Otho's Noble End

“Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely” is one of the most misquoted lines in popular culture. Lord Acton's famously declared words were actually "Power tends to corrupt, absolute power tends to corrupt absolutely", changing the meaning considerably. The misquotation is a phrase loudly trumpeted in the 21st century, and after the atrocities of the 20th century, it would seem to be rightly so. However, there is no shortage of a great many individuals in history who undermine this. Here is the story of one man, largely unknown and ignored even by other Roman historians, who deserves our remembrance.

The Emperor Galba
Statue in the gardens of Anglesey Abbey,
Cambridgeshire, England

AD 68. Almost a thousand years after the foundation of the city, the world was thrown into turmoil. Almost a century ago the Roman Republic, which had stood for a half a millennium, was at last dissolved. The young Gaius Caesar Octavianus, through his defeat of Mark Antony, had assumed sole rule of the Roman world. In 27 BC, he took the new name of Caesar Augustus, becoming the first Roman Emperor, giving birth to the Roman Empire, which would last for one and a half thousand years. Now, the last of his line, the Emperor Nero, is dead. Declared an enemy of the Senate and People of Rome, the infamous Emperor has taken his own life. But who should succeed him? The governor of the Roman province of Hispania Tarraconensis (Northern Spain), Servius Sulpicius Galba, seemed a good choice. 70 years of age, he had held a long distinguished career, serving in Africa, Germania, Hispania and Gaul (known as France today). 27 years earlier, when the Emperor Caligula was assassinated, he had refused calls to take up the Imperial mantle himself. A strict disciplinarian, he was quite a contrast to the extravagant Nero. Earlier in the year, Gaius Julius Vindex, Governor of Gallia Lugdunensis (Southern France), had risen in rebellion against Nero. Legions loyal to the Emperor crushed the revolt, and Vindex was slain. Galba, who had lent his support to the cause, escaped with his life only through the suicide of Nero. On June the 8th, the Senate hailed Galba as Emperor.

The Roman World AD 69 - The Year of the Four Emperors
Map created by the author

An extremely strict and ruthless taskmaster, towns which did not acknowledge Galba on his march to Rome faced stiff fines, and the ringleaders faced execution. Galba arrived in Rome to find the Imperial Treasury nigh on destitute, as a result of Nero’s boundless profligacy. As the year came to an end, the soldiers would need to be paid – a dangerous situation was rising. Sabinus, commander of the Praetorian Guard (the personal bodyguard of the Roman Emperor), promised the Guard a reward in return for supporting him as a new Emperor. The plot was foiled, and Sabinus took his own life. The Guard, however, demanded payment from Galba. An arrogant and aloof man, Galba scorned them, shouting that soldier should not be bribed in return for their loyalty. The Guard was enraged, and with the new hefty taxes the Emperor was forced to bring in, Galba found himself alienated from all classes of the Roman World, including one man who had supported him – Marcus Salvius Otho.

The Emperor Nero
Statue in the gardens of Anglesey Abbey,
Cambridgeshire, England

38 years of age, the young Otho had lead a remarkable life. Born to a distinguished Etruscan family, as a young boy he was known for his mischievous ways, frequently getting himself into trouble. An elderly lady serving the Imperial House found him delightfully charming and amusing, and before long, young Otho became introduced to the young, future Emperor Nero. The two became inseparable friends, often playing practical jokes on each other, and others. Years later, when Nero ruled the Empire, he entrusted to Otho’s care a lady, Poppaea Sabina. An attendant at court and rumoured to be one of the Emperor’s mistresses, Poppaea’s beauty was the talk of the court. Seven years younger, Otho was entranced by her the moment he saw her. Driven near mad with her, the two were soon wed. Otho was eager to introduce Poppaea to his friend, and he brought her before the Emperor, a decision he would ever after rue. Nero too was taken by her gaze, and Poppaea was seduced by the power which she believed she now wielded. Poppaea and Nero began an affair in secret, Otho unaware of their treachery. Poppaea strengthened her hold on the Emperor, and planted vile schemes in his mind. If Nero were to simply execute Otho, the whole scandal might become public, and ruin the Emperor. Poppaea’s whisperings, however, soon gave rise to a heinous plan. When he was twenty eight, the Emperor’s men arrived at Otho’s house. The Emperor declared Poppaea’s marriage to Otho void, announcing his own intentions to wed her. On Poppaea’s insistence, Nero banished Otho to govern the province of Lusitania (Portugal), conveniently one of the furthest provinces in the Empire from Rome. The news fell upon Otho with a terrible weight. Dejected utterly, wracked with the most horrific grief and the fury of injustice and the betrayal of his best friend and his wife, Otho was distraught. For ten years he existed in exile, a shadow of a man, but a new man. News later arrived that Nero, tiring of her, had murdered Poppaea. Otho put his head in his hands and wept. Once an extravagant wastrel and best friend to one of history’s most notorious tyrants, Otho experienced something of a revolution in his character. Through his own terrible suffering, he saw that of others too, and saw the errors of his old ways. His governorship of Lusitania was marked by his extraordinary fairness and virtue, and his willingness to help all who called out to him for help, regardless of social class. He was admired deeply by the legions for his deep generosity. Whenever he attended a banquet, he always stopped to talk to the guards on the door, giving every man a gold piece. Once he judged a case of two men arguing over the boundaries of each other’s territory. Otho bought the land and presented it as a gift to a wounded soldier under his care.

The Emperor Vitellius
Statue in the gardens of Anglesey Abbey,
Cambridgeshire, England

When news came of Galba’s declaration as Emperor in defiance of Nero, Otho offered his support, as the prospect of retribution against his old friend and the murderer of his wife grew strong. Yet when Galba’s support began to dwindle, the legions remembered the man who had cared for them so, and begged Otho to lead them. New Year’s Day, AD 69 arrived. The traditional oath of allegiance that all soldiers across the Empire swore to the Emperor was not taken. The Praetorian Guard bore Otho on their shoulders, and declared him Emperor. The cohort on duty on the Palatine Hill deserted Galba, and the Emperor was ambushed and slain at the foot of the Capitoline Hill. Only one guard, Sempronius Densus, honoured his duty to his Emperor, and fought to the death to defend him. As night fell, Otho stood now as the Emperor of Rome. Coming before the Senate, he declared that he would rule for all Romans, in consultation with all. Unfortunately, urgent messengers arrived in Rome that the Legions stationed on the Rhine had hailed their own commander, Aulus Vitellius, as Emperor. Delegations were sent to Vitellius, urging a restore to order, for an Emperor had been chosen. But the ambitious Vitellius ignored them. Otho, who despised Civil War as a monstrous aberration, exhausted every diplomatic option, before war became unavoidable. The Praetorians and Legions under Otho’s command denounced Vitellius and swore undying loyalty to Otho. Agents sent by Vitellius to were apprehended by the Guard, who dearly cared for the new Emperor. The omens were bad, as Otho set forth from Rome. The Tiber burst her banks and flooded the city, and the auguries boded doom. Ignoring these signs, Otho resolved to end the war quickly, and put an end to all uncertainty, as his men eagerly marched to war. Making camp at Brixellum, in northern Italy, the Othonian troops won three victories at the Alps, and the Emperor took heart. Vitellius sued for peace talks, and Otho’s forces marched out to hear the terms near Bedriacum. Then the full extent of Vitellius’ fell stratagems were laid bare. Springing a trap, the Othonian troops found not an embassy of peace, but the fully armed elite Legions of the Rhine, fresh for battle, arrayed against them. Battle was joined, and the Othonians fought valiantly, but could not hold out the crack Legions.


Back in Brixellum, a lowly soldier ran into the camp, throwing himself before Otho and his generals. With tears in his eyes he looked into the Emperor’s telling of their defeat. Otho’s generals berated the soldier, accusing him of lies and deceit. One called him a coward, who had chosen to desert rather than fight. The soldier, distraught by the allegations, knowing the penalty for desertion, threw himself upon his sword at Otho’s feet. The Emperor was shocked to his very core. The Legions around him shouted encouragements to Otho, and this was no sycophancy - they meant it. News arrived that fresh Legions from Dalmatia (modern Croatia), loyal to Otho, were on their way. Nearby troops clasped his knees, eagerly willing him on, declaring that they would stand with him to the death. But the Emperor could not take his eyes away from the soldier now dying at his feet. Tears welled in his eyes. Moved by the sight, Otho declared he would not expose his men to any further danger, men who had served him so well. The armies pleaded with Otho to lead them one last time against Vitellius. That man had dishonoured the codes of war, and deserved his fate. The Commander of the Praetorians begged him again and again not to give up, and the armies cheered. But Otho, an altruistic man, would hear nothing more of war. But deep down, he knew that there was only one way this war could end, and took a decision of leadership beyond equal in human history. Never before or since has one man commanded such admiration in defeat from his own soldiers. “It is better to die one for many, than many for one”, Otho declared:


         “ We have learned to know each other, Fortune and I… Self-control is
            harder when a man knows that his fortune cannot last… I want neither
            revenge nor consolation… Am I the man to allow the flower of Rome
            in all these famous armies to be laid down once again and lost to the country?
            Let me take with me the consciousness that you would have died for me.
            But you must stay and live. I must no longer interfere with your chance of pardon,
            nor you with my resolve. It is cowardice to go on talking about the end.
            Here is your best proof of my determination; I complain of no one.
            To blame gods or men is the mark of one who desires to live… ” 
                                           - OTHO ADDRESSES HIS MEN ONE LAST TIME

The Emperor Otho
Statue in the gardens of Anglesey Abbey,
Cambridgeshire, England

As the Legions stood, all other woes forgotten, struck dumb by the man before them, the Emperor descended from the dais and embraced each man, calling them by name. He turned to his brother and the two men held the other close. Otho looked down to his brother’s son, seeing the tears in his eyes, and comforted him. Dismissing them all, the Emperor returned to his quarters. All letters and documents which held any praise for himself or ill words for Vitellius he burned, so that none could incriminate others, and he sat down to write a letter to his sister. All the money he had he divided up and gave to his household slaves. A disturbance sounded outside. A few men who had tried to take leave had been suspected of deserting and restrained by Otho’s loyal troops. “Let us add one more night to this life”, Otho thought. He issued an order that force was to be used against no man, and left his door open well into the night for any to come and see him. Taking a drink of ice cold water, he picked up a pair of daggers. Testing the point of each, he chose one and laid it beside his pillow. Laying upon his bed, he enjoyed one last peaceful night, not without some sleep.


Dawn arrived on the 16th of April. As the rays of the sun rose in his room, Otho thrust the dagger into his breast. As the darkness fell over his eyes, his dying sigh was heard by the Guard, who rushed in. With a howl of deep pain they gazed upon their fallen Emperor. The breath of life left his body, and so ended the seventh Emperor of Rome, a man truly worthy of the name. Tears streamed in their eyes as the Guard bore Otho’s body aloft outside. The effect on those who were there was profound. Cries and shouts of grief rent the air asunder as the mightiest armed force in all history all wept as one, for one:


           “ Many of the soldiers who were present wept greatly and fervently
              and kissed his hands and feet as he lay there,
              declaring that he was the bravest of men, the one true Emperor… ”
                                             - THE REACTION OF THE ARMIES TO OTHO'S END


Otho’s body was laid upon the pyre, as his funeral was to be conducted quickly and with little fuss, as per his instructions. More than a few in the mighty array were moved beyond tears. Some could not bear to be separated from so great a man:


            “ It was then that some of the soldiers there took their own lives beside the pyre,
               not through servility or fear, but from love of their Emperor… ”
                                             - THE FINAL SACRIFICE


Never before or since has such devotion been shown to a fallen leader. The army gave him a magnificent funeral, burying him in a simple unmarked grave, for they knew that Vitellius would desecrate it if ever he found it. What happened to Vitellius, you might ask? Rome endured less than a year of his irreverent rule. Vespasian, the commander of the Eastern Legions whom Otho’s supporters called upon, who would one day build the Colosseum, marched on Rome, defeating Vitellius at Bedriacum. Vitellius met a sticky end, and a new era of peace came to Rome and the World.

Power corrupts. Or does it? I’ll leave you to make your own choice. Otho reigned as Emperor for just three months. His name deserves to be known. Many years later, the great historian Tacitus said of him:


                            “ Others may have held the sceptre longer,
                               but no one can ever have laid it down so bravely ”



United Kingdom

The Lives of the Caesars:
The Twelve Caesars (Penguin Classics)
(Biographies of Julius Caesar and the first eleven Emperors of Rome, in full salacious detail, written by the Emperor Hadrian's private secretary)

The History of the Civil War:
The Histories (Oxford World's Classics)
(A detailed account of the Year of the Four Emperors, written by one of the most erudite of ancient Romans - Tacitus)

United States

The Lives of the Caesars:
The Twelve Caesars (Penguin Classics)
(Biographies of Julius Caesar and the first eleven Emperors of Rome, in full salacious detail, written by the Emperor Hadrian's private secretary)

The History of the Civil War:
The Histories (Oxford World's Classics)
(Biographies of Julius Caesar and the first eleven Emperors of Rome, in full salacious detail, written by the Emperor Hadrian's private secretary)

The Holy Lance

It was under a dark shadow that the lords, knights and barons of the West embarked upon the First Crusade in August 1096. The call of Pope Urban II had been answered by lord and peasant alike, but also fanatic. The mass slaughter of Jews in Germany, and the pillaging of Roman towns by the ‘People’s Crusade’ had left an ugly stain on the Crusade (for this story, please click here), but now the true crusaders were on their way to Jerusalem. It was a road that even in 1096 could be done in a matter of weeks. But it would be four gruelling years before the Holy City appeared on the horizon…

The Crusaders cross the Bosphorus
Artist unknown, painted in the 19th century

Beginning their arduous voyage in August 1096, the four leaders of the crusade marched forth for Constantinople. Raymond, Count of Toulouse, Godfrey of Bouillon, Baron of the Holy Roman Empire, Hugh of Vermandois, brother of King Philip I of France and Bohemond, Prince of Taranto, lead four contingents from across Europe to the Imperial City, as an unprecedented truce between the Christian nations of the West was declared. Tens of thousands across the Christian world flocked to their banners. Class and right of birth was no distinction as knight and peasant marched side by side. Ever wary of a collapse of discipline such as had occurred under the People’s Crusade, the Eastern Roman Emperor Alexius I kept a tight watch on the Christians who now flooded his lands. This time, he had even greater cause for concern. For Bohemond, along with his father, Robert Guiscard, had launched an attack on Roman lands some twenty years earlier, driving the Romans from Southern Italy. The Emperor summoned the leaders of the Crusade to him one by one, ordering them to swear an oath of fealty to him, with a solemn pledge to return the lands they liberated to the Empire. One by one they took the oath, some more grudgingly than others, except the cautious Raymond, who simply promised to do no harm to the Empire. Putting his own demons aside, the hot headed Bohemond swore the oath, knowing the disaster it would spell for the Crusade if they were denied the valuable supplies of the Empire. For a brief time, the crusaders embraced the Romans as their brothers once more, and the Emperor declared his blessing for the Crusade, generously gifting them a plethora of supplies, as well as ordering his own general staff to advise the crusaders on what they were up against from the Turks. So, in 1097, the First Crusade cross the Bosphorus straits, and made landfall in Asia.


Bidding farewell to the comforts of friendly nations, the crusaders now trod in hostile territory. Finding the mauled remnants of Peter the Hermit’s crusade, the Christians were under no illusions of complacency this time. The Sultan of the Great Seljuk Empire, Kilij Arslan, confident after his triumph over the People’s Crusade, left his cities with minimal garrisons as he marched to war in the East, fatally underestimating the new threat. The crusaders stormed across Anatolia to the walls of Nicaea, a once great Roman city, now capital of Arslan’s realm. Hardly could they believe their luck as they saw the enemy’s heartland so scantily defended, and they seized the opportunity, placing it under siege. Arslan, roused by the news his heralds brought, made peace with his foes in the East, and rushed to the aid of his capital. The large lake by Nicaea’s walls made the siege difficult for the crusaders, as they could not cut off the city’s supplies completely. Arslan arrived on the scene, expecting another rabble such as that Peter had lead against him. It was with a terrible shock that he laid eyes upon the mighty crusader force as he reached the crest of the hill before the city. The crusaders, emboldened by their fortunes so far, pounced. The Sultan’s force was badly bloodied, and Arslan fled. The garrison of Nicaea, spirit broken, surrendered to the crusaders on the 19th of June 1097. It was with much reluctance on the part of many that the city was immediately handed over to the Empire, honouring their oath. One crusader rejoiced that Jerusalem was only five weeks march away. Little did they all know that it would be two years before the Holy City lay in reach.

Bohemond storms Antioch
Painting by Gallait

Emboldened by success, the crusaders roared through Anatolia, as city after city fell to Christendom. Arslan lay in wait, desperate for a weakness to open up. On July 1st, at Dorylaeum, a chance came. The Norman contingent, under Bohemond, had ventured ahead of the crusader force in search of food and water. The sun grew strong. A glint in the distance, and a flash of sunlight on metal caught Bohemond’s eye - Turkish scouts. Barely a moment later, the slopes erupted in a storm of thundering hooves as the Sultan struck. The Normans were cut off, but not for nothing was Bohemond so loathed by the Emperor of the Romans. Leaping from his horse he rallied the Normans, turning them to face their foe. Many fell, yet the Normans held firm. Hours of the onslaught passed and Bohemond refused to break. Just then, when death seemed certain, the sign of the Cross appeared on the horizon, signalling the arrival of Raymond, and salvation. The Sultan retreated once more, and Christendom rejoiced, but not for long. The Crusade advanced, but soon it dawned upon the Christians how little there was to forage here. Not one to risk all in battle, the Sultan had devastated the land, burning its fields and laying waste its pastures. Christian morale, that had been so high, began to dwindle, as the burning sun withered them and lack of food weakened them. Supplies from Constantinople began to ebb away. Desperation sank in the crusader lines:


                  “ We did not dare to go outside; we could find absolutely nothing

                     to eat within the land of the Christians, and no one dared to enter

                     the land of the Saracens without a great army ”
                               - THE SUFFERING OF THE CRUSADERS
 

Well might the Christian plight seem hopeless, as they descended into Syria, and the great city of Antioch lay before them. One of the mightiest cities ever built, with fortifications that rendered its defenders all but invincible, high on a mountain, to say the city was a daunting prospect was an understatement if ever there was one. Once a great city in ancient times, prospering under the Eastern Romans, the Turks had seized it fourteen years earlier. Even worse, the Turkish governor of Antioch knew the crusaders were coming. The Christians moved quickly to surround the city, but so vast were her walls that even they did not have enough men to surround it. Though stopping most supplies entering the city, they were unable to stop riders breaking through, racing toward the Turk’s allies for aid. A galling prospect now arose. A beleaguered Christian force now faced one of the mightiest citadels of all time, and the knowledge that enemy may well be reinforced by further armies to their rear. On the 20th of October 1097, the crusaders dug in for a gruelling siege. “Even if all mankind came against it”, Antioch need not fear defeat, one Christian priest travelling with Raymond declared, as the crusaders stared up in horror at the towering walls.

St. Longinus pierces Christ's side
Fresco by Fra Angelico

Days passed in deepest tension. Every effort the crusaders made toward Antioch was fought off by the garrison, halting the Christians before they even reached the impregnable walls. Raising earthworks, to desperately gain respite from the endless barrage of missiles from the walls, the Christians casualties mounted. The arrival of Christian reinforcements from Europe by sea actually worsened their situation, as food was so scarce. Winter set in. Food ran dangerously low for the crusaders, and still no impact on Antioch, and then, on New Year’s Eve 1097, the crusaders’ failure to stop the Antiochian riders came back to haunt them. Duqaq, the fiery spirited ruler of Damascus, whose bloody rebellion two years earlier had thrown Syria into a brutal civil war, had answered the city’s call and marched to their aid. The crusaders fought valiantly, but it was the appalling weather which spared them this time. So heavy was the rain and so biting the cold that Duqaq soon retreated back to Damascus, but the damage was done. Much of the food the crusaders had foraged for was lost. Fodder for the horses reached such a price that even the knights were forced to sell their helmets and breastplates for even one days rations.1098 arrived, and with it news that yet another Islamic force was on its way, under Ridwin of Aleppo. Men and horses were starving to death every day in the Christian camp, and desertion began to have its ruinous effect. Even Peter the Hermit escaped, though he was soon retrieved by the irate commanders. News that Eastern Roman supply ships were on their way fired the morale of the crusaders, as the Christian knights hurled themselves at the fresh threat. Shocked by the size of the crusader force, and the power of their attack, the Aleppans were routed. To the amazement of all, the Crusade was hanging in, just.

Fresh supplies from the Romans brought desperately needed food and raw materials for constructing siege engines – now at last the crusaders could cut off the city. The morale of the Crusade grew, only to be dashed once again when an unnerved scout arrived. The crusaders would have to face not one, not two but three relieving armies. This time, however, the force which marched on them was enormous, as the governor of Mosul, Kerbogha, advanced with the combined forces of the Turks, of Persia and Mesopotamia. Near the entire Islamic world now bore down upon the First Crusade with breakneck speed, determined to grind the crusaders into the desert sands. The leaders of the West held urgent council. Now was the endgame. If Antioch did not fall soon, they would be annihilated when Kerbogha arrived. Bohemond stepped forward. If all present agreed that the city would come under his control, he would ensure Antioch’s fall. Near all the other leaders, driven by desperation, gave in to his wish. Raymond, however, an honourable man, was fired with rage, reminding him that it was the rightful property of the Empire, and that Bohemond had sworn an oath before the Emperor. Alas that honour was outvoted that day. By means of utmost stealth, Bohemond had already opened secret lines of communication with a disgruntled Tower Guard of Antioch, a man by the name of Pirus, who was angered by the seduction of his wife by a Turkish officer. The two men agreed a daring plan. The crusaders would break camp and march away, deceiving the garrison of Antioch that they had turned to engage the Saracen forces on their way, and under cover of darkness creep quietly back. A few select men would sneak up to the tower Pirus guarded, who would then throw a ladder over the side. So, on the night of the 2nd of June 1098, the raid began. A few picked men, wielding Bohemond’s banner, dashed up onto the wall. Initially alarmed at how few they were, Pirus feared. But, overjoyed after six months of toil, the crusaders eagerly beckoned their brethren on. The crusaders stormed through the city, though so mighty was Antioch, even this was not enough to take it once and for all. The Turks still held the highest citadel, far up on the mountain, while the Christians cursed. The food situation in Antioch, they discovered to their horror, was little better than their own.

The Crusaders march before the Holy Lance
British Library Manuscript in the Yates
Thompson Collection

Now trapped in the city between the garrison and the armies of the East, the situation for the crusaders was desperate. Only four days later, Kerbogha arrived and surrounded the city. The besiegers had become the besieged. The Emperor Alexius, hearing reports of their plight, decided that the situation was hopeless, and did not send aid. The crusaders were on their own. Days passed, and hellish perdition descended on the Christians, as famine, disease and thirst felled many every day. But then, when all hope had faded, a priest, Peter Bartholomew by name, in the Christian camp awoke with a start after a stunning vision. Seized with urgency, he made haste to his leaders, eager to share a revelation. A stranger had appeared in his dream. Peter asked the stranger “Who art thou?”. Spake the vision “I am St.Andrew, the apostle. Know, my son, that when thou shalt enter the town, go to the church of St. Peter. There thou wilt find the Lance of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, with which He was wounded as He hung on the arm of the Cross”. Raymond, Bohemond and Godfrey were taken aback. Many could not believe it. The Holy Lance, its location revealed? The actual spear of Longinus, thrust into Christ’s side at the Crucifixion? (It is a common mistake to believe that it was the crucifixion itself that killed Jesus Christ – it was in fact the spear thrust into his side by the Roman soldier Longinus while he was nailed to the Cross). Many crusaders, driven to the brink of madness by hunger, prone to hallucinations, hailed Peter as a new prophet. Bohemond was highly sceptical. One of the holiest of relics in Christendom, here at last? Raymond did believe, however, and urged Peter to follow his vision. On the 14th of June, a meteor was seen in the sky, an omen, but good or bad? Peter climbed the heights to the Cathedral of St. Peter, and thirteen men dug from dawn until dusk under the nave. Then, as night fell, Peter climbed into the pit. All present were utterly struck dumb, as Peter reached down into the dirt and his hand closed around a spear point. It was as though seven months of agony had never happened. The fire of zeal burst through the Christian camp. “Joy beyond measure arose in the whole city”, one eyewitness reported. If there were any doubters, they were silenced now. They bodies battered, but their spirits born anew, the crusaders, spurred on by their faith, turned to face their foes. Deciding to risk everything on one great gamble, the entire crusader force burst out of the gates and charged down upon Kerbogha’s vast array. Riding before them was Adhemar, legate of the Pope, bearing the relic of the Holy Lance. Many crusaders saw visions of St. George, St. Demetrius and St. Maurice riding beside them. A great roar rose from the Christians, and Kerbogha feared. Shocked to see a fully unified Christian force before him, he could not believe his eyes. He had been told they were on the brink of utter collapse. Vast were his forces, yet they hailed from all parts of the Eastern world. Many emirs schemed and plotted against him, rumours that he planned to take over all of Syria upon his victory, and division rippled through his lines. Quaking before the armoured knights now thundering towards them, many turned in terror. The Muslim lines were thrown into anarchy, as the crusader knights slammed into them with irresistible force. The Christians rode to a crushing victory, and the garrison high in Antioch, distraught by what they saw, surrendered. Antioch, the great city, had fallen at last. Finally, the road to Jerusalem was open…

United Kingdom

Eyewitness accounts

The First Crusade: "The Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres" and Other Source Materials (Middle Ages)
(A very useful collection of eyewitness accounts of the First Crusade)

United States

Eyewitness accounts

The First Crusade: "The Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres" and Other Source Materials (The Middle Ages Series)
(A very useful collection of eyewitness accounts of the First Crusade) 

A Way of Life

Why stop at reforging a nation when you can remake its people? It was precisely this idea which gripped Lycurgus now. After so many years spent in exile, and so many years travelling the world, the onetime King of Sparta had singlehandedly built a country, raising her from the brink of destruction to greatness anew (for the first part of the this story, please click here).

Mount Taygetus - Where rejected infants were abandoned
Photograph taken by the author

But it is in the revolutionary education that Lycurgus made Sparta the envy of the world. Seeing the weak and passive boys of Athens, who reclined in their homes being tutored by foreign slaves, Lycurgus resolved to make the sons and daughters of Sparta the most fearsome in all the world. Unique among the nations which have lived in this world, the Spartans practised selective breeding and eugenics upon themselves. When a baby was born, be it a boy or a girl, they would be immediately examined by the senior elder. If the child was strong and healthy, then it would be allowed to live. If the infant displayed any sign of physical deformity or poor health, it would be destroyed, regardless of the parent’s wishes, as it was deemed better for both the child and the state if it were incapable of the formidable demands of the Spartan state. Infants were trained not to fear the dark or being left alone, to eat up their food without fussing, and fits of temper and crying were soon bred out of them. Boys that survived to the age of seven were divided into ‘herds’, and were inducted into the legendary agoge, the brutal path that would turn a boy into a Spartan. The boys exercised vigorously, and perpetually, carefully observed by the older citizens, who spurred them on to fight each other, to ready them for war. They learned to read and write “no more than was necessary”, focusing their training on “obedience, perseverance under stress, and victory in battle”. The older they grew, the more intensive the training. At twelve, each surviving boy was given the iconic red cloak to wear, for all other clothing was forbidden in Sparta. As others wasted fortunes on lavish clothing, Lycurgus reasoned that a powerful body showed the devotion of a man to wellbeing, and silken clothing a hideous corruption of it. Such practice would also harden the boys against the effects of cold and heat. Shoes were forbidden too, to toughen the boy’s soles, so that each was well accustomed to running in the wild. At night, torches were forbidden, so that each would be used to operating in the dark and would have no fear of it.

A Spartan Warrior
Marble statue of the 5th century BC

The ruthless agoge not only honed the body, but the mind too. All boys were allocated to a common mess, and frequently held discussion on important topics with the elders. Each boy was regularly asked to scrutinise his fellow comrades. “Answers had to be reasoned, supported by argument, and at the same time expressed with brevity and conciseness”, defying the stereotype of the Spartans as unthinking warriors. The Spartan’s quick wit and use of few words, from where our adjectives ‘laconic’ or indeed ‘Spartan’ come from, became legendary even in ancient times. Once a foreigner asked the Spartan Eurypontid King Ariston how many fighting men lived at Sparta. “Enough”, replied the King. Centuries later, when King Philip II of Macedon had conquered all the other cities of Greece, he sent an ultimatum to Sparta. “You are advised to submit without further delay, for if I bring my army into your land, I will destroy your farms, slay your people and raze your city”. The Spartans sent a reply of just a single word – “If”. Philip never again dared threaten the Spartans. Once, in a time of crisis, a Spartan who had been crippled in one leg eagerly enlisted with the fighting men. Some were determined to bar him from combat as a result of his injury, he answered, “But what is needed to fight our foes is a man who stands his ground, not one who runs away”. When once a foreign man bragged loudly of his wealth and riches, sneering as he asked where Sparta’s wealth lay, a nearby Spartan declared “Stranger, we are rich in valour and deeds”. During the dramatic Persian invasion of Greece, when just three hundred Spartans faced a Persian army numbering in the millions, the Persian Great King Xerxes sent a herald to the Spartans. “Spartans! Lay down your arms!”, he cried. “PERSIANS! COME AND GET THEM!” the Spartan King Leonidas roared back. When a terrified Greek scout declared that the Persians were so many that their arrows would block out the Sun, one of the three hundred declared, “Excellent, then we shall fight in the shade”. A Spartan ambassador in Athens was once mocked by the Athenians as hailing from an uneducated people. “It serves us well, for we have learned nothing wicked from you”, came the calm reply, wiping smiles clean from Athenian faces. When once a man was invited to a great meal on account of his legendary speeches, and remained silent throughout the entire meal, much criticism of him spread throughout the room. The Spartan King Archidamadas, puzzled by this reaction, pointed out “an expert at speaking also knows when to do so”. When the people of Elis received lavish praise once for their fair conduct of the Olympic Games, only the Spartan King Agis did not join in. The other Greeks angrily turned to him to ask why he was not offering praise. “What great or wonderful achievement is it on their part if they act fairly on just one day in every four years?”, the King retorted. When far away on campaign in Asia, a foreigner asked the Spartan King Agesilaus how far the boundaries of the Spartan domains extended. Seizing his spear, he replied “As far as this can reach”.


Lycurgus decreed that each boy was to be deliberately given rations that were not enough for one person, forcing them to fight and steal. If a boy was caught stealing, he would be savagely beaten and whipped, not for theft, but for incompetence at theft. Indeed, a story abounded how one young Spartan boy was caught after he had stolen a fox cub and hid it under his cloak, but refused to admit his crime, even as the frenzied beast clawed his abdomen open. The idea of retreat in battle was the most polluting shame a man could suffer in Sparta. Death was preferable. If any fled in war, they would be reduced to subhuman status, mocked and beaten in the streets, his family members forbidden from marrying and his name disgraced. Valour was everything, even if it led to death. To die fighting in battle was the highest honour a man could aspire to, and only those Spartan men who died in war were permitted to be buried in a marked grave, as a beacon of inspiration. One man expressed his fears for the safety of Sparta, as the city had no walls to defend it. Lycurgus retorted that “a city cannot be unfortified if it is ringed with brave men and not bricks”. To the end of its days, Sparta never built walls. Lycurgus fondly recalled the division of labour in Egypt, and decreed that all Spartan men were forbidden from practicing any craft, ensuring they focused their life on training for that thing which makes nations free - war - all day, all days. Only during times of war was training relaxed, so that the Spartans would see battle as a respite, and relish it more.

Spartan girls exercising
Painting by Edgar Degas

It was not only the males who trained. Unique among all the civilisations of the ancient world, in Sparta girls too would exercise and devote themselves to physical perfection, even competing in the arenas of sport. By their late teens, a Spartan girl would be more than a match even for the most battle hardened of men from other cities. Some even competed in the Olympic Games. The Spartan Princess Cynisca shocked the Greek world by triumphing in the chariot races, not once, but twice, at the Olympic Games of 396 and 392 BC, making a mockery of the men she raced against. “Why are you Spartan women the only ones who can rule men?” an envious Athenian lady once asked Queen Gorgo of Sparta. “Because we are the only ones who give birth to real men”, the Queen famously replied. Just as the supreme honour was for a man to die in war, for a lady to die in childbirth would warrant her name being immortalised in stone. Lycurgus reasoned that each had entailed the greatest sacrifice for the state, and was worthy of honour.


Lycurgus looked proudly upon the new state he had built, and the Spartan people eagerly accepted it. Summoning the people to assembly, he declared that Sparta was secure, but the greatest reform was yet to come. He volunteered to take the road to Delphi, and hear from the Oracle if his reforms were pleasing to the gods on high. In the meantime, he declared, the people must swear an oath to abide by the laws until his return. This the people readily did, awed by Lycurgus as they were. A path trodden by so many great souls, now Lycurgus followed in their wake to the Oracle’s Mount. ‘Will these laws secure the happiness and greatness of the state?’, spoke the exiled King. The Oracle was unusually forthright. The gods had decreed that Sparta would enjoy an everlasting legacy that would be the envy of the world, and that so long as she obeys the new way of life, she may never fall. Tearful with joy, Lycurgus wrote down the Oracle’s words, and sent them to Sparta. But Lycurgus was a prudent and pious man. Well did he know that many revolutionary ideas die with their creator, and decided to ensure the survival of his masterpiece. Lycurgus, the King who became an exile, and the exile who became the father of a nation, true to his own teachings until the end, decided to give the greatest sacrifice for the state. Ordering his friends to take his ashes and scatter them in the sea, the once exiled King took his own life, so as to never release Sparta from her oath, and to ensure the glory of his city lived forever...


United Kingdom

On Sparta:
On Sparta (Penguin Classics)
(A unique insight into the stories, customs and founding of the Spartan state, written in ancient times)

United States

On Sparta:
On Sparta (Penguin Classics)
(A unique insight into the stories, customs and founding of the Spartan state, written in ancient times)

The Exiled King

Speak today of eugenics and we think of Nazi Germany. Speak today of unwavering loyalty to honour and we think of feudal Japan. Speak today of absolute rejection of wealth and we dream of a more noble tomorrow. But all are far older than many of us would think. It has been done. There was a civilisation once which bound all three into one of the most controversial, admired, and feared states that ever existed. This was the formidable city state of Sparta, the deeds of whose citizens inspire awe and disbelief in equal measure. Here is the story of the man who had the courage to change everything.

Greece in the Classical Era
Map created by the author

Nearly three thousand years ago, in the most archaic times of Greece, there was no Greece. Greece has existed in its present form only since 1830. About five hundred years after the Trojan War, in the Greek Dark Ages, the land was filled with independent city states, each united by a common language, religion and culture, but fiercely divided by their relentless struggle for supremacy over the others. This rivalry, which never truly faded, would one day spell their doom. Around this time, many of the Greek cities were crippled by the squabbles of the rich and the toils of the poor. Whilst the fields of Attica and Boetia were a battleground between Athens and Thebes, two of the most powerful Greek cities, the peninsula to the south lay largely ignored by their high-minded neighbours. But a new power was rising in the Peloponnese (for the story which gave this land its name, please click here). For the tiny city of Sparta, in the eastern lands of Laconia, thrived. Marvelling at its recent conquest of the neighbouring city of Messenia, the Spartans rejoiced, though their city was in a wretched state.

Uniquely, Sparta was ruled by not one, but two Kings, one borne of the Agiad royal line, and his co-ruler hailing from the Eurypontid royal house, who both could claim descent from Heracles and his progeny who had first conquered Laconia in the distant mists of time. For three generations after the days of Heracles (whose own story begins here), Argeia, Queen to the afflicted Spartan King Aristodemus, gave birth to twin boys. Aristodemus lived just long enought to see his sons, dying tragically of illness within days. As was the law, the Spartans declared that the elder son should be hailed as King. But never before had twin boys been born to the royal bloodline. Who is the elder of twins? Both boys were identical, in size and form, and the succession became a crisis. The Spartans asked the Queen which had been born first, but Argeia replied that she was no more able to tell them apart now than they could. In secret, the Queen knew precisely which was which, though she could not bear to favour one over the other. Desperate now, as constitutional crisis meant the crippling of the state, the Spartans sent an urgent envoy to consult the Oracle of Delphi. Employing the arcane wisdom and ambiguity at which she was so adept, the Oracle answered. “May both be crowned as Kings of Sparta, yet to the elder grant the highest of honour”. The Spartans obeyed, but were still at a loss as to who was the elder. Just then, as hope seemed lost, a wise man from Messenia suggested they secretly watch the mother as she washed and fed her twin boys. If she always attended to the same child first, then that must surely be the elder. Seeing a grain of logic in his words, the Spartans obeyed. As they watched, they saw that the Queen did indeed always care for the same one first. The elder boy was named Eurysthenes, and he was crowned the High King, and his brother Procles his fellow King. So was founded the Agiad and Eurypontid royal houses of Sparta, named for their grandsons Agis and Eurypon, which ruled Sparta for near a thousand years. Some of their Kings ruled by oppressive force, and others through total lack of force. Eurypon was the first King to rule as a true man of the people, relaxing his more autocratic powers. Great was his popularity, but within generations, soon all Sparta was wracked by anarchy and strife, and it seemed as though it would become just another Athens. So grave were matters that, in a violent brawl in the streets, the Eurypontid King Eunomus was slain whilst trying to break up a fight. His throne passed to his oldest son, Polydectes, who died himself not long after. It was to Polydectes’ younger brother, Lycurgus, that the future greatness of Sparta owed its glory.

Sparta today, before Mount Taygetus
Photograph taken by Κούμαρης Νικόλαος

Lycurgus, an honourable and austere man, ruled well, but soon came a revelation which troubled the elders. Not long after the death of Polydectes, it became apparent that his widow was bearing a child. Magnanimous as ever he was, Lycurgus decreed that the throne was rightfully the child’s if it turned out to be a boy, and that he would rule as a guardian until the boy was ready. When, some months later, the widow gave birth to a boy, Charilaus, Lycurgus honoured his pledge, declaring the boy the rightful heir to the Eurypontid throne. The Spartan people rejoiced, and praised Lycurgus for his fair and noble character. But, ever ready to lay waste to the best of people is the shadow of envy. Charilaus’ relatives grew wary of Lycurgus, resenting his popularity. Soon suspicion turned to paranoia, and rumours began to spread that Lycurgus desired the throne alone. When at last Lycurgus, resigned to being the target of false charges, heard these fears he decided to leave Sparta until Charilaus was old enough to be crowned, and thus put an end to the false rumours. Forced into exile by his own city, the resourceful Lycurgus decided to travel the world, and see its nations with his own eyes.

Shrewd and charming, Lycurgus earned the respect of all who crossed his path with his insight and sagacity. By leaving behind his own country for the first time, his eyes were opened to the world, and he began to think what he, and his city, could learn from its peoples. His travels carried him further along the road to enlightenment, and further from home. First he landed upon the shores of verdant Crete, and marvelled at the close knit camaraderie of the locals, their fair songs and lyrical poems. The exiled King befriended many prominent Cretans, studying their way of life intently, admiring their ready obedience to the state. If only things were so in Sparta! Then to Asia did wise Lycurgus venture, and horror and disgust was his. For while it was here that he first heard the stories of Troy and the poetry of Homer, he was appalled at the unbridled extravagance and worship of money around every corner of the Ionian cities. Corruption stalked the land with a festering presence, and men fought tooth and nail to swell their fortunes and shatter those of their rivals. The people groaned under the towering burden of the rich, and the wealthy indulged in the most grotesque revelry, utterly oblivious to the ruin of the poor. Lycurgus, shuddering with anger, eagerly scribbled down all that he saw. South then, to Egypt and the land of the Pharaohs. Most awed was the Spartan King, as he saw the efficiency of this realm. Each man and woman scurried about on his or her errand like bees in the hive, all knowing their place and what to do. The soldiers fought, the priests prayed and the builders built. Such division of labour caught Lycurgus’ eager eye. Some say the wise man’s travels even brought him to the courts of India, the sands of Libya and the pillars of Spain.

Lycurgus
One of twenty three portraits of famous lawgivers
to adorn the Chamber of the United States
 House of Representatives

After many years on stranger tides, word reached Lycurgus’ ear, a plea to return from his city of old. Energised by what he had seen in exile like never before, eagerly did he return to the city which bore him. The people of Sparta hailed Lycurgus as a man who was truly a King in heart, though others may wear the crown. Seeing an opportunity to bring all he had learned to bear, Lycurgus seized the chance. Seeing that modifying one law or making some pedantic amendment would be utterly useless, he swept aside the entire constitution, and built a state from the ground up. One of his most dramatic reforms was the abolition of wealth, and the pursuit of it. All gold and silver was seized and melted down, coinage was rendered invalid, and the new system of currency was henceforth to be in iron bars. Lycurgus assigned a tiny value to even a huge weight of iron, such that even a small sum needed substantial storage space and a wagon to carry it. The surface of each bar was doused with vinegar, making it fragile and brittle, rendering the metal useless for anything else. Overnight, almost all crime vanished from Sparta. “For who would set out to steal, or accept as a bribe, or rob, or plunder something which could not be hidden, excited no envy when possessed, and could not even be profitably chopped up?”. Since no other nation would accept such currency, Sparta became completely self-sufficient. No foreign goods flooded the streets, and luxury disappeared. The desire for more money than was necessary became a stigma of the greatest disgrace.


Lycurgus divided all the land of Laconia equally between the Spartan citizens, each part providing just enough farmland to provide for his family. With possessions beyond this prohibited, what was the point of desiring wealth, when there was nothing to spend it on? Recalling the extravagant banquets in Asia, Lycurgus henceforth decreed that all men would live and dine together in common messes. Even the King would dine alongside the citizens in the mess, and each man would bring his share of food from his land. If any man had been out hunting, he would bring along his catch to the mess to share with his comrades. Excessive drinking, which Lycurgus saw as destructive to the mind and the body, was stopped. Lycurgus saw in many other nations, the young and the old mistrusted each other, and never mixed. Here in Sparta, young and old lived and dined together. The young listened in reverence to the stories and wisdom of the old, and the old had the joy of sharing their experiences and inspiring the young. Power at Sparta was now in the hands of the newly created Great Council, consisting of the two Kings and twenty eight elected elders, for whom the age of sixty was a minimum requirement. That way, Lycurgus reasoned, men would be motivated to lead virtuous lives for all of their years, not just a few, and their help of the young in the messes might be rewarded by a place on the council. The Elders could champion the people should the Kings fall to tyranny, or side with the Kings should democracy need to be resisted.

Satisfied that politics had been cured of its maladies, Lycurgus turned to his most legendary reforms. After all, he thought, why just change a state when you can change its people too? Seeing that all the evils that afflict nations stem from the evils of individuals, Lycurgus embarked on an unprecendented revolution. But this would be no mere toppling of a tyrant, only to be replaced by a greater one, such as those which have characterised almost every revolution in history. This time it would run far deeper, changing forever the way that people lived their very lives, and creating a new nation which would be feared and respected even two and half thousand years later...



                                          To be continued...


United Kingdom

On Sparta:
On Sparta (Penguin Classics)
(A unique insight into the stories, customs and founding of the Spartan state, written in ancient times)

United States

On Sparta:
On Sparta (Penguin Classics)
(A unique insight into the stories, customs and founding of the Spartan state, written in ancient times)

The Serpent and the Hammer

For a god to be humiliated by a lesser being was burden that weighed heavily upon the shoulders of Thor, Son of Odin and thunder god. Stung by his trials in the Giant Kingdom (for this story, please click here), he could scarcely look the other gods in the eye. So to lands afar the Thunderer cast his fearsome eye, in search of trials anew, and a chance to prove himself mightiest of the Aesir once and for all...

Thor and Hymir at the World Ocean
Image taken from the SÁM 66 manuscript

Not long did the Son of Odin delay in Asgard's golden fields. So swift was the Thunderer's leave, neither chariot nor retinue nor friend followed in the god's footsteps this time. Far and wide Thor travelled, descending through the Nine Worlds to the realm of Midgard, the earthly abode of men. His eyes roved hither and thither, but one thing alone caught his eye. There was, far below on the shores of the World Ocean, a giant tending his nets by the water's edge. Intrigued by the seemingly peaceable giant, the Son of Odin sought him out. Adopting the guise of a young man, Thor soared down to the Earth, making his approach. As his feet touched the sand, he bade greetings to the stranger. The giant jovially returned his warm words, introducing himself as Hymir. God and giant, Aesir and Jötunn, soon became something of friends, boy though the Thunder god was to Hymir's eyes. As night fell, the two dined merrily together, though Hymir was most shocked by the appetite of his 'youthful guest'. Voracious in his appetite, Thor had devoured two whole oxen, so great was the god's hunger. Startled, but impressed, Hymir reasoned that he would now have to venture out to hunt the next day. Dawn arose over Midgard, and over a fateful day. Thor arose quickly, asking Hymir if he might accompany him on the ocean today. Hymir, seeing the small stature of his guest, mournfully declared that the seas would be no place for a boy, "and thou wilt freeze, if I stay so long and so far out as I am wont". The Thunderer suppressed a powerful surge of anger at this insult, but, wary of revealing his true identity, maintained his calm demeanour. Replying that perhaps it would not be him to ask to row back first, the god asked what bait he might use. The giant, impressed by his guest's bravery, told him he may use any bait he wished. Turning to Hymir's vast herd of oxen, the Thunderer slew the mightiest of them, the bull Himinbrjotr. Cutting off the vast head, Thor took his bait, as the giant prepared his boat for the high seas.

Pushing out into the calm surf, Hymir began to row out into the great blue yonder. For a long while god and giant rode the waves in search of the fruits of the ocean, and very soon the shores of Midgard fell below the horizon behind. Expecting to see the young man shivering in the cold, Hymir was most surprised when he looked up to find his guest completely at ease, even perhaps a little bored, by the course of things. Casting his powerful nets overboard, Hymir readied himself. Not long had passed, when a sudden judder shook the small craft. Smirking broadly, the giant hauled two great whales from the depths, mightier a catch by far than any of made by men. Convinced that no other could surpass he, he who had spent many ages of the Nine Worlds aside the endless seas, Hymir eagerly bade Thor on. Taking up the oars, the Thunderer rowed hard, taking the small boat further and further from the shore.


Seeing the calmness of the surface turn to choppy waves in the distance, Hymir suddenly realised how far they had come. Turning to his guest, he warned that the open ocean was becoming dangerous. Had he but known that the Thunder god himself was with him, he would have known that the threat of violent storms was, for once, absent. But what the giant truly feared, and the Jötunn were not a race known for feeling emotion, were the horrors which lurked in the deeper places of the oceans. There were things more terrible than storms in the depths of the World Ocean, ancient terrors spoken of in the stories of the Old World, and one above all others, whose name Norse children feared to speak (about whom you can read here). But the lord of Thunder was unrelenting, replying that he desired to row much further yet. As the two drifted onward to the distant horizon, Hymir grew desperately afraid. Steeling himself, he chanced a glance over the side, and saw only the unyielding, inky blackness of the deep. Suddenly he became aware of how horribly small their boat was, and how incomprehensibly vast the ocean. A vulnerability and humility before the awesome scale of nature such as never he had felt before swept over the giant, and he felt his mouth grow dry.


After what seemed an age, when land was as a distant memory, or in another life, Thor stopped rowing. Seizing the bull's head, the Son of Odin hurled it overboard, keeping a firm grip upon the robust line he had tied to it. Giant and god waited. The calm breeze and the gentle lapping of the waves against the boat was, for what seemed forever, all that punctuated the otherwise deathly silence. Hymir's heart pounded in his ears. Soon, the giant noticed something odd. There were no fish around them anymore. All the sea birds had long fled. All around the boat, the choppy waves had fallen to serene peace. Never before had such tranquillity heralded such terror. Just then, it all happened so quickly that the giant could do nothing but look on. Suddenly, the line was wrenched from below with savage violence, as the World Ocean around them erupted into the fury of rapids. The line was yanked with such force that the Thunder god himself felt one of his feet smash through the wood below as he tried to brace, and his powerful fists slammed painfully upon the gunwales. Any other being, man, giant or god, would certainly have perished there and then, but not for nothing was Thor renowned across the Nine Worlds, and history, for his unrivalled strength and steadfast resolve. He had only a split second. With a roar that shook the cosmos to its very core, the Son of Odin heaved with all the might his divine sinews could muster. The surface of the World Ocean exploded in rage, as towering waves surged forth in all directions, as the very water was rent asunder. Hymir's cheeks turned pale at the monstrous sight now before him, as his greatest nightmare, and that of all who venture out onto the oceans, manifested before his eyes. The World Serpent, Jörmungandr himself, so vast that his body encircled the whole Earth and still able to take his own tail in his mouth, now fixed them with the glare which betrayed pure malice. It is said that none who had seen it would ever call anything else fearful again. The foul brood of Angrboða writhed against the line caught in its towering teeth, invisible to its gargantuan eyes. Venom so potent that neither mortal nor god was safe spat from Jörmungandr's cavernous mouth, as the ocean hissed wherever the droplets fell. Just then, the World Serpent lowered its evil crest, intent on dragging giant, god and boat to the very root of the ocean before devouring them. His disguise cast aside at last, Thor took up his mighty hammer Mjöllnir, drawing back for a blow that would change the course of everything:

Thor smites Jörmungandr
Painting by Johann Heinrich Füssli

" The venomous serpent, swiftly up

   to the boat did Thor, the bold one, pull;

  With his hammer, the loathly hill of the hair

  Of the brother of Fenrir, he smote from 
  above... "

          - THOR SMITES JöRMUNGANDR







Mjöllnir slammed into Jörmungandr's crown with irresistible force, as the World Serpent jerked, stunned. The hammer had conquered many fell creatures, but only a few moments now, and the Serpent would recover. Thor looked on triumphant, ready to reel in a catch beyond the wildest dreams of any being that could draw breath. But then, Hymir, his jealous, proud giant heart waxing strong at last, seeing the true nature of his companion, determined to deny him this great glory. Diving forward, the Jötunn, with one desperate swing, severed the line with his knife. Bellowing with rage, Thor hurled Mjöllnir at Jörmungandr, but too late! The instant his bonds were shattered, the World Serpent plunged to the black depths, and the hammer struck nothing but wave. His pride great, and his wound of suffering the greatest missed opportunity of his life raging in him, Thor turned and smashed his fist into Hymir's ear. Howling with laughter, pain and then fear, the giant was sent hurtling into the wine dark sea, down into the deep lair of the World Serpent.

As he soared back to Asgard, Thor cursed loudly. Never before had the Son of Odin known so great an anguish as he knew now. He had been robbed of glory by a giant once again. But, as the god rose higher into the skies, he did not see the far greater worry. For now he had made a personal enemy of the most terrible force in the cosmos, an enemy who was even now stirring at the root of the World Ocean, whose fury burned so terrible that the sea around him boiled. It is written that at Ragnarök, the end of the world, the two will face each other for the last time...

United Kingdom

The Prose Edda:
The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology (Penguin Classics)
(A collection of stories of the Norse gods and beings)

The Poetic Edda:

The Poetic Edda (Oxford World's Classics)

(A collection of the poems telling the stories of Norse Mythology)

United States

The Prose Edda:

The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology (Penguin Classics)

(A collection of stories of the Norse gods and beings)

The Poetic Edda:

The Poetic Edda (Oxford World's Classics)
(A collecrtion of the poems telling the stories of Norse Mythology)

The Judgement of Paris

It is a curious thing how great the influence of one person can be on the course of history. Though they may not know it at the time, one person truly can make all the difference. The Trojan War, the most iconic of its kind in history, which forever bound the great civilisations of the West, and whose heroes are spoken of in awe even today, began because of one such person. But the War (whose story begins here) found its origins in the most unlikely of places...

The Marriage of Thetis and Peleus
Painting by Hendrick de Clerck

One day, far distant in the mists of time, high on the peaks of Mount Ida, there was great jubilation. It was a joyful day, for it saw the wedding of the nymph Thetis to Peleus, a marriage which held the blessings of the gods of Olympus. Great would be their progeny indeed, for one day their union would give birth to the mightiest of champions - Achilles, whose name the world would ever after speak of in reverence. Men, nymphs, gods, goddesses and all manner of magical creatures came from far and wide to celebrate, bearing a dazzling array of gifts to honour the happy day. Even Ares, lord of war, and Artemis, chaste maiden of the hunt, were to be seen in the great ensemble. All were euphoric, the skies rang to the sound of music, and not a sad face was to be seen amid the revelry. All, that was, except for one. For, skulking in the shadows, was the only being who had not received an invitation. Looking on in cold fury at her rejection, Eris, the goddess of discord, whose evil ways had ever left her shunned amid the spirits of the world, conspired to take her revenge, and bring cruel chaos down upon the scene before her now. As she circled in the shade of the trees, she cast her thoughts to how she could bring her malevolent influence to bear. Perhaps she could spread foul rumours amongst the guests? Poison the minds of the many against their gracious hosts? Openly denounce the bridal pair? There was a dark moment, when her rage waxed grave indeed, when she considered, for one brief moment, going to the very depths of the world, to the deepest part of the Underworld, and breaking asunder the Gates of Tartarus, and so releasing the Titans from their infernal bonds, to be unleashed once more upon the world. It was a fortunate thing indeed, that her fear was too great to carry out this dark deed. Instead, her thoughts turned to discord, that thing at which she was adept at spreading above all others.

Taking a Golden Apple from the Garden of the Hesperides (of the very same tree which Heracles had once ventured to, for the story, please click here), the vengeful goddess inscribed upon it "For the fairest". Never before or again would one sentence bring such ruinous calamity upon the world. Eris, proud of her stratagem, took careful aim, hurling the fruit into the midst of the dancing goddesses. All were amazed at the shining seed now before them, but none more so than three of the greatest goddesses - Hera, Queen of the gods, Athena, goddess of wisdom and war and Aphrodite, goddess of lust. From the moment they set eyes upon it, each goddess claimed the Apple for their own. As discord and argument soon spread as to who should rightfully bear the fruit, the three goddesses turned to Zeus, King of all the gods, to judge himself. Knowing well the undying wrath he would earn from the two he did not choose, the Thunderer wisely refused. To a mortal man should fall this mighty burden, the god ruled, as he thought to himself who this soul could be.

There was, not far away on the slopes of Mount Ida, a young man tending his flocks as a faithful shepherd. But this man was no ordinary shepherd. Named Paris, he was an exile of royal blood, cast out of his homeland whilst still a baby. For long ago, the boy's mother, Queen Hecuba of the royal house of Troy, had experienced a terrible nightmare. Just before her son's birth, she saw a vision that she would give birth to a flaming torch. When she awoke with a start, she confided in her husband, King Priam. Priam decided to consult an Oracle as to what this strange portent could mean. The seer Aesacus, when the royal couple retold their worries to him, was gripped with anguish. The child that the Queen would soon bear, the prophet declared, would be the ruin of Troy. The seer urged them to kill the child as soon as it was born, and save Troy from her doom. The day came, however, when Paris entered the world, and from the moment Hecuba and Priam looked upon him, they could bring no harm upon their own flesh and blood. Despairing, Priam handed the child over to Agelaus, his chief herdsmen, to take him away. The shepherd took the young Paris far from Troy's towering heights, but as a he too looked upon the baby, he found that he could not bring himself to slay a child. Vowing to raise the child as his own, he took Paris into his care, where the two lived happily, with a simple life upon the slopes of Mount Ida. It was to Paris that the goddesses of Olympus came now, forever to change his destiny, and that of the world.

The Judgement of Paris
Painting by Rubens

It was with great fear that Paris beheld the sight of Hermes, messenger of the gods, bearing down upon him on that fateful day. " Fling away thy milking-pail and leave thy fair flocks and come hither and give decision as judge of the goddesses of heaven. Come hither and decide which is the more excellent beauty of face, and to the fairer give this apple’s lovely fruit ", the swift footed god declared. Paris stood, transfixed, hardly daring to question, even less refuse the command of Olympus. In a flash of blazing glory, the three goddesses appeared suddenly before him, in all their divine majesty. One by one, the goddesses approached, Athena, lady of war and wisdom first:

          " Come hither, son of Priam! leave the spouse of Zeus and heed not Aphrodite,
            queen of the bridal bower, but praise thou Athena who aids the prowess of men.
            They say that thou art a king and keepest the city of Troy. Come hither,
            and I will make thee the saviour of their city to men hard pressed:
            lest ever Enyo of grievous wrath weigh heavily upon thee.
            Hearken to me and I will teach thee war and prowess! "

Then came Hera, regal mistress of Olympus:

         " If thou wilt elect me and bestow on me the fruit of the fairer,
           I will make thee lord of all mine Asia. Scorn thou the works of battle.
           What has a king to do with war? A prince gives command both to the valiant
           and to the unwarlike. Not always are the squires of Athena foremost.
           Swift is the doom and death of the servants of Enyo! "

Finally, there stood Aphrodite, folly of all men, who simply looked Paris in the eyes, smiling, as she began to speak:

      " Accept me and forget wars: take my beauty and leave the sceptre
         and the land of Asia. I know not the works of battle.
         What has Aphrodite to do with shields? By beauty much more do women excel.
         In place of manly prowess I will give thee a lovely bride, and, instead of kingship,
         enter thou the bed of Helen. Lacedaemon, after Troy, shall see thee a bridegroom! "

Helen
Painting by Evelyn de Morgan

Little did Paris, or the other deities assembled know, that Aphrodite wore a girdle infused with a powerful enchantment. No man which looked upon its wearer could resist base temptation. Still did the words flow from Aphrodite as the son of Priam already offered the Apple to her. Triumphant, Aphrodite raised her glittering prize, mocking her competitors mercilessly. Athena was angered, but it was nothing compared with the fury of Hera. For from this moment the House of Troy and all her descendants had made an eternal enemy of the goddess, and her curse would plague the destiny of the Trojan race. Aphrodite turned to Paris, placing her blessing upon him, declaring that he had the heart of the most beautiful woman in the world. Her name was Helen. With this promise, the goddesses departed, leaving Paris severely shaken. All he could think of now was Helen, far away in the distant lands of Greece. Unable to turn his thoughts anywhere but to her, he resolved to seek her out. Little could he know now the whole world of pain that this decision would unleash...




United Kingdom

Colluthus:
Oppian. Colluthus. Tryphiodorus (Loeb Classical Library)
(The most poetic, and best preserved form of the story)

Colluthus:
http://www.theoi.com/Text/Colluthus.html
(A sample available to read online)

United States

Colluthus:
Oppian, Colluthus, Tryphiodorus (Loeb Classical Library No. 219)
(The most poetic, and best preserved form of the story)

Colluthus:
http://www.theoi.com/Text/Colluthus.html
(A sample available to read online)

The Temptation of Eve

His dark presence in Eden's verdant groves unveiled to the angels of the Lord, Satan cursed his brethren of old (for the previous episode in this story, please click here). In truth, deep down in his burdened heart, deepest sorrow welled up as his chance for redemption waned ever more remote. Now that he had seen the fields of Paradise with his own eyes, and the peace that could have been his, should have been his, his rage at the Most High burned anew, as his mind turned once again to malice...

The Angels vigilant
Engraving by Gustave Doré

Uriel, the Archangel of the Lord, unnerved by the ease at which the Morning Star had broken free of his infernal bonds, and cast his deception over him, sent word far and wide. Cherubim far and wide stood vigilant, wary that the eternal purity of the Garden, that abode of sanctity, had been breached. Meanwhile, high above, the Morning Star searched far and wide, all thought bent on bringing his fell task to fruition. For whilst he had plagued Eve with hideous nightmares, his final hand was stayed by the angels of the Lord. For seven days and seven nights he circled the Earth, casting his eye over all the Gates of Paradise, and on the eighth his vile stratagem came at last into his head. There lay not far away various of the fauna that called Eden home, and Satan cast his gaze upon them, and:



                           " With narrow search; and with inspection deep
                             Considered every creature, which of all
                             Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found
                             The Serpent subtlest beast of all the field... "
                                            - SATAN AND THE SERPENT

For within the wily snake, Satan saw its slender charm, its natural cunning and innate wit, and his mind was made. The Serpent would be the instrument of his fresh schemes, desperate to relieve his own suffering through the destruction of others as he was. Though in painful truth he remembered his humiliating fall from Heaven, he took fresh heart from the knowledge that he "in one night freed from servitude inglorious well nigh half th' angelic name". Where strength of arms failed, only by turning God's own creations against their master could he now seek solace through vengeance. Descending through the mists of the twilight, through the serpent's mouth passed that malevolent spirit as it slept. As Dawn arose over resplendent Eden, the serpent awoke, but its mind was no longer its own. "O foul descent!", Satan cried, "that I who erst contended with Gods to sit the highest, am now constrained into a beast!" As the perfumed scents of the bountiful trees swept through the Garden, the serpent froze, for it heard the footfalls of two approaching beings.

The Creation of Adam
Painting by Michelangelo

With the sun rising in the eastern skies, Adam, formed from God's own hand, and Eve, born of Adam's flesh, set about a new day in the Garden. Still shaken from the ghastly phantasmagoria which had wracked her dreams, Eve suggested to Adam that they divide their labours in Eden, so that they might better serve the command of the Lord. Adam thought back to the moment of his creation, and the Word of God to rule over the beings of the world. The warning of Raphael, however, still rang in his ears, that evil forces were at work, and that they should ever beware of its veiled presence, and stay together. Eve soothed her husband's fears however, reasoning that they themselves had inflicted no wrong upon this nameless evil. Why then, should it visit harm upon them? Reassured in his innocence, Adam, though harbouring secret fears at the back of his mind, relented. Cautioning once again on the danger of temptation of which the Archangel had spoken, Adam bade Eve farewell. As the first man strolled off into the undergrowth, little did he realise that ageless evil had already found them, and would soon bring about their utter ruin.

With Eve alone at last, Satan seized his chance. Flexing his newfound form, the Morning Star darted forward through the forest, though not on his underbelly as serpents do today, for this was an age before that accursed creature chewed the dust. There, "veiled in a cloud of fragrance", there she stood, framed by the finest roses. The striking sight before him could not fail to move the heart of Satan, for despite his betrayal and his shattered soul, he remained an angel still. Mourning that so fair a being as that before him must suffer, for God to suffer, the Morning Star came before the first woman.

As Eve stood tending the glorious wonders of the forest, her eyes caught sight of a serpent approaching. The snake licked the ground where she had stood, and his gentle expression could not help but heighten her curiosity.  To her profound amazement, the Serpent reared its slender head and spoke. "Wonder not, sov'reign mistress, if perhaps thou canst, who art sole wonder, much less arm thy looks, the Heav'n of mildness, with disdain, displeased that I approach thee thus...", spake the Serpent, and his words were straight and true, touching the heart of the first lady. "What may this mean? Language of man pronounced by tongue of brute, and human sense expressed?" she thought. How had this creature acquired the power of human speech and feeling? Sensing her question, the Serpent wove his trap:

                          " Till on a day roving the field, I chanced
                             A goodly tree far distant to behold
                             Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed... "
                                                  - SATAN SPEAKS OF THE TREE TO EVE

The Serpent told Eve of the great enlightenment that the fruit of the tree gave to him from the moment it touched his lips, how a great feeling of epiphany had gripped his coiled form, how he found the power of speech henceforth stood in place of a hiss, how a sudden realisation of a boundless new mind had come to him. Her curiosity rising further still, Eve asked the Serpent where one could find this most enchanting tree. The Serpent flattered Eve, telling her of its location, near the thicket "of blowing myrrh and balm".  "Lead then", quothed the first woman, and duly, the Serpent lead her on her road to ruin.

The Temptation of Eve
Painting by Michelangelo

When the clearing came, and Eve saw the tree of which the beguiling Serpent spoke, great was the despair that filled her. For the tree he had lead her to was the Tree of Knowledge, of which the Lord had forbidden them to eat. She told the Serpent of her fears, and the mandate of the Lord. Bracing himself greater than all the finest orators of mankind allied, and focusing his divine charisma beyond all restraint, Satan calmed her fears with soothing comfort:




   " Queen of this universe, do not believe those rigid threats of death; ye shall not die:
     How should ye? By the fruit? It gives you life to knowledge. By the Threat'ner?
     Look on me, Me who have touched and tasted, yet both live, and life more perfect
     have attained than Fate meant me, by vent'ring higher than my lot..."
                                          - THE TEMPTATION OF EVE

What harm was there, the Serpent spoke, in possessing the knowledge of good and evil? Won over by his charming words, the first woman, "her rash hand ito the fruit, she plucked, she ate: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat sighing through all her works gave signs of woe, that all was lost...". Victory at last in his rebellious grasp, Satan took his leave from the grove, forever to haunt the destiny of man as it was, as Eve gorged greedily upon the forbidden fruit. Never before had she tasted such a sweet thing before, and never would she ever taste sweetness again.

Barely a moment passed of the new accursed age, when Adam, born of the Lord's own hand, happened upon the blackened grove. Greeting her husband merrily, Eve joyfully proclaimed, "This tree is not as we are told, a tree of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown op'ning the way, but of divine effect to open eyes, and make them gods who taste...". But when the terrible truth of Eve's deed reached Adam's ears he was :

                                " Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill
                                   ran through his veins, and all his joints relaxed;
                                   From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Eve
                                   down dropped, and all the faded roses shed... "
                                                 - ADAM LEARNS THE TERRIBLE TRUTH

Raw anguish and terror course through Adam's veins, as mankind first felt remorse. The serene bliss of the Garden was at once shattered by the first man's cries of broken hope. Until now immortal as the spirits high above, now forever would the dark spectre of Death haunt man's destiny. But even now, Adam could not turn away from Eve, as he cried "Should God create another Eve , and I another rib afford, yet loss of thee would never from my heart: no, no, I feel the link of nature draw me: flesh of flesh, bone of my bone thou art , and from thy state mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe". Bound together more closely than man or woman ever was, Adam resolved to share Eve's fate through doom or redemption. Seeing his Paradise now truly lost, Adam took the fruit from Eve's outstretched palm, forever resigned to the coming storm...


United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Paradise Lost (Penguin Classics)
(Paradise Lost is written in English, so text choice is personal preference)

Oxford World's Classics:
Paradise Lost (Oxford World's Classics)
(Paradise Lost is written in English, so text choice is personal preference)

United States

Penguin Classics:
Paradise Lost (Penguin Classics)
(Paradise Lost is written in English, so text choice is personal preference)

Oxford World's Classics:
Paradise Lost (Oxford World's Classics)
(Paradise Lost is written in English, so text choice is personal preference)