Emperor Wu’s Lavish Entertainment For Foreign Envoys

Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE), like any powerful emperor, wanted to receive deference and respect from the weaker realms that neighbored his empire. One of the main ways that he spread his influence was through the use of his military might, which he used to expand his empire in all directions throughout the course of his reign. Yet, military might was not the only way he tried to impress and awe his neighbors—he also attempted to win over foreign dignitaries by entertaining them with feasts and spectacles that showed off the extravagant wealth and resources of his empire.

Sima Qian, Grand Historian and palace secretary of Emperor Wu, recorded for posterity a list of various ways that the emperor tried to use luxury and opulence to make visitors to his realm feel awe and reverence for the Han Empire. First of all, the emperor reportedly housed foreign visitors in grand and gorgeous lodgings. The dignitaries, however, did not stay in one place, as the emperor apparently liked to send the foreign envoys on tours of China’s greatest cities. When the foreigners were given time to rest in one place, the emperor smothered them with magnificent banquets and exotic shows.

In describing Emperor Wu’s feasts, Grand Historian Sima Qian wrote, “He entertained the foreign visitors with veritable lakes of wine and forests of meat and had them shown around to the various granaries and storehouses to see how much wealth was laid away there, astounding and overwhelming them with the breadth and greatness of the Han empire” (Shi Ji 123). As for non-edible entertainment, the emperor did not spare any expense. Showmen and exotic animals were brought in from all over the empire to impress the foreign visitors. Sima Qian wrote:

 “He would hold great wrestling matches and displays of unusual skills and all sorts of rare creatures, gathering together large numbers of people to watch…After the skills of the foreign magicians and tricksters had been imported into China, the wrestling matches and displays of unusual feats developed and improved with each year, and from this time on entertainment of this type became increasingly popular” (Shi Ji 123).

If all of the above was not enough to impress foreign envoys, the emperor still had a few options at his disposal. One such method was for the emperor to simply give the diplomats a parting gift of silks and money before they returned to their homelands.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Image of the Dahuting Tomb mural, c. 2nd-3rd century CE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

The Vast Vineyards Of Emperor Wu

Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty (r.  141-87 BCE) expanded his empire in all directions. He started attacking the nomadic Xiongnu coalition to his north around 134 BCE. In the south, the Chinese-Vietnamese borderlands of Southern Yue fell to Han forces between 112-111 BCE, and the emperor followed that up by conquering the North Korean kingdom of Chaoxian between 109-108 BCE. While these conquests were occurring, Emperor Wu had been sending explorers and diplomatic missions westward as far as the region now known as Uzbekistan. A primary task of these envoys was to find and obtain horses, for the horse population in China had suffered catastrophically as a result of Emperor Wu’s campaigns against the Xiongnu. As the envoys began cultivating relationships with the different states and rulers of Central Asia, other goods from the region besides horses began to catch their interest. When the envoys returned to China, they were accompanied by representatives of the foreign Central Asian rulers, and samples of goods from the west were brought before the emperor. Curiously, Emperor Wu was quite impressed by two crops in particular—grapes and alfalfa.

From 104 BCE to 101/100 BCE, Emperor Wu sent his military to campaign against the cities in Central Asia, leading to the conquest or subjugation of states up to the Ferghana Valley. As a result, the emperor gained access to new herds of horses. He was particularly intrigued with a type of horse afflicted with a parasite that made the animal appear to sweat blood. While Han forces rounded up Central Asian land and horses, the emperor had another project in the works on his estates in China—systematically planting crops from the west around his palaces. According to Grand Historian Sima Qian, “when the Han acquired large numbers of the ‘heavenly horses’ and the envoys from foreign states began to arrive with their retinues, the lands on all sides of the emperor’s summer palaces and pleasure towers were planted with grapes and alfalfa for as far as the eye could see” (Shi Ji 123). Emperor Wu apparently used his vineyards for wine experimentation, while the grassy fields were used to supply fodder for his stables. The aforementioned Sima Qian mused, “The people love their wine and the horses love their alfalfa” (Shi Ji 123).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Chinese landscape labeled Walters 35101K, purchased by Henry Walters in 1915, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

 

The Alcohol Exposition Of Rep. Fiorello La Guardia

The date was June 19, 1926, and the United States was struggling through the Prohibition Era (1919/1920-1933), a time in which the U.S. government cracked down on the mass-production and sale of alcoholic beverages. They did this through questionable and ineffective means that produced underwhelming and ironically lawless results.  Although the Temperance Movement and an alliance of dry politicians were in favor of Prohibition, Representative Fiorello La Guardia of New York was in no way a fan. On that June day in 1926, Representative La Guardia decided to express his dissent in a very educational public service announcement that the populace would be sure to drink up—he invited twenty people from the news industry into his Washington D.C. office and then proceeded to demonstrate to them how someone in the United States could use legal store-bought ingredients to make an alcoholic beer.

As the band of newsmen jostled for positions in Fiorello La Guardia’s Congressional office, the representative readied his ingredients. His desk was covered with glass cups and various bottles of different liquids. Like a chemistry teacher, Rep. La Guardia proceeded to hold up one of the bottles for all in the room to see. It was a non-alcoholic (or legally low-alcohol) brew—a product called “near beer.” He took this legal and accessible item and poured its contents into a glass. With that step completed, Rep. La Guardia next showed the reporters another bottle from the table. It was a container of malt extract tonic, another easily-obtainable product that was legal to own during Prohibition. After opening the bottle of extract, Rep. La Guardia raised up the glass with the non-alcoholic beverage already in it, and, upon receiving the full attention of the reporters, he made a show of pouring most of the malt extract into the near beer. After giving the concoction some time to ferment, Rep. La Guardia proclaimed that he had made a 2% beer with simply-procured, legal products. As a final touch, the representative drank the beer and sent the reporters on their way to print reports on his informative stunt.

Representative Fiorello La Guardia received rave reviews from the newspapers that attended his alcohol exposition. Dry politicians, however, balked at the gall of the man and protested. Yet, verbal jabs from his fellow Congressmen did not stop Rep. La Guardia from bringing his brewing show on the road. He was known to have done a second beer production exposition in his home state of New York. Prohibition, however, would not end in the United States until 1933.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Photograph of Fiorello La Guardia dated between ca. 1915 and ca. 1920, [Public Domain] via the U.S. Library of Congress and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• http://bioguide.congress.gov/scripts/biodisplay.pl?index=l000007
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Fiorello-H-La-Guardia 
• https://www.pbs.org/kenburns/prohibition/media_detail/2085902822-laguardia/ 
• https://vinepair.com/articles/la-guardia-homemade-beer/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/event/Prohibition-United-States-history-1920-1933 
• https://www.history.com/topics/roaring-twenties/prohibition  

The Vivid Feast Of Prince Seuthes of Thrace

Xenophon (c. 420-350 BCE) was one of those special ancient authors who not only wrote down for posterity the events of his time, but also recorded it in an absorbing way that pulls the reader into the atmosphere of daily life in his long-gone age. He did not simply discuss what the competing states were doing in his day, but also described in vivid detail the feelings and experiences of the people in these regions—the decadent lives of courtiers, the attitudes of common warriors, and the goings-on of civilians all fell into his scope. Xenophon’s insight into the different sections of society was greatly enlightened by his own colorful career. An Athenian scholar (who studied under Socrates), a landed aristocrat, and a mercenary captain who worked with royalty in Persia, Thrace and Sparta, Xenophon’s personal experiences gave his works incredible depth and life.

One such vivid scene of daily existence was Xenophon’s description of a feast hosted by Prince Seuthes of Thrace. The year was 399 BCE, and Seuthes had just hired the mercenary company to which Xenophon belonged. To celebrate their partnership, Seuthes invited the commanding officers of the mercenaries to a banquet with himself and his courtiers. In his Anabasis, which covered the mercenary company’s career from 401-399 BCE, Xenophon wrote down what he and his comrades saw as they joined the Thracians for the feast:

“The dinner guests included the most high-ranking of the Thracians who were there, the Greek generals and company commanders, and envoys from various communities. Once they had gone inside, they were seated for the meal in a circle, and then three-legged tables were brought in for everyone. There were about twenty of these tables and they were laden with slices of meat joined by skewers onto huge loaves of risen bread. For the most part, the tables were placed, according to Thracian custom, by each of the guests” (Anabasis, 7.3).

Along with the tables of food, the Thracian prince also provided each guest his own horn of wine, handed out by cup-bearers. The host also had on hand a band of musicians playing horns and trumpets, as well as some comedians or jesters, who were eventually given the stage in the course of the evening. When all the pieces of the banquet were in place, Xenophon watched with amusement as the Thracian prince started off the feast with an interesting local custom:

“Seuthes initiated the proceedings as follows: he picked up the loaves which had been served in front of him, broke them into small pieces, and tossed the pieces to whichever of the guests he felt like. Then he did the same with the meat, leaving himself only morsels. Once he had finished, everyone else who had a table placed near by did the same. But an Arcadian called Arystas, who had a prodigious appetite, could not be bothered with throwing pieces of food around: he just picked up a three-choenix-sized loaf, put some meat on his knees, and began to eat” (Anabasis, 7.3).

After everyone had their fill of the food, the drinking and socializing continued. In time, courtiers among the banqueters began to offer gifts to Seuthes. The presents greatly differed in size and value—a silver goblet, a carpet, a white horse and a slave were all reportedly handed over to Seuthes during the course of the evening. Xenophon, however, was caught off guard by the gift-giving and, having brought nothing, improvised a speech to make up for his lack of an offering. His gift, he claimed, would be the land and wealth soon to be delivered to Seuthes by the mercenary company.

As the drinking continued, the group became quite merry. By the end of the feast, Xenophon, who was “a little tipsy” (Anabasis, 7.3), gave a public and long-winded pledge of friendship to the Thracian prince. Yet, Xenophon was not the only one feeling jolly—he wrote, “Seuthes also stood up on his own, yelled out a war-cry, and with great agility performed a vigorous dance which simulated the dodging of missiles” (Anabasis, 7.3).

Although they were all evidently having a great time, the mercenaries kept a strict schedule. When the sun began to set, the mercenary officers at the banquet proclaimed that they had to take their leave to prepare their army’s nighttime security. After ceremoniously sprinkling out the last drops of wine from the feast, Prince Seuthes gave the mercenaries a counter-offer, suggesting that they set off on their campaign that very night. According to Xenophon, the mercenaries accepted the proposal and they all began their march around midnight.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scene depicting Achilles from Pompeii, c. 1st century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.

The Honey Of Madness In The Pontic Mountains

The Pontic Mountains in northern Anatolia gained a fearsome reputation in the ancient Greek and Roman world. Curiously enough, the region’s notoriety was in large part due to its not-so-sweet honey. In fact, several ancient armies unfortunately discovered that some of the honey produced in the Pontic Mountains could be poisonous and mind altering.

In Greece, the mad honey of the Pontic Mountains was popularized by Xenophon, an Athenian philosopher, historian and mercenary, who personally encountered the honey while serving with a famous mercenary company, known as the Ten Thousand. A Persian prince named Cyrus the Younger hired the mercenary company in 401 BCE for a failed revolt against King Artaxerxes II. When Cyrus was killed and his revolt crushed, the Greek mercenaries found themselves alone and unwelcome in the vicinity of Babylonia. While being pursued by Persian forces and ambushed by local tribes, the Greeks weaved their way through Mesopotamia and Armenia to reach the Pontic Mountains, from which they could see the Black Sea. Nearby was the Greek-inhabited coastal city of Trapezus, but the Greeks could not reach it in a single day, and would have to camp in the mountains for several days until they neared the coast.

After having defeated a militia of Colchians, the mercenaries encountered very little resistance during their march to Trapezus. They took a detour to some villages on the mountainside, and no one stopped the Greeks from helping themselves to the local supplies. In particular, the mercenaries were delighted to find an abundance of beehives and honeycomb around the villages. Yet, the honey would turn out to be potentially more dangerous than local militias. Xenophon vividly described the scene that occurred after the Greeks ate their fill of the honey:

“all the men who ate honeycomb became deranged, suffered from vomiting and diarrhea, and were too weak to stand up. Those who had eaten a little behaved as though they were drunk, while those who had eaten a lot behaved like madmen, or even like people on the point of death. The ground was so thickly covered with supine men that it looked like the aftermath of a defeat, and morale plummeted” (Anabasis, Book 4, section 8).

Fortunately for Xenophon and the Greek mercenaries, the worst effects of the honey wore off after 24 hours, and the group was able to resume their march to Trapezus after a few more days of rest. Several centuries later, however, a Roman army in the region had less luck with the honey.

According to the Roman geographer and historian, Strabo (c. 64 BCE-21+ CE), Pompey the Great lost a portion of his army to the effects of the mad honey in the Pontic Mountains. In 66 BCE, he had been assigned to command Roman forces against King Mithridates VI in Pontus. When Mithridates committed suicide in 63 BCE, Pompey had a fairly free hand in reorganizing the region.

One particular community in the Pontic Mountains gave Pompey difficulty. Strabo identified this group as the Heptacometae, which he believed was linked to a certain Mossynoeci people that Xenophon and the Ten Thousand encountered centuries earlier. According to Strabo, the Heptacometae weaponized the poisonous honey of the Pontic Mountains and successfully used it in war against a portion of Pompey’s army. Strabo wrote:

“The Heptacometae cut down three maniples of Pompey's army when they were passing through the mountainous country; for they mixed bowls of the crazing honey which is yielded by the tree-twigs, and placed them in the roads, and then, when the soldiers drank the mixture and lost their senses, they attacked them and easily disposed of them” (Geography, Book 12, chapter 3, section 18).

Interestingly, scientists in the late 19th century claimed to have solved the mystery of the honey. In a 1889 study, the maddening properties in the Pontic honey were attributed to andromedotoxin that bees picked up from a local variety of yellow-flower rhododendron (Rhododendron luteum). Honey produced in May and June from bees in regions dominated by the Pontic rhododendrons apparently had a concentration of andromedotoxin that was high enough to make it dangerous to consume.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Cupid the Honey Thief by Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Strabo/12C*.html#ref45
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Pompey-the-Great