Thursday, June 24, 2010
The Evolution of Emperor Worship
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Centurion's Riddle
Basically, it comes down to a problem of language. Centum is Latin for one hundred, and it's where we get the terms centimeter, centigrade, century, and cent. There is a similar word which the Romans used to describe their army divisions: Centuriae. This word means tribe or group, and literally has almost zero relation to the word centum. Avid readers will remember this post [link], where we learned about the Comitia Centuriata, which is translated "Tribal Assembly."
Lazy scholarship led to people assuming that centum and centuriae were related when it's clear that their similarity is purely coincidental. Imagine a future in which the people believe that the ancient English word Career meant being able to drive a Car.
Pax vobiscum
-- On a side note, I will now be posting a little differently - All the days will continue their present themes, but they will be on an every other day/week basis. So, Technology Tuesday and Theology Thursday will have to wait until next week, while Culture Wednesday and Famous Friday are still on track for this one. Having babies changes everything
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Culture Wednesday: The Early Republicans
Friday, June 4, 2010
Scipio Africanus: A New Kind of Roman
Monday, May 31, 2010
The Genius of Hannibal
Friday, May 21, 2010
Julius Caesar Part II: The Later Years
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Ancient Metallurgy
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Julius Caesar Part 1: The Early Years
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A Kinder, Gentler Paganism
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Why do All Roads Lead to Rome?
The simple answer is that the Romans built them. There. Satisfied? I didn't think so. We see in the Romans a penchant to absorb and syncretize the things that they admired from other cultures, and in one respect, roads were no different. Government building of roads has been with humanity since at least the Ancient Persian Empire, and it is likely that the Etruscans brought a road-building ethic with them from Asia Minor, and that the Romans appropriated this idea. And if there was one thing that the politicians could all agree on, it was roads.
The Romans didn't just level dirt paths; they had a method of paving these roads which made them durable and easy to drive on. Merchants from all over mainland Europe used carts to transport goods, and sturdy, flat roads ensured that their more expensive breakable items would remain intact on the way to market. Travelers and pilgrims eager to visit the famous Temple of Saturn in the heart of Rome could now make the trip without fear of getting lost, since Augustus made the Temple the starting point for the marker stones. If the numbers on the stones got smaller, you were heading for Rome, hence the famous saying.
The politics of roads was always contentious, with many Patrician Senators using their vast treasuries to pave large, wide roads and name them after themselves. Like the Gladiatorial games, this was a good way to endear themselves to an underrepresented populace of mostly Plebeians. However, anyone who built a road in the early Republic was required to pay for its upkeep, which could be a problem if a wealthy Senator got involved in shady financial dealings that went south.
Eventually, the Roman Empire was connected by a large system of roads, which were eventually all made public property. Armies could march over the roads very easily compared to marching through dangerous forests and hunting paths. While this also helped the enemy armies of 'barbarians' to invade, the Romans made a habit of building a system of outposts and forts near choke points, and had a swift communication system to help ward off the smelly hordes. The roads lasted for centuries, some of them being preserved up to this present day.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Siege of Syracuse
Located in south-eastern Sicily, Syracuse was an old Corinthian-Greek Colony with old-time values. Ruled over by kings and tyrants since its founding in 733 BCE, Syracuse enjoyed the many benefits of its central Mediterranean locale and became very wealthy through trade with Egypt, Rome, Carthage, Asia Minor, Palestine, and Spain. After the Pyrrhic war in 275 BCE, however, it was the sole remaining Greek settlement west of the Peninsula itself, and in a very tenuous position sandwiched between Rome and Carthage.
Syracuse survived for quite a while after Pyrrhus' final defeat because its leaders made smart alliances and used skilled diplomacy to ensure the protection of either Rome or Carthage. When the first Punic War broke out, Syracuse was at the center of the action and made an alliance with Carthage from fear of Rome. Luckily, Rome and Carthage fought each other so bitterly that by the time Rome got around to dealing with the unlucky Sicilian Greeks, they had already lost so many in battle that they were willing to settle for an apology and a cut of their trade. However, when the second Punic War broke out, Syracuse made the mistake of allying with Carthage again, and the Romans were determined to make them pay. However, Roman vengeance would come at a high cost to the Republic because of one resident of Syracuse whose mind possessed knowledge that could bring both great prosperity and very great destruction. This man's name was Archimedes.
I like to think of Archimedes as a sort of ancient world Da Vinci, except without the moral qualms about creating weapons. Where Da Vinci was purposefully putting gears in the wrong place so that his designs would ultimately fail, Archimedes was not only sketching these out, but utilizing them to a terrible degree of success. For this week's Famous Friday, we'll delve into Archimedes' discoveries in greater detail, but since it's Military Monday, let's focus on his original and horrific siege weapons.
The most famous of his weapons was The Claw, which utilized pulleys and complicated weight balancing to capsize Roman Triremes. Seriously, this crane-like weapon would hook onto the bow or stern of the boat, lift it out of the water, and send it crashing against the nearby rocks. Each boat carried about two hundred soldiers, so you can imagine the carnage that ensued when this happened over and over:
Another of his creations was an improved catapult. Again, using pulleys and counterweights, he was able to create an engine capable of throwing a 500 pound rock with much better accuracy than the inferior Roman scorpions and ballistae. He also contributed to the building of other weapons which could fire missiles and keep the Romans at bay.
The most controversial of his creations was his 'death ray.' Several authorities have tested it using various techniques, and some have been successful, while most have ended in a wash. Supposedly, Archimedes built a large array of bronze mirrors which could be turned, focusing their reflected light into a concentrated beam onto an approaching ship. The Roman ships, which were sealed with tar, caught on fire and sunk. While this does seem a bit far-fetched, I wouldn't put it past old Archie to give it a try. After all, it was Hiero II, the king of Syracuse and relative of Archimedes, who frequently challenged the genius and gave him the funding he needed to build better weapons since the first Punic War, so why wouldn't this mathematician try literally everything he could think of? Were there easier ways to light ships on fire? Yeah, lots. But if I were an invading Roman, I might think twice about mixing it up with an enemy who can light my ships on fire without shooting anything.
Syracuse eventually fell to sheer Roman determination, and Archimedes was killed, possibly while drawing circles in the sand. If not for him, the last Greek colony on Italian soil would surely have fallen in the first year, and Carthage wouldn't have stood a chance of surviving the Second Punic War. By the time the Roman army came to the gates of Carthage, they had suffered so many casualties from Syracuse and from fighting Hannibal for ten years that they allowed Carthage to live, albeit under severe economic sanctions. And when Carthage was finally leveled in the Third Punic War, there were no more brilliant mathematicians around to set Romans on fire from a distance.
Pax vobiscum
