games, yet another war broke out, known as the Corinthian War (395-387 B.C.) in which Sparta and her oligarchical allies waged war on the Democratic cities of Athens, Thebes, Corinth and Argos.

The cycle of sport and war seemed to continue.

I’m very happy to announce that Heart of Fire – A Novel of the Ancient Olympics is now out in e-book and paperback from Amazon, Create Space, Apple iTunes/iBooks, and Kobo.

As ever, thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll join us next week for Part IV of The World of Heart of Fire.

Heart of Fire

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The World of A Dragon among the Eagles – Part IV – Cities Under Siege

The World of A Dragon among the Eagles

One of the great things about reading and writing historical fiction is that one is given the chance to journey to a time and place far away from the modern world.

In this fourth part of The World of A Dragon among the Eagles, we’re going on location to some of the places where the action takes place, some of which, sadly, are still making headlines today.

This won’t be an in-depth look at these ancient cities, for their histories are long and varied, and they each deserve their own a book. Here, we’re just going to take a brief look at their place in this story.

Sites where A Dragon among the Eagles takes place

Sites where A Dragon among the Eagles takes place

The first third of A Dragon among the Eagles takes place in Rome, then Athens, and a little at Amphipolis which has gained recent fame for the massive tomb and the excavations there which have been linked to the period of Alexander the Great.

However, we are not going to look at Rome and Athens, as we visit those cities much more in Children of Apollo and Killing the Hydra, the sequels to A Dragon among the Eagles. If you would like to read more about Amphipolis, you can read this BLOG POST HERE.

For this blog, we are mainly concerned with the cities where Lucius Metellus Anguis, our protagonist, gets his first taste of war with the Legions.

Mesopotamia is said to be the cradle of civilization, a land of alternating fertility and desert where the first cities were built, and empires made. It also was, and is, a land of war, a land of terrible beauty.

Trooper in modern Iraq

Trooper in modern Iraq

For millennia, successive civilizations have fought over this rich land, a land from which Alexander the Great had decided to rule his massive empire.

In A Dragon among the Eagles, Lucius Metellus Anguis’ legion arrives at the port of Antioch where Emperor Severus has assembled over thirty legions on the plains east of the city.

Antioch, which was then located in Syria, now lies in modern Turkey, near the city of Antyaka. It was founded in the fourth century B.C. by one of Alexander’s successor-generals, Seleucus I Nicator, the founder of the Seleucid Empire.

Seleucus I Nicator

Seleucus I Nicator

Seleucus named this city after his son, Antiochus, a name that would be taken by later kings of that dynasty.

Antioch was called the ‘Rome of the East’, and for good reason. It was rich, mostly due to its location along the Silk Road. Indeed, Antioch was a sort of gateway between the Mediterranean and the East, with many goods, especially spices, travelling through it. It is located on the Orontes river, and overlooked by Mt. Silpius.

Antioch in the Roman Empire

Antioch in the Roman Empire

In the book, we catch a glimpse of this Ancient Greek city that was greatly enhanced by the Romans who saw much value in it. Actually, most of the development in Antioch took place during the period of Roman occupation. Enhancements included aqueducts, numerous baths, stoas, palaces and gardens for visiting emperors, and perhaps most impressive of all, a hippodrome for chariot racing that was 490 meters long and based on the Circus Maximus in Rome.

Antioch, during the late second century A.D., rivalled both Rome and Alexandria. It was a place of luxury and civility that was in stark contrast to the world of war where the legions were headed.

Some ruins of Nisibis today

Some ruins of Nisibis today

In writing A Dragon among the Eagles, I have followed the itinerary presented to us by Cassius Dio, the main source for this period in Rome’s history and the Severan dynasty. So, the order in which we are looking at these locales is roughly the order in which Severus’ legions are supposed to have attacked them.

The first real battle in the book, and the first time our main character experiences battle, is at the desert city of Nisibis.

At the time, Nisibis was under Roman control. However, that control was about to break according to Dio, as the Romans inside were just holding onto it. This is due mainly to the leadership of the Roman general, Maecius Laetus, whom we meet in the story.

Laetus managed to hold the defences of Nisibis until Severus’ legions showed up, and was hailed as a hero for it.

Nisibin Bridge - Gertrude Bell's caravan crossing bridge.

Nisibin Bridge – Gertrude Bell’s caravan crossing bridge.

Nisibis was situated along the road from Assyria to Syria, and was always an important centre for trade. This was the only spot where travellers could cross the river Mygdonius, which means ‘fruit river’ in Aramaic. Today it is located on the edge of modern Turkey.

Early in its history, Nisibis was an Aramaen settlement, then part of the Assyrian Empire, before coming under the control of the Babylonians. In 332 B.C. Alexander the Great, and then throughout the Roman-Parthian wars, it was captured and re-captured, over and over.

Such is the fate of strategically placed settlements, especially when they are located along the Silk Road.

Ruins of Edessa

Ruins of Edessa

From the bloody fighting in Nisibis, Severus’ forces then moved into the Kingdom of Osrhoene and the upper Mesopotamian city of Edessa, located in modern Turkey.

Edessa was originally an ancient Assyrian city that was later built up by the Seleucids.

Edessa’s independence came to an end in the 160s A.D. when Marcus Aurelius’ co-emperor, Lucius Verus, occupied northern Mesopotamia during one of the Roman-Parthian wars.

From that point on, Osrhoene was forced to remain loyal to Rome, but things changed when the civil war broke out between Severus, Pescennius Niger, and Clodius Albinus. Osrhoene threw their support behind Niger, who was then governor of Syria.

When Severus came out the victor in the civil war, it was inevitable that Edessa and Osrhoene would have to face the drums of war.

Edessa was where King Abgar of Osrhoene, who was sympathetic to the Parthians, was holed up as Severus’ legions advanced.

King Abgar of Osrhoene and Commodus

King Abgar of Osrhoene and Commodus

One has to wonder what King Abgar was thinking as Severus approached this ancient city. Whatever it was, and whatever he said to the Roman Emperor when he arrived, it must have been acceptable, for Abgar was permitted to keep his throne as a client king of the Empire.

There was a siege, but it seems that with King Abgar accepting Rome’s overlordship, and Severus’ need to move south, this is why the Osrhoenes escaped any large scale retribution.

In a way, it was not so for Lucius Metellus Anguis, for whom Edessa proves to be a harsh and enlightening experience.

At this time, Septimius Severus had his sights set on southern Mesopotamia and the great cities of Seleucia, Babylon, and the Parthian capital of Ctesiphon.

Ancient Babylon

Ancient Babylon

The legions made their way south, directly for Seleucia-on-Tigris.

Seleucia, as the name suggests, was built by the Seleucus I Nicator in 305 B.C. as the capital of his empire. It was located sixty kilometers north of Babylon, and just across the Tigris River, on the west bank, from Ctesiphon. Today, Seleucia is located in modern Iraq, thirty kilometers south of Baghdad, and in its day, it was a major city in Mesopotamia.

It was a great Hellenistic city in the third and second centuries B.C., with a rich mixture of Greco-Mesopotamian architecture, and walls enclosing a full 1,400 acres as well as a population of 60,000 people.

When the Parthians took Seleucia, the capital was moved across the river to Ctesiphon and, though the city remained in use and inhabited, it went into a slow decline.

During the Roman-Parthian wars, Seleucia was burned by Trajan, rebuilt by Hadrian, and then destroyed again. Like a battered boxer with heart, it kept rising from the ground until there was no more will to keep it alive.

By the time Severus’ legions were marching on Seleucia, the Parthians had abandoned it completely, giving the Romans a foothold on the Tigris River, opposite their capital.

Seleucia on Tigris c.1927

Seleucia on Tigris c.1927

Ctesiphon would have to wait, however, for there was another magnificent and symbolic prize within Severus’ grasp at that time – Babylon.

Alexander entering Babylon (Charles Le Brun)

Alexander entering Babylon (Charles Le Brun)

I find that when I utter the name of Babylon, I get chills. Think about it, this is one of the most famous of ancient cities! This was the place that welcomed Alexander the Great with open arms and triumph, the place from which he had decided to rule his titanic empire, and the place where he died.

Babylon was located on the fertile plain between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Actually, part of it was built over the Euphrates.

The original settlement of Babylon is said to date to about 2300 B.C when it was part of the Semitic Akkadian Empire. It was fought over and rebuilt, and in about 1830 B.C. it became the seat of the first Babylonian dynasty.

From about 1770 B.C. to 1670 B.C. Babylon was the largest city in the world with a population of over 200,000.

Perhaps the most famous period in Babylon’s long and ancient history is during what is known as the Neo-Babylonian Empire (626-539 B.C.), and especially the reign of King Nebuchadnezzar II (605-562 B.C.)

Then Hanging Gardens of Babylon

Then Hanging Gardens of Babylon

Nebuchadnezzar was a great builder, and it was he who made Babylon one of the most beautiful cities of the ancient world, home to one of the Seven Wonders.

He built the famed Hanging Gardens of Babylon for his Median wife who missed the lushness of her homeland, and he also constructed the giant ziggurat of Etemenanki beside the temple of Marduk.

Babylon at this time must have been a sort of paradise on earth with the ziggurat as the doorway to the heavens. The walls of the city too, were so big that it was said that two chariots could pass each other as they drove along the top of the walls.

Ishtar Gate of Babylon at Pergamon Museum Berlin

Ishtar Gate of Babylon at Pergamon Museum Berlin

When the Seleucids came onto the scene and Babylon’s power and beauty faded into history, the population was moved to Seleucia, one supposes to bolster the economy of the great new capital envisioned by Seleucus I.

There was a lot of history at Babylon, and it’s not improbable that all the Romans who marched through there thought of Alexander as they approached, including Severus.

But Babylon was a very different place when the legions marched on it late in A.D. 198.

Just as Seleucia had been abandoned, so too was Babylon. And so, with barely a drop of blood being shed, the Romans walked into this ancient city of faded glory in stern silence, their prize almost too easily won.

Ruins of Babylon (Wikimedia Commons)

Ruins of Babylon (Wikimedia Commons)

It was time for the real battle.

With Seleucia and Babylon basically given over to Rome and Severus’ legions, the forces of Rome and Parthia converged on the capital of Ctesiphon.

This time, the Parthians were waiting.

Ctesiphon, compared to the other cities we have seen, was a relatively new settlement on the east bank of the Tigris River, facing Seleucia. It was built around 120 B.C. on the site of a military camp built by Mithridtes I of Parthia. At one point in time, it merged with Seleucia to form a major metropolis straddling the river.

Ctesiphon's ruins today, including the great audience hall.

Ctesiphon’s ruins today, including the great audience hall.

During the Roman-Parthian wars, Ctesiphon did not have an easy time of it. It was captured by Rome five times in its history, the last time by Septimius Severus who burned it to the ground and enslaved much of the population.

The Greek geographer, Strabo, describes the foundation of Ctesiphon here:

In ancient times Babylon was the metropolis of Assyria; but now Seleucia is the metropolis, I mean the Seleucia on the Tigris, as it is called. Nearby is situated a village called Ctesiphon, a large village. This village the kings of the Parthians were wont to make their winter residence, thus sparing the Seleucians, in order that the Seleucians might not be oppressed by having the Scythian folk or soldiery quartered amongst them. Because of the Parthian power, therefore, Ctesiphon is a city rather than a village; its size is such that it lodges a great number of people, and it has been equipped with buildings by the Parthians themselves; and it has been provided by the Parthians with wares for sale and with the arts that are pleasing to the Parthians; for the Parthian kings are accustomed to spend the winter there because of the salubrity of the air, but they summer at Ecbatana and in Hyrcania because of the prevalence of their ancient renown.

Being built by the Parthians, Ctesiphon, unlike Seleucia, Babylon, or the other places we have discussed, was a Parthian invention. Probably the greatest structure of this capital was the great, vaulted audience chamber, or hall, which seems to be all that remains today. In truth, there is very little information on other structures within Ctesiphon itself.

Ctesiphon from the air

Ctesiphon from the air

The final sack of Ctesiphon by Severus’ legions in A.D. 197 was a brutal affair, and one that ended that city and provided the death blow to the Parthian Empire.

In A Dragon among the Eagles, the Roman attack on Ctesiphon is one of the major battle scenes which I had envisioned a long time ago. Imagine, almost thirty legions lined up on the other side of the river with the entire force of Parthian horse archers and heavy cataphracts awaiting them.

The Romans had to cross the river, gain a beachhead, and then push forward. In the end, Rome prevailed, but at great cost to the troops.

One would have thought that with the sacking of the Parthian capital, all would be finished, but there was another score for Rome to settle, another city to take – the desert city of Hatra.

As I write this, I have a pang of sadness, for while I was researching and writing about Hatra and the Roman siege there, extremist groups in the Middle East were in the process of the wonton destruction of this ancient heritage site. Writing this part of the book was indeed an odd experience.

Hatra is located in modern Iraq, about 290 kilometers north of Baghdad, on the Mesopotamian desert, far from either the Tigris or Euphrates. It was built by the Seleucids, those Hellenistic giants we’ve heard so much about, around the third century B.C.

Hatra old survey aerial photo

Hatra old survey aerial photo

It flourished under the Pathians too as a center of religion and trade during the first and second centuries A.D. What is fascinating about Hatra is the harmony and religious fusion it represented. This remote desert city was a place where Greek, Mesopotamian, Canaanite, Aramean, and Arabian religions lived peacefully side-by-side. And for 1,400 years it was protected and preserved by Islamic regimes, until it was destroyed in 2015.

It was the best-preserved Parthian city in existence.

Hatra before the 2015 destruction

Hatra before the 2015 destruction

When Septimius Severus turned his attention on Hatra after the fall of Ctesiphon, it was with a goal of doing what no other Roman, even Trajan, had been able to do.

It was personal too, for Hatra and its ruler, Abdsamiya, had supported Pescennius Niger against Severus in the civil war.

But there were a few reasons Hatra had withstood Roman sieges, including the two attempted by Severus in his Parthian campaign.

First of all, Hatra was remote, stranded out in the desert with its own water source within the walls, but none without. The nearest water was over forty miles in any direction. A legion could only march a maximum of twenty-five miles in one day. So, thirst for those laying siege was a big factor.

Then there were the walls – two of them. Hatra was protected by immense, circular, inner and outer walls, the diameter of which was 2 kilometers, or 1.2 miles. Along these massive walls were 160 towers, making this island fortress of the sand seas no easy target.

Hatra Map (with temples labelled)

Hatra Map (with temples labelled)

At Hatra’s heart were the sacred buildings of the gods of various religions, gods whom many believed protected the city from attack.

The temples within Hatra covered a total of 1.2 hectares, and that area was dominated by the Great Temple of Bel which was about 30 meters high.

Hatra withstood two major attacks by Roman emperors, Trajan and Severus. Every time, Hatra’s walls, and her gods, turned Rome back.

Cassius Dio describes Severus’ last siege of Hatra:

He himself made another expedition against Hatra, having first got ready a large store of food and prepared many siege engines; for he felt it was disgraceful, now that the other places had been subdued, that this one alone, lying there in their midst, should continue to resist. But he lost a vast amount of money, all his engines, except those built by Priscus, as I have stated above, and many soldiers besides…

When the walls were breached, Severus gave the Hatrans time to consider surrender, as he respected the religious importance of the place, especially the temple of the Sun God. But the Hatrans were stubborn, and the troops were fed up:

Thus Heaven, that saved the city, first caused Severus to recall the soldiers when they could have entered the place, and in turn caused the soldiers to hinder him from capturing it when he later wished to do so [threat of mutiny].

Once again, Hatra resisted being conquered by Rome, making it the only place Severus’ legions were not able to take.

One of Hatra's many magnificent temples

One of Hatra’s many magnificent temples

It is sad that, in light of the events of 2015, it seems Hatra’s gods finally deserted it.

To see more of Hatra before its destruction, CLICK HERE to watch the UNESCO video.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this march with the legions! In the next post, we’ll be going somewhere more civilized – the City of Alexander the Great!

This past week has been a good one for A Dragon among the Eagles, for in the UK it became an Amazon #1 Bestseller in three categories, including Historical Fantasy. It is also climbing in the Amazon US charts too, so thank you to everyone for supporting the book!

For those of you who prefer to read paperbacks, A Dragon among the Eagles is now available in trade paperback format from either Amazon or Create Space.

And as ever, thank you for reading.

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1066 – The Bayeux Tapestry and the Weaving of History

The Norman Invasion fleet

On this blog I tend to speak mainly about ancient history and mythology because those are the periods and subjects in which I have been writing for the last few years.

However, this blog is about bringing the ancient and medieval worlds to life. So, this week, we’re going to step forward in time to the Middle Ages.

In truth, my love of history began with the Middle Ages, especially the period from the Norman Conquest to the death of King John in A.D. 1216. This period has it all – the Norman invasion, the Crusades, the Domesday Book, Eleanor of Aquitaine and Henry II, Richard the Lionheart, Robin Hood etc. etc. The list goes on!

One of the things that really sparked my curiosity about this period was the Bayeux Tapestry.

The first time I saw the Bayeux Tapestry was during the opening crawl of the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

I can still conjure the feeling I had as the movie started to roll and the tapestry started to show on the screen to the thrilling soundtrack by Michael Kamen (CLICK HERE to listen to the music online). To me, it was history and movie magic!

I loved seeing the scenes of Norman ships sailing across the Channel, the Norman cavalry with their unique kite shields bearing down on the axe-wielding Saxon forces – that one work of embroidered art fired my interest in an age.

Norman cavalry charge

Norman cavalry charge

Of course when I was seeing these images for the first time, I had no idea what I was looking at. My research began immediately at my local library where I took out books on the castles of England, medieval warfare, and the Bayeux Tapestry itself.

But what is the Bayeux Tapestry exactly? Who commissioned it? When was it made?

The tapestry is actually a work of embroidery that depicts events leading up to, and including, the Norman invasion of England and the defeat of the last Saxon King, Harold Godwinson, by William Duke of Normandy at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. From then on, William was known as ‘William the Conqueror’, the first Norman king of England.

Hastings Abbey and Battlefield

Hastings Abbey and Battlefield

The Bayeux Tapestry is generally thought to have been commissioned in the 1070s by William’s half-brother, Bishop Odo of Bayeux, later Earl of Kent. This famous piece of embroidered cloth is a whopping 70 metres long (230 ft.) and is housed in the Bayeux Tapestry Museum in France.

One theory states that the creators of the tapestry were inspired by Trajan’s Column on a trip to Rome. This seems reasonable as the Bayeux Tapestry illustrates the events of a conquest over a certain period of time. Just as Trajan’s Column depicts that emperor’s conquest of Dacia, so does the tapestry depict the Norman conquest of England.

Works of art like the Bayeux Tapestry (and Trajan’s column) were created not long after the actual events, and because of this contemporaneity we have much more knowledge of events, people, places, arms and armour. However, as with most historical sources, we need to keep in mind that these were created by the victors of these conflicts.

Trajan's Column in Rome

Trajan’s Column in Rome

But the Bayeux Tapestry is unusual in that it does not try lambaste the Saxons or Harold. In fact, it shows Harold being crowned King of England, and the Saxons fighting bravely on the battlefield against the heavy Norman cavalry.

Below is a fantastic video in which the creators have animated the Bayeux Tapestry from start to finish. It’s a fantastic new way to look at this work of art. You can watch the video below or click HERE.

A nice touch the creators of this video added was the comet flying over the length of the tapestry. In the middle ages, comets were thought to be ill-omened, and the one seen prior to the Battle of Hastings was, some believe, Haley’s Comet.

Whatever the meaning, it seemed that even though both Harold and William had claims to the English throne, God was on the Conqueror’s side that day in 1066.

The Death of Harold

The Death of Harold

What are your thoughts on the Bayeux Tapestry? Have you seen it yourself?

Be sure to click on ‘Leave a comment’ below, under the social media buttons, to let us know your thoughts!

Thank you for reading!

 

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