At any given moment, more than 3 per cent of the UK population are thought to be suffering from depression. For some people, like Kirk Rutter, symptoms persist despite treatment. Could psilocybin – the psychedelic drug found in magic mushrooms – help to put an end to depression by ‘rebooting’ the brain?

Kirk never got over the death of his mother. When she passed away in 2011 after a long illness, the 47-year-old IT specialist kept himself busy by organising her funeral and dealing with the other administrative tasks that come with a death in the family. But while his father and brother managed to pick themselves up and move on, he struggled to come to terms with the loss.

“After the funeral was over there was nothing left to organise or create, and I found myself in a kind of void that just persisted until I was overwhelmed,” he says. “After six months I was still talking about her death, and I wondered whether I should be over it by now. Should I have moved on? Should I be better? But I didn’t really feel that way – I kept feeling worse and worse until I was just chronically sad all the time.”

Eventually, Kirk spiralled into a deep depression that reached into all areas of his life. He signed up for counselling and visited a therapist every week for a year. It didn’t work. His GP prescribed a number of different antidepressants, but they didn’t work either. “The drugs just turned me into a zombie,” he says. “And although I talked through everything else in my life during counselling, I just couldn’t talk about the grief. It was too difficult. When I felt it bubbling up I would just change the subject.”

Every year, thousands of people in the UK are diagnosed with depression and these numbers keep rising. While antidepressants are a common treatment, studies suggest that more than half of all patients don’t respond to the first drug they’re given. A significant proportion of people with depression fail to find something that works for them, ending up cycling through periods of treatment and relapse.

In search of a more effective approach, researchers at Imperial College London have been finding out whether the mind- and mood-altering properties of psychedelic drugs such as psilocybin (the active ingredient in magic mushrooms) could be helpful for treating psychiatric conditions. Led by Dr Robin Carhart-Harris, a team of researchers have been running a clinical trial testing the effects of psilocybin on a small group of people with intractable depression. People just like Kirk.

THE PSYCHEDELIC SPA

“We’d been doing brain imaging studies looking at the effects of psilocybin which suggested that it might have antidepressant effects,” explains Carhart-Harris. “We also knew that psychedelic drugs can dissolve the ego [the sense of ‘self’] temporarily. This is accompanied by the possibility of emotional, personal, philosophical and existential insight, so it was a case of joining the dots.”

Spurred on by a previous study showing that people who took psilocybin reported a long-term increase in psychological wellbeing and a trial showing the drug’s benefits for treating anxiety and depression in terminal cancer patients, Carhart-Harris put together a plan to test whether it could relieve treatment-resistant depression.

Despite receiving some funding from the Medical Research Council in 2012, the proposal was hampered by ethical and regulatory red tape, as well as the challenge of obtaining clinical-grade psilocybin. But after three frustrating years Carhart-Harris was finally able to start recruiting patients for his unconventional clinical trial, and Kirk was one of them.

“I was open to something potentially a bit more healing than just trying to gloss over the feelings or chemically dull them,” Kirk says. After an initial interview over the phone, he was invited to come to Imperial College’s clinical research facility in London for a longer discussion and a lengthy questionnaire. Next was an orientation session, allowing Kirk to get used to the environment in which the drug would be administered.

He was taught a grounding technique to combat anxiety and stay anchored in reality. Then came a blindfold and headphones playing a specially curated music selection ranging from ambient sounds and tribal rhythms to soaring opera, interspersed with short periods of silence. (Listen to the playlist at mendelkaelen.com/music.html)

“I went into this hospital room and it was done up like a psychedelic spa!” he laughs. “There were throws, imitation candles, aromatherapy machines – it was very relaxing. So, when it came to actually taking the first dose of psilocybin I felt reassured because I’d seen the room and heard the music, I’d been in that space and thought it was a nice environment.”

TRIPPING ON TRIAL

The researchers tested 19 volunteers with two doses of psilocybin – 10mg and 25mg – given a week apart, each with an MRI scan before and afterwards. While the first dose is relatively low so the participants get used to the sensation, the second one packs a bigger psychedelic punch.

“It’s a big trip, and it’s probably more than people would take recreationally,” explains Carhart-Harris.“ That’s the kind of dose required to produce ego dissolution, the sense of oneness that has been said to be at the core of what some people describe as a mystical experience on psychedelics. It’s a massive trip, but they’re doing it in a controlled way in a clinical research facility with psychiatrists, beautiful music, low lighting, nice furnishings, and an emergency medical response team on hand in case anything goes wrong.”

For Kirk, this higher dose produced a profound effect. “After taking the higher dose I started seeing this weird Sanskrit writing, then it got a lot busier and more psychedelic,” he says. “The music played a big part of the experience – it’s like a river guiding you through a landscape. I remember an operatic piece that felt like I was being lifted up and it was all washing over me, then it guided me to a sad place where all the grief came up. At one point my eyeshade was so wet I had to wring it out because I’d let go of so much sadness.”

This intense emotional release enabled Kirk to finally address the feelings he had buried since the death of his mother.

“Right afterwards I felt very relaxed and spaced out, and I had a really good sleep that night,” he says. “There was a lot of processing that happened, coming to terms with the grief. There will always be that sense of loss, but I’m not crushed by it like I was before and I’ve become much less withdrawn at work and socially. A week after the treatment I was out shopping with a friend and I just had this sensation of space around me. I realised it was a feeling of optimism that I hadn’t had for so long, and it felt really good.”

Overall, the results of the trial were impressive. Psilocybin caused no significant side effects other than mild nausea and headaches in some people, and didn’t lead to any unpleasant flashbacks. More importantly, it seemed to work. All the participants had a reduction in their depression symptoms, with those who had the most extreme psychedelic experiences having the greatest improvement – an effect that has persisted in the long term. Two years after taking part in the study, Kirk is still feeling well and hasn’t returned to taking antidepressants. Carhart-Harris also saw a difference in the brain scans of volunteers after they’d undergone the treatment. He noticed that certain networks in the brain seemed to break down under the influence of psilocybin and reformed again afterwards, particularly the default mode network – a system in the brain that is associated with our internal world and sense of self. He also saw a boost in responsiveness in a region of the brain called the amygdala, which is associated with emotions – the opposite of the emotional flattening that many people experience when taking conventional antidepressants.

“The default mode network is over-engaged in people with depression and it’s hard to turn it off, so they get stuck in a rut in their own head. When people are in the throes of an intense psychedelic experience the default mode network will be quite markedly disintegrated,” he says, pointing out that the people who showed the most clear reformation of the default mode network after taking the drug were those who improved most after treatment.

“With psilocybin, you take a system that is somehow functioning abnormally and shake it up in a controlled setting – you scramble it up, melt it, shake it up – and then you let it reformat, and maybe it resets in a way that is somehow healthier. There is a loss of sense of self and identity, but what replaces it is a sense of being connected to nature and other people and the Universe,” says Carhart-Harris.

DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME

Although the results from the trial are promising, Carhart-Harris cautions against trying psychedelics without medical supervision. For a start, psilocybin and magic mushrooms are Class A drugs in the UK and carry heavy penalties for possession or supply. There are also significant psychological risks.

“Psychedelics induce a state of sensitivity and vulnerability,” he explains. “People are in a state of special psychological plasticity just like children are, and they’re sensitive to context and emotion more than they ordinarily would be. It’s important that they are nurtured and protected – if the conditions aren’t right then the experience can be bad and you can potentially harm people.”

Carhart-Harris is planning a new trial which is due to start recruiting up to 50 patients in early 2018, comparing a single dose of psilocybin with a six-week course of the ‘gold standard’ antidepressant drug escitalopram. He also thinks that psilocybin therapy could be beneficial for many other psychological conditions involving embedded or repetitive thought processes, including anxiety, eating disorders, obsessive compulsive disorder, chronic pain and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). And he’s keen to explore whether it could help prevent people in the early stages of depression from sliding into the kind of deep despair that Kirk experienced.

“Prescriptions of antidepressants are going up year-on-year but a lot of people don’t want to take them – often for valid reasons – so we shouldn’t prevent them from having access to psilocybin treatment,” he says.

Yet despite the potential of the drug, funders and policymakers remain wary of psilocybin’s reputation, much of which stems from unchecked or unethical research practices dating back decades. For example, the US military is known to have carried out experiments aimed at weaponising hallucinogenic drugs including psilocybin, while Harvard psychologist Timothy Leary gained notoriety for his mind-expanding psychedelic explorations in the 1960s.

Due to the difficulties in gaining funding for his work, Carhart-Harris’s research is currently supported by private donations. A UK-based start-up company, Compass Pathways, is also seeking funding to carry out a larger-scale clinical trial of psilocybin across Europe. But although he’s excited about the potential for psychedelic drugs, Carhart-Harris also knows that the underlying research base needs to be solid, and a lot more work remains to be done.

“I’m not wanting to romanticise these compounds or preach about them – there are risks and things have to be done properly and carefully. This is a real opportunity for a major paradigm shift in psychiatry, but it needs to happen at the right pace. We can’t push it too hard too soon and repeat the mistakes of the past,” he says.


The Science of Psychedelics

At a molecular level, psilocybin works on the serotonin system in the brain. Serotonin is a neurotransmitter that sends signals between neighbouring nerve cells. It’s often described as the ‘happy chemical’, but in fact there is a complex and poorly understood relationship between serotonin and mood.

Psilocybin sticks to the serotonin 2A receptor – 1 of 14 different types of serotonin receptor found on nerve cells – and appears to induce a state known as plasticity, where systems and pathways in the brain can be reset. A principal system affected by psilocybin is the default mode network, which is involved in higher-level conscious functions including our sense of self (ego) and the story we construct about our identity and place in the world.

Depression is characterised by entrenched, intrusive thought patterns, reflected by abnormal activity in the default mode network. Under the influence of psilocybin, this network seems to temporarily dissolve and break down, leading to a loss of self-identity and a strong sense of interconnectedness with the rest of the world. It literally opens the mind.

By breaking down these embedded systems and allowing them to reform in a new way, psilocybin can help to ‘reset’ the brain. This could provide a way for people to break free from their depression and move towards healthier thought patterns.

Dr. Kat Arney

Written by Kat Arney in "BBC Focus" UK, issue 318, February, 2018,excerpts pp. 57-61. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

Andrew Curry

What stone toolmaking and neuroscience can tell us about what it means to be human.

Our ancestors stuck with Acheuleanesque hand axes longer than any other tool type. The distinctive axes were used for chopping and cutting all across Africa, Asia, and Europe for nearly 1.6 million years—from their appearance around 1.7 million years ago to 100,000 b.c. The tools support a rich tale. “I would argue that this is the most important period in human evolution,” says Putt. “Anatomy, behavior, cognition—all point to a more human type of being.”

The acheulean transition has sparked a long-running debate: What role, if any, did toolmaking play in our evolution? This is where it gets even more interesting. Early hominids must have been capable of making tools before they began making them. “You can’t have the behavior occurring before you have the capacity to produce that behavior,” says Emory University evolutionary anthropologist Dietrich Stout.

But once toolmaking began, it may have been driven by other abilities, coevolving with language, social interaction, advance planning, and other behaviors. Hominids who were able to quickly learn to make useful tools and then teach their offspring the skill would have had a better chance of passing their genes on. Natural selection, the theory goes, would favor the toolmakers who were able to both learn and communicate. “The idea is that stone tools and language coevolved in humans,” says Natalie Uomini, an archaeologist at the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History. “It’s one of the biggest open questions in human evolution right now.”

Over the past two decades, archaeologists have used neuroscience research to try to move beyond speculation. The field has progressed in fits and starts since the 1980s, when machines were first used to look at human brain activity in real time. Anthropologists suggested the technology’s potential as a research tool as early as 1990, but it took another decade for Emory’s Stout to publish the results of the first stone tool experiments that used a brain scanner.

Part of the delay had to do with the limitations of the technology. The most powerful and common brain scanning devices are functional MRI (fMRI) machines. MRI scanners use massive magnets that require people to lie absolutely still during scans, making direct observation of toolmaking challenging. Researchers have come up with some creative workarounds. In one early attempt, Stout had study participants make flint tools for 45 minutes. He then put them in a PET scanner, which measures the accumulation of glucose, the body’s basic fuel, in different parts of the brain. “The thought was that glucose would accumulate in the neurons that were most active,” Stout says.

Experimenting with modern people to draw conclusions about the deep past poses other problems. Stone toolmaking isn’t a common skill in modern times, for example, but Stout wanted to capture the brain activity associated with making the tool, not learning how to make it. So before they could be scanned, people needed to learn to knap flint—easier said than done. We may sneer at the supposed simplicity of “Stone Age” technology, but volunteers in one of Stout’s experiments needed an average of 167 hours of practice to produce passable Acheulean hand axes.

Today, a pile of broken rock 10 feet across and five inches deep—more than 3,000 pounds of chipped flint—outside Stout’s office at Emory testifies to the thousands of hours volunteers have put into learning to make tools. “I can explain golf in a few minutes, but getting your swing down can take years,” Stout says. “Toolmaking is difficult to do, comparable to a sports skill or playing a musical instrument.”

In other experiments, Stout trained participants to knap flint and then scanned them in an MRI machine while they watched videos of someone else making tools. Using such workarounds, Stout, Uomini, and others pinpointed areas in the brain that were particularly active during Acheulean toolmaking: the right inferior frontal gyrus, for example, a region that experiments have shown helps with impulse control and juggling multiple tasks.

Stout also showed that toolmaking is capable of rewiring the brain. In another experiment, brain scans showed that the more a person practiced knapping flint, the more brain matter built up in the regions responsible. And in a recently published study, Stout worked with primate specialists to show that the brain circuitry connecting the right inferior frontal gyrus to the rest of the brain was much more developed in humans than in chimps.

Altogether, Stout argues, there is powerful evidence that toolmaking helped shape the modern human brain. What Stout’s experiments haven’t shown yet is whether language was also a required part of the package. “It’s very controversial whether early hominin species had language,” says Uomini. “For me, the big question is, How do language and stone toolmaking draw on similar brain areas? Are they overlapping brain areas, or not?”

If they are, it would be reasonable to guess that language goes a long way back. Is it possibly a critical clue to our evolution as a species and what differentiates us from other animals, including our close primate relatives? John Gowlett, an anthropologist at the University of Liverpool, argues that the ability to plan chains of actions—such as those that go into forming sentences or making Acheulean tools—is an essentially human trait. “Animals like us are unleashed by language. We have past, present, and future,” Gowlett says. “Other animals are tied to the present.”

For the last eight years, Putt has been working to test the idea that tool use and language involve the same brain areas. Early on, she turned to a lab on the University of Iowa campus dedicated to using a new brain scan technology called functional near-infrared spectroscopy (fNIRS). Unlike the more familiar fMRI, which requires people to lie motionless in a huge apparatus, fNIRS is portable and allows subjects to move and work while wearing the scanner, whose sensors are nestled against the scalp using a special snug cap. The technique works by shining infrared light through the scalp and skull into the brain—certain wavelengths pass easily through skin and bone—and measuring how much light is absorbed.

The technique works because blood that is carrying oxygen soaks up light at a different rate than blood that has already delivered its payload of oxygen to active brain cells. Brain regions that are working stand out from regions at rest. “If you’re using one part of your brain more actively, it’s going to be more oxygenated,” Putt says. “We can measure in milliseconds what’s happening and pinpoint, with great accuracy, where it’s happening.”

Over the course of several years, Putt trained two different groups of volunteers to make Acheulean-style stone hand axes. Both groups watched a video of Alex Woods shot to show only his hands at work. The first group watched him while listening to his instructions; the second watched the same video, but with the sound turned off. At first, Woods was deeply skeptical. “Sit down with a bunch of students, with technology they hadn’t even seen, and try to get them to make it with no verbal instruction whatsoever?” he recalls thinking. “There’s no way.”

To his surprise, both groups managed to craft rudimentary hand axes. Once they had mastered the basics, Putt had them make the tools while wearing fNIRS sensors. Putt was looking for differences between the two groups. Her theory was that if language centers in the brain lit up regardless of whether participants learned with the sound on or off, it would be a strong clue that tool use and language were somehow related.

Instead, scans of dozens of participants showed that the brain activity of those who learned without hearing the instructions— without language, in other words—looked different. In the toolmakers who learned just by watching Woods, the brain’s language centers were quiet; in the scans of people who learned while listening, language centers lit up. What both did have in common was activity in areas that connect with working memory and the areas that process sounds and images. The results were counterintuitive. Learning to use and make Acheulean tools was not closely linked to language centers, as evolutionary anthropologists had assumed. “We’ve showed you can make a hand ax without language,” Putt says.

Rather, Putt’s scans suggest that in the absence of verbal instruction and language, the brain relies on a combination of working memory and motor control to make tools. Research has shown it’s the same network of neurons we use to make music. “Piano playing uses almost the identical network as toolmaking,” Putt says. “You’re coordinating your hands while keeping in mind all of these sub-goals.”

It’s an exciting result. Experiments on modern humans may never conclusively prove how our distant ancestors thought. But the insights archaeologists and neuroscientists are generating together are contributing to our understanding of what makes us human. And with neuroimaging techniques developing fast, their potential to answer questions about our deep past has barely been tapped. “The big picture is to look at other points in time. Were Neanderthals as smart as humans? We can test that, by comparing their tools to the Upper Paleolithic tools humans were making,” Putt says. “We’re focusing on one small snapshot, but humans have been evolving for millions of years.”



By Andrew Curry in "Archeology", USA, volume 71, n. 2, March/April 2018, excerpts pp. 43-45. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

Bread Stall, Pompeii

Evidence continues to reveal much about the quality of life of the residents of ancient Pompeii. The city created an intricate and robust system for the local production of food and wine. Researchers have long been aware of frescoes, found in many surviving houses and villas, depicting plants and the pleasure of eating and drinking. Remains of triclinia, or dining rooms, and of food stalls, bakeries, and shops selling the fish sauce garum are abundant.

Garden archaeology as a discipline was pioneered in Pompeii in the 1950s when archaeologist Wilhelmina Jashemski began to excavate areas between the remaining structures. She discovered that homeowners planted flowers, dietary staples, and even small vineyards. “From the oldest type of domestic vegetable garden, the hortus, to ornate temple gardens,” explains Betty Jo Mayeske, director of the Pompeii Food and Wine Project, “you see evidence of cultivation in nearly every available space in Pompeii.” It appears that both grain and grapes were grown in small, local contexts. “There was a bakery on practically every single corner and the mills were there too, as well as a counter room and large  ovens,” she says. “The whole production process took place there, and there are also several similar examples of small-scale vineyards.” One of Jashemski’s innovations was to apply the practice of making molds of the dead, known since the 1860s, to making molds of individual plants. “Casting had been done in cement and plaster on human remains for years,” Mayeske says, “but Jashemski used that technology to cast the plants’ roots, which helped definitively identify all of these gardens and vineyards.”

By Marley Brown in "Archeology", USA, volume 71, n. 2, March/April 2018, excerpts pp. 42. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

1. Why is air invisible?

Air is made up mostly of nitrogen and oxygen molecules that are spread too thinly to affect light noticeably by, say, altering its colour or intensity. Even so, air’s presence is revealed in hot weather through the shimmering effect called ‘heat haze’. This is the result of the heat causing fluctuations in the density of the air, which in turn affects its optical properties.

2. Why do oysters make pearls?

It’s an immune response designed to protect the oyster from a parasite or an injury (not just a grain of sand as is commonly believed). Cells from the mantle of the oyster form a pearl sac around the irritation. The pearl sac then secretes calcium carbonate and conchiolin protein that builds up in layers to form an impermeable barrier.

3. Can you melt wood?

No. Wood is mostly cellulose, lignin and water. If you heat wood, the water boils away first and then the lignin and cellulose (both long-chain organic molecules) will react with oxygen and burn. Even in a vacuum, these molecular chains are too long and tangled to wiggle free into the liquid phase before they reach temperatures high enough to break their bonds. Instead they break down into smaller substances, like methane and organic compounds containing carbon and hydrogen.

4. Do heat patches really help with muscle pain?

Although heat should not be used for a fresh injury, it can certainly be beneficial for longterm conditions. Heat patches dilate blood vessels, promoting blood flow and helping to relax painful muscles. Tissue injury activates nerve endings in the skin called nociceptors, which transmit signals to the brain to inform it of pain. At the same time, neurotransmitters initiate a reflex that causes muscles to contract at the injury site, often to the point of spasm.

Fortunately, heat can activate temperature-sensitive thermoreceptors, which initiate nerve signals to block those from nociceptors. Applying pressure also helps, by triggering nerve endings called proprioceptors. Activating the sets of receptors helps painful muscles to relax.

5. Is it possible to sleep with your eyes open?

Not normally, but there is a condition called nocturnal lagophthalmos where a sufferer is unable to shut their eyelids when asleep. According to one review, this occurs in up to 5 per cent of adults. This can be due to a variety of factors, including protruding eyes or abnormalities of the eyelids.

There are also cases in which the cause has not been established. Noctural lagophthalmos can lead to certain difficulties, from sore eyes to more severe problems such as the development of ulcers on the cornea. Do talk to your doctor if you are waking up with red or sore eyes or have been told by someone that you sleep with your eyes open.

6. Where does the nitrogen in the air come from?

Nitrogen makes up 78 per cent of the air we breathe, and it’s thought that most of it was initially trapped in the chunks of primordial rubble that formed the Earth. When they smashed together, they coalesced and their nitrogen content has been seeping out along the molten cracks in the planet’s crust ever since. Nitrogen can only be used by living organisms after it has been ‘fixed’ into more reactive compounds such as ammonia or oxides of nitrogen. Nitrogen fixation is carried out by bacteria, algae and human activity, and once organisms have benefited from it, some of the nitrogen compounds break down and go back into the atmosphere as nitrogen gas. Along with top-ups from volcanic eruptions, the ‘nitrogen cycle’ has kept the level pretty constant for at least 100 million years.

7. How large a telescope was needed to image an exoplanet?

The first-ever image of a planet beyond the Solar System was taken in 2005 by astronomers using the European Southern Observatory’s Very Large Telescope (VLT) in Chile. Known as 2M1207b, the planet is about 1.5 times bigger than Jupiter and around 170 light-years away. It was detected using one of the VLT’s four gigantic telescopes, whose light-gathering mirrors are an impressive 8.2 metres across.

8. Why do we get dizzy when we spin?

When you move your head, the acceleration is detected by hairs lining the acceleration is detect by hairs lining the side of fluid-filled tubes in your inner ear. If you spin for long enough, the brain gets desensitised to the constant turn signals from your ear, and adjusts to zero them out. When you stop, the ears correctly report zero turning, but your brain is still actively cancelling this out and so it thinks you are now spinning in the opposite direction.

9. Is it possible for chickens to lay eggs in space?

Only one bird has ever actually laid an egg in space. A quail aboard the Russian Soyuz TM-10 spacecraft laid an egg while travelling to the Mir space station in 1990. It seems likely that other birds would be able to physically lay eggs in zero-g, but successfully incubating those eggs is much harder. Experiments with both quail and chicken eggs in space show much higher rates of birth defects in the bird embryos.

10. Are there any studies on the best over-the-counter painkillers?

Experience of pain is highly subjective so it is difficult to say which are the best painkillers. Studies tend to focus on particular aches and pains. For example, an analysis by 'The Lancet' of thousands of trials suggested that paracetamol doesn’t touch pain from osteoarthritis but a max dose of a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory (NSAID) called diclofenac does the job. NSAIDs such as ibuprofen reduce inflammation and are best suited to muscular pain relief. The drugs block enzymes that produce hormone-like chemicals called prostaglandins, which promote inflammation, pain and fever. Meanwhile, paracetamol is most suited to headaches and reducing a high temperature.

11. How does trophy hunting affect wild animal populations?

Since the days of the Roman Empire, wild animals have been slaughtered to prove power and wealth. Bigger is better when it comes to this ‘sport’, which means that dominant, mature male rhinos, elephants, lions, leopards and other animals are the prime targets of hunters. The artificially premature loss of strong, healthy individuals takes vital genes out of the breeding pool which, over time, can result in an overall decline in body size and, where applicable, also horn or tusk size. Removing these frontline animals also undermines social cohesion and can leave members of prides and herds vulnerable to attack by other members of their own species. Although some argue that money from trophy hunting can help with conservation, there is not enough evidence to convince us that it can.

12. How thick is the thickest fog?

By definition, fog has a visibility of less than 1km, but it can get much thicker than that. The Met Office visibility scale runs down to a Category X fog, where visibility is less than 20m. If fog gets mixed with industrial pollution, it becomes smog and can be thicker still. During the Great Smog of 1952, drivers couldn’t see their own headlights!

13. By weight, which animal has the largest baby relative to body size?

Despite a kiwi being about the size of a chicken, the female lays an egg that is about half her weight! It’s so big because it has an enormous yolk, which sustains the chick for the first week of its life. Here you can see some other animals that have enormous babies, as well as those that have teeny tiny offspring (with humans thrown in for good measure)

Kiwi (egg)(1/2), Giraffe (1/10), Beluga whale (1/17), Human (1/22), Giant clam (1/500,000,000), Ocean sunfish (1/1,500,000), Red kangaroo (1/100,000), Honey possum (1/2,400). 

In "BBC Focus" UK, issue 318, February, 2018,excerpts pp. 81-86. Digitized, compiled, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

"Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away”— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

When I am fortunate enough to visit a really good market, Rialto in Venice for example, or Borough Market in London, the produce that stands out is that which has a brief seasonal presence and then promptly disappears. The all-year-round stalwarts like onions, carrots and potatoes don’t have anything like the sex appeal of those rare migrants with a short shelf life. To quote from 'Blade Runner' (1982) (and to paraphrase Edna St Vincent Millay), “the light that burns twice as bright burns half as long”.

Radicchio is one of those miraculous ingredients — ubiquitous in Italy, rare in the UK — that really does get my pulse racing when I find it at the market or greengrocer, usually from December to March. When the bounty is this precious, it is important not to mess around with it too much. The phrase “keep it simple” couldn’t be more apposite.

Take a glance at the Saint-Exupéry quote again. It applies to food, sure, but also to so much of what we experience in life, art primes — those that are only divisible by themselves or one. Chemists reserve their greatest admiration for the elements of the periodic table;chemicals so pure they can’t be made any simpler. How much more elegant is O (chemical symbol for pure oxygen) than CH3CH2OH (chemical symbol for a double G&T)? And in literature, while the novel is the juggernaut of verbal artistic expression, essential beauty is only really found in poetry, the sparsest literary form and the most emotional and elegant.

What I find particularly appealing about radicchio, certainly above its more common relative, chicory, is the inherent bitterness and, once cooked, the secondary sweetness. It is culinary alchemy. I’m convinced that the success of the Negroni, Italy’s most famous cocktail, is due in no small part to the fact that the drink achieves with spirits and vermouths what Mother Nature conjures effortlessly in radicchio.

This recipe is a delicious assembly of strong flavours that do justice to the stunningly bitter radicchio without overpowering it. If you struggle to find the Tardivo variety, you can use the torpedo-shaped Treviso. Speck is a tasty prosciutto from Alto Adige but, once again, you could substitute it with any good, salty, cured ham. Make sure you allow the ham and the Gorgonzola to come up to room temperature before using.

RECIPE

Radicchio, speck and Gorgonzola bruschetta

(Makes four)

• 4 slices sourdough (20cm long, 2cm thick)
• 1 small head Treviso or Tardivo radicchio
• 8 very thin slices speck
• 75g Gorgonzola cheese
• Half a clove of garlic
• Extra virgin olive oil
• Flaky sea salt
• Black pepper
• Small palmful chopped
• flat leaf parsley

Method

1. Toast the sourdough slices under a medium grill, turning once, until the surface of the bread is only just starting to turn golden. Rub one side of each slice briefly with the halved garlic. Set aside.

2. Separate about 16 fronds of radicchio from the head. Keep the remainder to roast later (or chop into a crunchy salad). Heat a good glug of olive oil in a frying pan over a medium heat. Gently sauté the radicchio with a generous pinch of salt until the purple leaves start to turn a warm reddish-brown, the colour of an aged Barolo. Remove and set aside on kitchen paper.

3. Take the four toasted sourdough slices, and layer the speck evenly on top of each. Crumble half the Gorgonzola gently between your fingers and thumb and scatter on top. Carefully place the wilted radicchio fronds onto the cheese.

4. Distribute the remaining Gorgonzola, drizzle on a little olive oil and finish with the chopped parsley and a flourish of freshly ground black pepper. (For a special treat, enjoy these bruschette with a Campari Spritz — they make beautifully bitter bedmates.)

By Russell Norman in "Esquire", UK. March 2018, excerpts pp. 66-67. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

Eat me

Turmeric might just be proof that the West is still playing centuries of catch up with the East. While urban coffee shops now proudly proffer every version of a turmeric latte, Indian mothers have nursed their sick children with haldi doodh – turmeric-infused warm milk – to get them back on their feet for generations.

The golden spice has always been celebrated for its healing power along with its intense colour and warming, slightly bitter taste. Like its cousin ginger, turmeric is a rooty rhizome, similarly branched with pale, papery skin. Cut it open, and the bright orange flesh is revealed. This is due to the presence of curcumin, the naturally produced chemical compound that creates the fluorescent hue. It has been used as a fabric dye for thousands of years – had the name sounded more romantic, monks’ saffron robes might have been more appropriately called turmeric robes.

Turmeric’s colouring properties have also made it popular in food across the whole of South Asia and the Middle East. What begins as a white-beige mixture of curry and rice becomes an attractive, sunshine-hued meal. Many Persian recipes use the powdered stuff with fried onion as their base, while in Vietnam it is called on to enhance the flavours and vibrancy of dishes such as banh xeo and banh khot. The staple Cambodian curry paste kroeung typically contains the fresh root, and in Indonesia it makes padang curries immediately recognisable.

But it is with India that turmeric is most associated. The subcontinent grows nearly 80 per cent of the planet’s supply – and consumes about the same proportion of it. Used for thousands of years in Ayurveda as well as in Siddha and Traditional Chinese Medicine, primarily to treat the gut, it is considered both an anti-inflammatory and a carminative (a substance relieving flatulence). In fact, its presence in so many meals could be to combat gut irritation and gas – two side effects of generously spiced food. Thankfully, there’s no need to track down fresh turmeric. While its flavour may be brighter, its healing qualities are both intensified and more easily released by the process involved in drying and grinding it.

It was in the very southern tip of Kerala that I first ate the perfect turmeric fish molee – a silky plate of delicate fish straight from the sea. If you think all curries have a lot of ingredients that are hard to come by, think again. This rewardingly simple bowl of ginger-and-chilli-laced curry is a homely dish in Kerala, found on every kitchen table. It often improves my own, too.

(By Joanna Weinberg)

Drink me

When it comes to the wine to accompany a turmeric fish curry, think wood. The poise of the wine has to be just right, the oak/fruit balance in perfect equilibrium. Too much wood and it’s blowsy, like chewing sawdust; too little and it lacks depth and bite. Ageing in oak barrels is, then, essential. On the delicate side is Paul Mas Réserve Languedoc Grenache Blanc/Marsanne/Vermentino 2016, only fermented in oak for one month, and the result is marvellous for £9.39 (Waitrose): subtly oily and finely textured with sufficient combativeness to handle that curry.

Grander, altogether gutsier yet elegant, is Chavy Chouet’s Bourgogne Blanc 2016, where the oak presence gives more opulence to the wine while allowing the fruit to show through. In the magnum (a double bottle) at M&S, it costs £36. Magnums are a presence on the table and fantastically practical when a big group come round for supper, and this fish curry is perfect for a crowd. Wine also ages differently in a larger bottle and so this one is a good candidate for cellaring.

But my favourite bottle for our fish curry is a dazzlingly complex Chardonnay from Piedmont. Poderi Aldo Conterno’s Bussiador 2012 is one of Italy’s greatest white wines, for it pulls off that trick of having the texture of a great Burgundy while not one whit betraying its northern Italian roots. It is intense, provocative, deep and rich, with undertones of burned butter and caramel – even a hint of mocha coffee as the wine develops in the glass – with layers of a surprisingly mineralised freshness.

It is young and will, if laid down, mature for 10 to 15 years before it begins to hint at becoming funky. And as for the wood elements, this is where winemaker Stefano Conterno has been masterly. He develops the drink in various kinds of oak barrels, such as ones from the forests of Allier in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes and Vosges near Champagne. What we end up with is a luxurious white of huge presence, possessing power with precise balance.

This is a wine to not only drink with a fish-curry feast, but to continue with for a long time afterwards. Each glass repays reflection, it has so much to say for itself. The 2012 vintage costs £48.50 the bottle from winedirect.co.uk and though the 2013 has also been released, I prefer the older vintage. But do years matter with a wine like this? If a vintage wasn’t good enough, the Conterno family would never put their name to a single bottle of a Bussiador Chardonnay.

(By Malcolm Gluck)

In "Conde Nast Traveller", UK, March 2018. excerpts p. 141. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

Fattened in autumn for the lean winter ahead, a lone buffalo, or bison, can yield as much as 800 pounds of edible meat, enough to feed a family for weeks. The meat gathered from a buffalo jump—a cliff over which Plains Indians historically drove bison en masse to their deaths—was enough to sustain an empire. A single stampede of 200 animals yielded some 160,000 pounds of meat, ranking buffalo jumps among history’s most productive means of slaughter. New research at such sites across North America suggests these communal hunts were not only about food—they also enabled tribal leaders to amass “buffalo wealth” and rise to prominence.

According to Blackfeet (known as Blackfoot in Canada) tradition, when the first people asked their creator, Napi (“Old Man”), what they would eat, he shaped buffalo from clay and brought them to life. “These are your food,” he told them. When the people asked how they were to slaughter the buffalo, Napi directed them to run the animals over a cliff and harvest the meat. Several hundred ancient buffalo jump sites span the grasslands. The granddaddy of all known sites is Head-Smashed-In, a 1,000-foot-wide ridge in the Porcupine Hills of southwest Alberta, Canada, roughly an hour’s drive north of the Montana border. At the base of its sandstone cliffs lay more than 30 vertical feet of accumulated buffalo bones. Researchers estimate that over some six millennia Plains Indians slaughtered upward of 125,000 animals at Head-Smashed-In.

The precipice at the heart of a buffalo jump—which the Blackfeet referred to as a piskun (loosely translated as “deep blood kettle”)—represented the endpoint of months of preparation and thousands of square miles of human manipulation. How did tribes manage such large-scale hunting efforts? As with a hearty meal of roasted buffalo tongue (a Plains Indian delicacy), they began with fire. Months in advance of the hunt they would burn grassland “gathering basins” to encourage the lush growth that attracted big herds. The gathering basin just west of Head-Smashed-In encompasses some 15 square miles bordered by flowing water (adult bison eat more than 20 pounds of grass and drink 8 gallons of water a day—requirements satisfied within reasonable stampeding distance from the cliffs).

Working in tandem, hunters dressed in wolf skins and buffalo hides would approach a grazing herd, employing a combination of fear and attraction to drive them into converging rows of stone cairns, or rock piles. Such drive lanes capitalized on big mammal behavioral ecology and their propensity to run when confused. “Their hunt worked,” wrote Dale Lott, a biologist who spent his life observing buffalo in western Montana’s National Bison Range, “because they had eavesdropped on the whispers from the bison’s phylogenic history and turned those whispers to their advantage.” To be specific, the Plains Indians had conceived a hunting tactic based on their quarry’s evolutionary response to predation from wolves, the buffalo’s onetime leading predator. The hunters’ lanes of stacked stones, sticks, dung and flapping ribbons, spaced 5 to 10 yards apart, were enough to spook a herd of cows and calves, sending them careening down the lanes like shaggy bowling balls to a cliff edge. Thousands of such cairns, comprising some 6 miles of drive lanes, radiate in toward the cliffs at Head-Smashed-In.

Another component of buffalo jumps that exploits bison biology involves the animal’s poor eyesight. As at several other buffalo jumps across North America, Head-Smashed-In presented an optical illusion to running animals: As they raced down the lanes, it appeared the prairie extended to the horizonthat is, until the drop suddenly materialized underfoot. Even if animals at the head of a large stampede were able to stop in time to avoid the fall, the many tons of galloping momentum behind them inevitably spelled doom for the herd.

When executed properly, buffalo jumps were unrivaled means of food production. In 1792 Peter Fidler of the Hudson’s Bay Co. observed that while the hunts often failed, successful jumps killed hundreds of animals at a time on the northern Plains of what would become Alberta and Montana. He described one such Creek Indian jump, over which whole herds had broken their legs, necks and other parts in the fall: “Vast quantities of bones was laying there that had been drove before the rock.” In the early 1800s Captain Meriwether Lewis of Corps of Discovery fame noted that Indian hunters along the Missouri River had also destroyed entire herds at a stroke. Aside from these accounts, there are few written records of buffalo jumps, let alone specifics about their role in Indian culture. Historians and archaeologists had long assumed buffalo jumps were purely subsistence enterprises, prehistoric food factories that represented the advent of commercialized meat acquisition on the prairies. But anthropology professor María Nieves Zedeño of the University of Arizona and her team of archaeologists and historians are illuminating a social dimension of these cooperative hunting events.

Zedeño asserts that Plains Indians in the Alberta and Montana foothills (which collectively contain more than 200 recorded buffalo jumps) coordinated mass labor to erect monumental-scale drive lanes and processing camps that not only managed the movement of buffalo but controlled “the flow of friend and foe through prime hunting grounds.” Her team’s use of emerging technologies to map drive lanes, ceremonial features (like rock art panels and vision quest sites) and the jumps themselves reveals the communal buffalo hunts to be far more socially complex than previously imagined. Buffalo jumps marked the boundaries of protected territories and were organized by tribal leaders to maintain hunting grounds, consolidate power and suppress subordinates. Placing them in global context, in an era when the Egyptian pharaohs proclaimed their immortality with newly built pyramids and Chinese emperors advertised their prestige in lavish ivory and jade, the roaming prairie elite measured their might in meat. They used both fresh and dried bison (pemmican) as a trade commodity, to form bonds with allies and in payment for future labor.

The ability and knowledge to conduct successful buffalo jumps solidified a group’s dominance over a region and were highly esteemed traits in that time and place, much as they were for the modern-era Blackfeet/Blackfoot of Montana and Alberta.

Jack Brink, curator emeritus of the Royal Alberta Museum and author of the 2008 book Imagining Head-Smashed-In, estimates that over the nearly 6,000 years the site was in use, the resident Indians employed some 7,300 fire pits and 6 million pounds of fire-cracked rock (heated in fires and then dropped into water-filled boiling pits) to prepare close to 100 million pounds of buffalo. Only the politically savvy could muster that kind of labor and distribute the meat. With surplus food in hand, such leaders extended their control over the northern prairies—a theory supported archaeologically by the recovery in Alberta of exotic stone from the Dakotas for making tools, seashells from both coasts and other raw materials indicative of widespread trading networks and shifting alliances among nomadic empires.

Canada established Head-Smashed-In as a national historic site in 1968, and UNESCO named it a world heritage site in 1981. A seven-tiered interpretive center opened in 1987 to relate the history of the buffalo jump. Assistant professor Shabnam Dailoo, who studies cultural landscapes at Alberta’s Athabasca University, praises the center and historic remains at Head-Smashed-In for interweaving the region’s natural and cultural history and preserving it for future generations like a photograph that anchors a memory. More than 2 million people have visited the site to hear the evolving history and ongoing story of the buffalo, human hunters and the landscape.

Professor Zedeño suggests storytellers and listeners alike look beyond the artifacts and bones to appreciate the cultural landscapes at buffalo jumps. In use until the widespread extermination of buffalo in the 1870s, such sites were not only food factories but also places where people met to build social alliances and exchange information, pouring them onto a landscape like blood on the rocks. Head-Smashed-In is a sacred site where culture and nature blended and influenced each other over more than 200 human generations. It’s a place where great nomadic empires rose and fell.



Buffalo Hunting over the Ages

Buffalo have successfully fled from predatory species on the prairies for millennia. The trick for human hunters was to impede their movement long enough to kill them. Large-scale communal buffalo hunting often relied on natural features of one sort or another. Among the earliest such landforms they employed were arroyos, steep-sided gullies into which they drove and penned small herds. Oklahoma boasts some arroyo traps dating back 11,000 years. In that era Plains Indians from Wyoming to Alberta also used sand dunes to corral bison.

The Indians erected corrals, or pounds, typically at the end of a long natural or artificial pathway that gradually restricted the lateral movement and pace of running herds. Such pounds were in use some 9,000 years ago and reportedly remained the most common buffalo trap when Europeans arrived on the prairies. In 1858 Canadian geologist and explorer Henry Youle Hind described the shocking sight of a 200-foot-wide circular timber pound in southern Alberta amid which lay the corpses of more than 200 bison: “From old bulls to calves of 3 months old, animals of every age were huddled together in all the forced attitudes of violent death. Some lay on their backs, with eyes starting from their heads and tongue thrust out through clotted gore.”

Some three millennia ago the use of buffalo jumps escalated to industrial proportions. Jumping peaked about 1,000 years ago, providing bison meat and hides to an interlinked commercial network that reportedly spanned the continent. With the reintroduction of the horse from Europe, buffalo drives became even more efficient. Legend has it Blackfeet buffalo caller Many Tail Feathers suspended the use of pounds and jumps in the late 19th century after dreaming that horses rendered such methods too destructive.

Finally, in the late 19th century commercial hunters swept down on the prairies in search of meat and hides for the fur trade and industrial use. In 1840 one Métis party scouring the prairie between present-day Manitoba and the Dakotas comprised 1,630 members, including 400 mounted hunters who killed more than 1,000 bison in a single day’s outing. In the three centuries following European contact commercial hunters reduced the estimated 30 million buffalo on the plains to a few hundred animals. Thanks to farming efforts, the American and Canadian bison populations have since rebounded to 150,000 and 125,000 animals, respectively, spread across all 50 states and 10 provinces.

By Todd Kristensen in "Wild West", USA, volume 30, n. 6, April 2018, excerpts pp. 38-45. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

A runny nose and a sore throat. Today, after catching a cold, all you can do is drink a hot cup of tea, but researchers are testing several effective treatments, and in a few years, avaccine may be available against the condition.

The commuters stand close to each other in the bus, and the damp oozes from their wet coats. Here and there, people take a handkerchief out of their pockets and rub it against their runny noses. Suddenly, a violent sneeze resounds through the bus. More than 100,000 cold virus particles fly out of the mouth of the sneezing person at a speed of approx. 100 km/h. Some of the particles land on the posts, which the passengers hold on to, and here, they can infect anybody who comes into contact with them during the next two days.

Only few people make it through the winter without suffering from a cold, and many of us fall ill two-four times a year. Fortunately, it is not that dangerous to catch a cold, but unlike many more severe illnesses, a common cold cannot be prevented or cured. At present, if you are infected, you can only wait until the snot stops running out of your nose after a few days.

Now, however, researchers are testing a range of promising cold medicines, and if some of them live up to the expectations, we will, in a few years’ time, be able to take a pill when we feel the first itching in the back of the throat, or even see our doctor to be vaccinated against most of the virus strains.

200 VIRUSES MAKE US CATCH A COLD

The common cold costs society billions every year. An American study shows that, on average, an adult wastes ten working hours every year because of the condition. Only one fourth of the time lost is spent under the covers at home. Most of the time is wasted when the infected people come to work, yet are so snotty and weakened by coughing or sore throats that they are less productive than normally.

The common cold is the most widespread infectious disease in the world; the reason being, among other things, that the condition is not caused by one particular virus, but by numerous different viruses. If, for example, you have fallen ill once due to rhinovirus HRV-A67, you have produced antibodies against it and will be immune to a subsequent attack. Yet, although HRV-A67 can no longer make you ill, your body remains completely unprepared for an attack by coronavirus HCoV-229E or any other of the approx. 200 common cold viruses that the researchers have identified so far.

Common to the many cold viruses is that they infect the cells in the mucosa of the nose and throat and develop the typical symptoms such as a runny nose and coughing. But this is where the similarities end. Effective medication against a cold should therefore not target one virus very precisely; rather use a scatter-gun approach and target the entire gang of cold viruses. This is why there is not yet a vaccine against common cold. Vaccines target very specifically and must be tailored to one single virus. For influenza, doctors can pinpoint one virus strain, which will probably hit us in the coming winter,and develop a vaccine against it. However, to effectively protect us against cold, the doctors would, in principle, need to have over 200 vaccines.

Yet, researchers do see a light in the darkness, since 99 of the known cold viruses are closely related and belong to the group of rhinovirus. Together, they are the cause of some 40 % of all cases of common cold, and they are so similar that it may be possible to develop a common cure against all of them.

PROMISING VACCINE WORKS ON MICE

In 2017, Professor of Immunology Rudolf Valenta from the Medical University of Vienna, Austria, took out a patent on a new vaccine, which aims to hit as many of the 99 rhinoviruses as possible. So far, the vaccine has been tested on mice and rabbits and has been effective against at least five of the stubborn viruses. But much work remains to be done by the researcher to optimise the vaccine so that it can defeat all of them, and then it has to be tested on test subjects. Valenta hopes that, at best, the vaccine will be approved for humans in 6-8 years.

An effective vaccine will be the ultimate cure for a common cold, as it will make people immune and prevent the condition from taking hold at all. But some people are naturally almost immune to catching a cold, and now researchers are trying to uncover the secret behind their invulnerability.

In 2013, Professor Sheldon Cohen of the Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, USA, recruited 152 healthy test subjects who accepted to have rhinovirus injected directly into their noses. In nearly a third, the virus did not take hold, and when the researchers studied cells from them in a microscope, a clear pattern emerged, showing who were infected, and who were not.

Cohen focused on the chromosomes, which are the carriers of our genes, in the white blood cells of the immune system. More precisely, he studied the so-called telomeres, which are placed at the end of the chromosomes like a kind of cap, which can be compared to the hard bit at the end of a shoelace. The telomeres in the test subjects were not of the same length, and it turned out that people with the shortest telomeres were at greater risk of catching a cold. 77 % developed an infection, while only half of the persons with the longest telomeres did.

It also appeared that those with the shortest telomeres were twice as likely to develop actual cold symptoms compared those who had the longest ones. Thus, the study indicates that immune cells with short telomeres are less efficient when it comes to fighting cold virus.

NEW MEDICINE ATTACKS THE VIRUS

In addition to a vaccine, researchers are working on several promising drugs to target cold viruses – mainly rhinovirus – even before it has made its way into the cells of the mucosa and started an infection.

When the rhinovirus is to infect a cell, it uses a kind of injection needle to inject its genetic material into the cell, where it assumes control and starts a production of thousands of new virus particles. The injection needle is a protein called VP4, which is placed inside the virus particle behind an-other protein, VP1. The VP1 sits in groups of five and makes up part of the virus particle. shell. For the injection needle to emerge, the five VP1 proteins need to slide apart and form an opening. Yet, this may be prevented by a new experimental drug, WIN 52084.

Other researchers are developing new weapons, which do not attack the rhinovirus, until they have entered the cell and are about to multiply. The gemcitabine substance prevents the formation of new copies of its genome inside the cell, and in 2017, South Korean researchers showed that this is a promising strategy. The researchers infected mice with rhinovirus and then injected gemcitabine directly into their noses. Remarkably, the substance completely prevented the infection from taking hold, meaning that the rhinovirus could not be traced at all in the mouse after eight hours.

INFECTED SNEEZE ON DOOR HANDLES

When a person suffering from a cold sneezes, thousands of virus particles can hover in the air for hours and infect people who inhale them. In 80 % of the cases, however, the infection is transferred via virus particles that attach to e.g. door handles, light switches or banisters. When touching the virus-infected surfaces, we get virus on our hands, which will invariably come into contact with our mouths, noses or eyes, and from here, the virus can make its way in to the respiratory passages.

An American study has documented that the risk of infection can be considerably reduced if we wash our hands several times a day. In the study, school classes from five primary and secondary schools were divided into two groups. The pupils in the one group were asked to be extra careful about washing their hands, and this simple piece of advice halved their number of sick days.

So while the researchers are busy developing effective drugs against cold viruses, the best piece of advice is to spend some of the waiting time washing your hands thoroughly.

By Gorm Palmgren in "Science Illustrated", Australia, issue 56, December, 2017, excerpts pp. 72-76. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

Easter Islands - Moais

If you thought ancient monuments were built to glorify gods and kings, think again.

At Poverty Point, Louisiana, a remarkable monument overlooks a bend in the Mississippi river. Built around 3500 years ago, entirely from earth, it consists of six concentric, semicircular ridges radiating out from a central “plaza”, together with five mounds. Mound A, the largest, towers 22 metres– the equivalent of a seven storey building – over the lush floodplain. North America wouldn’t see another monument on this scale for 2000 years.

The Poverty Point earth works are not just impressive, they are also intriguing. Ancient monuments have always been regarded as products of large,complex, hierarchical societies, built as tributes to gods and kings. In what might be called the Ozymandias theory of construction, they are seen as physical manifestations of a powerful chief’s authority as in an evocative line about a mighty ruined statue in a poem by Shelley, “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

But Poverty Point was constructed by hunter-gatherers, and they are famously egalitarian. They may have had local leaders, but these would not have exerted a commanding influence over their small groups. Sow ho, or what, motivated building on such a grand scale here?

A new and outlandish idea could answer that question. If correct, it will overturn our preconceptions about the purpose of ancient monuments, and could even hold lessons to help us improve modern societies.

Archaeologists have been excavating at Poverty Point for more than a century. However, the truly remarkable nature of the monument emerged only a few years ago when a team led by Tristram Kidder of Washington University in St Louis, Missouri, drilled into Mound A. They saw that it consisted of neatly striated bands of coloured soil, as if people had alternately added layers drawn from different sources. It rains a lot in the Lower Mississippi valley, 3500 years ago as now, but there was no sign that the layers had bled into each other, as you might expect if it had rained during the construction. The archaeologists came to a startling conclusion: Mound A must have been built in one fell swoop, between rains. “It could have been built in as little as 30 days, and probably in no more than 90,” says Kidder.

This has big implications. Mound A contains nearly 240,000 cubic metres of earth, the equivalent of 32,000 standard dumper truck loads. There were no dumper trucks then, of course, nor earthmovers, packmules or wheelbarrows. Assuming, conservatively, that it was built in 90 days, Kidder’s group calculated that around 3000 basket-wielding individuals would have been needed to get the job done. The numbers are rough and ready, but given that people probably travelled in family groups, as many as 9000 may have assembled at Poverty Point for the duration. “If that’s true, it was an extraordinarily large gathering for hunter-gatherers,” says Kidder.

They would have been there of their own free will, not at a mighty ruler’s beck and call. Why? Another archaeologist, Carl Lipo of Binghamton University in New York, thinks he has the answer. He believes it is the same reason that the people of Easter Island built their famous stone heads. In 2001,when Lipo first went to Rapa Nui – as Easter Island is known locally – the prevailing idea was that the colossal statues, or moai, had been rolled into place using logs, and that the resulting depletion of trees eventually contributed to the collapse of the island’s human population. Lipo and fellow archaeologist Terry Hunt, now at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, showed that moai could have been “walked” upright into place by small, cooperating bands of people using ropes, with no need for trees. In their 2011 book, 'The Statues that Walked', they argued further that statue-making benefited these people by directing their energy into peaceful interactions and allowing them to share information and sexual partners. Far from causing their downfall,when the going got tough, Easter Islanders depended on this cooperation. They only stopped making statues, Lipo and Hunt claimed, precisely because life became easy – in part due to the domestication of plants – and it was no longer so important that they work together.

Likewise, according to Lipo, Mound A was not the product of top-down power play, but of bottom-up cooperation. In other words, it was a giant team-building exercise instigated by the people who did the work. “We’re starting to see that there’s this whole other condition under which these monuments get constructed, and it’s very different from the traditional story,”he says.

If this idea is correct, it will require“a pretty large shift in thinking”, says evolutionary biologist David Sloan Wilson, also at Binghamton University. But, he adds, it does seem to explain several long-standing puzzles connected with ancient monuments. One is why their builders so often destroyed and rebuilt them.

A prime example of this can be found at the temple complex of Göbekli Tepe in south east Turkey,which at more than 11,000 years old is the earliest known example of monumental architecture. Since excavation started there in the mid-1990s, archaeologists have uncovered nine enclosures formed of massive stone pillars carved with pictograms and animal-themed reliefs. Given the size of these pillars – their average weight is 30 tonnes – a considerable work force would have been needed to transport them from nearby quarries.Yet every so often the workers filled in the enclosures with rubble and built new ones, sometimes even before an enclosure was finished.

The apparent disposability of these monumentsmakes sense if the primary goal was building a team rather than a lasting structure. Göbekli Tepe was created by hunter-gatherers and there was permanent activity at the site for 1500 years, says Oliver Dietrich of the German Archaeological Institute in Berlin,who works there. Over this same period, plants and animals were being domesticated in that part of the world, ushering in farming and a more sedentary lifestyle.“There is good evidence that around 8000 BC this process was finished,”says Dietrich.“That is the moment when building activities at Göbekli Tepe stop,”he adds, in an echo of Lipo’s interpretation of what happened on Easter Island.

If human bonding was the objective, then you might also predict that celebrating a project’s completion was an important part of the process – perhaps even an incentive to take part in the first place.A big party would have allowed links forged through collaborative toil to bear fruit, cementing social ties and perhaps leading to sexual liaisons. The rubble filling the enclosures at Göbekli Tepe suggests celebrations took place: it is riddled with fragments of carbonised bones from aurochs and gazelle. Dietrich and Jens Notroff, also at the German Archaeological Institute, have found the remains of limestone vessels, too, bearing traces of fermented barley – otherwise known as beer. The largest enclosure contains 500 cubic metres – 65 dumper truck loads – of organic debris. That’s a truly gargantuan feast.

Dietrich and Notroff share Lipo’s view that the need to cooperate is what drove these monumentalists. As you might expect when a major shift in thinking is on the table, not everyone agrees. The sceptics include Kidder. For him, the interesting question is not “Did cooperative building promote group survival?” but “What did the builders think they were doing?” All human behaviour comes down to a quest for sex or food in the end, he says. As for why hunter-gatherers came to Poverty Point, he and his colleagues have suggested it was a pilgrimage site that drew people from right across eastern North America.

Another sceptic is Mike Parker Pearson, an archaeologist at University College London who has worked at Stonehenge. Current evidence points to an astonishing scenario in which Stonehenge was erected twice: first at a site yet to be identified, but probably near where the stone was quarried in Wales, and a second time at its familiar Salisbury plain location. That might indicate a disposable structure, he says, but in fact Stonehenge is unique among Britain’s hundreds of known stone and wood circles in having been dismantled and rebuilt. “My guess is that we are looking at some pretty extraordinary situation,” he says.

Whatever that was, Parker Pearson believes Stonehenge was built to last. His group has compared it with Neolithic timber circles nearby and found the choice ofmaterial to be highly significant: wood represented the domain of the living and stone that of the dead. “It looks as if Stonehenge was a place of the ancestors, where stone symbolised permanence and eternity,” he says. Likewise, the filling in of enclosures at Göbekli Tepe could be seen as preserving an ancestral space, rather than destroying it. Subsequent generations may have built over them with the idea of reclaiming or reusing that space, Parker Pearson suggests.

None of these criticisms is incompatible with the cooperation hypothesis, Lipo says. For him, it is crucial to distinguish between short-range and long-range causes, and to understand that while the builders were well aware of the short-range drivers of their behaviour – the demands of a certain ritual, say – the long-range drivers may have been opaque to them. “You have to think about why that ritual was in that place at that time,” he says. Why, for example, is there no equivalent of the moai on other Pacific islands that shared Rapa Nui’s flora, fauna and belief systems? It must have something to do with its exceptional remoteness, he says. With little or no chance of obtaining resources from outside, or of emigration, cooperation was essential. “That’s the island that is perfectly suited for this being a solution to living over the long run.”

It is no coincidence, in Lipo’s view, that the “fancy stuff” tends to crop up at the fringes of the habitable zone. Stonehenge, for example, was built at the northern limit of Neolithic farming, where people were scattered sparsely across the landscape. Here, a frost could seriously damage productivity, so mutual support often spelled the difference between life and death. In North America, too, you see prehistoric monument-building moving north as domestication spread and more of the continent became habitable.

Even if Lipo is correct, surely his idea doesn’t apply to monuments left by large, complex and highly stratified societies. The Egyptian pyramids, for example, look  like a clear-cut case of a despotic vanity project – a notion encapsulated in the adjective “pharaonic” and reinforced by Hollywood films. Nevertheless, Lipo sees signs of grass-roots cooperation here too.

Modern monuments

Since the early 2000s, excavations of the so-called “slave” quarters at Giza have been producing evidence that the permanent core of the labour force weren’t slaves at all, but paid volunteers. The work was undoubtedly hard, but their village was comfortable and well provisioned, and they were free to come and go. Comparisons of DNA extracted from their bones with that of modern Egyptians suggested that they came from all over the empire. Mingling at Giza with those from distant parts probably reinforced their common identity as subjects of the pharaoh, and people would have carried this identity, along with newly acquired skills and tastes, home with them. Moreover, in 1999, Sarah Sterling, then at the University of Washington in Seattle, showed that the most intense period of pyramid construction – between 3000 and 2600 BC– coincided not with a time of plenty ashad long been thought,but with a period of unpredictability in Nile floods.Once again, people responded to environmental stress by building big.

And there’s more. Peter Turchin, who studies history and cultural evolution at the University of Connecticut in Storrs, sees bottom-up cooperation at work in monuments from the Roman Colosseum to France’s Gothic cathedrals to the International Space Station (ISS). In each case, he says, the project brought together groups who hadn’t previously worked together, and opened the door to new forms of cooperation. The French church, for example, had to cosy up to the nobility and even commoners to pay for its vast construction projects. As a society grew in scale and complexity, so did its builders’ ambitions. The Great Pyramid at Giza took 400,000 people-years to build. Turchin estimates that the ISS required eight times that.

Such large-scale, technically advanced enterprises are undoubtedly underpinned by a good deal of chiefly vanity too. But in the modern world they are paralleled by smaller-scale projects that more obviously reflect the builders of prehistoric monuments. Wilson cites the Burning Man festival, billed as an experiment in community and art, which draws tens of thousands of people to Nevada’s Black Rock desert each summer. Among the ten principles laid downby its co-founder Larry Harvey in 2004 are “radical inclusion”,“communal effort” and “leaving no trace”. Whatever festival goers create they destroy before they leave, culminating in the ritual burning of a wooden effigy, the eponymous man.

Are those who attend Burning Man obeying some long-range drive, opaque to them but serving a useful social purpose nonetheless? Wilson thinks so. In fact, there’s evidence that such cooperative ventures matter more today than ever because we are dependent on a far wider range of people than our ancestors were. Social psychologist Susan Fiske of Princeton University recently showed, for example, that collective investment in a community project can help break down people’s negative stereotypes of strangers.

Wilson,who applies evolutionary theory to improve people’s lives in practical ways, is convinced there is untapped potential in cooperative works of the kind our ancestors favoured.A few years ago, as part of his Neighborhood Project in Binghamton, he and his colleagues helped locals create their own parks. “This brought people together and enabled them to cooperate in numerous other contexts, including relief efforts during a flooding event in 2011,” he says.

Wilson is planning similar projects for the future. “Let’s have more of these!”he says. They may never produce anything on the scale of Mound A, but if they help build bettercommunities that will surely be a monumental achievement.

By Laura Spinney in "New Scientist", UK, vol.237, n. 3160, January, 13, 2018, excerpts pp. 38-41. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

CHAPTER 27

The Admiral discovers the island of Cuba. What he finds there

... On the return of the ships they followed a westerly course and discovered another, larger river, which the Admiral named the Rio de Mares. It was a much better river than the last, since a ship could both enter and turn round in its mouth, and its banks were thickly peopled. But on seeing the ships the local inhabitants fled to the mountains. These were seen to be many and high, with rounded tops and covered with trees, and they had most pleasing vegetation. Here the Indians hid everything they could carry with them, and their timidity prevented the Admiral from learning the nature of the island. Considering that if he were to land with many men the people’s fear would increase, he chose two Christians, one of the Indians whom he had brought from the island of San Salvador and another, a native of Cuba, who had boldly rowed up to the ships in a small canoe. He gave them orders to go into the interior of the island and discover its character, treating any of its inhabitants they might meet on their way with friendship and courtesy. And in order that no time should be lost, the Admiral commanded that, while they were on their way, his ship should be brought ashore and caulked. They noticed that all the wood they used for the fires they needed for this job was from the almaciga trees, which grow in great quantity throughout the island. Both in leaf and fruit this tree is very similar to the mastic, but considerably larger.

CHAPTER 28

The two Christians return and give an account of what they have seen

On 5 November, when the ship was caulked and ready to sail, the two Christians and the two Indians returned. They said that they had penetrated twelve leagues inland and found a village of fifty houses, all very large and built of wood with thatched roofs. These houses were round and tent-shaped like all the others they had seen. There must have been some thousands of inhabitants, since in each house lived all the members of a family. The chief men of the place came out to meet and welcome the Christians and carried them on their shoulders to their town, where they gave them a large house for their lodging. Here they made them sit down on some strangely shaped wooden seats in the form of animals with short fore- and rear-paws and tails slightly raised to support the back. For comfort this back support was as wide as the seat, and on the front was carved a head with eyes and ears of gold. They call these seats dujos or duchos. Having made our men sit down, all the Indians immediately sat on the ground around them, and then, one by one, came close to them to kiss their feet and hands, in the belief that they had come from the sky. The Indians gave them a meal of boiled roots, which tasted like chestnuts, and begged them warmly to remain there with them, or at least to stay there and rest for five or six days. For the two Indians whom our men had brought with them as interpreters had spoken very highly of the Christians.

Shortly afterwards a great number of women came in to take a look at the Spaniards and the men went out. These women also kissed the strangers’ feet and hands in awe and wonder, as if they were holy objects, and proffered the presents they had brought.

When the Christians thought it was time to return to the ships many Indians wished to accompany them. But they would allow only the king with one of his sons and a servant to come, and the Admiral received them with great honour. The Christians told him that on the way there and back they had found many villages, in which they had been welcomed and treated with the same courtesy. But these villages or hamlets were no more than groups of five houses.

On the paths they had met a great number of people carrying burning coals in order to make fire with which to burn certain perfumed herbs that they had with them. On this fire they also boiled those roots which were their staple food. The Spaniards had seen very great numbers of trees and plants that were not found on the sea coast, and a great variety of birds, very different from our own, although among them were partridges and nightingales. They had seen no four-footed animals except some dogs which did not bark. They had also seen many fields of the staple root, and of kidney-beans, and another kind of bean, also of a grain like panic-grass that the Indians call maize. This grain has a very good taste when cooked, either roasted or ground and made into a gruel.

They had a great abundance of cotton spun into balls, so much that a single house contained more than 12,500 lb of yarn. They do not plant it by hand, for it grows naturally in the fields like roses, and the plants open spontaneously when ripe, though not all at the same season. For on one plant they saw a half-formed pod, an open one, and another so ripe that it was falling. The Indians afterwards brought a great quantity of these plants to the ships, and would exchange a whole basket full for a leather tag. Strangely enough, none of the Indians made use of this cotton for clothing, but only for making their nets and beds - which they call hammocks - and for weaving the little skirts or cloths which the women wore to cover their private parts. When the Indians were asked if they had gold or pearls or spices, they answered by signs that there were great quantities of all three to the east in a land called Bohio* - the present-day Hispaniola, which they also called Babeque. But Columbus’s men did not clearly understand at that time what land they meant.

CHAPTER 29

The Admiral ceases to follow the north coast of Cuba, and turns on an eastward course for the island of Hispaniola

When he had heard this account, the Admiral did not wish to stay any longer in the Rio de Mares. He gave orders that a native of the island should be taken aboard, since he wished to bring to Castile one inhabitant of each country to give an account of its nature and products. So a dozen persons - men, women and children - were taken in a peaceful way, without noise or trouble. When the time came to sail away with them the husband of one of the women captives, and father of her two children who had been taken aboard with her, came to the ship in a canoe and begged by signs that he should be taken to Castile also, so as not to be separated from his wife and children. The Admiral was highly delighted by this man’s action and ordered that the whole family should be well treated and entertained.

On that same day, 13 November, he sailed on an eastern course, making for the island that the Indians called Babeque or Bohio. But owing to a very strong north wind he was compelled to anchor again off Cuba among some very tall islands lying close to a large harbour, which he called Puerto del Principe. He named the waters round these islands El Mar de Nuestra Señora. These were so numerous and so close together that they were not a quarter of a league apart. The majority of them in fact were within an arquebus shot of one another. The channels were so deep, however, and the shores so thickly wooded that it was a pleasure to sail between them, among the trees, which were very different from our own. They saw many almacigas aloes, palms, with smooth green trunks, and several other kinds of tree.

Although these islands were uninhabited, there were remains of many fishermen’s fires on their shores. For as was afterwards observed bands of men come from Cuba in their canoes to visit these and countless other uninhabited islands near by, to feed on the fish they catch, and on birds, crabs and other things they find ashore. The Indians are accustomed to eating unclean things, such as large, fat spiders and white worms that breed among decayed wood and other rotting matter. They eat some fish almost raw, and immediately on catching them. Before they boil them they tear out their eyes and eat them on the spot. They eat many such things that would not only make any Spaniard vomit but would poison him if he tried them. They go on these hunting and fishing expeditions at fixed seasons, moving from one ground to another, like sheep in search of new pasturage when they grow tired of the old.

To return to these small islands in the Mar de Nuestra Senora, I will observe that on one of them the christians killed with their swords an animal resembling a badger and discovered many mother-of-pearl shells in the sea. When they cast their nets they found among their numerous and very diverse catch a fish shaped like a pig and entirely covered with a very thick hide except at the tail, which was soft. They noticed at the same time that in this sea and on the islands the tide rose higher and fell lower than anywhere they had been, and that these tides were the reverse of our own, for when the moon stood in the south-east, at its meridian, it was low water.

CHAPTER 30

One of the caravels deserts the Admiral

...During that voyage [from Cuba to Hispaniola] Martin Alonso Pinzón received information from some Indians whom he was carrying as prisoners in his caravel that there was much gold in the island of Bohio (which, as we have said, was Hispaniola). Impelled by greed, on Wednesday, 21 November, he left the Admiral deliberately, not as a result of wind or currents. For the wind was behind him and he could easily have rejoined him, but did not wish to. On the contrary, pushing steadily on he made the greatest possible distance. His ship being very swift, he sailed all that Thursday and by nightfall had entirely disappeared, though up to then the ships had always sailed within sight of one another. The Admiral was now left with two ships, and since the winds prevented his crossing to Hispaniola he decided to return to Cuba to take on wood and water at a harbour not far from the Puerto del Principe [where he had anchored on first reaching Cuba], which he called Santa Catalina.

While they were drawing water, he saw by chance in the river some stones which showed traces of gold; and in this district were hills covered with pines so tall that masts could be cut from them for ships and carracks. There was timber also for planks, sufficient indeed for building as many new ships as they might want. There were also holm oaks and strawberry trees and others like those of Castile. Following the instructions of the Indians who directed him on his course to Hispaniola, the Admiral sailed ten or twelve leagues to the south-east along a shore abounding in very fine harbours and many beautiful rivers. The Admiral speaks so highly of the charm and beauty of this region that I cannot do better than quote his own words, describing his entry of a river which flows into a harbour called by him Puerto Santo.

‘When I brought the ships opposite the mouth of the harbour, which faces south, I found a river easily capable of taking a galley; and yet the entrance was so concealed that it could not be seen until we came very close. It was so beautiful that I was moved to go upstream if only for a ship’s length. I found a bottom from five to eight fathoms. Continuing upstream I pushed ahead for some time. The river was very cold and pleasant and the water very clear when we looked down at the sandy bottom. There were great numbers of palms of various kinds, the tallest and most beautiful that I have seen up to now, and there were also countless trees of other kinds, very large and green. The small birds and the greenness of the fields made me want to stay there for ever. This country, Most Serene Highnesses, is so enchantingly beautiful that it surpasses all others in charm and beauty as much as the light of day surpasses night. Very often I would say to my crew that however hard I tried to give your Highnesses a complete account of these lands my tongue could not convey the whole truth about them nor my hand write it down. I was so astonished at the sight of so much beauty that I can find no words to describe it. For in writing of other regions, their trees and fruit, their plants, their harbours and all their other features, I have wrongly used the most exalted language I knew, so that everyone has said that there could not possibly be another region even more beautiful. But now I am silent, only wishing that some other may see this land and write about it. When he sees the extreme beauties of this coast, he will then be able to prove himself more fortunate than I in the use and choice of words with which to describe it.

As the Admiral was going upstream in his boats he saw a canoe drawn up on shore under the trees beside the harbour and concealed by the branches. It was hollowed out of a single trunk and as large as a twelve-oared fusta In some houses near by they found in two baskets hanging from a post a honeycomb and the head of a dead man and later in another house they found the same. Our men concluded that the head belonged to the builder of the house, but they did not find anyone from whom they could gain any information, for as soon as they saw the Christians the people fled from their houses and made for the other side of the harbour. The Spaniards afterwards found another canoe about seventy foot long capable of taking 150 men and also hollowed out of a single trunk.

CHAPTER 31

The Admiral sails to Hispaniola; fast description of the island

Having sailed 107 leagues along the coast of Cuba, the Admiral came to its eastern tip, which he named Alpha. He left here on Wednesday, 5 December, to cross to Hispaniola, which lay sixteen leagues eastwards. On account of some local currents he did not reach it till the following day, when he entered the harbour of San Nicolas, which he named after that saint on whose feast-day he discovered it. This is a very large and fine harbour, very deep and surrounded with many tall trees, but the land is rockier and away from the coast the trees are smaller. Among them are dwarf oaks, strawberry trees and myrtles like those of Spain. A very sluggish river flowed through the plain and out into the harbour; all about the harbour were large canoes as large as fifteen-oared fustas.

As the Admiral could not hold conversation with these people, he followed the coast northwards until he came to a harbour which he named Conception, which lies almost due south of a small island which he afterwards called Tortuga, and which is about the same size as Grand Canary. Seeing that the island of Bohio is very large, and that its fields and trees are like those of Spain and that in a net that they had made the crew caught many fish like those of Spain - that is to say sole, skate, salmon, shad, dories, gilthead, conger, sardines and crabs - the Admiral decided to give the island a name related to that of Spain; and so on Sunday 9 December he called it Hispaniola.

Since everyone was very eager to know the nature of this island, while the sailors were fishing on the shore three Christians set out through the woods, where they met a group of Indians, naked like all those they had met before. As soon as these natives saw the Christians approaching them they ran in terror to the thickest of the woods unhindered by any cloaks or skirts. The Christians ran in pursuit hoping to have speech with them but were only able to catch one girl, who had a piece of flat gold hanging from her nose. When they brought her to the ships the Admiral gave her a number of small articles - trinkets and little bells. He then had her put ashore unharmed, sending three Indians whom he had brought from other islands and three Christians to accompany her to her village.

Next day he sent nine men ashore well armed, who found nine leagues away a village of more than a thousand houses scattered about a valley. When the inhabitants saw the Christians they all rushed out of the village and fled into the woods. But the Indian interpreter from San Salvador, who was with our men, went after them and shouted words of encouragement, saying much in praise of the Christians and affirming that they had come from the sky. The natives then returned reassured, and in awe and wonder they placed their hands on the heads of our men as a mark of honour and took them off to a feast, giving them everything they asked for without demanding anything in return. They begged them to stay that night in the village. But the Christians did not like to accept this invitation without first returning to the ships with news that the land was very pleasant and rich in Indian foods and that the people were fairer and handsomer than any they had seen so far on other islands; also that they were hospitable and well mannered. They said that the land where the Indians got their gold was further east.

On receiving this news the Admiral immediately had the sails raised, although the winds were most unfavourable. On Sunday, 16 December, therefore, they beat about between Hispaniola and Tortuga, and found a solitary Indian in a small canoe and were surprised that he had not sunk for the winds and seas were very high. They picked him up in the ship and took him to Hispaniola, where they put him ashore with many presents. This man told his fellow-natives of the Spaniards’ kindness, saying such fine things about them that many Indians came to the ship, but they carried nothing of value except some small pieces of gold hanging from their noses. On being asked where this gold came from, they indicated by signs that further on there were great quantities of it.

Next day a large canoe with forty men came from the island of Tortuga, near to where the Admiral was anchored. At that moment the cacique or lord of this part of Hispaniola was on the beach with his men bargaining over a piece of gold that he had brought. When he and his men saw the canoe they all sat down as a sign that they were unwilling to fight. Then nearly all the Indians leapt aggressively ashore and only the cacique got up to resist them. He sent them back to their canoe with threatening words. He then splashed them with water and picking up some stones from the beach hurled them at the canoe.

When they had all, with apparent obedience, returned to their canoe, the cacique picked up a stone and handed it to a servant of the Admiral, requesting him to throw it at the canoe to show that the Admiral was on his side against the Indians, but the servant didn’t succeed in hitting it, for the canoe put off very quickly. After this, speaking on the subject of the island which the Admiral had named Tortuga, the cacique said that there was much more gold there than in His paniola, and greater quantities still on Babeque which was fourteen days’ journey away.

CHAPTER 32

The overlord of this island comes to the ships with great ceremony

On Tuesday, 18 December, the king who had arrived on the previous day at the same moment as the canoe from Tortuga, and whose village was five leagues from the spot where the ships were anchored, came down to the village on the coast just before midday. Some men from the ships were also there, whom the Admiral had sent ashore to see if they could find any great signs of gold. On seeing the king’s approach they went to tell the Admiral, saying that he had more than 200 men with him and that he was not walking but was carried most ceremoniously in a litter by four bearers, although he was quite a young man. On arriving near the anchorage the king rested for a little and then went over to the ships with all his men. Describing this visit in his log-book, the Admiral writes:

‘Your Highnesses would certainly think well of his state and the respect paid him, although they all go naked. On coming aboard he found me at table dining beneath the forecastle and politely came to sit beside me, refusing to let me get up to receive him or even to rise from the table but insisting that I should go on eating. On coming into the cabin he signed to his men that they should go outside, which they speedily did, with all the respect in the world. They all sat down on deck, except for two men of ripe age who were I supposed his counsellors and guardians and who sat at his feet. I thought that he would like to eat some of our food and immediately ordered him to be served with some. Of each dish that was placed before him he ate only a mouthful, sending the rest out to his men who all ate. He did the same with the drink, which he only carried to his lips and then sent to the others. All this was done with marvellous ceremony and very few words. All that he said, so far as I can understand, was very clear and sensible. These two counsellors watched him with great respect and spoke for him and with him. When he had eaten, one of his attendants brought a belt like those of Castile in form but differently made, and presented it to me with two pieces of worked gold which were so thin that I think they had very little of it, although I believe they are very near the place from which it comes and where there is a great deal. I noticed that he admired a cushion that I had on my bed and gave it to him and some very fine amber beads that I wore round my neck; also some red slippers and a glass bottle of orange-flower water, and he was marvellously delighted.

‘He and his counsellors were extremely sorry that they could not understand me, nor I them. Nevertheless I understood him to say that if there was anything I wanted, the whole island was at my disposal. I sent for a wallet of mine in which I keep, as a memorial, a gold coin bearing the portraits of your Highnesses and showed it to him, saying, as I had done on the previous day, that your Highnesses were lords and rulers of the greater part of the world and that no princes were greater. I showed him the royal banners and the banners of the cross, which he greatly admired. He said to his counsellors that your Highnesses must be very great princes, since you had sent me fearlessly from so far away in the sky to this place. Other conversation took place between them of which I could understand nothing except that they were clearly most astonished by everything.

‘When it was late and he wished to return I sent him most ceremoniously ashore in the boat and ordered many lombards to be fired. When he came to the beach he mounted his litter and went off with more than 200 men, and one of his sons was carried on the shoulders of a very important chief. He gave orders that food should be given to all the sailors and to other men from the ships whom he found ashore, and that they should be treated with great kindness. Afterwards, a sailor who had met him on the road told me that all the presents I had given him were carried before him by a principal chieftain and that his son did not go with him, but followed behind with a number of other men. He added that one of his brothers went on foot with an almost equal retinue, leaning on the shoulders of two attendants. I had given this man also some small present when he had come down to the ships following his brother.’

CHAPTER 33

Columbus loses his ship in the shallows through the carelessness of some sailors. He receives help from the king of the island

To continue this narrative of the Admiral’s adventures, on 24 December there was a great calm, with no wind except a slight breeze that blew from the sea from Santo Tomas to Punta Santa, off which he lay at the distance of about a league. At the end of the first watch, which would have been an hour before midnight, the Admiral went down to rest, for he had not slept for two days and a night. Because of the calm, the steersman left the helm to one of the ship’s boys. ‘I had forbidden this,’ says the Admiral, ‘from the beginning of the voyage. I had ordered that whether there was a wind or not the helm should never be entrusted to a boy. To tell the truth I considered myself safe from shoals and reefs, because on Sunday, when I had sent the boats ashore to the king, I had passed some three and a half leagues east of Punta Santa and the sailors had seen the whole coast, and the rocks which run three leagues from east to south-west from Punta Santa, and they had also seen the passage by which they could enter. I had never done this at any time in the voyage, and by God’s will at midnight, when I was lying in my bed, in a dead calm with the seas as smooth as water in a bowl, everyone went below, leaving the rudder to a boy.

‘Thus it happened that a gentle current carried the ship on to one of those rocks, which could have been detected even in the night because the water breaking over them could be heard a full league away. The boy then, feeling and hearing the rudder scrape, began to shout; I was the first to hear him and quickly got up for I realized before anyone else that we had run on the reef. Almost immediately the ship’s master, whose watch it was, came up. I told him and the other sailors to get in the boat which was towing astern and take the anchor aboard and kedge her off by the stern. The master and a number of sailors duly got into the boat, and I thought that they were carrying out my orders. But they rowed on, making all haste to the caravel which lay half a league away. When I saw that they were saving themselves in the boat and that the tide was falling and the ship in danger, I had the main mast cut away to lighten her as much as possible and see if we could pull her off. But the tide dropped still further and the ship would not move and lay rather more athwart the seas. New seams now opened and the whole hull filled with water. Then the Niña’s boat came to help me. The master of the caravel had refused to take on board the sailors who had fled in the Santa Maria’s boat and it was therefore compelled to return to the ship.

‘But I could see no way of saving the Santa Maria, so I departed for the Niña in order to save my men, for the wind was now blowing off the land and night was almost over, and we did not know how to pull off those rocks. I remained on the caravel until day and as soon as it was light went back to the ship, rowing inside the shoal. Before this I had sent the boat ashore with Diego de Araña of Cordoba, the officer responsible for discipline in the fleet, and Pedro Gutierrez, your Highnesses’ steward, to inform the king of what had happened, saying that on coming to visit him at his village, as he had asked me to on the previous Saturday, I had lost my ship on a reef a league and a half offshore. On hearing the news the king wept, showing great sorrow at our disaster. Then he sent all the inhabitants of the village out to the ship in many large canoes. Thus we began to unload her and in a very short time we had cleared the decks. Such was the help that this king gave us. After this, he himself, with his brothers and relations, did everything they could both in the ship and on shore to arrange things for our comfort. And from time to time he sent various of his relatives to implore me not to grieve, for he would give me everything he had.

‘I assure your Highnesses that nowhere in Castile would one receive such great kindness or anything like it. He had all our possessions brought together near his palace and kept them there until some houses had been emptied to receive them. He appointed armed men to guard them and made them watch right through the night. And he and everyone else in the land wept for our misfortune as if greatly concerned by it. They are so affectionate and have so little greed and are in all ways so amenable that I assure your Highnesses that there is in my opinion no better people and no better land in the world. They love their neighbours as themselves and their way of speaking is the sweetest in the world, always gentle and smiling. Both men and women go naked as their mothers bore them; but your Highnesses must believe me when I say that their behaviour to one another is very good and their king keeps marvellous state, yet with a certain kind of modesty that is a pleasure to behold, as is everything else here. They have very good memories and ask to see everything, then inquire what it is and what it is for.’

CHAPTER 34

The Admiral decides to make a settlement at this king’s village and calls his settlement Navidad

On Wednesday, 26 December, the chief king of the country came to the Admiral’s caravel, showing great sorrow and grief. He comforted the Admiral, generously offering him any of his possessions that it would please him to receive. He said that he had already given the Christians three houses in which they could put everything that they had rescued from the ship; and he would have given them many more if they had required them. At this moment a ship arrived with Indians from another island, bringing some sheets of gold to barter for bells which they value above everything else. Sailors also arrived from the shore saying that many Indians were coming into the village from other places bringing gold objects which they were exchanging for tags and other such things of small value and offering to bring more gold if the Christians wanted it. When the great cacique saw that the Admiral liked gold he promised to have a great quantity bought to him from Cibao, the place that had the most.

He then prepared to go ashore, inviting the Admiral to a feast of sweet potatoes and yucca, which are their principal foods, and giving him some masks with eyes and large ears of gold and other beautiful objects which they wore round their necks. He then complained about the Caribs, who captured his people and took them away to be eaten, but he was greatly cheered when the Admiral comforted him by showing him our weapons and promising to defend him with them. But he was much disturbed by our cannon, which so frightened all the Indians that they fell down like dead men when they heard them fired.

On receiving such kindnesses and such samples of gold from these people the Admiral almost forgot his grief for the loss of the ship, for he considered that God had allowed it to be wrecked in order that he should make a settlement and leave some Christians behind to trade and gather information about the country and its inhabitants, learning their language and entering into relations with the people. Thus, when the Admiral returned with reinforcements, he would have people to advise him in all matters respecting the occupation and conquest of the country. He was the more inclined to this by the fact that many of the crew said that they would gladly remain behind and offered to make a settlement in this place. He therefore decided to construct a fort from the timbers of the wrecked ship, which had been stripped of everything that could possibly be useful.

He was greatly assisted in this by the news that came next day, Thursday, 27 December, that the caravel Pinta was lying in the river, towards the eastern point of the island. In order to make certain of this, he ordered the cacique whose name was Guacanagari to provide a canoe with some Indians to take a Spaniard to this place. When this man had gone twenty leagues down the coast he turned back, bringing no news of the Pinta. Consequently another Indian who claimed to have seen the caravel some days before was not believed. Nevertheless the Admiral did not halt his arrangements for leaving some Christians in this place. Everyone knew the goodness and fertility of this land, since the Indians were offering our men many gold masks and objects and giving them information about various districts in the island where they found gold.

When the Admiral was on the point of departure, he made a treaty with the king regarding the Caribs, of whom he complained so much and was in such real terror. In order that he should be pleased to have the Christians’ company and also to inspire him with fear of our weapons, lombard fired at the side of the Santa Maria, the ball passed right through the ship and fell in the water, and the king was both horrified and amazed. The Admiral also showed him our other weapons, how wounds were made with some and others used for defence, and told him that with such weapons to protect him he need no longer fear the Caribs, because the Christians would kill them all. The Admiral said that he was leaving these Christians to defend him and would himself go back to Castile to fetch jewels and other things, which he would bring him back as presents. He then begged him to be friendly to Diego de Araña, son of Rodrigo de Araña of Córdoba, who has already been mentioned. He left this man, Pedro Gutierrez, and Rodrigo de Escobedo in command of the fort with thirty-six men and many goods and provisions, arms and artillery, and the ship’s boat, with carpenters, caulkers, and all other persons necessary for a settlement, that is to say a doctor, a gunner, a tailor and such like.

The Admiral then made careful preparations for a direct return journey to Castile. He decided to make no further explorations, since he now had only one ship and if this were wrecked their Catholic sovereigns would have no knowledge of these kingdoms which he had just acquired for them.

CHAPTER 35

The Admiral sails for Castile and meets the other caravel with Pinzón

On Friday, 4 January, at sunrise, the Admiral raised sail with his helm set north-west, in order to avoid the rocks and shoals that lie off that coast, leaving the Christian settlement which he had called Puerto de la Navidad (Christmas Harbour), in commemoration of that day on which he had escaped the perils of the sea and reached land to make the beginnings of this settlement. These rocks and shoals stretch for six leagues from Cabo Santo to Cabo de la Sierpe, and run more than three leagues out to sea. The whole coast runs from north-west to south-east and the beach and coastal plain extend for four leagues inland. Behind He high mountains and great numbers of large villages, more numerous and larger than on other islands.

He then sailed towards a high mountain, which he named Monte Christi, which is eighteen leagues east of Cabo Santo. Therefore anyone wishing to sail to the town of Navidad, after sighting Monte Christi, which is rounded like a bell tent and appears to be a detached rock, will have to stand two leagues out to sea and sail westward at that distance from the coast, until he comes to Cabo Santo. He will then be five leagues from the town of Navidad and will enter through certain channels which thread the shoals lying before it. The Admiral thought fit to mention these details in order that men should know the position of the first Christian town and settled country in the western world.

When the Admiral had passed Monte Christi, sailing eastwards against contrary winds, on the morning of Sunday, 6 January, a caulker sighted from the main top the caravel Pinta sailing westwards with the wind behind her. When she came up to the Niña her captain, Martin Alonso Pinzón, immediately went aboard the Admiral’s ship and began to explain why he had left him, inventing various excuses and false arguments. He said that he had not wished to do so but had been unable to avoid it. Although the Admiral knew that this was untrue and that Pinzón’s intentions were dishonest and remembered the liberties he had taken on many occasions during the voyage, he concealed his thoughts and accepted these excuses in order not to imperil the whole enterprise. For all might easily have been lost, since the majority of the men in the Admiral’s ship were compatriots of Martin Alonso - many of them indeed being his relatives.

The truth is that when Pinzón left the Admiral in the island of Cuba, he sailed with the intention of going to the island of Babeque, where the Indians on his caravel told him there was much gold. On arriving at that island he discovered that what they told him was untrue and returned to Hispaniola, where other Indians had assured him there was much gold. This voyage had taken him twenty days and he had got no further than a small river fifteen leagues east of Navidad, which the Admiral had named Rio de Gracia. There Martin Alonso had stayed for sixteen days and had acquired much gold, in the same way that the Admiral had got it at Navidad - by exchanging it for articles of small value. Pinzón had divided half this gold among the men of his caravel in order to win their favour and leave them happy and satisfied that he as captain should keep the rest. And he afterwards tried to persuade the Admiral that he had no knowledge of any gold.

The Admiral continued on his course to anchor near Monte Christi, since the winds prevented his going any further. He took the boat up a river south-east of the mountain and found in its sand many samples of gold grains, and for this reason he called it the Rio del Oro. It lies sixteen leagues east of Navidad, and is rather smaller than the river Guadalquivir at Cordoba.

CHAPTER 36

In the Gulf of Samana in Hispaniola the first brush takes place between Indians and Christians

On Sunday, 13 January, at Cabo Enamarado, which is in the Gulf of Samana in Hispaniola, the Admiral sent the boat ashore. On the beach our men met some fierce-looking Indians whose bows and arrows showed that they were prepared for war. These Indians were greatly excited and also alarmed. Nevertheless our men began a parley with them and bought two bows and some arrows. With great difficulty one of the Indians was persuaded to come out to the caravel and speak with the Admiral, to whom he made a speech as fierce as his appearance. These Indians were much fiercer than any we had seen before. Their faces were blackened with charcoal in the manner of all these peoples, whose habit it is to paint themselves either black, white or red in a variety of patterns. They wore their hair very long and caught back in a little net of parrot feathers.

When this man stood before the Admiral naked as his mother bore him, as were all the natives of these islands that we had so far discovered, he spoke in the proud language common to all peoples in these regions. The Admiral, believing he was one of the Caribs and that this gulf was the boundary dividing them from the rest of Hispaniola, asked him where the Caribs lived. He pointed eastwards, signifying that they lived on the other islands, on which there were pieces of guanin - that is to say gold of poor quality - as large as the prow of the ship, and that the island of Matinino was entirely populated by women, on whom the Caribs descended at certain seasons of the year; and if these women bore sons they were entrusted to the fathers to bring up. These answers to our questions he gave us by signs and in a few words that were understood by the Indians we had brought from San Salvador. The Admiral ordered that he should be given food and some small presents - glass beads and green and red cloth. He then had him put ashore to obtain gold for us, if the other Indians had any.

When the boat beached it was met by fifty-five Indians who were hiding in the trees, all naked, and with long hair tied back like that of women in Castile. Behind their heads they wore tufts of the feathers of parrots and other birds. They were all armed with bows and arrows. When our men leapt ashore the Indian made his fellow-natives put down their bows and arrows and the great clubs they carried instead of swords, for, as I have said, they have no iron of any sort. Once ashore, the Christians began, on the Admiral’s instructions, to buy bows and arrows and other weapons. But when the Indians had traded them two bows, they not only refused to sell any more but with a show of contempt seemed about to take the Spaniards prisoners; they picked up the bows and arrows they had laid down and also cords with which to tie our men’s hands. But our men were on guard and, though only seven in number, on seeing the Indians dash forward attacked them with great courage, wounding one with a sword thrust in the buttocks and another with an arrow in the chest. Surprised by our men’s coinage and by the wounds dealt by our weapons, the Indians took to flight, leaving most of their bows and arrows on the ground. Certainly many of our men would have been killed if the pilot of the caravel whom the Admiral had put in charge of the boat and those in it had not come to their rescue and saved them.

This brush did not displease the Admiral, who was certain that these Indians were some of the Caribs of whom the other natives were so afraid, or were at least their neighbours. They are a bold and courageous people, as can be seen from their looks and weapons and also from their deeds, and the Admiral thought that when the islanders learnt what seven Christians could do against fifty-five very fierce Indians of that region, our men whom he had left in Navidad would be more highly respected and esteemed and no one would dare to annoy them. Later in the day the Indians made bonfires in the fields as a show of bravery, for the boat had returned to see what their mood was, but there was no way of gaining their confidence and so the boat put back.

The Indians’ bows are of yew and almost as stout as those of the French and English, and the arrows are made of the shoots produced by the cane at the point where the seeds grow. These are thick and very straight and a yard and a half long. They tip them with a stick about a foot long, sharpened and hardened in the fire. In the point they insert a fish bone or tooth which they dip in poison. On account of this engagement the Admiral named this gulf, which the Indians call Samana, Golfo de las Flechas (Gulf of the Arrows). In the bay much fine cotton could be seen, and a long fruit rounded at one end which is their pepper. This is very hot. Near the beach in shallow water a great deal of that weed was growing which they had found floating on the ocean sea. They had been right in supposing that it grew near land, was uprooted when ripe and carried a great distance by the sea currents.

CHAPTER 37

The Admiral sets out for Castile and the caravel Pinta is separated from the Niña by a great storm

On Wednesday, 16 January 1493, the Admiral left the Golfo de las Flechas in good weather, on a course for Castile. Both caravels let much water and the crews had great trouble in keeping them afloat. The last point of land to disappear from sight was the Cabo de San Telmo, twenty leagues to the north-east. They saw much weed as before, and twenty leagues further on they found the sea almost covered with small tunny fish, of which they also saw great numbers on the two following days, 19 and 20 January. After this they saw many sea-birds. The weed was continually moving from east to west with the current, and they already knew that it takes this weed a very long way. However, it does not always follow the same course but sometimes drifts one way, sometimes another. They met it every day until they had gone almost half-way across the ocean.

They sailed on their course with favourable winds and at such a speed that on 9 February the pilots thought that they had reached a point south of the Azores. But the Admiral said that they were 150 leagues short of this, and this proved correct, for they were still meeting many strands of seaweed which they had not found on their voyage to the islands until they had gone 263 leagues west of the island of Hierro.

As they sailed on in good weather, the winds began to increase from day to day and the seas to rise so high that they had great difficulty in weathering them. In the night of Thursday, 14 February, they were compelled to run with the wind. And as the caravel Pinta was less able to withstand the seas than the Niña, Pinzón had to follow a northward course, driven by a south wind, while the Admiral continued northeast on the direct route for Spain. Owing to the darkness of the night, the Pinta could not rejoin the Admiral, although he kept his lantern lit, and at daybreak the two ships had lost one another, and the crew of each thought that the other had sunk. Resorting to prayers and devotions, therefore, the Admiral’s crew vowed that one of them should make a pilgrimage on behalf of the rest to Our Lady of Guadalupe and cast lots to decide who it should be. The lot fell on the Admiral. After this they vowed a further pilgrimage to our Lady of Loreto and the lot fell on a sailor of the Santa Maria from Santona, called Pedro de la Villa. They then cast lots for a third pilgrimage to make a vigil in the church of Santa Clara de Moguer, and the lot for this also fell on the Admiral. The storm, however, grew fiercer and everyone on the ship made a vow to walk barefoot and in their shirts to offer up a prayer on the first land they came to in any church dedicated to the Virgin. Apart from these general vows many of the men also made private ones.

For now the storm was very high and the Admiral’s ship had great difficulty in withstanding it through lack of ballast, which had grown less as their provisions were consumed. To increase their ballast they conceived the idea of filling all the barrels that were empty with seawater, which was some help. It enabled the ship to stand up better to the storm and reduced its great danger of capsizing. The Admiral described this great storm in these words:

‘I should have had less difficulty in withstanding this storm if I had only been in personal danger, since I know that I owe my life to my Supreme Creator and He has so many times before saved me when I have been near to death that actually to die would hardly have cost me greater suffering. But what caused me infinite pain and grief was the thought that after it had pleased the Lord to inspire me with faith and assurance to undertake this enterprise, in which he had now granted me success, at the very moment when my opponents would have been proved wrong and your Highnesses would have been endowed by me with glory and increase of your high estate, the Lord might choose to prevent all this by my death.

‘Even this would have been more bearable if death were not also to fall on all those whom I had taken with me, promising them a most prosperous outcome to the voyage. Finding themselves in such terrible danger, they not only cursed their weakness in coming but also my threats and forceful persuasion which had many times prevented them from turning back, despite their resolution to do so. In addition to all this, my grief was increased by the thought that my two sons, whom I had placed as students at Cordoba, would be left without resources in a foreign land, and that I had not performed, or at least proved that I had performed, my services in such a way that I could hope your Highnesses would be mindful of them. I was comforted by my faith that Our Lord would not allow a project for the exaltation of His Church, which I had carried out in the face of such opposition and dangers, to remain incomplete and myself to be ruined. Yet I thought that on account of my demerits and so that I should not enjoy so much glory in this world, it was perhaps His pleasure to humiliate me.

‘In this perplexity I thought of your Highnesses’ good fortune which, even were I to die and my ship be lost, might find a means of turning the victory I had gained to your advantage, and that in some way the success of my voyage might become known to you. Therefore I wrote a parchment, as brief as the exigencies of the time required, saying how I had discovered these lands that I had promised to you and in how many days and by what course I had reached them. I described the goodness of the country, the manners of its inhabitants whom I had made subjects to your Highnesses, taking possession of all the lands I had discovered. I closed and sealed this letter and addressed it to your Highnesses, undertaking the cost of carriage, that is to say promising a thousand ducats to the man who should present it to your Highnesses unopened. My purpose was that if some foreigner should find it he would be too anxious to obtain the reward to open it and master its contents. I then sent for a large cask and, after wrapping this parchment in cloth and enclosing it in a cake of wax, placed the parcel in the cask. The hoops were then secured and the cask thrown into the sea, all the sailors supposing that this was in fulfilment of some vow. And since I thought it possible that this cask would not be picked up and the ships were still following their course towards Castile, I prepared another similar package and placed it in another cask at the highest point of the prow, so that were the ship to sink it should float on the waves and be carried wherever the storm might take it.’

CHAPTER 38

The Admiral reaches the Azores and the people of Santa Maria seize the boat and its crew

As they sailed on in such great danger from the storm, at dawn on Friday, 15 February, one Ruy Garcia of Santona saw from the main mast land to the east-north-east. The pilots and sailors thought that it was Cintra in Portugal. But the Admiral insisted that they were at the Azores, and this was one of the islands, and although they were not far offshore they were unable to reach land that day on account of the storm. Being compelled to beat about since the wind was in the east, they lost sight of the first island and saw another, under the lee of which they ran to shelter from a strong crosswind and bad weather. Despite their hard and continuous labours, however, they were unable to make land. The Admiral writes in his log-book:

‘On the night of Saturday, 16 February, I reached one of these islands, but could not tell which on account of the storm. I rested a little that night, for I had not slept since Wednesday or even been to bed and my legs were crippled by continuous exposure to the high winds and seas, and I was suffering from hunger also. When I anchored on Monday morning I immediately learnt from the inhabitants that this island was Santa Maria in the Azores. They were all astonished at my escape from this tremendous storm which had been blowing for fifteen days continuously.’

When the inhabitants were told of the Admiral’s discoveries they put up a show of rejoicing, appeared to be greatly delighted, and gave thanks to Our Lord. Three of them came to the ship with some food and the compliments of the captain of the island, who was away in the town. All that could be seen in this place was a hermit’s chapel, which as they were informed was dedicated to the Virgin. When the Admiral and his crew remembered that on the previous Thursday they had vowed to walk barefoot in their shirts to some church of the Virgin in the first land they came to, they all thought that they should fulfil their vow here, where the people and the captain of the island showed our men such great love and sympathy, in the territory of the king who was such a friend to the Catholic sovereigns of Castile. The Admiral therefore asked these three men to go to the town and summon the chaplain who had the key of this hermitage to say a mass for them. These three consequently got into the ship’s boat with half the ship’s crew who were to begin the performance of the vow; and when they had done, the other half were to go ashore after them to complete it.

When the first boatload had come to land, barefoot and in their shirts, in fulfilment of their vow, the captain and many of the town’s inhabitants, who were lying hidden in an ambush, surprised them and made them prisoner. They took away the boat, certain that without it the Admiral would not escape capture.

CHAPTER 39

The Admiral encounters another storm and recovers the boat and crew

When it first struck the Admiral that his men were remaining rather long on shore (for it was now midday and they had landed at dawn) he supposed that they had met with some accident, either on sea or shore. Since from the place where he had anchored he could not see the hermitage to which they were going, he decided to move the ship to a point from which the church was visible. When he came close to land he saw many horsemen dismount and get into the boat with the intention of attacking and taking the caravel. Fearing the probable result of their attack, the Admiral ordered his men to take up their positions and their weapons, but to show no signs that they intended to put up a defence, so that the Portuguese might then approach in all boldness. The Portuguese came on to meet the Admiral and when they were close their captain stood up and asked for a safe conduct. The Admiral agreed in the belief that they would come aboard, in which case, despite the safe conduct, he would have seized the boat and its crew and held them as surety for his own wrongly seized boat and men. But the Portuguese captain was not bold enough to come closer than hailing distance.

The Admiral told him that he was astounded at the strange state of affairs: none of his men had returned to their boat, although they had landed under safe conduct, encouraged by promises of gifts and help; and what was more the Portuguese captain had sent him his compliments. The Admiral further begged him to consider that not only was he behaving in a most unfriendly way and violating the laws of chivalry, but was also greatly offending the King of Portugal whose subjects were welcomed in the lands of his lords, the Catholic sovereigns, where they were treated with great courtesy and could land and remain ashore without safe conduct in as complete security as if they were in their own city of Lisbon. He added that their Highnesses had given him letters of recommendation to all the lords and princes and nations of the world, which he would have shown to him if he had come close; and if these letters were honoured in distant parts, he said, where he and all their Highnesses’ subjects were favourably received, there was far greater reason why they should be welcomed and aided in Portugal, whose princes were the kindred and neighbours of his own lords. For he was their chief Admiral of the Ocean and Viceroy of the Indies, which he had just discovered. In proof of this he offered to show them his appointment, signed in their royal names and sealed with their seals. Indeed, he did show him these documents from a distance and assured him he could come closer without fear, since the Catholic sovereigns and the King of Portugal were at peace and friendly, and his sovereigns had instructed him to show all possible respect and courtesy to any Portuguese ships he might meet. The Admiral added that even if the Portuguese captain persisted in his discourtesy and refused to release his crew, this would not prevent his going on to Castile, for he still had enough men on board to sail the ship to Seville, and to attack him also if it should prove necessary, for he had given him due cause and he would be to blame for any punishment he received. Moreover, his own king would probably punish him too for precipitating war between himself and the Catholic sovereigns.

The captain and his men replied that they did not acknowledge the King and Queen of Castile, or their letters, and that he was not afraid of them but would show them the might of Portugal. This reply made the Admiral think and fear that since his departure from Spain some rupture or quarrel had occurred between the two kingdoms. Nevertheless he decided to answer the captain as his rashness deserved. Finally, as he drew away, the Portuguese captain stood up and shouted to the Admiral that he must bring the caravel into port, since all his own actions had been on the written instructions of his king and lord. When he heard this the Admiral called on everyone in the caravel to witness, and in answer to the Portuguese captain he swore he would not leave the caravel until they had captured a hundred Portuguese, whom they would take home as prisoners, and had depopulated the island. Having said this, he returned to anchor in the harbour where he had been before, since the wind made it impossible for him to do anything else.

But next day, the wind increased greatly and made his anchorage impossible; he lost his anchors and had no alternative but to raise sail for the island of San Miguel. As he could not anchor here, however, because the storm was still blowing fiercely, he decided to wait with furled sails, though still in very great danger, both from the sea, which was very rough, and because he had only three sailors and a few ship’s boys on board, all the rest of his men being on shore except the Indians, who had no skill in working sails or rigging. But himself performing the work of the absent crew, he passed the night in hard work and no little danger. And when day came, he found that he had lost sight of the island of San Miguel and that the weather had somewhat improved. So he decided to return to the island of Santa Maria, to see if he could rescue his crew, his anchors and the boat. He reached San Miguel on Thursday evening, 21 February.

Shortly after his arrival, a boat came with five sailors and a notary, and trusting in the Admiral’s safe conduct they all went aboard the caravel, where, since it was now late, they slept the night. Next morning they said that they had been sent by the captain to make certain where the caravel had come from and under what circumstances and if it was sailing with the King of Castile’s commission. For if he was truthfully informed of these facts he was prepared to pay the Admiral all respect. This change of mind was caused by the fact that he now saw clearly that they could not take the ship or capture the Admiral, and that they might be made to suffer for what they had done.

Disguising his feelings, the Admiral answered that he thanked the captain for his courtesy and his kind offer and since what he asked of him was no more than common custom at sea, he was prepared to accede to his demands. He therefore showed the notary his general letter of recommendation from the Catholic sovereigns, addressed to all their subjects and to other princes, and also the order and commission they had given him to make this voyage. When the Portuguese had seen these documents, they returned ashore satisfied and promptly restored the boat and the sailors, from whom the Admiral learnt that, according to reports on the island, the King of Portugal had ordered his subjects to take the Admiral prisoner by any means they could.

CHAPTER 40

The Admiral leaves the Azores and sails through bad weather to Lisbon

On Sunday, 24 February, the Admiral sailed for Castile from the island of Santa Maria, very short of ballast and firewood, which he had been unable to obtain on account of the bad weather. The wind, however, was favourable for his voyage, yet when he was a hundred leagues from the nearest land a swallow came to the boat which had, it was believed, been driven out to sea by bad weather. This belief was very soon confirmed, for next day, 28 February, they met many more swallows and land-birds; and also saw a whale.

On 3 March they encountered such a fierce storm that shortly after midnight their sails were torn away. Then, in great danger of their fives, they made a vow to send a pilgrim barefoot and in his shirt to the Virgin of the Girdle, whose church is at Huelva. The lot once more fell on the Admiral, perhaps to show that of all the vows made to Our Lord the Admiral’s were most welcome; in addition to this vow, many private vows were made also.

As they ran before the wind without an inch of sail and with bare masts, in a terrible sea and high winds, the whole sky was rent with thunder and lightning. Any one of these horrors seemed likely to send the ship to destruction. But the Lord was pleased to show them land just before midnight. Another danger confronted them. To avoid running on a reef, where they would certainly be shattered, they had to raise a little sail, saving themselves in this way from the storm. When God was pleased to show them day and dawn broke, they saw that they were near the rock of Cintra, on the coast of the Kingdom of Portugal.

Here the Admiral found himself compelled to come to land, in great fear and dread of the local inhabitants and the sailors of that coast, who ran up from all directions to see this ship which had miraculously escaped from the cruel storm, for they had heard news of many ships which had sunk in the last few days on course for Flanders and elsewhere.

Sailing up the Tagus on 4 March, the Admiral anchored near Rastelo and very quickly sent a message to the Catholic sovereigns to announce his arrival. He also wrote to the King of Portugal requesting permission to anchor near the city, for the place where he then lay was not safe against anyone who might decide to attack him on the treacherous pretext or excuse that he had received orders to do so from the King himself, in the belief that by harming the Admiral he could impair the victory of the King of Castile.

CHAPTER 41

The people of Lisbon come out to see the Admiral and to marvel at him. The Admiral visits the King of Portugal

On Tuesday, 5 March, the master of the large ship which the King of Portugal kept at Rastelo to guard the harbour came in his armed boat to inform the Admiral that he must accompany him to give an account of his presence to the ministers of the King, as was the custom for any ship reaching Lisbon. The Admiral replied that an admiral of the Kings of Castile, which he was, was not obliged to go where anyone summoned him and must not, under pain of death, leave his ship to lodge such information; and that he was resolved to act accordingly. The Portuguese officer said that he might at least send his ship’s master. But the Admiral replied that he considered it the same thing if he were only to send a boy and that it would be useless to ask him to send anyone from his ship.

On hearing the boldness of the Admiral’s argument, the Portuguese officer answered that in order to confirm that he came in the names of the Kings of Castile and as their subject, the Admiral might at least show him his patents, which would be enough to satisfy his captain. The Admiral considered this a reasonable demand and showed him his letters from the Catholic sovereigns, and this satisfied the Portuguese officer, who returned to his ship to report to his captain, Don Alvaro de Acuna. Very soon, Don Alvaro came to the Admiral’s caravel to the accompaniment of trumpets, fifes and drums and with a grand escort and greeted the Admiral ceremoniously, making him many offers of service.

Next day, when the Admiral’s arrival from the Indies had become known in Lisbon, so many people came to the caravel to see the Indians he had brought back and so learn the news that there was not room for them all, and the sea could not be seen for the great number of Portuguese boats and launches. Some of the Portuguese gave thanks to God for this great victory but others were unhappy and greatly disappointed that this triumph had slipped out of their hands owing to their King’s doubts and under-estimation of the enterprise. The day passed amidst a crowd of visitors.

Next day the King instructed his agents to give the Admiral all the refreshment and other things he needed for himself and his crew; in fact, to give him whatever he asked for. He also wrote to the Admiral congratulating him on his happy arrival and invited him, since he was in Portugal, kindly to pay him a visit. The Admiral was somewhat doubtful about accepting this invitation. But considering the friendship that obtained between the King of Portugal and the Catholic sovereigns and the nature of the courtesy demanded, and also to relieve all suspicions that he was returning from territories conquered by Portugal, he thought it right to go to Valparaiso (some nine leagues from Lisbon), where the King then was, and arrived there at night on 9 March.

The King ordered all the noblemen at his court to come out and meet him, and bring him into his presence. When the Admiral arrived before him the King paid him great honour and welcomed him warmly, ordering him to cover himself and be seated. Having heard with apparent joy the details of his victorious voyage, the King offered him all he might need for the service of the Catholic sovereigns, although in his opinion, on account of the treaty he had agreed with them, he considered that this conquest was his. The Admiral replied that he knew nothing about this treaty and that he had scrupulously obeyed the orders that he had received not to go to Mina da Ouro† or to Guinea. The King replied that all was well and he was sure that the matter would be rightly settled. After spending some time on these conversations, the King ordered the Prior of Crato, who was the chief minister then at court, to give the Admiral lodging and entertainment and show him every favour, which he did.

The Admiral remained there for the whole of Sunday and Monday until after dinner, and then took leave of the King, who treated him with great kindness, offered him many favours and sent Don Martin de Norona to accompany him. Many other noblemen accompanied him also, both to pay him honour and to hear about the great events of his voyage.

On his return journey to Lisbon, he stopped at a convent at which the Queen of Portugal was staying, since she had sent him a most urgent message, begging him not to pass without visiting her. She was delighted to see him and treated him with all the favours and honour due to a great lord. That night one of the King’s gentlemen overtook the Admiral to tell him from the King that if he wished to go overland to Castile he would accompany him and find him lodgings in all places within the frontiers of Portugal, and provide him with all necessities.

CHAPTER 42

The Admiral leaves Lisbon for Castile, travelling by sea

On Wednesday 13 March, at two o’clock in the afternoon the Admiral raised sail for Seville; and next day, at noon, crossed the bar of Saltes and anchored in Palos harbour, from which he had sailed on 3 August of the previous year 1492, seven months and eleven days before. Here he was received by all the people in procession, who gave thanks to Our Lord for His great mercy and this great victory, from which such expansion was to be expected both of the Christian faith and the estates of the Catholic sovereigns. All the citizens were highly delighted that it was from this port the Admiral had set sail and that the majority of the greater and nobler part of the men he had taken with him were men of this district, though some of them had by Pinzón’s fault behaved with treachery and disobedience.

It happened that at the time of the Admiral’s arrival in Palos, Pinzón reached Galicia and decided to go independently to Barcelona to give news of the enterprise to the Catholic sovereigns. But they sent him a message not to come except with the Admiral, with whom he had sailed on this voyage of discovery. This message so pained and annoyed Pinzón that he returned home a sick man and a few days later died of grief.

Before Pinzón reached Palos, the Admiral went by land to Seville, with the intention of going from there to Barcelona, where the Catholic sovereigns were staying. He had to make some slight delays on his journey owing to the excitement in the towns through which he passed, for everyone came from everywhere in the vicinity to gaze at him and at the Indians and other strange objects that he had brought with him.

Continuing his journey in this way, he reached Barcelona in the middle of April, having sent news ahead of him to the Catholic sovereigns of the prosperous outcome of his voyage. They showed infinite joy and satisfaction at this news and ordered that he be given the solemn reception due to one who had done them such signal service. Everyone in the city and court came out to meet him, and the Catholic sovereigns, surrounded by their court, awaited him seated in all their greatness and majesty on a magnificent throne under a canopy of gold. When he came to kiss their hands, they stood up to greet him as they would a great lord, made some demur in giving him their hands to kiss and seated him at their side. Then after some short conversation about the manner and success of his voyage, they gave him leave to retire to his lodging, to which he was accompanied by the whole court. During his stay he enjoyed such honours and favours from their Highnesses that when the King rode through Barcelona the Admiral accompanied him on one side and the Infante on the other, though the King was used to being accompanied by the Infante alone, who was his close relative.

In "The Four Voyages of Christopher Columbus", edited and translated by J. M. Cohen, Penguin Books USA,1969, excerpts chapters 27 to 42. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

The city of Rome began life as a modest village in the region of ltaly known as Latium. Nobody could have predicted that this undistinguished settlement-merely one of several local centres gradually developing into cities during the 7th and 6th centuries BC-would eventually become mistress not only of all ltaly, but of the entire Mediterranean world.

Our knowledge of early Rome is based on two sources of evidence: the traditional histories written by Livy and others several centuries later; and the findings of archaeology. Legend held that the Romans traced their ancestry back to Aeneas, the hero who escaped from the sack of Troy carrying his father Anchises on his back. His subsequent travels took him to Carthage, where he met and fell in lave with Dido before forsaking her and settling in Latium. There his son founded the city of Alba Longa, and it was from the kings of Alba Longa that Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were directly descended.

Much of this is evident invention. Troy, we now know, was sacked in the 12th ar 13th century BC, whereas Carthage was only founded in the 8th ar 9th. The idea that Trojan refugees sought refuge in central Italy is probably also pure fiction . But the story of Romulus and Remus founding the city of Rome may incorpororate elements of truth. For it was in the 8th century that two existing settlements, one on the Palatine Hill, the other on the Quirinal, coalesced to form a single village. This corresponds in time approximately with the traditional foundation of Rome by Romulus in 753 BC. Early Rome has been given especially vivid form by the discovery early this century of oval hut foundations on the Palatine Hill, and by burials (both inhumations and cremations with "hut-urns") in the Forum valley and on the Esquiline Hill. Some of these burials date back as far as the 10th century BC, long before Romulus's supposed foundation.

The nascent settlement of Rome soon found itself at war with its powerful neighbours, the Sabines. According to tradition, Romulus enticed the Sabines to a feast, during which the Romans seized the Sabine women as their wives. This, again, is probably legend which incorporates a germ of truth, since Sabine influence was strong in early Rome and the eventual compromise, by which Rome was ruled alternately by Roman and Sabine kings, may reflect Rome's origin in the coalescence of two ethnically different communities.

From Village to City

The four earliest kings were shadowy characters, village leaders rather than powerful monarchs, and the settlement itselfwas small and undistinguished. Major change began to take place during the 7th century, when tiled roofs and stone foundations appear, culminating in the draining of the Forum area and its laying out as a public square: a formal city centre. Thís coíncided with the appearance ofnew rulers, the Etruscans.

Accordíng to legend the first Etruscan ruler Tarquínius Priscus, took control of Rome by peaceful means, gaining the acquiescence and support of the leading families. He may well have had much to offer the early Romans, since the Etruscans had a flourishing network of city-states in the region to the north of Rome, and Rome stood ata crucial bridging point on the Tíber which gave the Etruscans access to Latium and beyond. Rome never became an Etruscan city-state ín the strict sense of the term, but it took on many Etruscan trappings. It was especially important to the Etruscans since the latter had established a major zone of influence in Campania to the south, and the Tiber bridge was the strategic artery of communication between the homeland and these southern outposts.

The Etruscans gave Rome wríting (an alphabet they in turn had taken from the Greeks), public buildings (including the Temple of Jupiter on the Capital) and a new politicai, social and military organisation. The traditional symbols of power, the fasces (bundles of rods and axes, which have given their name to fascísm) were also Etruscan in origin. Under the Etruscan kings, Rome became the undisputed leader of a large section of Latium extending from the Alban Hills in the east to the Tiber mouth in the west. The Romans retaíned their own language, however, though Etruscan families took up residence in the city, and a number of Etruscan inscriptions have been found there. Yet it was not wíthout difficulty that the Romans eventually freed themselves from Etruscan overlordship.

The Birth of the Republic

The Etruscans ruled Rome for a little over a century; the traditional dates are 616 BC for the accession of the first Etruscan king; Tarquinius Priscus, and 510 BC for the expulsíon of the last, Tarquinius Superbus- "the proud" (Between them came a Latin king, Servius Tullius, son-in-law of Tarquinius Priscus.) Livy tells us it was the rape of Lucretia by Sextus, son of Tarquin the Proud, which incited rebellion by a group of Roman aristocrats led by Lucius Junius Brutus. The Tarquins were expelled from Rome, and a new constitution devised, whereby power rested in the hands of the senate (the assembly of leading citizens), who delegated executive action to a pair of consuls who were elected from among their number to serve for one year. Thus was born the Roman Republic.

In reality, the story was less simple, for the Etruscans did not so easily relinquish control of their crucial Tiber bridgehead. Tarquin the Proud sought help from Lars Porsenna, ruler of the Etruscan city of Clusium. According to Livy, the Romans beat off this attack, notably by Horatius's heroic stand at the Tiber bridge. Most likely, however, Porsenna did recapture Rome, but failed to hold it for long. The Latin cities banded together with Rome to throw off the Etruscan yoke, and won a major victory at Aricia in 506 BC. Henceforth, though Etruscan cultural influence remained strong, the Latin cities were politically independent.

The victory at Aricia did not mark an end to Rome's troubles, since the new constitution was not flawless and there remained powerful external enemies. Internally, one serious threat was the internecine feuding of the leading families, many of whom commanded the support of large numbers of clients and used them on occasion to subvert the power of the state.

Another was the struggle between the leading families (the patricians) as a whole and the rest of the population, especially the underprivileged groups (the plebeians). After some years of conflict the plebeians forced the senate to pass a written series of laws (the Twelve Tables) which reccognized certain rights and gave the plebeians their own representatives, the tribunes. It was only later, in the 4th century, that plebeians were given the right to stand for the consulship and other major offices of state.

Expansion in Italy

By the 5th century BC, Rome was an important city, but by no means a major regional power. The transition came about only through piecemeal expansion in a series of minor wars. Their earliest enemies were their immediate neighbours to east and south: the Aequi and Volsci. By the end of the 5th century these peoples had been defeated, and the Romans pushed forward their own frontiers, establishing colonies (settlements of Roman citizens) in strategic places. This practice, extensively followed in later years, enabled Rome to hold on to conquered territories and rewarded its citizens with fertile new farmland.

The first resounding Roman military success was to the north of the city, where in 396 BC after a ten-year siege they captured Veii. This was the southernmost of the Etruscan cities and a major metropolis, in every sense Rome's equal. Any feelings of elation must have been short-lived, however, since six years later Rome itself was sacked by a new and more distant enemy: the Celts (or Gauls).

Celtic peoples from Central Europe had been establishing themselves in northern Italy during the course of the 6th and 5th centuries, and in 391 BC a Celtic war-band launched a raid deep into Etruria. They returned the next year in even greater strength, defeated the Romans at the River Allia, and captured the city. The citadel on the Capitoline Hill held out for a few months but eventually capitulated. The Celts withdrew with their booty back to northern Italy, leaving the Romans to pick up the pieces, rebuild the city and restore their damaged prestige. One of their first acts was to provide Rome itself with better defences: the so-called Servian Wall, 6 miles (10 km) long, which was the only city wall that Rome possessed until the Emperor Aurelian built a new one over 500 years later But it was some years before the Romans were able to return to the offensive.

Whether the Romans entertained any long-term imperialist objectives or merely conquered in self-defence is open to question, but the results were impressive in either case. In 343 they came into conflict with the Samnites, a powerful tribal confederation who controlled the central backbone of southern Italy. This First Samnite War (343-41) was brief and inconclusive, but was followed by more significant Roman gains in the Second and Third Wars (327-304; 298-90 BC). During the same period Rome strengthened its hold over Latium and renewed operations against the Etruscans.

Victory in the Third Samnite War extended Roman territory across the Apennines to the Adriatic Sea. This made Rome a major regional power and attracted hostile attention from the Greek cities around the coast of southern Italy. They called in the help of Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, an ambitious adventurer who arrived at Tarentum in 280 BC with a well-trained army which included war elephants, the first the Romans had encountered. Pyrrhus won battles at Heraclea and Ausculum, but with such heavy loss that they gave him little real advantage. He was eventually defeated in 275, and Tarentum fell to the Romans in 272.

Rome and the Mediterranean

Rome now controlled the whole of the Italian peninsula, either through alliance or direct conquest. The next wars were fought against a much more redoubtable opponent-the Carthaginians-and the prize this time was not merely Italy but the whole of the West and Central Mediterranean.

Rome's principal advantage lay in the enormous reserves of Italian manpower on which it could call. Carthage, on the other hand, was a maritime power with a redoubtable fleet.

The First Punic War (264-41 BC) was fought for control of Sicily. The Carthaginians had long held the western end of the island and had sought from time to time to conquer the Greek cities of eastern Sicily, such as Catana and Syracuse. The cause of the First Punic War, as of many great conflicts, was trivial in origin but revived old rivalries and alerted the Carthaginians to the growing threat from Rome. Despite their seafaring skill, the Carthaginians were defeated by the Romans in a number of naval engagements and by the end of war Sicily was reduced to the status of a Roman province, becoming indeed Rome's first overseas possession.

The Carthaginians were slow to accept their reverse, and in 218 struck back in the Second Punic War, with an invasion of Italy itself, led by Hannibal. This time it was the Romans who were worsted in their chosen element, the land battle, but despite crushing victories at Cannae and Lake Trasimene Hannibal could not shake Rome's hold on the Italian peninsula, and was unable to attack the city itself. In the end the Romans turned the tables by invading Carthaginian territory. Hannibal crossed back to Africa to defend his homeland but was defeated in the final battle of the war, at Zama, by the Roman general Scipio "Africanus" in 202 BC.

The victory over Hannibal removed Carthage as a military threat, but did not bring the Romans any great measure of peace Instead, they found themselves embroiled in new wars which took them further and further afield. In the west, they became involved in a whole succession of wars in Spain, seeking to protect and expand the territory in the south of the country which they had taken from the Carthaginians. In Italy, close to home, they renewed the conquest of the Celtic lands in the north, which became the province of Gallia Cisalpina (Gaul-this-side-of-the-Alps). But the greatest wars of the 2nd century BC were fought in the Balkans and the East Mediterranean.

As the century began, the Romans declared war on Philip, king of Macedonia, and in 196 defeated the Macedonian army at Cynoscephalae. The Romans did not initially seek a lasting foothold in the Balkans, but merely wished to neutralize a military threat. A quarter of a century later they were back fighting a new Macedonian king, Perseus, and by 146 BC had come to realize they had no alternative to direct rule.

Greece and Macedonia together became the Roman province of Achaea. In the same year the Romans at last destroyed Carthage, their old enemy, in the Third Punic War; its territory became another new province, Africa. Shortly afterwards, in 133 BC, they gained yet another overseas territory when the last king of Pergamum left his kingdom to the Romans in his will.

Thus, almost by accident, Rome became the ruler of a great Mediterranean empire. The provinces brought wealth to Italy, and fortunes were made through the granting of valuable mineral concessions and enormous slave-run estates. Italian traders and craftsmen flourished on the proceeds of the new prosperity. Slaves were imported to Italy, too, however. and wealthy landowners soon began to buy up and displace the original peasant farmers.

By the late 2nd century this process had led to renewed conflict between rich and poor and demands from the latter for reform of the Roman constitution. The background of social unease and the inability of the traditional republican constitution to adapt to the needs of a powerful empire together led to the rise of a series of over-mighty generals, championing the cause of either aristocrats or the poor in the last century BC.

The Fall of the Republic

The beginning of the end of the Republic came when the brothers Gracchus challenged the traditional constitutional order in the l30s and l20s BC. Though members of the aristocracy themselves, they sought to pareel out public land to the dispossessed Italian peasant farmers. Other measures followed, but many senators came to view the Gracchi as public enemies, and both the brothers met violent deaths.

The next champion of the people was Gaius Marius, a brilliant military commander who reformed the Roman army and saved Italy from the invading Cimbri and Teutones in 102 and 101 BC. He departed from established practice by recruiting his soldiers not only from the landed citizens but from landless citizens, including the growing urban proletariat. These were people who, once the wars were over, looked to their commander for a more permanent reward in the shape of land of their own. Thus the situation developed where commanders and their armies banded together in pursuit of political objectives, the commanders seeking power and the soldiers rewards.

The temporary ascendancy achieved by Marius was eclipsed by that of Sulla in the 80s BC. Sulla made his name in two crucial wars: the first in Italy itself, the so-called Social War of 91-89 BC, where the Italian allies, though they lost the war, largely won their demand for full Roman citizenship; and the second the defeat of Mithridates, king of Pontus, who chose this moment of Roman weakness to overrun Asia Minor and Greece. Sulla was a staunch proponent of aristocratic privilege, and his short-lived monarchy saw the repeal of pro-popular legislation and the condemnation, usually without trial, of thousands of his enemies.

After Sulla's death the pendulum swung back somewhat in favour of the people under a successful new commander, Pompey the Great. He became immensely popular for clearing the seas of pirates and went on to impose a new political settlement on the warring kingdoms of the East Mediterranean, notably making Syria a Roman province. When he returned to Rome in 62 BC he found himself faced by two astute political opponents: the immensely wealthy Marcus Licinius Crassus, and the young but promising Gaius Julius Caesar.

Rather than coming to blows, the three men reached a political accommodation now known as the First Triumvirate. Under the terms of this arrangement Caesar became consul in 59 BC and was then made governor of the two Gallic provinces, one-Cisalpina-south of the Alps, the other Transalpina- covering the southern part of modern France. He embarked on a campaign of conquest, the Gallic War, which resulted in a huge accession of new territory, and then used his battle-hardened army to overthrow Pompey and take supreme power for himself. Caesar's career was cut short by his assassination at Rome in 44 BC, but rule by one man was becoming an increasingly inevitable prospect. It was a prospect brought to fruition by Octavian, Caesar's adoptive son. He and Mark Antony, Caesar's friend and lieutenant, defeated Caesar's assassins at the Battle of Philippi in 42 BC.

They then established the Second Triumvirate, joining forces with Marcus Aemilius Lepidus to divide power between them. The arrangement did not last, however, and eventually resolved itself into direct military conf1ict between Octavian and Mark Antony. Octavian's victory at the battle of Actium left him sole ruler and in 27 BC the Senate granted him the title Augustus, making him the first official emperor of Rome.


The Origins of Rome

The early centuries saw Rome grow from a cluster of hilltop farms into a walled city with temples and a paved forum.

Tradition held that Rome was founded in 754 BC by twin boys, Romulus and Remus, who were abandoned by their parents but suckled by a she-wolf. Archaeology has revealed that the city actually began life in the 9th or 8th century BC as a series of small farmsteads on a group of hills overlooking the River Tiber. Between the hills were marshy valleys where the local people buried their dead in cemeteries of cremations or inhumations. Early houses, such as the so-called "Hut of Romulus", preserved as a pattern of postholes on the Palatine, would probably have had walls of wattle and daub, and thatched roofs. This early settlement may well have flourished, situated as it was overlooking a convenient crossing point on the Tiber and astride the important salt route running inland from the river mouth.

The crucial development came in the later 7th century BC, when an Etruscan dynasty, the Tarquins, took control of Rome and began its transformation from village into city. The Forum valley was drained by the canalization of the Cloaca Maxima, and was converted into a public square with a gravel paved surface. A wooden bridge, the Pons Sublicius, was thrown across the Tiber, and an Etruscan-style temple to Jupiter Capitolinus built on the Capitol. There may also have been an 'agger, or city wall, with a defensive ditch beyond it, though the oldest defence which survives today (the so-called Servian Wall) dates only from the 4th century BC .

Roman historians maintained that the Romans evicted their last Etruscan king, Tarquin the Proud, in 510 BC, and became a republic governed by a pair of annually elected magistrates, the consuls. It was a momentous step, the first in a sequence which was to take Rome in less than five centuries from small Italian town to mistress of the Mediterranean.


The Unification of ltaly

The Roman conquest of Italy was slow and hardfought, but by the middle of the 3rd century BC, they were masters of the peninsula.

From the early days of the Republic, Rome behaved as an expansionist power, fighting frequent wars to gain new territory and safeguard its security. The first major gain was the capture of Veii, the southernmost of the Etruscan cities, in 396 BC. Any elation was shortlived, however, as six years later a Celtic raiding party descended from northern Italy, defeated the Romans at the River Allia and captured and sacked Rome itself. This proved merely a temporary setback, and during the rest of the 4th century BC the Romans steadily expanded their politica! and military influence through central Italy. They did this by an astute mixture of warfare and diplomacy, fighting only where necessary. They also adopted a policy of founding Roman colonies at strategic places to consolidate their hold on newly conquered territory.

The Romans gained mastery of Latium in the Latin war of 340-38 BC, and then defeated their erstwhile allies the Samnites in the Second and Third Samnite Wars of 327-304 and 298-90 BC. This extended their power east to the Adriatic and southwards to the Bay of Naples. Their next major war was against a foreign invader, Pyrrhus, King of Epirus in northwest Greece. ln 280 he landed in southern ltaly with an army of 25,000 men and 20 elephants, the first the Romans had encountered. Despite severa! victories, Pyrrhus was unable to make significant headway and withdrew back to Epirus five years !ater. This left the Romans free to consolidate their hold on southern Italy, and cast their eyes across the straits to Sicily where, in 264, they came into direct conflict with the Carthaginians.


By Chris Scare in "The Penguin Historical Atlas of Ancient Rome", Penguin Books, UK, 1995, excerpts pp. 12-23. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

For as long as we know there has been at Jericho a never-failing spring, feeding what is still a sizeable oasis. No doubt it explains why people have lived there on and off for about 10,000 years. Farmers clustered about it in late prehistoric times; its population may then have numbered 2,000–3,000. Before 6000 BC it had great water tanks which suggest provision for big needs, possibly for irrigation, and there was a massive stone tower which was part of elaborate defences long kept in repair. Clearly its inhabitants thought they had something worth defending; they had property. Jericho was a considerable place.

For all that, it was not the beginnings of a civilization; too much was still lacking and it is worth considering for a moment at the outset of the era of civilization just what it is we are looking for. It is a little like the problem of pinning down in time the first human beings. There is a shaded area in which we know the change occurs, but we can still disagree about the point at which a line has been crossed. In many places in both western and eastern Asia around 5000 BC farming villages provided the agricultural surpluses on which civilization could eventually be raised. Some of them have left behind evidence of complex religious practice and elaborate painted pottery, one of the most widespread forms of art in the Neolithic era. Somewhere about 6000 BC brick building was going on in Turkey at Çatal Hüyük, a site only slightly younger than Jericho. But by civilization we usually mean something more than ritual, art or the presence of a certain technology, and certainly something more than the mere agglomeration of human beings in the same place.

It is a little like speaking of ‘an educated man’: everyone can recognize one when they see him, but not all educated men are recognized as such by all observers, nor is a formal qualification (a university degree, for example) either a necessary or an infallible indicator. Dictionary definitions are of no help in pinning down ‘civilization’, either. That of the Oxford English Dictionary is indisputable but so cautious as to be useless: ‘a developed or advanced state of human society’. What we have still to make up our minds about is how far developed or advanced and along what lines.

Some have said that a civilized society is different from an uncivilized society because it has a certain attribute – writing, cities, monumental building have all been suggested. But agreement is difficult and it seems safer not to rely on any such single test. If, instead, we look at examples of what everyone has agreed to call civilizations and not at the marginal and doubtful cases, then it is obvious that what they have in common is complexity. They have all reached a level of elaboration which allows much more variety of human action and experience than even a well-off primitive community. Civilization is the name we give to the interaction of human beings in a very creative way, when, as it were, a critical mass of cultural potential and a certain surplus of resources have been built up. In civilization this releases human capacities for development at quite a new level and in large measure the development which follows is self-sustaining. But let us turn to examples.

Somewhere in the fourth millennium BC is the starting-point of the story of civilizations and it will be helpful to set out a rough chronology. We begin with the first recognizable civilization in Mesopotamia. The next example is in Egypt, where civilization is observable at a slightly later date, perhaps about 3100 BC. Another marker in the western Mediterranean is ‘Minoan’ civilization, which appears in Crete about a thousand years later, and from that time we can disregard questions of priorities in this part of the world: it is already a complex of civilizations in interplay with one another. Meanwhile, further east and perhaps around 2500 BC, another civilization has appeared in India and it is to some degree literate. China’s first civilization starts a bit later, a little after 2000 BC. Later still come the Mesoamericans. Once we are past about 1500 BC, though, only this last example is sufficiently isolated for interaction not to be a big part of explaining what happens. From that time, there are no civilizations to be explained which appear without the stimulus, shock or inheritance provided by others which have appeared earlier. For the moment, then, our preliminary sketch is complete enough at this point.

About these first civilizations (whose appearance and shaping is the subject-matter of the next few chapters) it is very difficult to generalize. Of course they all show a low level of technological achievement, even if it is astonishingly high by comparison with that of their uncivilized predecessors. To this extent their shape and development were still determined much more than those of our own civilization by their setting. Yet they had begun to nibble at the restraints of geography. The topography of the world was already much as it is today; the continents were set in the forms they now have and the barriers and channels to communication they supplied were to be constants, but there was a growing technological ability to exploit and transcend them. The currents of wind and water which directed early maritime travel have not changed much, and even in the second millennium BC men were learning to use them and to escape from their determining force.

This scenario suggests, correctly, that at a very early date the possibilities of human interchange were considerable. It is therefore unwise to dogmatize about civilization appearing in any standard way in different places. Arguments have been put forward about favourable environments, river valleys for example: obviously, their rich and easily cultivated soils could support fairly dense populations of farmers in villages which would slowly grow into the first cities. This happened in Mesopotamia, Egypt, the Indus valley and China. But cities and civilizations have also arisen away from river valleys, in Mesoamerica, Minoan Crete and, later, in Greece. With the last two, there is the strong likelihood of important influence from the outside, but Egypt and the Indus valley, too, were in touch with Mesopotamia at a very early date in their evolution. Evidence of such contact led to the view put forward a few years ago that we should look for one central source of civilization from which all others came. This is not now very popular. There is not only the awkward case of civilization in the isolated Americas to deal with, but great difficulty in getting the timetable of the supposed diffusion right, as more and more knowledge of early chronology is acquired by the techniques of radio-carbon dating.

The most satisfactory answer appears to be that civilization was likely always to result from the coming together of a number of factors predisposing a particular area to throw up something dense enough to be recognized later as civilization, but that different environments, different influences from outside, and different cultural inheritances from the past meant that men did not move in all parts of the world at the same pace or even towards the same goals. The idea of a standard pattern of social ‘evolution’ was discredited even before the idea of ‘diffusion’ from a common civilizing source. Clearly, a favourable geographical setting was essential; in the first civilizations everything rested on the existence of an agricultural surplus. But another factor was just as important – the capacity of the peoples on the spot to take advantage of an environment or rise to a challenge, and here external contacts may be as important as tradition. China seems at first sight almost insulated from the outside, but even there possibilities of contact existed. The way in which different societies generate the critical mass of elements necessary to civilization therefore remains very hard to pin down.

It is easier to say something generally true about the marks of early civilization than about the way it happened. Again, no absolute and universal statements are plausible. Civilizations have existed without writing, useful though it is for storing and using experience. More mechanical skills have been very unevenly distributed, too: the Mesoamericans carried out major building operations with neither draught animals nor the wheel, and the Chinese knew how to cast iron nearly 1,500 years before Europeans. Nor have all civilizations followed the same patterns of growth; there are wide disparities between their staying-power, let alone their successes.

None the less, early civilizations, like later ones, seem to have a common positive characteristic in that they change the human scale of things. They bring together the co-operative efforts of more men and women than in earlier societies and usually do this by physically bringing them together in larger agglomerations, too. Our word ‘civilization’ suggests, in its Latin roots, a connection with urbanization. Admittedly, it would be a bold person who was willing to draw a precise line at the moment when the balance tipped from a dense pattern of agricultural villages clustered around a religious centre or a market to reveal the first true city. Yet it is perfectly reasonable to say that more than any other institution, the city has provided the critical mass which produces civilization and that it has fostered innovation better than any other environment so far. Inside the city the surpluses of wealth produced by agriculture made possible other things characteristic of civilized life. They provided for the upkeep of a priestly class which elaborated a complex religious structure, leading to the construction of great buildings with more than merely economic functions, and eventually to the writing down of literature. Much bigger resources than in earlier times were thus allocated to something other than immediate consumption and this meant a storing of enterprise and experience in new forms. The accumulated culture gradually became a more and more effective instrument for changing the world.

One change is quickly apparent: in different parts of the world men grew more unlike one another. The most obvious fact about early civilizations is that they are startlingly different in style, but because it is so obvious we usually overlook it. The coming of civilization opens an era of ever more rapid differentiation – of dress, architecture, technology, behaviour, social forms and thought. The roots of this obviously lie in prehistory, when there already existed men with different lifestyles, different patterns of existence, different mentalities, as well as different physical characteristics. But this was no longer merely the product of the natural endowment as environment, but of the creative power of civilization itself. Only with the rise to dominance of western technology in the twentieth century did this variety rapidly begin to diminish. From the first civilizations to our own day there have always been alternative models of society available, even if they knew little of one another.

Much of this variety is very hard to recover. All that we can do in some instances is to be aware that it is there. At the beginning there is still little evidence about the life of the mind except institutions in so far as we can recover them, symbols in art and ideas embodied in literature. In them lie presuppositions which are the great co-ordinates around which a view of the world is built – even when the people holding that view do not know they are there (history is often the discovery of what people did not know about themselves). Many such ideas are irrecoverable, and even when we can begin to grasp the shapes which defined the world of men living in the old civilizations, a constant effort of imagination must be made to avoid the danger of falling into anachronism, which surrounds us on every side. Even literacy does not reveal very much of the minds of creatures so like and yet so unlike ourselves.

It is in western Asia and the eastern Mediterranean that the stimulating effects of different cultures upon one another first become obvious, and no doubt it is much of the story of the appearance of the earliest civilizations there. A turmoil of racial comings and goings for 3,000–4,000 years both enriched and disrupted this area, where our history must begin. The Fertile Crescent was to be for most of historic times a great crucible of cultures, a zone not only of settlement but of transit, through which poured an ebb and flow of people and ideas. In the end this produced a fertile interchange of institutions, language and belief from which stems much of human thought and custom even today.

Why this began to happen cannot exactly be explained, but the overwhelming presumption must be that the root cause was over-population in the lands from which the intruders came. Over-population may seem a paradoxical notion to apply to a world whose whole population in about 4000 BC has been estimated only at between 80 and 90 million – that is, about the same as Germany’s today. In the next 4,000 years it grew by about 50 per cent to about 130 million; this implies an annual increase almost imperceptible by comparison with what we now take for granted. It shows both the relative slowness with which our species added to its power to exploit the natural world and how much and how soon the new possibilities of civilization had already reinforced man’s propensity to multiply and prosper by comparison with prehistoric times.

Such growth was still slight by later standards because it was always based on a very fragile margin of resources and it is this fragility which justifies talk of over-population. Drought or desiccation could dramatically and suddenly destroy an area’s capacity to feed itself and it was to be thousands of years before food could easily be brought from elsewhere. The immediate results must often have been famine, but in the longer run there were others more important. The disturbances which resulted were the prime movers of early history; climatic change was still at work as a determinant, though now in much more local and specific ways. Droughts, catastrophic storms, even a few decades of marginally lower or higher temperatures, could force peoples to get on the move and so help to bring on civilization by throwing together peoples of different tradition. In collision and co-operation they learnt from one another and so increased the total potential of their societies.

The peoples who are the actors of early history in this region belonged to the light-skinned human family (sometimes confusingly termed Caucasian), which emerged in Europe. It is one of the three major regional groups of the species Homo sapiens (the others being African and Asian). Linguistic differences have led to other attempts to distinguish them. All the peoples in the Fertile Crescent of early civilized times have been assigned on philological grounds either to ‘Hamitic’ stocks who evolved in Africa north and north-east of the Sahara, to ‘Semitic’-language speakers of the Arabian peninsula, to peoples of ‘Indo-European’ language who, from southern Russia, had spread also by 4000 BC into Europe and Iran, or to the true ‘Caucasians’ of Georgia. Most of these classifications are suspect, but they give some idea of the dramatis personae of the early history of the Fertile Crescent and its environs. Their historic centres all lay around the zone in which agriculture and civilization appear at an early date. The wealth of so well-settled an area must have attracted peripheral peoples.

By about 4000 BC most of the Fertile Crescent was occupied and we can begin there to attempt a summary of the next 3,000 years which will provide a framework for the earlier civilizations. Probably Semitic peoples had already begun to penetrate it by then; their pressure grew until by the middle of the third millennium BC (long after the appearance of civilization) they would be well established in central Mesopotamia, across the middle sections of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. The interplay and rivalry of the Semitic peoples with other groups, who were able to hang on to the higher lands which enclosed Mesopotamia from the north-east, is one continuing theme some scholars have discerned in the early history of the area. By 2000 BC the peoples whose languages were of the Indo-European group have also entered on the scene, and from two directions. One of these peoples, the Hittites, pushed into Anatolia from Europe, while their advance was matched from the east by that of the Iranians.

Between 2000 BC and 1500 BC branches of these sub-units dispute and mingle with the Semitic and other peoples in the Crescent itself, while the contacts of the Hamites and Semites lie behind much of the political history of old Egypt. This scenario is, of course, highly impressionistic. Its value is only that it helps to indicate the basic dynamism and rhythms of the history of the region in ancient times. Much of its detail is still highly uncertain (as will appear) and little can be said about what maintained this fluidity. None the less, whatever its cause, this wandering of peoples was the background against which the first civilization appeared and prospered.

By J. M. Roberts & Odd Arne Westad in "The Penguin History of the World", Penguin Books, UK, 2013, sixth edition, volume 2, chapter 1. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

Think you can trust your recollections? Think again. Scientists are uncovering the shockingly common phenomenon of...

Eighteen-years old Peter Reilly sat in the interogation room in a daze. After 25 hours of intense questioning, he’d just signed a confession confirming that he’d brutally murdered his own mother, 51-year-old Barbara Gibbons.

“We got into an argument,” he told interrogators. “I remember picking up the straight razor, and I slashed towards her throat.”

Just a day after Barbara’s body was found, the murder was an open and shut case. Based on his confession, a jury sentenced Peter to between six and 16 years in prison. The only problem? He was innocent.

The teenager’s memory of his mother’s murder—of killing his only known relative with a razor with which he crafted model aeroplanes—was entirely false. In 1975, two years after his conviction, Peter was set free, exonerated by evidence that proved he couldn’t have been at the scene of the crime. He was never retried.

By claiming that he’d failed a lie-detector test and mental illness had likely caused him to “black out” the crime, the interrogators had convinced Peter — by all accounts a quiet, good-natured boy who loved his mother dearly— that he must have been the killer.

Not only did Peter believe his interrogators, he eventually provided detailed memories of the attack, explaining both his motive (his mother was an alcoholic who rarely showed him affection) and plan for disposing of the weapon (throwing it behind the nearby petrol station).

So why did this young man from a sleepy town in Connecticut confess to a crime he never committed?

The Innocence Project movement in the US, which seeks to exonerate innocent convicts through modern DNA testing, says false memory plays a role in more than 70 per cent of the wrongful convictions they overturn. In ten per cent of those cases, their clients originally pleaded guilty, serving an average of 14 years for crimes that they didn’t commit.

Dr Julia Shaw is a criminal psychologist at London Southbank University and the author of popular psychology book, 'The Memory Illusion'. She conducts research into how and why our brains form these complex false memories. It’s a phenomenon, she explains, that’s far more common than we might imagine.

“We like to think we’re able to distinguish between imagination and experiences, but the brain can’t actually do this very well. Certainly not once you’ve pictured what a fantasy might feel, smell or taste like. Then you’re adding in the markers we usually use to separate fact and fiction, and you’re making them indistinguishable.”

Our brains are home to approximately 86 billion neurons. Each of these neurons is equipped with stringy arms called dendrites, which allow them to stretch out to other cells. Each dendrite has “spines”, which act like brainy fingers, enabling them to reach out across synapses and communicate from one cell to another. Memories are formed when particular connections between these neurons are strengthened.

Unfortunately for us, false memories and real memories seem to rely on the exact same mechanisms to become lodged in the brain.

It’s tempting to think of memory as a personal CCTV system, recording everything we see or do. In actuality, as the founder of applied memory science Professor Elizabeth Loftus explains, it’s more like a Wikipedia page. “You can go in there and change it, but so can other people”.

When we recall a memory, we aren’t flipping through the Rolodex of our minds to produce the correct file—we’re writing that file out anew. We actively recreate our memories every time we think of them, adding room for potential fabrication or misremembering each time.

Think about your earliest memory. Perhaps you remember the birth of a sibling, your first taste of birthday cake or a traumatic trip to the dentist. Maybe you’re even one of the few who can recall their own birth. Well, if any of those memories occurred before you turned three years old, bad news: they’re definitely false.

As Dr Shaw explains, it’s physically impossible for our brains to form long-lasting memories when we’re that young. “Almost everybody thinks they have a memory from childhood that’s actually impossible.”

These false childhood memories are often caused by a process called “memory conformity”, where details we’ve learned through the accounts of others can implant entirely false memories, or lead us to accept the experiences of others as our own. Perhaps you remember telling someone a story about yourself, only to realise that it had actually happened to them. That’s memory conformity.

This phenomenon has serious implications for the criminal justice system. If eyewitness accounts can mutate through discussion or the process of remembering itself, then their reliability becomes compromised. And research has shown that emotional memories are no less vulnerable to fabrication. In fact, because we tend to be more confident about our memories of emotional or traumatic events, they can be even less reliable than their humdrum counterparts. Not only are false memories possible, psychologists have proved that they can actually create false memories, hacking into our brains to implant recollections of events that never really took place.

Dr Shaw is one such psychologist. “I get people to repeatedly imagine committing a crime—theft, assault or assault with a weapon and police contact—and after three interviews using leading techniques and imagination exercises, we see that 70 per cent of them accept that they’re guilty of a crime that they didn’t commit.”

But not everybody accepts the explanation that false memories are a by-product of our imperfect brains. Fiona Broome, a paranormal consultant from Florida, coined the term “The Mandela Effect” in 2010 when she realised she wasn’t the only person to remember Nelson Mandela’s funeral, 30 years before he actually died. Far from it. She soon discovered that hundreds of people across the world shared the same richly detailed false memory.

So what causes these eerily similar collective false memories? On her website, Fiona Broome speculates that we’re all “sliding between parallel realities...that somehow have glitches”. She’s proposing a version of the quantum mechanic “multiverse” theory, which speculates that there could be many possible universes all existing simultaneously.

Multiverse theory was hypothesised to explain physics experiments, not false memories, but nevertheless, Mandela Effect enthusiasts enjoy speculating that their false memories are windows between worlds, not simple human errors.

Professor Chris French, of Goldsmiths University’s Anomalistic Psychology Research Unit, is sceptical.

“We have a tendency to put ourselves at the centre of the action and I think that explains a lot about the so-called Mandela Effect. We all knew Mandela had a long sentence and many assumed he’d die in prison. Perhaps some people thought about it, imagined it happening and subsequently became convinced.

“False memories can arise without anyone deliberately implanting them. Take the crashing-memories paradigm. Studies have shown that if you ask a random sample of British people if they saw the footage of Princess Diana’s car crashing in Paris, about 50 per cent will say they did, when in actuality, no such footage exists.”

Perhaps another explanation is that those who experience the Mandela Effect are particularly susceptible to false memories. As a paranormal psychology specialist, Professor French has worked on many studies examining connections between a belief in the paranormal and a predisposition to form false memories.

“Anything that’s likely to make you confuse something you’ve imagined with something that really happened makes you susceptible to false memories,” he explains. “Fantasy proneness, being creative, having a vivid imagination or simply, as my grandma would put it, a tendency to be away with the fairies.”

So what does the future hold for false-memory science? Developments in optogenetics, a technique that modifies brain cells to make them sensitive to light, and then uses laser beams to target specific memories, have already successfully implanted false memories in mice. Susumu Tonegawa, a neuroscientist at the RIKEN-MIT Centre for Neural Circuit Genetics and the researcher behind the trial, hopes future findings will help to alert legal experts as to the unreliability of eyewitness accounts.

Dr Shaw explains that optogenetic research is now going a step further, with groundbreaking applications. “My French colleagues are doing some of that work on humans, trying to cut out trauma from the memories of veterans. So in extreme cases, there are potential future applications for severe PTSD. It’s very invasive, though, as you’re physically modifying the brain, so it’s definitely a last resort.”

These rapid developments are raising a host of moral concerns for researchers.

“The idea that techniques could be developed that would reliably allow the powerful manipulation of memory raises a host of tricky ethical issues,” explains Professor French. “There are no easy answers, but it would be wise for such issues to be discussed by everyone—not just scientists—sooner rather than later.

“Memory is rightly considered fundamental to our sense of who we are and many people instinctively feel it’s wrong to interfere with a person’s sense of self, even if they consent.”

Nevertheless, one of the most important focuses of future memory research relates to the criminal justice system and educating our law enforcers on the subject.

“A lot of police don’t know about this. A lot of lawyers. It’s shocking,” Shaw states. “It should be part of their core curriculum. The fact that there isn’t even a one-hour lecture on false memories for lawyers is absurd.”

Now 62, Peter Reilly works as a car-parts salesman in Tolland County, Connecticut, but he remains interested in cases similar to his own, sometimes taking time off to attend court hearings.

In an interview with 'The New York Times' in 1997, Peter explained, “I’d just as soon forget and move on, but it’s such an important issue and it could affect anybody. I have a responsibility to make people aware.” More than 40 years on, the mystery of his mother’s murder remains unsolved.

Accepting that our memories are vulnerable and that our past is always a fiction (to some degree) doesn’t have to be depressing.

“In some way, if you remove the weight that people often place on their past, it’s freeing—it’s quite Zen,” says Dr Shaw. “We’re storytellers, and what matters is now. Accepting that only makes us stronger.


DIY MEMORY HACKING

To see how easily the brain creates false memories, try this test on a friend.

Read them the following list of words: bed, rest, awake, tired, dream, wake, snooze, blanket, doze, slumber, snore, nap, peace, yawn, drowsy.

A minute later, ask them to recall the words. if one of their remembered words is “sleep”, congratulations — you’ve just successfully implanted a false memory by association.

(From the study "Creating False Memories:Remembering Words Not Presented In Lists" by Henry L. Roedigger III and Kathleen B. McDermott.)


By Anna Walker in "Reader's Digest", UK, August, 2017, excerpts pp.40-47. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

When we come to the creation of humanity, we find no one dominant account such as Hesiod provides for the creation of the cosmos. Instead there are a number of diverse, sometimes contradictory, explanations of how mankind came to be. Yet once again it is often Hesiod who enlightens us about these early ideas of humanity’s origins.

THE FIVE RACES OF MAN

Hesiod is the first ancient author to speak of earlier races of men who lived in happier times than the present ('Works and Days' 109–201). He identifies five races altogether, four of which are named after metals decreasing in value, just as the races themselves deteriorate in happiness and peace. First of all, in the time of Kronos, the gods created a Golden Race who lived a life of blissful ease, the ‘Golden Age’ (112–20):

"They lived like gods, with carefree hearts, remote from toil and grief. Nor did wretched old age beset them, but always with vigour in their hands and feet they took their joy in feasting, far from all ills, and they died as though overcome by sleep. All good things were theirs, for the fruitful earth of its own accord put forth its plentiful harvest without stint, while they enjoyed a life of peace and ease in abundance, rich in flocks and loved by the blessed gods".

In time this Golden Race passed away and became beneficent spirits (daimones) who wander the earth, protecting mortals from harm.

The gods then created the Silver Race of men, inferior both in mind and body to the Race of Gold. These men took a hundred years to grow up, and then were foolish and aggressive and neglectful of the gods. By this time Zeus had replaced Kronos as lord of the universe, so he put an end to the Silver Race and created the Race of Bronze out of ash trees. Their armour, their weapons, their tools, even their houses were made of bronze, and they themselves were so dedicated to warfare and slaughter that they exterminated themselves through their relentless violence.

Zeus then created a fourth and non-metallic race, the Race of Heroes. These were the mighty mortals who lived in the ‘Heroic Age’ and fought nobly at Thebes and Troy – and who are the subjects of our Greek myths. Some were so glorious that they were rewarded with a life after death in a paradise at the far ends of the earth, called by Hesiod the Islands of the Blest (p. 111).

Fifth and finally came the Race of Iron. This is Hesiod’s world, and our own: ‘And men never rest from toil and misery by day, nor from perishing by night; and the gods lay harsh trouble upon them’ (176–8). And things are only ever going to get worse...

PROMETHEUS AND PANDORA

Another tradition credited the creation of mankind to the Titan Prometheus, son of Iapetos and Klymene (p. 34). ‘Prometheus moulded men out of earth and water,’ says Apollodorus (1.7.1); and although there is no reference to this story in our extant sources before the fourth century BC, it may well have been much older. When the traveller Pausanias visited Panopeus in Phokis, he saw two huge rocks, apparently smelling of human flesh, which were said to have been formed from the left-over clay after Prometheus had fashioned the human race (10.4.4).

What is certain, however, is that Prometheus was from early times seen as the champion and benefactor of mankind, as Hesiod once again bears witness ('Theogony' 521–616). When gods and men were once about to share a meal at Mekone (later Sikyon), it was Prometheus’ task to divide up a great ox and set out two portions of food, one for the gods and one for mortals. He produced, on the one hand, a choice selection of succulent meats unappealingly covered with the ox’s stomach, and, on the other, a pile of bones, dressed in a layer of appetizing fat. Zeus was to choose the gods’ portion, and although Hesiod defends the great god’s wisdom by saying that he was not deceived, nevertheless Zeus still chose the fat-covered bones. From that day forward, men always took the best meat from sacrifices for themselves and burned the bones for the gods.

Zeus was angry at this trick and he punished mankind by withholding from them the gift of fire. So Prometheus stole fire from heaven and carried it secretly down to earth in a hollow fennel stalk (the white pith of which burns slowly and so makes it possible to carry fire from one place to another).

Once again Zeus was full of wrath, so he decided to balance this blessing of fire by giving men a bane to plague their lives: woman, a beautiful evil (kalon kakon, 585). Before this time men had lived lives free from toil and sickness, but now the first woman would change this forever. Hesiod gives a more detailed description of her creation, and of all the troubles she caused, in his 'Works and Days' (47–105). (We should, however, bear in mind when reading her story that Hesiod had no very high opinion of women: elsewhere in the work (373–5) he says, ‘Don’t be deceived by a wheedling, sweet-talking woman, flaunting her body, she’s only after your barn. Anyone who trusts a woman is trusting a cheat.’)

This first woman’s name was Pandora (‘Allgifts’), and she is the nearest thing the Greek tradition has to the biblical Eve. She was created out of earth and water by the smith-god Hephaistos. Athene dressed and adorned her, and taught her domestic crafts, Aphrodite showered beauty and grace over her, and Hermes put in her breast a nature of cunning and deceit. Then Zeus sent his beautiful but treacherous creation to Prometheus’ brother, the gullible Titan Epimetheus, who forgot that Prometheus had warned him never to take any gift offered by Zeus.

Epimetheus, charmed by this vision of loveliness, welcomed Pandora with open arms and took her as his bride, and in so doing condemned mankind to a lifetime of suffering. For Pandora brought with her as dowry a pithos, a great jar in which were stored sorrows and diseases and hard labour. When she opened the lid of her jar (usually now referred to as ‘Pandora’s Box’), these poured out and spread over all the earth, and mortals have never since been free of them. Only hope remained in the jar, still in man’s own control, to be some kind of consolation for all the troubles that Pandora had let loose on the world.

As for Prometheus, Zeus punished him too for his gift of fire to mankind: he had him chained to a cliff in the Caucasian Mountains and he sent an eagle, offspring of the monsters Typhon and Echidna, to prey on him. Every day the eagle tore out Prometheus’ liver, which every night grew whole again so that his torment might continue. Long ages passed before this daily agony ended, when Zeus allowed his mightiest son, Herakles, to shoot the eagle and release the Titan (p. 208).

The chaining of Prometheus is dramatized in the tragedy Prometheus Bound, traditionally said to be by Aeschylus, which was the first (and only extant) play in a Prometheus trilogy. Here Zeus is depicted as a brutal tyrant, and Prometheus is represented as having done more for mankind than simply bring them fire: he has taught mortals many useful and civilizing skills, including architecture, agriculture, writing, medicine, the domestication of animals, the use of ships, mining for metals and divination.

Prometheus is chained to his crag by an unwilling Hephaistos, at the bidding of Kratos (‘Power’) and Bia (‘Might’), yet despite all his sufferings he regrets none of his deeds, and continues to cry heroic defiance at Zeus, fearless of his thunderbolts (1041–53):

‘Let the twisted fork of lightning fire be flung
against me: let the high air be stirred
with thunderclaps and the convulsive fury
of the winds: let earth to the roots of her foundations
shake before the blasting storm: let it confound
the waves of the sea and the paths of the heavenly stars
in a wild turmoil, and let him raise
my body high and dash it whirling down
to murky Tartaros. He cannot make me die.’

At the end of the play Zeus hurls Prometheus down to Tartaros, rock and all.

We know something of the second play, Prometheus Freed, from fragments. Herakles killed the eagle, and Prometheus was reconciled with Zeus and set free in exchange for an important secret told him by Themis: that the Nereid Thetis was destined to bear a son greater than his father. At that time Zeus was pursuing Thetis, so this knowledge saved him from having by her a son who would overthrow him, the very fate that he had inflicted on his own father, Kronos. Zeus gave up his pursuit and Thetis was later married off to Peleus, and the fruit of their union was Achilles, a son who was indeed greater than his father.

THE GREAT FLOOD

Another tradition has Prometheus as the originator of mankind in another sense, when his son, Deukalion, and Pyrrha, the daughter of Epimetheus and Pandora, became the sole survivors of the Great Flood – a myth that in one form or another appears in a number of cultures across the world.

In the Greek version, Zeus decided to destroy the human race with the Flood because of mankind’s wickedness. Sometimes his decision was put down to the specific iniquity of the family of Lykaon, one of the earliest kings of Arcadia. Some said that Lykaon tried to trick Zeus by setting before him the cooked flesh of a human child, and Zeus responded by blasting his family with thunderbolts and by transforming Lykaon himself into a wolf (lykos), so his story becomes one version of the were wolf tradition. Others said that it was Lykaon’s sons who were wicked, and who set before Zeus the flesh of a murdered child, and it was this which inspired Zeus to send the Great Flood.

Prometheus knew of Zeus’s intention, so he warned Deukalion, telling him to build a large chest and stock it with food. Endless rain brought the Flood, and Deukalion and Pyrrha floated in their chest for nine days and nine nights until at last the rain ceased and the chest came ashore on Mount Parnassos, above Delphi. They disembarked and made a thank-offering to Zeus for their preservation. Now, as the only mortals left alive, it was their task to repopulate an empty world, so on Zeus’s instructions, brought to them by Hermes, they picked up stones from the earth and threw them over their shoulders. Deukalion’s stones were transformed into men and Pyrrha’s into women. The human race had begun afresh.

Deukalion and Pyrrha had several children of their own, most notably Hellen. He gave his name to the whole Greek race, for they called themselves Hellenes and their country Hellas. Hellen in turn was the father of three sons, Aiolos, Doros and Xouthos, from whom sprang the four main branches of the Greek people: Aiolos was the ancestor of the Aiolians, Doros of the Dorians, and the two sons of Xouthus, Ion and Achaios, of the Ionians and Achaians. It was traditionally said that Hellen divided the Greek lands among his three sons, and that Aiolos succeeded his father where he ruled in Thessaly, while Doros and Xouthos moved away and settled in different areas of Greece.

Of these descendants of Deukalion, it was Aiolos whose branch of the family was the most mythologically significant, for from him were descended many great heroes and heroines of legend. He himself had seven sons (Salmoneus, Kretheus, Athamas, Sisyphos, Deion, Magnes and Perieres) and five daughters (Kanake, Alkyone, Peisidike, Kalyke and Perimede).

Let us begin by tracing the story of a granddaughter of Aiolos, Tyro. She was the daughter of Salmoneus and (as so often happened with early – and beautiful – women) she lay with a god and bore great sons. Her grandson was Jason, the hero who led one of the most famous expeditions of the ancient world: the quest for the Golden Fleece.

TYRO AND HER SONS

Salmoneus left his father Aiolos’s house in Thessaly and founded a city in Elis called Salmone. He was a proud and arrogant man who thought himself the equal of Zeus. He ordered his people to make sacrifices to him and not to the god, and he even imitated Zeus’s thunder and lightning by dragging dried hides and bronze pots behind his chariot and by flinging lighted torches into the sky. He was not a popular ruler, for his people objected to having burning torches hurled among them by their king. But worse was to come, for Zeus retaliated by striking Salmoneus and his city with a genuine thunderbolt, and king and people were utterly destroyed.

Salmoneus’s daughter Tyro, however, had opposed her father’s presumptuous attempts to claim divine honours, so Zeus spared her and took her to her uncle, Kretheus, who was king of the Thessalian city of Iolkos. Kretheus welcomed her with pleasure and brought her up. Homer tells of her divine encounter in the Odyssey, where Tyro is one of the great heroines of legend whose shade Odysseus meets in Hades (11.238–55):

"She fell in love with the river, divine Enipeus,
most beautiful of rivers that flow upon the earth,
and she would haunt Enipeus’ lovely waters.
So the god who holds the earth, the Earth-shaker,
took his likeness, and lay with her at the mouth
of the swirling river, and a great dark wave,
a mountain of water, curved up and around them
and hid the god and the mortal women. He loosed
her virgin belt and drifted sleep upon her,
then when he had ended his act of love, the god
took her hand in his and said to her:
‘Be happy, lady, in this love of ours, and when
the year goes by you will bear splendid sons,
for love with a god is never without issue.
Take care of them and raise them. Now go home
and hold your peace. Tell nobody my name.
But I tell you, I am Poseidon, the Earth-shaker.’
He spoke, and plunged back into the swelling sea.
And she conceived, and bore Pelias and Neleus".

Homer tells us no more of Tyro’s story, so we turn to Apollodorus (1.9.7–11) for the continuation. Despite Poseidon’s injunction, Tyro did not bring up her twin sons: she bore them in secret and left them out in the countryside to die, then went back to Kretheus’ house. The babies were found and brought up by a horse-breeder. He gave them their names: Pelias, because of the livid (pelios) mark made on the infant’s face by a kick from a horse, and Neleus.

When they grew up they found their mother again, and discovered that for many years she had been treated with great cruelty by her foster-mother, Sidero. They went to punish Sidero, but she ran away into a sanctuary of Hera, and Pelias killed her on the very altar of the goddess (one of many acts of disrespect that would earn him Hera’s undying hatred). This recognition and revenge most likely formed the plot of one at least of Sophocles’ two lost tragedies named Tyro, where according to Aristotle in the Poetics (16) the recognition of mother and sons occurred by means of the box in which the infants had been abandoned.

Later the two brothers quarrelled and Pelias drove Neleus out of Iolkos. He took refuge with Aphareus, the king of Messenia, who gave him many of his coastal lands. Neleus settled in Pylos and made it one of the most flourishing cities in the Greek world.

Tyro’s sad story ends happily, for she married Kretheus and had by him three more sons, Aison, Pheres and Amythaon. Aison would become the father of Jason.

By Jenny March in "The Penguin Book of Classical Myths", Penguin Books, UK, 2009, excepts chapter 3. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

Burning ice, biting flame; that is how began.

In the south is a realm called Muspell. That region flickers with dancing flames. It seethes and it shines. No one can endure it except those born into it. Black Surt is there; he sits on the furthest reach of that land, brandishing a flaming sword; he is already waiting for the end when he will rise and savage the gods and whelm the whole world with fire.

In the north is a realm called Niflheim. It is packed with ice and covered with vast sweeps of snow. In the heart of that region lies the spring Hvergelmir and that is the source of eleven rivers named the Elivagar: they are cool Svol and Gunnthra the defiant, Fjorm and bubbling Fimbulthul, fearsome Slid and storming Hrid, Sylg, Ylg, broad Vid and Leipt which streaks like lightning, and freezing Gjoll.

Between these realms there once stretched a huge and seeming emptiness; this was Ginnungagap. The rivers that sprang from Hvergelmir streamed into the void. The yeasty venom in them thickened and congealed like slag, and the rivers turned into ice. That venom also spat out drizzle – an unending dismal hagger that, as soon as it settled, turned into rime. So it went on until all the northern part of Ginnungagap was heavy with layers of ice and hoar frost, a desolate place haunted by gusts and skuthers of wind.

Just as the northern part was frozen, the southern was molten and glowing, but the middle of Ginnungagap was as mild as hanging air on a summer evening. There, the warm breath drifting north from Muspell met the rime from Niflheim; it touched it and played over it, and the ice began to thaw and drip. Life quickened in those drops, and they took the form of a giant. He was called Ymir.

Ymir was a frost giant; he was evil from the first. While he slept, he began to sweat. A man and woman grew out of the ooze under his left armpit, and one of his legs fathered a son on the other leg. Ymir was the forefather of all the frost giants, and they called him Aurgelmir.

As more of the ice in Ginnungagap melted, the fluid took the form of a cow. She was called Audumla. Ymir fed off the four rivers of milk that coursed from her teats, and Audumla fed off the ice itself. She licked the salty blocks and by the evening of the first day a man’s hair had come out of the ice. Audumla licked more and by the evening of the second day a man’s head had come. Audumla licked again and by the evening of the third day the whole man had come. His name was Buri.

Buri was tall and strong and good-looking. In time he had a son called Bor and Bor married a daughter of Bolthor, one of the frost giants. Her name was Bestla and she mothered three children, all of them sons. The first was Odin, the second was Vili, and the third was Ve.

All this was in the beginning, before there were waves of sand, the sea’s cool waves, waving grass. There was no earth and no heaven above; only Muspell and Niflheim and, between them, Ginnungagap.

The three sons of Bor had no liking for Ymir and the growing gang of unruly, brutal frost giants; as time went on, they grew to hate them. At last they attacked Ymir and killed him. His wounds were like springs; so much blood streamed from them, and so fast, that the flood drowned all the frost giants except Bergelmir and his wife. They embarked in their boat – it was made out of a hollowed tree trunk – and rode on a tide of gore.

Odin and Vili and Ve hoisted the body of the dead frost giant on to their shoulders and carted it to the middle of Ginnungagap. That is where they made the world from his body. They shaped the earth from Ymir’s flesh and the mountains from his unbroken bones; from his teeth and jaws and the fragments of his shattered bones they made rocks and boulders and stones.

Odin and Vili and Ve used the welter of blood to make landlocked lakes and to make the sea. After they had formed the earth, they laid the rocking ocean in a ring right round it. And it is so wide that most men would dismiss the very idea of crossing it.

Then the three brothers raised Ymir’s skull and made the sky from it and placed it so that its four corners reached to the ends of the earth. They set a dwarf under each corner, and their names are East and West and North and South. Then Odin and Vili and Ve seized on the sparks and glowing embers from Muspell and called them sun and moon and stars; they put them high in Ginnungagap to light heaven above and earth below. In this way the brothers gave each star its proper place; some were fixed in the sky, others were free to follow the paths appointed for them.

The earth was round and lay within the ring of the deep sea. Along the strand the sons of Bor marked out tracts of land and gave them to the frost giants and the rock giants; and there, in Jotunheim, the giants settled and remained. They were so hostile that the three brothers built an enclosure further inland around a vast area of the earth. They shaped it out of Ymir’s eyebrows, and called it Midgard. The sun warmed the stones in the earth there, and the ground was green with sprouting leeks. The sons of Bor used Ymir’s brains as well; they flung them up into the air and turned them into every kind of cloud.

One day, Odin and Vili and Ve were striding along the frayed edge of the land, where the earth meets the sea. They came across two fallen trees with their roots ripped out of the ground; one was an ash, the other an elm. Then the sons of Bor raised them and made from them the first man and woman. Odin breathed into them the spirit of life; Vili offered them sharp wits and feeling hearts; and Ve gave them the gifts of hearing and sight. The man was called Ask and the woman Embla and they were given Midgard to live in. All the families and nations and races of men are descended from them.

One of the giants living in Jotunheim, Narvi, had a daughter called Night who was as dark eyed, dark haired and swarthy as the rest of her family. She married three times. Her first husband was a man called Naglfari and their son was Aud; her second husband was Annar and their daughter was Earth; and her third husband was shining Delling who was related to the sons of Bor. Their son was Day and, like all his father’s side of the family, Day was radiant and fair of face.

Then Odin took Night and her son Day, sat them in horse-drawn chariots, and set them in the sky to ride round the world every two half-days. Night leads the way and her horse is frosty-maned Hrimfaxi. Day’s horse is Skinfaxi; he has a gleaming mane that lights up sky and earth alike.

A man called Mundilfari living in Midgard had two children and they were so beautiful that he called his son Moon and his daughter Sun; Sun married a man called Glen. Odin and his brothers and their offspring, the Aesir, were angered at such daring. They snatched away both children and placed them in the sky to guide the chariots of the sun and moon – the constellations made by the sons of Bor to light the world out of the sparks from Muspell.

Moon leads the way. He guides the moon on its path and decides when he will wax and wane. He does not travel alone, as you can see if you look into the sky; for Moon in turn plucked two children from Midgard, Bil and Hjuki, whose father is Vidfinn. They were just walking away from the well Byrgir, carrying between them the water cask Soeg on the pole Simul, when Moon swooped down and carried them off.

Sun follows behind. One of her horses is called Arvak because he rises so early, and the other Alsvid because he is immensely strong. The Aesir inserted iron-cold bellows under their shoulder-blades to keep them cool. Sun always seems to be in a great hurry, and that is because she is chased by Skoll, the wolf who is always snapping and growling close behind her. In the end he will catch her. And the wolf that races in front of Sun is called Hati; he is after Moon and will run him down in the end. Both wolves are the sons of an aged giantess who lived in Iron Wood, east of Midgard.

After the sons of Bor had made the first man and woman, and set Night and Day, Moon and Sun in the sky, they remembered the maggots that had squirmed and swarmed in Ymir’s flesh and crawled out over the earth. Then they gave them wits and the shape of men, but they live under the hills and mountains in rocky chambers and grottoes and caverns. These man-like maggots are called dwarfs. Modsognir is their leader and his deputy is Durin.

So the earth was fashioned and filled with men and giants and dwarfs, surrounded by the sea and covered by the sky. Then the sons of Bor built their own realm of Asgard – a mighty stronghold, a place of green plains and shining palaces high over Midgard. The two regions were linked by Bifrost, a flaming rainbow bridge; it was made of three colours with magic and great skill, and it is wonderfully strong. All the Aesir, the guardians of men, crossed over and settled in Asgard. Odin, Allfather, is the oldest and greatest of them all; there are twelve divine gods and twelve divine goddesses, and a great assembly of other Aesir. And this was the beginning of all that has happened, remembered or forgotten, in the regions of the world.

And all that has happened, and all the regions of the world, lie under the branches of the ash Yggdrasill, greatest and best of trees. It soars over all that is; its three roots delve into Asgard and Jotunheim and Niflheim, and there is a spring under each. A hawk and eagle sit in it, a squirrel scurries up and down it, deer leap within it and nibble at it, a dragon devours it, and it is sprinkled with dew. It gives life to itself, it gives life to the unborn. The winds whirl round it and Yggdrasill croons or groans. Yggdrasill always was and is and will be.

Introduced and retold by Kevin Crossley-Holland in "The Penguin Book of the Norse Myths", Penguin, UK, 1993. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

Spirulina

IN MARCH THIS YEAR, A SAN FRANCISCO STARTUP ANNOUNCED THAT THEY’D GROWN THE WORLD’S FIRST CHICKEN AND DUCK MEAT IN A LAB.

After isolating poultry stem cells, Memphis Meats scientists had managed to grow them in a culture of sugars and minerals in bioreactor tanks. After six weeks, the meat was large enough to harvest.

“It was a historic moment for the clean meat movement. We’re developing a way to produce meat without the need to feed, breed and slaughter actual animals,” says Uma Valeti, a former cardiologist and co-founder of Memphis Meats. “Meat as a product is delicious but the current meat production process has some serious problems for the environment, animal welfare and public health. We need to completely change the way it gets to the plate.”

Demand for meat is predicted to double in the next 20 years. Yet raising animals for consumption causes pollution, deforestation and uses up staggering amounts of water and feed. “Worldwide, some 70 billion farm animals eat a third of our cereal harvest, 90 per cent of our soybean meal and 30 per cent of our global fish catch—precious resources that could be fed to billions of hungry people,” says Philip Lymbery, author of 'Farmageddon: The True Cost of Cheap Meat'.

Experts agree that we must find a more sustainable source of protein. Indeed, Henning Steinfeld of the Food and Agriculture Organisation of the UN has described how beef is going to become “the caviar of the future”.

In a recent US poll, one in three said they’d be happy to eat lab-grown meat and the race is on to find a way to mass produce a tasty, affordable product. Poultry is due to become the world’s most popular meat by 2020 and Memphis Meats aim to have their “featherless” chicken meat on sale the following year.

Sowing The Seeds Of Food Security

In February, 50,000 seeds from countries as diverse as Benin, India, Pakistan, Lebanon, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Mexico, the Netherlands, the US, Belarus and the UK were ferried to an indestructible mountainside vault on a remote island in the Arctic Circle.

The Svalbard Global Seed Vault, which opened in 2008, holds duplicates of seeds held in gene banks across the planet. It’s safeguarding 4.5 million varieties of crops, protecting them for future generations in the event of natural or man-made disasters.

“Despite political and economic differences, collective efforts to conserve crop diversity and produce a global food supply for tomorrow are strong,” says Marie Haga, executive director of the Crop Trust, the international organisation tasked with ensuring that crop varieties are protected.

She adds, “We still have a fabulous natural diversity of crops around the world—including 125,000 varieties of wheat and 200,000 varieties of rice. We’ve by no means unlocked the potential of these crops. Crop diversity will be crucial in developing climate-resilient crops for many generations to come.”

The Appliance Of Science

Virus-resistant sweet potato, flood-tolerant rice and maize with inbuilt pesticide are just some of the new genetically modified (GM) plants scientists have created to increase global food production.

Of course GM food—where scientists “cut and paste” one or more genes with desirable traits from one plant into another—is highly controversial. While the USA, Brazil, Argentina, Canada and China grow substantial amounts of GM food for human consumption, Britain, the EU, New Zealand and Japan do not.

Dr Prakash, professor of crop genetics, genomics and biotechnology at Tuskegee University in Alabama, urges, “With a growing world population and volatile climate changes ahead, humanity must harness various options to ensure sustainable food production. Biotechnology tools including GMO will be potent in developing resilient crops varieties that could be grown in the face of drought, flooding, salinity and pests and diseases finding new ranges. Humanity would benefit greatly.”

For example, erratic rains frequently flood rice-growing areas in India, Bangladesh and Nepal, ruining crops and leading millions to starve. In response to this, the International Rice Research Institute has developed a strain that can survive underwater for over two weeks.

Twenty to 40 per cent of global crop totals are lost annually to disease and pests. “Right now wheat is being threatened by Ug99, a new, very damaging wheat steam rust which originated in Uganda. It’s already spread to 13 countries and could wipe out crops in Asia,” Dr Prakash says. “Labs across the world are working to build a resistance to Ug99 into some wheat varieties.

“Human beings, since the dawn of civilisation, have been meddling with nature to provide food— agricultural biotechnology is just another extension of that.”

Regarding the safety of GM foods, he says, “There hasn’t been a single instance of known harm from the use of GM crops or food that are on market now—neither to the consumer nor the environment.”

He further shares his view: “I would like to see governments in Europe, Asia and Africa support investment and commercialisation of agricultural biotechnologies, and do more to help the public understand the safety and benefits of these technologies.”

Mealworms At Mealtime?

Mealworm canapé, bug ice cream or deep-fried locust anyone? Experts are looking at ways to persuade us to conquer our squeamishness and get our protein from bugs instead of meat. Indeed, some upmarket department stores and trendy London restaurants are already serving up six-legged critters.

Insects are a valuable source of protein to 2 million people across the developing world, from Central and South America to Africa and Asia. In his TED talk, “Why not eat insects?”, Professor Marcel Dicke, an ecological entomologist from the Netherlands’ University of Wageningen, says, “Two billion people in the world already eat insects and regard them as a delicacy—as we think of shrimps and crabs.”

As global meat and fish resources come under increasing pressure and prices soar, he says that many more humans (and livestock) should get their protein from lower down the food chain. Many edible insects provide all nine essential amino acids, plus an array of micronutrients including iron, zinc and magnesium.

There are many environmental advantages. “Insects are more abundant than we are. There are 6 million species—that’s a huge variety,” says Professor Dicke.

Insect-farming uses up a fraction of the land, water and feed compared to traditional livestock. Bugs also produce less greenhouse gases and convert their feed into food more efficiently. “Ten kilos of feed produces one kilo of beef—or nine kilos of locust,” states Professor Dicke.

But could entomophagy (the consumption of insects) really take off in the UK? Thringill Farm in Cumbria is the UK’s first ever edible-insect farm, housing up to a million chirping crickets in plastic storage containers kept at at least 25ºC. By the end of the summer, they hope to be ready to sell whole dried crickets and a “nutty” tasting high-protein cricket flour for use in food products such as biscuits and energy bars.

Richer Pickings

The challenges are not just to grow more food, but also food that’s more nutritious. This is particularly crucial for the developing world, where two billion rural poor are deficient in essential vitamins and minerals— often because their staple crops provide so little nutrition.

Over the past decade, great strides have been made by using a process called “biofortification” to add nutrients to various food crops. This can sometimes be done by selective plant breeding—but where a plant is difficult to breed or doesn’t contain the desired vitamin or mineral at the start, GM biofortification is used.

The following crops are already being grown: vitamin A-enriched sweet potato in Angola, high-iron beans in Brazil and lentils with extra zinc in India. Meanwhile, many other biofortified crops are being tested across the world from Mexico to Syria and Nepal.

One of the biggest challenges facing food scientists is the grave vitamin A deficiency, which is a major cause of childhood mortality in 90 countries and causes up to 500,000 children to go blind every year.

Dr Prakash explains, “Rice is a staple food for nearly half the world’s population and there are 100,000 varieties—but not a single one contains any beta-carotene, which our bodies need to make vitamin A. The only way we can add beta-carotene to a rice crop is through genetic engineering.”

“Golden Rice” has been created by inserting genes from maize to make it produce high levels of beta-carotene. Unfortunately, recent trials in India reported that crossing GM Golden Rice with an Indian variety had resulted in stunted growth.

But Dr Prakash remains optimistic, saying, “I hope Bangladesh and the Philippines complete their tests soon and permit farmers to grow this biofortified crop. With the advent of genomics and gene editing, I hope we’ll see further rapid development of biofortified crops. They’re the most efficient way to address micronutrient deficiency in the developing world.”

An Underwater Superfood Superhero?

Experts believe that algae (which range from giant seaweed to tiny colourful microscopic cells) could be one of the most nutrient-rich foods on earth—and an excellent source of protein. You may already be familiar with spirulina powders and pills in our health shops.

“Algae are tiny, single-cell organisms that use solar energy to produce nutritious biomass containing proteins, fatty acids, vitamins and minerals,” explains Professor Mark Edwards, a world expert in sustainable food based at Arizona State University.

“Algae are eaten by everything from the tiniest shrimp to the great blue whales. They’re the base of all life and will support our abundant food future.”

This ancient life form grows in adverse conditions including extreme temperatures, drought and salinity. “Algae grow using minimal or no fertile soil, fresh water, fossil fuels, inorganic fertilisers or pesticides and thrive in places such as deserts and non-arable land that would kill crops,” says Professor Edwards.

Where freshwater is scarce, microalgae can be grown in brine water or even treated waste water. There are already hundreds of rural spirulina microfarms in Africa, Asia and Latin America. Dried spirulina has the texture of crunchy noodles,a slightly marine flavour and can be ground into powder and added to food and drink.

“By 2040, I predict that algae-based foods will replace 40 per cent of meat products and 60 per cent of the soy, corn and wheat products we use today,” says Professor Edwards.

“A kilo of algae-based meat substitute (such as soya or tofu), delivers three times the protein of a kilo of beef, at half the cost. But algae will make the biggest difference to world food supplies by providing stronger nutrition for crops and livestock.”

Entrepreneurs are also looking at ways to grow algae in urban places. “Imagine living in cities where the buildings are covered with photosynthetic membranes and vertical gardens, collecting the sun’s energy and producing food for urban citizens,” says Robert Henrikson of Smart Microfarms, a US-based company that installs microalgae systems in community and urban gardens. “In the future, remote monitoring and smart technology will make it possible to deploy containerised microfarms anywhere in the world.”

By Amanda Ryley-Jones in "Reader's Digest", UK, August, 2017, excerpts pp.60-67. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

Discover the role of women in Viking society, their relationship with religion and their devotion to one Norse goddess in particular. 

From the one-eyed god Odin to his hammer-wielding son, the thunder god Thor, Norse mythology is full of colourful deities. They were an integral part of the Old Norse religion, paganism, which was displaced in Scandinavia by the end of the 12th century with the arrival of Christianity.

However, out of all of them, there was one pagan deity whose popularity continued to rise after Christianisation: Freyja. Devotion to her remained strong among Norse women despite Christian attempts to stamp out her popularity.

Freyja, along with her brother Freyr, was the child of Njörd and his sister, whose name remains unknown. She was married to Oðr and together they had two daughters, Hnoss and Gersemi, although Oðr’s eventual disappearance leaves Freyja heartbroken. She is the goddess of love, sexuality, fertility, magic, war and death, portrayed in Norse mythology as a strong and independent deity, especially after the disappearance of her husband. The majority of the information regarding Freyja comes from the 13th-century Icelandic sagas, most prominently in the 'Prose Edda' by Snorri Sturluson, who refers to her as “the most renowned of the goddesses.”

If there is one thing that can be assured, it is that Freyja was definitely a goddess who was not to be messed with. For example, when the giant Thrym stole Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, he agreed to return it on the condition that Freyja was given to him as his wife.

While Thor and the other gods were ready to cede to these demands, Freyja was left outraged and refused to cooperate. As a result, Thor was forced to dress up as a woman, pretending to be Freyja, to trick Thrym in order to regain his hammer. To the giants, Freyja was an object of lust and desire and was subject to their various plots and schemes to trap her into a marriage, as mentioned in the sagas.

Freyja’s ability to refuse these marriages reflects the real-life situation of Norse women. Despite the image of brutish and forceful men that may be conjured up when thinking of the Vikings, Norse women generally couldn’t be forced into a marriage against their will. Marriage was seen as an arrangement between families to build social alliances with each other, rather than as an institution of love. A male relative, usually her father or her brother, represented the bride during the marriage negotiations.

A happy marriage was in everyone’s best interests as it was a financial investment. The bride’s family were compensated for the loss of her labour, known as the bride-price, and the groom took her dowry. It was good practice to seek a bride’s approval of her future husband — an unhappy match could lead to divorce, ending the alliance that had been built.

Surprisingly, divorce was a relatively easy affair for the Vikings, for both men and women. Wives had the same rights as their husbands to end their marriage and they were often the ones to initiate a divorce. A woman could request a divorce if she caught her husband wearing feminine clothing and, in turn, he could divorce her if she wore masculine clothing. In some cases, a marriage could be ended if a wife and her husband had not slept together for three years or, quite simply, because the couple were unhappy.

The most popular reason that was cited in the sagas for divorce was violence — if a man slapped his wife three times in front of witnesses, she could go for a divorce. Compared to modern court proceedings, Norse couples simply had to state their reasons in front of witnesses before it was officially confirmed. The division of property was also an easy process as each party essentially left the marriage with what was originally theirs.

Although Norse women had a substantial level of independence when it came to marriage, they were still in an inferior position compared to the men in their society. It is easy, with sagas depicting tales of Freyja, shield maidens and strong, fierce women, to fall into the wishful trap that women held in a far more superior position than would be expected of the time.

Regardless of her greater freedom in terms of marriage, a Norse woman’s role was primarily to manage the household and the farm, particularly if her husband was away. Even in circumstances where a woman held some form of political power, perhaps because of her wealth, she was still responsible for the running of the home. That being said, it was also women who held absolute authority when it came to the household and so they still exercised influence in this way.

The situation was slightly different for widows, especially those of a high status. These women had the right to marry whoever they wished and could distribute their wealth however they saw fit. It was not uncommon for aristocratic widows to be able to support themselves as women held the right to inherit property and land.

A woman who was mistress of her own property, or owned her own estate, was known as ‘the lady of the house’ in reference to Freyja, whose name literally meant ‘the lady’, in honour of her popularity.

Along with running the household, a woman was also expected to provide her husband with children. For this reason, sacrifices to Freyja formed part of the wedding ceremony in the hope that the goddess would bless the newlywed couple with fertility. The sacrifice was usually a sow, the animal associated with Freyja.

She would also be called upon during childbirth, which was a dangerous and uncertain experience for Norse women. It was hoped that she would protect the mother and child, ensuring that the birth would go smoothly. As Freyja was known for her unbridled sexuality, it is unsurprising that she was worshipped for her role in fertility. At one point, it brought her into conflict with Thor’s brother, Loki, after he accused her of wanton and incestuous behaviour in Lokasenna, one of the poems from the 'Poetic Edda'.

Such faith was held in Freyja that women are believed to have taken part in numerous fertility rituals dedicated to her, which managed to survive even after the adoption of Christianity. It is really difficult to get to grips with the process of pagan worship, thanks to the lack of contemporary sources that are available today. Indeed there are the sagas where a large proportion of the information regarding Norse mythology derives from, but they were composed in the 13th century, some 200 years after the conversion to Christianity, and for the most part are inaccurate.

This also creates another problem, as the men who wrote the sagas typically failed to pay much attention to the subject of female worship — so how do we know that Norse women continued to worship Freyja after the decline in paganism? Well, there are a number of places, particularly in Sweden, which we know have names derived from or that are associated with Freyja. To choose names in honour of her is a testament to the goddess’ continuing importance in Norse society and to Norse women as a deity of fertility.

Worship of Freyja was certainly at odds with Christianity. Not only was she a lingering reminder of paganism, but also her sexually vivacious reputation went against the Christian ideal of a chaste woman. Young lovers would call upon her to support their affairs while women continued to look to her for matters on love and fertility.

Freyja was said to enjoy love poetry and, as a result, it soon became illegal under the new religion as Christians began to target the free-willed goddess and her popularity. For this reason, it is surprising to learn that the majority of Norse women actually embraced Christianity, despite its use of patriarchal oppression.

For Norse women, Christianity actually offered them some really appealing options that paganism could not. Most notably, it denounced infanticide — a practice that was used frequently among the Vikings, especially towards female infants.

It has been suggested that this is the reason for the lack of female remains discovered in Scandinavia that date back to the Viking Age, with the exception of Birka, Sweden, where the number of female graves outnumbers the men’s. For any Norse mother, the thought of a religion protecting her children from harm would have surely encouraged her conversion.

Another reason that women accepted Christianity so easily was its promise to give them a better afterlife. Valhalla, the hall of Odin, was not accessible to women after death as it was the destination for those who had died in battle.

There is no explicit evidence that clarifies where Norse women were expected to go once they had died. However, going by the graves of Norse women, who were usually buried with jewellery and household tools, it can be assumed that they did expect to enter the afterlife. It left them with one option: the realm of Hel.

Hel was a dark, dreary and depressing place, not exactly the dream place for women to spend their afterlife. It is hardly any wonder that women turned to Christianity in the hope that one day they would reach something better.

Speaking of the afterlife, it is interesting to note that although she was a deity of stereotypically feminine attributes, Freyja also played a key role as the goddess of war and death. As told in the Eddic poems, she got to choose half of the warriors who were slain in battle to enter her hall, Sessrúmnir, on the field of Fólkvangr, while Odin received the rest.

Judging by 'Egil’s Saga', it has also been assumed that perhaps women believed they could also go to Freyja in the afterlife. Egil’s daughter, Thorgerd, threatened to starve herself to death when her father refused to eat after the death of his son.

She declared, “I have had no evening meal, nor will I do so until I join Freyja.” Does this imply that women could hope for an afterlife with the goddess? Unfortunately there is little information out there, besides Egil’s Saga, to suggest that Norse women could go to Freyja after death.

Considering existing evidence, it is generally assumed that while those killed in battle went to the halls of Freyja and Odin, everyone else went to Hel. This leads to the conundrum of female warriors, also known as shield maidens.

Whether women actually held roles in the military continues to provoke heated debates, particularly when it comes down to recent archaeological findings, with arguments for and against. If women did indeed fight as warriors, it is certainly worth thinking about whether they would have been allowed to enter Freyja’s hall, or even Odin’s, on the basis of their profession rather than their sex.

Despite the advantages for women adopting Christianity, their devotion to Freyja continued, if the sagas are to be believed. It was said that out of all of the Norse gods, Freyja became the last living deity after the death of her brother. She continued to perform sacrificial ceremonies, increasing her popularity with her worshippers.

As Christianity tightened its grip across Scandinavia Freyja gradually became assimilated into Scandinavian folklore. Although the role of Norse women in society and religion changed as paganism began to fade, it seems that there was still some focus on the traditional mythology and worship of the fertility goddess.


FAMOUS NORSE WOMEN


Discover five famous women from the Viking Age.

AUD THE DEEP-MINDED (Queen of Dublin)

After the deaths of her husband, the Norse king of Dublin, and her son, Aud had her own ship constructed and she left the British Isles for Iceland. As a widow with control over her own resources, she provided land for the slaves that had accompanied her, whom she then turned into freedmen. She is often credited with introducing Christianity to Iceland.

THE OSEBERG WOMAN (Queen)

The remains of two women, one in her 50s and one in her 20s, were discovered inside the Oseberg burial ship, Norway. The richest Viking burial to be uncovered, it implies that one of the women was extremely wealthy and powerful. It has been suggested that this person could be Queen Åsa of Agder, who is associated with Oseberg.

GUDRÚN ÓSVÍFURSDÓTTIR (Literary character)

Gudrún is a celebrated and beautiful fictional character who features in the Icelandic 'Laxdoela Saga'. She marries four times, divorcing her first husband after he wears a low-cut top she made for him just so that she could accuse him of wearing feminine clothing and separate from him. Her other three husbands tragically die and she becomes the first nun in Iceland.

THYRE (Queen of Denmark)

Queen Thyre was the wife of the first recognised king of Denmark, Gorm the Old, and the mother of Harald Bluetooth. While her husband was away at battle, Queen Thyre ruled in his place, earning the admiration of her people. According to legend, she was responsible for the building of the Danevirke fortification, although it predates her lifetime as it was actually started in the Nordic Iron Age.

LAGERTHA (Shield maiden)

Lagertha’s legendary, largely fictional, tale was depicted by 12th-century Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus. When the invading King Frø of Sweden killed the Norwegian King Siward, Siward’s grandson Ragnar swore revenge. Lagertha, who had been forced into a brothel alongside Siward’s female relatives by Frø, assisted Ragnar, impressing him with her courage and military skill.


PROPHETS OF DOOM

Freyja’s roaming fortune tellers show her magical side.

As a goddess of aeiðr, Freyja was seen as the archetype of the Völva, a Norse seer. Seiðr was a type of sorcery that could be used to see into the future and was practised by a number of Freya’s followers, who travelled from place to place delivering their prophecies. Freyja herself was a representation for the wandering seiðr, as she supposedly roamed the earth in search for her husband, Oðr, who had vanished.

Völvas held a very prestigious position in society and were treated with great respect. Their status can be confirmed through the Völva graves that have been excavated, with the riches inside demonstrating that the women were indeed wealthy. Among some of the most common possessions to be discovered in Völva graves are magical staffs or wands, made from wood, iron or bronze. This is a reflection of the title ‘Völva’ itself, which means ‘wand’ in Old Norse.

In Sweden, a Völva was found buried with a piece of silver jewellery in the shape of a woman, wearing a necklace. It has been assumed that the necklace is a reference to Freyja and her Brísingamen necklace, which is stolen by Loki in the poem 'Húsdrápa' in the 'Prose Edda'.

Written by Jessica Leggett in "All About History", UK, issue 58, February 2018, excerpts pp.66-71. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

For as long as there has been medicine, there has been quack medicine — cure-alls predicated on cluelessness and more sinister snake oil scams.

1. GOLD (2500 BCE)

As far back as 2500 BCE the Chinese knew gold was resistant to corrosion, and they associated it with prolonged life. But with the rise of alchemy in Medieval times, the quest to create a drinkable form of gold kicked into high gear. Around 1300 CE an alchemist named Geber figured out how to make gold dissolve in a liquid, producing a salt – gold chloride – that could be mixed with water. 16th-century alchemist Paracelsus later claimed drinkable gold helped with mania, epilepsy and St Vitus Dance disease. Yet it was toxic. The gold chloride salts could cause kidney damage and auric fever. This made the sufferer feverish and involved profuse salivation and urination.



2. EATING DIRT (500 BCE)

The practice of geophagy – eating dirt – is ancient. In 500 BCE the inhabitants of Lemnos, a Grecian island in the Mediterranean, harvested red medicinal clay from a particular hill on a special day each year. It was washed, refined, rolled to a particular thickness and formed into little tablets, then the island’s priestesses blessed and stamped them with their official seal. But while clay slows down the absorption of drugs within the digestive tract and is helpful for healing wounds, the quackery part comes from the religious significance attached to the hills of Lemnos. These were claimed to enhance the pill’s power.

3. MEDICINAL CANNIBALISM (1st century CE)

In the 1st century Pliny the Elder wrote that “the blood of gladiators is drunk by epileptics as though it were the draught of life.” As time went on, however, eating human flesh also became popular. Puritan Edward Taylor wrote the 18th-century 'Dispensatory' describing how the dead human body contained a wealth of cures — claiming the marrow of bones was good for cramps, gallbladder “relieveth in Deafness” and dried heart cured epilepsy. Later, executioners made a pretty penny off the skin and fat of dispatched criminals. “Oil of human fat” was employed for wound healing, pain relief, cancers, love potions, gout and rheumatism.

4. THE KING’S TOUCH (11th century)

Scrofula is a form of tuberculosis that infects the lymph nodes in your neck, producing large, unseemly growths that continue to expand with time. Rarely fatal, it is quite disfiguring, but it was widely believed that it could be cured by the touch of a king. This became legitimised as a medical practice in 11th-century Britain and France when kings would touch scrofula-infected peasants. As a demonstration of their divinely granted healing prowess, King Edward the Confessor of England (c. 1000–1066) and King Philip I of France (1052–1108) began holding public exhibitions of scrofula healing.

5. BLOOD-LETTING (1623)

The earliest evidence of blood-letting actually dates back to the Egyptians in around 1500 BCE, but in medieval Europe barber-surgeons would attempt to bleed away smallpox, epilepsy and plague. Bizarrely, in 1623 French physician Jacques Ferrand even thought the practice could cure lovesickness – particularly if the sufferer was “plump and well fed”. His recommendation for a broken heart was blood-letting to the point of heart failure (literal heart failure, that is). He also noted that, “The opening of the hemorrhoids is the surest remedy.”

6. SPANISH FLY (1810)

The Spanish fly is a type of blister beetle, and it contains a compound called cantharidin, which causes blistering when applied to the skin. In the early 1800s a London dispensary offered a recipe containing a pound of beetle powder, a pound of wax and a pound of lard. This paste was applied to the skin for as long as it took to form a blister. It would be applied to the abdomen for stomach ailments or the lower legs for gout. If the patient became delirious, he would be blistered on the head instead. Unfortunatelly for some, the blisters caused gangrene, where the underlying flesh simply died and blackened.



7. SNAKE OIL (mid-1800s)

Chinese snake oil – used for centuries – is made with the fat of Chinese water snakes. It is high in omega-3 fatty acids and an effective anti-inflammatory. It was used as a topical medicine during Chinese immigration to the American West in the 1800s. In 1893 Clark Stanley began selling Snake Oil Liniment, cutting open rattlesnakes before massing crowds, plunging them into boiling water and using the rising fat. Unfortunately, rattlesnakes are less beneficial than water snakes. What’s more, the snake oil he sold away from crowds contained only mineral oil, beef fat, red pepper and turpentine – with little to no snake at all.

8. LOBOTOMY (1888)

With no surgical experience, Swiss doctor Gottlieb Burckhardt operated on patients with schizophrenia and psychotic hallucinations using a trephine (a round bone saw like a cookie-cutter on a stick) to drill holes near the temples. He cut through the brain’s dura and scooped out parts of the cerebral cortex with, in some cases, a sharp spoon. But while it was the first lobotomy, the term was only later coined by US neurologist Walter Freeman, who partnered with neurosurgeon James Watt in 1936 to ‘cure’ mental health. They famously performed an unsuccessful operation on Rosemary Kennedy, the sister of President John F. Kennedy. Lobotomies also left many patients incapacitated or caused them to die from haemorrhaging.


9. BEARD GENERATOR (1885)

Victorian England was probably the worst time in history to be a man who couldn’t grow facial hair because chest-length beards, bushy sideburns and elaborate moustaches were all the rage. To help, an advertisement for a topical treatment called ‘Professor Modevi’s Beard Generator’ ran in London newspapers, claiming to generate robust beard growth from a mere four to six weeks of use, even by “young men not above seventeen years of age.” Created in Germany, the concoction cost 5 shillings a bottle.

10. DINITROPHENOL (1934)

A compound called dinitrophenol entered the market as a weight-loss medicine around 1934, and it succeeded in rapidly increasing metabolism. Yet since it was also used to create explosives, was carcinogenic and had a nasty habit of killing people as they were “literally cooked to death” by the rapid increase in body temperature, it is little wonder it disappeared from the market just four years later. As if to underline how bad it was, those who didn’t die could develop a rash, experience a loss of taste or become blind.

In "All About History", UK, issue 58, February 2018, excerpts pp.56-57. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.

In the late twentieth century wine drinkers suffered a barrage of conflicting messages regarding the role of wine in promoting health. On one hand medical research, not uninfluenced by the wine industry, proclaimed the antioxidant virtues of wine. At the same time every bottle bore a strident warning on the dangers of alcohol consumption.

In the mid-sixteenth century a comparable controversy arose with equally mixed motives during a period in history when growing population and the expansion of trade encouraged the vigorous promotion of wine as a nutritious and medicinal beverage.1 This was also in the midst of the Reformation when not only was the traditional role of wine in the Christian sacrament reexamined on the basis of biblical authority, but its place in a balanced diet was reevaluated. Some writers were critical of medical authorities and offered fresh new insights, others attempted to restrain an apparently drunk and unruly populace by threatening them with innumerable diseases that result from drinking. This controversy over wine reveals the anxieties that faced sixteenth-century drinkers as they tried to negotiate the rival claims of health, morality, and pleasure.

Then as now, the medical arguments were informed by deep cultural suppositions and authors had their own particular axes to grind, some praised wine by force of habit and cultural prejudice; others carefully crafted their arguments with the aim of curbing consumption as a means of social control. The Reformations, both Protestant and Catholic, and their insistence on public decorum and morality also had an effect on early modern attitudes toward wine. The argument for regular wine consumption was never bereft of supporters. First, according to medical authorities, from ancient times to the early modern period, wine was considered a necessary nutrient. As the closest physical substance to human blood, it was thought to convert easily into blood and is thus easily assimilated into the human body. In his 'Alimentorum facultatibus' Galen settled the question in a sentence. “Everyone agrees that wine is among that which nourishes; and if everything nourishing is a food, it must be said that wine too should be classed as a food.” And “Of all the wines the red and thick are most suited for the production of blood because they require little change before turning into it.”2 This was accepted without question as a fact.

Yet physicians could not agree on how wine affects the body. According to the tenets of humoral physiology anything which is nourishing must be hot and moist since life itself is defined as the confluence of vital heat and radical moisture. Logically wine heats and moistens the body, something that can be empirically verified both on a cold day after a drink and after a cool draught to quench a summer’s thirst. With equally empirical evidence wine also dries the body due to its diuretic properties and in excess can accidentally chill the body. On top of this, due to its volatile nature, wine sends cloudy vapors into the brain which obfuscate the intellect, cause stupor and in extreme cases inebriation and loss of consciousness. In the end can wine be said to promote health or hinder it? Is it simply that wine in moderation is good for you, but in excess is harmful, or do the color, texture, flavor, and age of wine make a difference? Does the time of day we drink, the place of wine among other foods, or our physical constitution and age determine how we should use it?

There was a certain reassuring similarity between the words vitis, the genus of wine grape, and vita, meaning life. Among its unmistakable virtues it incites joy and perhaps less obviously aids digestion, provokes urine which cleans the body out and resolves clogs by means of its incisive and scouring qualities. Wine not only serves to “provoke Venus” as they politely put it, but to increase sperm production (which is after all manufactured from a plethora of blood) and thus it fosters conception. As a hot and moist aliment it is particularly suited for those prone to melancholy, those of a cold and dry complexion, and those Saturnine personalities such as scholars and artists, as well as the aged who are also cold and dry. Vinum lac senum est (wine is the milk of the aged).

Yet the question of the temperature of wine remained somewhat knotty. Temperature refers not to the tactile and measurable heat on a thermometer, but rather the effect that a food or medicine has on the human body. In other words how do wines humoral qualities (hot or cold, dry or moist) ultimately affect ours? Classical sources appear to have settled the question without much difficulty. Why the question was reopened in the sixteenth century appears to have been the result of gaining direct access to a number of conflicting sources at once and trying to reconcile their opinions or arrive at a definitive solution. It was in fact the rigorous tools of textual analysis used by medical humanists that were used to examine this question. In the end many authors struck out with their own reasoning, and their own cultural prejudices.

The first significant discussion on the temperature of wine was composed in the 1530s in Verona. A physician named Giovanni Battista Confalonieri attempted to clarify the question and his efforts were published both in Venice and Basel in 1535. First, he recounted the various positions: some have argued that wine is hot and moist, some say it is dry, others cool. Some insist that it depends on the type of wine and its flavor. Sour wines are colder and styptic or tannic wines are drier. He used this term precisely as we use the word dry today and its meaning comes directly from humoral theory. Unlike Hippocrates and Galen, Confalonieri points out that Aristotle was keenly aware that different wines have different faculties, and we should follow his lead in investigating these rather than merely relying on the authorities.3

With a rare appreciation for the role of terroir on the ultimate quality of wine, Confalonieri adds that the location of the vineyard, the exposure to the sun and properties of the soil are the crucial factors that will determine not only the flavor of wine but its use in promoting health. Even the water nourishing the vines affects its quality since some water tastes of “alumina, some is bitter, some sulfurous, some salty, some unctuous, some tastes like asphalt ...”4 All of this determines the medicinal virtues of various wines. He says “There are some wines that aggravate the head or cause pains, others that either remove pain or cause sobriety.”5 It is not then merely a matter of the quantity consumed, but the quality of the wine which will either leave you refreshed and invigorated or give you a nasty hangover. He admits that it would be ideal to have physicians investigate what properties are common to all wines, but that seems futile in light of the incredible diversity of types. Unlike the ancient authorities he refuses to make a bold and general statement about all wines.

Nor is there a simple way wine affects people of varying constitutions. It can heat those that are frigid, dry those that have superfluous humidity, and also cool and refresh the bilious. Depending on the complexion of the drinker the particular elements of which wine is composed may also influence its role in a healthful diet. A watery wine will affect the phlegmatic person differently than the bilious; a hot and volatile wine will make hotter constitutions drunk quicker because vapors (the aireal elements) rise more easily to the brain than in colder (and usually heavier) bodies.6 In other words, effects that we would today ascribe to alcohol content, metabolism and body weight were still perfectly intelligible in humoral terms. By this logic passing out is merely the result of the wine overcoming and suffocating the innate heat, just as water puts out a fire.7

The inherent differences among individuals also explain why some people like sweet wines and some like bitter.8 Our own humoral makeup determines which kinds of wine will be most effective at balancing our constitution and which our taste buds will respond most favorably toward. Taste preferences are thus predetermined and never absolute. In practice cold and dry people should enjoy hotter and moister (i.e. sweeter) wines while cold and moist people will prefer austere and tannic ones which will dry out their superfluities.

Confalonieri also settles the question of nourishment. Keep in mind as a native of Verona he had a vested cultural interest in wine. It is still one of the major wine producing regions in Italy. He contends that because it has such an affinity to our own substance, it nourishes first, particularly in those with tempered constitutions, and only secondarily serves as medicine for the infirm.9 Robust individuals should have no trouble concocting (that is digesting) wine and thus it should be part of our daily fare. Wine is first and foremost a food and should be a regular part of a balanced diet.

Apparently unsatisfied with this simplistic promotion, within a year fellow gentleman of Verona, Antonio Fumanelli, had his own 'Commentarium de vino, et facultatibus vini' published in Venice. Ranging across the full gamut of authoritative opinions both ancient, Arab, and medieval, Fumanelli examines Galen’s very circular logic that proves wine is hot and moist. “Food that nourishes is assimilated into the body, what we eat is thus familiar. Wine therefore nourishes greatly and is extremely familiar to humans. Since it is similar to the human body and the human body is hot and moist, then so is wine.”10 By reading the text closely he was able to point out that Galen’s position does not seem entirely consistent, because he prescribed wine for cold and moist diseases, which would mean that wine must be hot and dry.

In fact many authorities did suggest that wine is hot and dry. This is why Hippocrates recommended it for women, who being moister should drink uncut wine and drier foods to balance their constitutions.11 Aristotle and Galen used wine for ulcers to dry and clean their viscous humors. How wine can be both moist and dry is only solved with some simple logic chopping: wine’s substance is indeed liquid and thus it is moist and quenches thirst. But the effect it has on the body is to dry it out, thus qualitatively it is drying.12 Actual properties should be distinguished from potential or accidental effects, or as Galen called them, primary versus secondary qualities. The contradiction here is only apparent, not real.

Another way to put it is that wine’s active properties are hot and moist (and thus it is nourishing) while its passive properties, the way it alters us, is hot and dry. Thus wine is not only an aliment, but a medicine too.13 Wine increases our substance quantitatively, but changes us qualitatively. Or yet another way to put it, its extensive properties (expanding our corporeal substance) should be thought of separately from its intensive properties (the ability to alter our humoral balance).14

To those who contend that wine is cold Fumanelli answers that this is only the case when water is added. The wine acts as a vehicle carrying the water faster through the body and this is why it refreshes, even more than ordinary water would. Some believe that “wine with water added more easily inebriates, since water promotes the distribution of wine.” But in fact it is the wine that helps the water penetrate by means of its subtle penetrating force as well as an occult property.15 By that he merely means an unseen force in wine that causes it to course faster through the body than other substances. Even more surprisingly, Fumanelli insists that wine does also moisten the body, even more so without water, because it nourishes the moist parts of our body and satisfies them in a way that water cannot.16

Another problem surrounding wine concerns the role it plays in inducing sleep. According to standard theory drowsiness and sleep are caused by the brain growing colder and moister, the result of all the nourishing hot and dry spirits having been dissipated in the course of daily activity. Spirits are in a sense a rarefied distillation of blood, exactly as spirits of alcohol are a distillate of wine. (Incidentally physicians in the next century would explain how coffee keeps you awake with a similar logic—it is the hot and dry volatile spirits that have an affinity to our own and agitate the molecules.) But if wine heats the body, then why does it make us drowsy?17

The standard explanation runs as follows: it is not wine’s qualities that cause sleep, but its mechanical effect on the brain. Mental acuity depends on light and flowing spirits in the brain. Wine in the process of digestion creates cloudy vapors and these can seep up from the stomach and cloud the brain, causing sleep not from a quantitative deficiency of spirits, but by crowding and obscuring them. In extreme cases it causes total drunkenness.18

Fumanelli next explains that despite its medicinal virtues, wine is also nourishing, and is even more nourishing than solid foods. “It is quicker and more easily concocted in the stomach, converted into blood in the liver, and sent through the veins, and easily in every particle of the body digested and quickly assimilated into the members …”19 It penetrates quickly because of its heat and subtlety. Later he continues that it is finally in the body converted to light and abundant spirits, thus in a way lifting our spirits—in the other sense of that word, making us joyful. While the reader might have expected Fumanelli to recommend wine primarily as a medicine, and in only in moderation, in the end he promotes it even further than Confalonieri, as the ideal aliment and an invaluable medicine.

These works seem to have caught the attention of a greater medical luminary. The renowned Girolamo Fracastoro, also from Verona, soon jumped into the fray with his own De vini temperature sententia. It was dated September 9, 1534, so he must have read Fumanelli before it was published.20 Fracastoro, among other things, is credited with the first theory of contagion and for having written a long poem about the latest new venereal disease which he gave the name: syphilis.

Fracastoro begins by directly addressing his predecessors and wondering why there has been this enormous debate over the temperature of wine. First to allay some of the confusion, he says he will not discuss watered wine, which is quite different, nor very young, very old wine, or any with extreme medicinal properties, just ordinary drinking wine.

He makes the same distinction between actual and potential qualities made by Fumanelli. This explains why water even if served hot, cools the body, and why lettuce, though cold can if converted into blood offer us heat. This served to clarify why it is that no one really argues over the primary qualities of wine, which are hot and moist, but rather they disagree about its effect on the body.21 Fracastoro insists that a further distinction must also be made, between potential (future effects) that are active and those that are passive. That is, some result from the natural processes of our body, like converting wine into blood, but some merely happen to us down the road, sometimes altering us with no participation on our part. Hence the medicinal effect of wine—whose qualities can be other than hot and moist.

Being among the first generation of medical writers with complete access to the works of Galen and a willingness to criticize him, Fracastoro points out that Galen did often contradict himself. Sometimes he said it is an aliment and not a medicine, yet he included it among medicines. Clearly it is both.22 Here Fracastoro criticizes the opinion of Bartolomeo Gaiano who apparently took part in this controversy but whose work on the topic does not appear to have been published.

With this formal distinction between actual and potential, active and passive properties, Fracastoro can state confidently that wine is liquid and moist. But it still dries us accidentally, and that is its proper medicinal role, and that is why it is properly used in cold and moist diseases, which would include coughs, colds, catarrh—but not hot ones like fevers or gout.

One by one he counters the arguments of ancient authorities arguing that wine is hot and moist, and concludes in the end that they are all plainly wrong. When we speak of the qualities of a food or drink, we refer not to the fact that it is nourishing, but how it changes us. Whether as a food or medicine wine does dry the body and is in all cases therefore hot and dry.23 Although Fracastoro offers no experiment or concrete empirical evidence, it is nonetheless his actual medical experience with wine which dehydrates the body that led him to this bold pronouncement contrary to the classical authorities and his own colleagues.

Finally Fracastoro concedes that Fumanelli deserves credit and understands the topic better than his opponents, but he nonetheless calls it a dubious victory.24 Presumably Fracastoro was called in to settle this question in the first place, but in the end his own conclusion is quite different from Fumanelli’s, and only serves to leave the topic wide open. Rather than promote wine as the ideal aliment, his discussion actually restricts its use from a medical point of view.

The next major work to address the question is much larger and far more extensive than the three preceding books. It was also written by someone of a very different cast. A native of the Bergamo region and thus born maybe fifty miles from Verona, and a few decades younger, Gulielmo Grataroli was also a Protestant. Hunted by the Inquisition, he eventually took up practice in Basel. In 1565, after writing numerous dietary works, his massive 'De vini natura' was published in Strasbourg. He immediately announces in it that he is well acquainted with the works of all three authors discussed thus far.25 In fact in another work he calls Fumanelli “that famous and excellent Grayehead … of Verona” which suggests that he may have known him.26

But unlike his predecessors one of Grataroli’s major concerns is to lash out against drunkenness. It seems that he found the customs of his adopted Germanic city particularly odious. Wine does of course make you glad, as the Psalm says: “Vinum exhilarat cor hominis.” But that should not invite drinking to excess “like vulgar Germans and many others, who are accustomed to this particular vice, which makes men forgetful, overwhelms their internal and external senses, and suffocates their energy.”27

Grataroli in many of his works comes off as positively puritanical, and it is perhaps not surprising that some of them were translated into English. His translator rendered this passage on wine as follows “But being immoderatelie drunken and ingluuiously swilled (as now adaies many use to do) it is most hurtfull and the special cause of many grievous diseases” and it “doth too much humect and moisture the whole bodie.”28

Grataroli also complained about the custom of drinking the best wines at the end of meals with fruit, which causes the undigested food to be pushed into the veins prematurely where it mixes with the blood and corrupts.29 By the later sixteenth century condemning the common practice of drinking wine with fruit, or even worse with ice or snow, would become a major preoccupation among medical authors.

This is not to say that Grataroli ignored the various virtues of wine. It does convert into good blood, aids digestion, revives the spirits, provokes urine, helps expel gas, increases the natural heat, stimulates the appetite, opens obstructions, and the list goes on.30 But all this is only in moderation. In excess wine does exactly the opposite: it cools the body by suffocating the natural heat and leads to
apoplexy, paralysis, tremors, stupor, convulsions, vertigo, lethargy, phrenitis, etc. It perturbs the senses, ruins the memory, makes men libidinous and “fetid drunkenness makes men into irrational beasts.”

Clearly Grataroli’s motive here is not only to discuss the dietary virtues of wine but to frighten people into drinking less. His book becomes a tool of his puritanical desire to control people and make them more rational. He continues that it is obviously a drink inappropriate for children and especially women, who are naturally less endowed with reason. Wine only makes them more prone to lasciviousness and “they more easily commit debauchery or adultery.”31 Despite any avowed nutritional and medicinal uses, the dangers of excessive wine consumption seem to outweigh the advantages.

Perhaps addressing his new neighbors, he adds that getting drunk on beer is even worse, because it emits crass vapors that take a long time to dispel from the brain, so you actually stay drunk longer.32 That is not perhaps as bad as what Muscovites get drunk on, or the swill that others quaff mixed with cloves, darnel, poppy seeds, or belladonna in wine to get drunk (or rather drugged) quicker.

For those who care to prevent drunkenness he suggests either roasted lungs of sheep, seven bitter almonds on an empty stomach, raw cabbage (that was Aristotle’s favorite), celery seeds, or saffron. But with the latter you run the risk of succumbing to such intense hilarity that you might resolve the vital spirits and perish. Fatty meat, salted herring or better yet olive oil work much better because they prevent fumes from rising to the head.33 Drunkenness is conceived of entirely as vapors clouding the brain, so anything that suppresses the vapors should work.

Drunks appear to have been among Grataroli’s regular customers as well, because he offered tried and true hangover remedies. For severe headaches and especially after vomiting he suggests wrapping the head in linen soaked in vinegar and rosewater (both humorally cold) and sleeping in a quiet room. For women he suggests wrapping the breasts, for some reason.34 Sounder advice is to drink a lot of water. Whether he could clearly conceive of the dehydrating effects of wine here or was merely intuitively countering the heating effect with cooling water is not clear, but this would certainly have had some positive effect.

Most revealingly he condemns the “hair of the dog” approach. “Most pernicious however and truly most alien to reason is that precept to overcome yesterday’s hangover with guzzling in the morning.”35 In any case, what promised to be a medical discourse on the properties of wine had descended into a tirade against alcohol abuse. He even suggested ways to make the profligate drunk hate wine: by giving him wine in which an animal has been killed, perhaps an eel, or in which peacock feces has been steeped.36

To be fair, Grataroli does devote considerable energy to discussing different types of wine and the various effects they have on health. New wine is colder, older is hotter. Wine separated from the lees (defoecatum) is stronger but doesn’t keep as well. Vines that get a lot of sunlight on hillsides are drier in nature and conversely those grown in the plains are moister.37 All these factors influence the ultimate temperature of the wine and its effect on us. Even the color is important. Ruffum or what we might take to be a claret makes the best blood, but darker wines such as nigrum are crass, bitter, hard to digest, and generate thick blood. Palmeum, which is clear and aromatic, generates the clearest blood and is good for all ages and complexions.

Wine must of course be chosen according to one’s constitution, but contrary to custom, some wines are not actually good for you. Old wines in particular, he claims: “Wine quite old, that exceeds seven years, offers little nutrition, and is heating in the third degree and drying, and has the force of medicine,” meaning that it does not make a good food.38

The rest of Grataroli’s book contains practical advice for making, storing, testing, and correcting wine, including medicinal recipes. This is not directly relevant, but suffice to say that he addresses the question of the temperature of wine but that concern is subsumed in his obsession with inebriation, and his comments seem more a form of social control than medical discourse. Moreover the entire question of the temperature of wine and its role in a healthy diet remains wide open. If anything, the failure of physicians to decide the question definitively leaves room for wide speculation that veers far from medical orthodoxy.

For example Alessandro Petronio, who was physician to Pope Gregory XIII and Ignatius Loyola, seems to have picked up the idea that wine is drying, but further concluded that it therefore slows concoction in the stomach. “Every sort of wine slows concoction because it toughens food in the stomach and renders the chyle thicker, which water does not do.”39 He even suggests a little experiment of placing one fig in wine and another in water. The former will become tough and only the latter soft. Better then to drink water with dinner. Furthermore, drinking wine without water during meals is a very bad idea, and doesn’t speed digestion as many people think. This advice runs contrary to all medical opinion and marks the beginning of a slow and steady erosion of humoral physiology as it gives way to empirical observation and experimentation. Most significantly he suggests that wine is not harmful because it sends vapors to the head as some think but because it is dehydrating and as he puts it, dissipates the body.40

An indication that these Latin medical treatises were not merely sterile academic exercises but had an effect on popular perceptions of wine and its effect on health can be gauged by contemporaneous vernacular works on wine. For example Giovanni Battista Scarlino’s verse 'Nuovo Trattato' which discusses the various wines that were imported to Rome mid century also includes medical opinions. Scarlino notes that while most people prefer Greco, he believes malvagia is superior because it comforts the brain, the chest, and the heart, and invigorates the pulse during every sickness.41

In a section on the utility of wine, he reveals his familiarity with the medical literature: wine gives the face a good color, provokes urine “e ’l coito incita.” It sharpens the wit, chases wrath, generates blood, resolves clogs, provokes the appetite, and has a host of other virtues. But Scarlino, like Grataroli also offers dire warnings on the dangers of excess: it leads to headaches, premature old age, lethargy, spasms, stupor, vertigo, tremors, and nervous disorders.42 For an author writing in Rome in the midst of the Catholic Reformation, one can only suspect that he feared too enthusiastic praise of wine without some qualifying pronouncements would never pass censorship. His fears do seem genuine though, particularly in a passage where he complains that some vulgar people think that drinking good strong wine will preserve you from death, a perverse opinion bereft of all reason, and obviously a simplified corruption of medical opinion.43

Also appearing mid century was a fascinating vernacular dialogue that encapsulates the raging controversy as it was perceived at the popular level. It is deceptively titled 'L’Humore'. Its author, Bartolomeo Taegio, a popular agronomic author, here sets up an argument with a friend whose ranting denunciations of wine are systematically confuted. The friend’s logic is clearly a parody of sour medical advice with which readers were familiar: “wine burns the blood, destroys the seed of generation, diminishes energy, suffocates the natural heat” and leads to “an infinity of diseases such as dropsy, falling sickness, paralysis, gout, stupor, spasms, tremors, vertigo” and so the list goes on.44 Beyond that, wine ruins morals and makes people contentious, lazy, dishonest, furious and homicidal. Water is a much more healthy drink.

Taegio meanwhile, who had been spewing out poems in praise of Bacchus, finally refutes the warnings with another medical argument. Just as you would not blame the sword for murder, so you should not blame wine if someone drinks to excess. In moderation wine is digestive, nourishing, provokes urine, stimulates the appetite, increases the natural heat, opens clogs, etc. His list sounds as if it was taken directly from a medical tract.45 By this point his interlocutor has been reduced to curt questions while Taegio rattles off the other miraculous uses for wine. It is good for young frail girls, as an antidote for poison, and then he describes the effects that aging has on wine, how to judge it by the aroma, liberally seasoning his encomium with classical references.

Like the Veronese physicians Taegio, a landowner and winemaker as well, had a vested interest in promoting wine consumption. His dialogue shows that although advice could obviously be skewed, Italian readers were indeed still being presented with conflicting arguments in favor and against wine. The dialogue was essentially a long amusing advertisement.

The same could be said for a comparable Latin dialogue written by a physician from Sicily, Jacobus Praefectus. The dialogue takes place among four men over the course of a banquet and symposium that follows, and eventually is dominated by the physician among them. He offers standard warnings, how wine can lead to greater vices. In his opinion rulers at every level of government should abstain from wine, as should all public functionaries.46

He next criticizes the idiotic idea that guzzling wine before a meal is good for health and prevents aging. Apparently some so-called doctors were making just this claim and people seem to have willingly adopted the custom.47 But wine does have its medicinal virtues, one must merely pay attention to the temperature of the wine, some types are hotter, some drier, some cooler, etc. Some are useful for health, others harmful. For example, wines whose taste he describes as austere (sour) are cooler and should be given to those of a bilious complexion or to those who perform manual labor or live in hot regions.48 Sweet wines, on the contrary should be given to cold and humid people whom it will warm. Wine does have a medical role, but most people do not understand how it should be used.

The physician answers many other questions about wine, exploding other popular misconceptions, such as why Germans are all drunks, which he claims has to do with their more robust bodies and the colder climate. He also makes a remarkable claim that drinking uncut wine is useful for pregnant women, especially those with cravings.49 He denounces the custom of drinking wine chilled with snow or with saltpeter, which harms the brain, but approves of drinking wine with peaches, which prevents the fruit from corrupting.50 He also explains why you get a headache from wine flavored with sandalwood, rose, amber, musk, and other aromatics.

In the end, Praefectus offers nothing new, and in fact he is a fairly orthodox Galenist, but his dialogue is good evidence that wine was being used and abused for health purposes, and that conflicting opinions invited consumers to use alcohol for practically any ailment. His opinion in the end is that wine can be useful, but people should learn how to use it properly.

It is ironic also that the largest and best-known of all sixteenth-century books devoted to wine, Andrea Bacci’s 'De naturali vinorum historia' printed in Rome in 1596, devotes many chapters to the question of wine as nourishment and medicine, and the temperature of wine, but in a sense quells any productive discussion on the topic. He had apparently read about the controversy in Verona, raging while he was a young boy, via Fracastoro, and in a brief paragraph dismisses it all.51 Relying on the authority of Galen, here and elsewhere, Bacci merely claims that wine can be hot and moist, hot and dry, cold and dry, etc. and it all depends on the color, odor, age, flavor, latitude of cultivation, and a number of other factors. There are in fact no universal properties common to all wines.

Moreover the ancient authorities, above all Galen, were never inconsistent about wine, they were merely referring to different varieties when prescribing wildly different applications. In the end we should trust their opinions rather than range abroad with our own wild speculations. Bacci was, therefore, not much more than a hack. He merely wrote authoritatively and studded his prose with classical references. On the topic of viticulture and wine varieties, his work is unparalleled, but regarding the nutritional and medicinal use of wine he brought the controversy and fruitful dialogue to a grinding halt.

It was not until the late seventeenth century that new chemical theories and mechanical theories reopened the entire question of the role of wine in a healthy diet. Just as in the sixteenth century, wine would have its ardent supporters and rabid detractors, and medical questions here as always were formed by social and cultural suppositions. The same would be the case in nineteenth century with new nutritional discoveries, and is, of course still the case today.

Notes

(This chapter was originally presented as a paper at the Convivial Journeys Conference in Adelaide, Australia in July 2004. The author wishes to express his thanks to the organizer (A. Lynn Martin) and fellow speakers at that conference, the staff of the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana and to the International Association for Culinary Professionals Foundation and Martini and Rossi for funding this research. Thanks also to Sean Thackrey, winemaker, who let me use his astonishing private collection of wine books)

1. Tim Unwin, Wine and the Vine (London: Routledge, 1991); Rod Phillips, Wine a Short History (New York: Harper Collins, 2000). As in the work of B. Ann Tlusty, Bacchus and Civic Order (Charlottesville and London: University Press of Virginia, 2001), which explores the physical setting of drinking establishments in Augsburg and shifting official attitudes toward drunkenness, I hope to describe the medical literature on wine as a series of conflicting voices which could either promote alcohol for health or condemn it as a means of social control. This was not a simple matter of elites with a reforming or “civilizing” attitude cracking down on the unruly masses. Physicians, themselves a cultural subset of elite society, could adopt a remarkable range of attitudes, showing, especially in the
case of Italy, that alcohol consumption was not only an integral part of daily life, but something considered indispensable to health and well-being. In contrast to the German example, Italian elites seem to have been consciously searching for new ways to promote wine.
2. Galen on Food, tr. Mark Grant (New York: Routledge, 2000), p. 188.
3. Giovanii Battista Confalonieri, De vini natura disputatio (Venice, n.p., 1535), p. 8.
4. Ibid., pp. 13–14.
5. Ibid., pp. 5–6 “sunt et queadam vina quem illico caput, aut aggravarent, aut dolore afficiant, alia quem dolorem aut tollant, aut sobrietatem adducant.”
6. Ibid., p. 21.
7. Ibid., p. 23.
8. Ibid., p. 57.
9. Ibid., pp. 32–5, “Vinum homini proprium esse alimentum summaque cum sanguine nostro affinitatem habere”, p. 48.
10. Antonio Fumanelli, Commentarium de vino, et facultatibus vini (Venice: Patavini et Venturini Rossinelli, 1536), pp. 3–3v.
11. Ibid., pp. 6v–7.
12. Ibid., p. 14.
13. Ibid., pp. 18v–19, 23.
14. Ibid., p. 27.
15. Ibid., p. 43.
16. Ibid., p. 44. “Vinum non dilutum magis humectat, quoniam ut materia substantiam auget humiditam, quae venae et venter quae inanitia sunt indigent.”
17. Ibid., pp. 48–9.
18. Ibid., p. 75v.
19. Ibid., pp. 53–4.
20. Girolamo Fracastoro, Opera Omnia (Venice, Iuntas, 1555), p. 244.
21. Ibid., p. 228.
22. Ibid., pp. 231v–2.
23. Ibid., p. 234. “vinum simpliciter calidum et siccum est pronunciandum: sive ut medicina, sive ut cibus, et alimentum sumatur.”
24. Ibid., 234v.
25. Guglielmo Grataroli, De vini natura (Strasbourg: Theodosius Ribelius, 1565), p. 3.
26. Grataroli, Directions for the Health of Magistrates, tr. Thomas Newton (London: William How for Abraham Veale, 1574), C2.
27. Grataroli, De vini, p. 9
28. Grataroli, Directions, G2v.
29. Ibid., H.
30. Grataroli, De vini, pp. 10–11, 17
31. Ibid., p. 22.
32. Ibid., p. 31.
33. Ibid., pp. 34–6.
34. Ibid., pp. 39–42.
35. Ibid., p. 52 “Perniciosum autem et à ratione vera alienissimum est quorumdam praeceptum, hesternam crapulam matutina ingurgitatione profliganda esse.”
36. Ibid., pp. 55–6.
37. Ibid., pp. 58–64.
38. Ibid., pp. 13–14.
39. Alessandro Petronio, Del viver delli Romani (Rome: Domenico Basa, 1592), p. 58.
40. Ibid., pp. 60–1.
41. Giovani Battista Scarlino, Nuovo trattato della varietà, e qualità de vini, che vengono in Roma (Rome: Valerio Dorico, 1554), Bii.
42. Ibid., Civ vo, Diii vo.
43. Ibid., Div.
44. Bartolomeo Taegio, L’Humore (Milan: Giovanni Antonio degli Antonii, 1564), p. 10.
45. Taegio, p. 18
46. Jacobus Praefectus De diversorum vini generum (Venice: Jordani Ziletti, 1559), p. 19v.
47. Ibid., p. 22.
48. Ibid., p. 32.
49. Ibid., p. 36v.
50. Ibid., pp. 32, 49.
51. Bacci, Andrea. De naturali vinorum historia (Rome: Nicholai Mutii, 1596), pp. 55



By Ken Albala in "Alcohol- A Social and Cultural History",edited by Mack P.Holt,Berg, USA, 2006, excerpts pp. 11-23. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

Archeology shows the oldest settlements had religions that included the worship of the sun and moon. Later settlements included the other planets. Adding stars as gods came much later.

Sun worship included fire worship and human sacrifice. The counterpart to this was moon worship. Moon worship included water rites. The moon controlled the rising and lowering of the tides.

Later the worship of mother earth and father sky (air or wind) was added. At this point we have what becomes the worship of the four elements.

Pagans started to believe that four types of nature spirits lived in the four elements. Spirits that lived in the earth were referred to as earth spirits or gnomes. Water spirits were called undines. Air spirits were called sylphs and fire spirits were named salamanders.

Ancestor worship added unique gods and goddesses to each religion. Each pagan religion had the worship of the elements as nature spirits. If we trace back the individual names of each spirit from each country, we will find that each one is a kind of “elf” or “fairy.”

If we go back another thousand years or so, we will see that elves and fairies were the two different names for the nature spirits.

Nations and Nature Spirit

Scotland : Brownies, Bogle

England : Fairies, Boggart, Selkie, Shade, Pixies

Norway/Denmark : Dwarf, Elf, Wraith, Hob

China :  Hu hsien

Japan :  Kappa, Tengu

Laos/Cambodia :  Naga

Poland :  Domovoi household spirit or teraphim

Germany :  Kobolds, Nixie,

Ireland :  Leprechaun (Tuatha De Danann), Banshee

Greece/Rome :  Dryad, Nymph, Satyr, Kallikantzaros

Scandinavia :  Nissen, Tomte, Troll

Other European Countries :  Gnome, Goblin – Bogyman, Hobgoblin, Homunculus, Sprite, Fetch, Pwcca, Pucka, Ogre, Gremlin, Imp

According to some folklore, fairies go all the way back to Tuatha De Danann in Ireland. Geoffrey Keating, in his book entitled 'History of Ireland', states the Formorians were Canaanites who left Canaan because of Noah’s curse. They feared that they could not win a war with the sons of Shem so they took to the sea. Formorians were pirates, pillaging the coastal cities. They even observed the pagan festivals back in that time.

It is probable that in Ireland, today’s fairies/leprechauns are modern manifestations of the nature spirits from the early Canaanites, which in turn came from the pre-flood pagan religion.

To see just how closely the elves and fairies were connected to the pagan gods, see the chapter on Yule.

Ghosts and Spirits

The ancient church fathers were divided on whether a medium could call up a real ghost or if every occurrence was a demon. Turtullian and Philo taught mediums could not call up a real ghost. They believed the creature called up was always a demon imposter.

Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Origen, and Clement of Alexandria taught there were real ghosts. They taught that most of the time you see or hear a ghost, it would be demonic, but not always. However, all of the ancient church fathers taught you should test the spirits. If they do not confess the true gospel, they are demonic. A Christian can always command a demon imposter to tell the truth and he would have to do so.

“Moreover, if sorcerers call forth ghosts, and even make what seem the souls of the dead to appear; if they put boys to death, in order to get a response from the oracle; if, with their juggling illusions, they make a pretence of doing various miracles; if they put dreams into people's minds by the power of the angels and demons whose aid they have invited, by whose influence, too, goats and tables (ancient Ouija boards) are made to divine, how much more likely is this power of evil... The wicked spirit, bidden to speak by a follower of Christ, will as readily make the truthful confession that he is a demon.”Tertullian Apology 23

Paul stated Christians are with the Lord when they die and not roaming the earth.

“Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord... We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.”2 Corinthians 5:6,8

Jesus told the account of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16. In this story the rich man died and instantly opened his eyes in hell. He couldn’t get back to earth. After Lazarus died, he was with father Abraham and was unable to return to earth, either.

These verses alone would indicate any “ghost” you come into contact with is, in reality, a demon.

Demons Masquerade as Ghosts

In demonic possession, demons often pretend to be a god or a dead relative. They try to convince others that there is no Hades, no resurrection, and no judgment. We hear the same story among psychics and channelers on television today.

“in cases of exorcism (the evil spirit) affirms himself sometimes to be one of the relatives of the person possessed by him, and sometimes even a god… always making it one of his chief cares to extinguish the very truth which we are proclaiming, that men may not readily believe that all souls remove to Hades, and that they may overthrow faith in the resurrection and the judgment.”” 'Tertullian Treatise on the Soul' 57

Both the Bible and the ancient church fathers taught us to test the spirits to see if they come from God. Any spirit that tries to convince people that there is no hell, no resurrection, and no judgment is a demon and not a ghost.

The consistent teaching among the church fathers was that at death Christians immediately go to be with the Father. Non-Christians go to await the judgment in Hades. The idea of ghosts lingering on earth before going into the “light” was completely unknown to them and is not found anywhere in the Scriptures.

Kabala

In the Middle Ages a book called the Zoar was written by a mystic Jew. This book gave birth to the Kabala. The Kabala is basically Jewish sorcery. The Zoar teaches the doctrine of emanations, also called Lucifer’s lie. And it deals heavily with spirits and magic.

Until recently a kabalistic rabbi was considered a heretic. These days, however, the Kabala is considered just another form of Judaism.

By Ken Johnson in "Ancient Paganism", CreateSpace, USA, 2009. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.