The Child Who Became A Minister In The Kingdom Of Qin

Ancient China gave birth to countless intellectuals, philosophers and strategists who found employment under the rival kings leading the numerous warring Chinese states. Among the long list of advisors, bureaucrats, generals and statesmen who thrived in that war-torn time, one particular name stands out from the others—Gan Luo.

Not all that much is known about the life of Gan Luo. He can be roughly dated as living during the reign of King Zheng (the future First Emperor of China), who ascended the throne of Qin around 247 or 246 BCE. He also studied under the Qin minister, Lü Buwei, who was said to have committed suicide around 235 BCE. Therefore, Gan Luo’s entry into the Qin government can be placed loosely between those dates.

According to the sources of the Grand Historian, Sima Qian (145-90 BCE), Gan Luo was only 12 years old when he began to serve the kingdom of Qin. Despite his young age, Gan Luo displayed a mind of wisdom and cunning. When Lü Buwei could not convince a man named Zhang Tang to become the next (pro-Qin) prime minister of the kingdom of Yan, the young Gan Luo succeeded where his master had failed. The child followed up that feat by traveling to the kingdom of Zhao, where he impressively convinced King Xiang to cede five cities to the kingdom of Qin. Gan Luo also worked out a deal where the kingdom of Qin would support Zhao in an upcoming war with the kingdom of Yan. In that conflict, Sima Qian claimed that Zhao seized thirty cities from Yan, of which eleven of the captured cities were then handed over to the kingdom of Qin.

After returning home from his successful mission in Zhao, King Zheng of Qin gave the boy great wealth and promoted him to a high ministerial rank. After that, Gan Luo seemingly vanished from history. Perhaps, he died shortly after returning to Qin. Or, more hopefully, he quit politics and lived a happy life of luxury, ignoring the chaotic world he lived within.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (One Hundred Children in the Long Spring, by Su Hanchen (1101–1161), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993. 
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/Literature/Diverse/zonghengjia.html  

A Roman Knight Was Almost Convicted Of Treason Because Of A Single Silver Plate

Around the year 22, a Roman knight named Lucius Ennius possessed a silver statue of the reigning emperor, Tiberius. According to the historian and Roman statesman, Tacitus (c. 56-117), this particular knight thought the silver in his statue was wasted on the likeness of Tiberius, and began to dream of repurposing the silver by melting it down and creating something new with the raw material. In the end, he interestingly decided on having the silver turned into a plate.

Lucius Ennius’ decision, in general, was unwise. Yet, he also picked a particularly bad time to deface a statue of an emperor. Although Emperor Tiberius was ruling in a relatively virtuous manner in the year 22, there had already been numerous treason trials and the prevalent prosecutors in the empire’s capital were all-too-willing to seize the property of supposed traitors who were faced with exile or execution. In such an atmosphere, it is unsurprising that the scandalous origin of Lucius Ennius’ brand new silver dish was discovered and he was brought before the Senate on charges of treason.

Thankfully for the knight, the year 22 fell within the more pleasant period of Tiberius’ reign, so the emperor actually forgave Lucius Ennius and vetoed the charge of treason. In response, a senator named Gaius Ateius Capito argued that the trial should be allowed to go forward, as Ennius’ action had been a crime not only against the emperor, but also the state, as a whole. Tiberius, sensing the senator was challenging his authority, doubled down on his veto of the treason charge and Lucius Ennius was spared.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Roman feast painted by Roberto Bompiani  (1821–1908), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources: 

• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996. 

The Rise And Disappearance Of Marie Waite, A Rumrunner During The U. S. Prohibition

In 1917, the 18th Amendment to the United States Constitution was proposed and sent out to the states for ratification. The amendment, if passed, would ban the production, distribution and sale of alcoholic beverages in the United States. It took some time, but the amendment was eventually ratified in 1919 and implemented in the everyday life of Americans by 1920. Although the sale of alcohol was now illegal, secret speakeasies and other underground bars still roared with activity. It immediately became apparent that anyone who could satisfy the formidable thirst of the American population would make a fortune. While flashy, less-subtle bootleggers like Al Capone took up most of the prohibition spotlight, other enterprising criminals carved out their own empires of alcohol.

Rumrunners shipping illicit goods into the United States from the Caribbean posed a constant problem for the U.S. Coast Guard. Marie Waite was one of these smugglers, but she had a relatively late rise to power in the rumrunning scene. This was because the “Bahama Queen” of rumrunners, Gertrude Lythgoe, dominated smuggling in the Caribbean for the first half of the 1920s. In those years, Marie Waite restrained her ambitions while her husband, Charlie Waite, became a prominent smuggler in his own right. Nevertheless, a power vacuum opened up in the middle of the decade—Gertrude Lythgoe retired from the smuggling business in 1925 and Marie’s husband, Charlie, died during a shootout near Biscayne Bay, Florida, in 1926. Shortly after Charlie Waite’s death, Marie began her own bid for power in the Caribbean and soon proved that she had a keen eye for the trade. And so began the reign of “Spanish Marie.”

Spanish Marie made a fortune by creating an adaptable smuggling route leading from Havana, Cuba, to various locations in southern Florida. At the height of her power, she fielded an armada of fifteen ships, which were usually dispatched in caravans of four. From her position on the flagship of the flotilla, a vessel named Kid Boots, Marie used radio-transmitted codes to keep in contact with her ships and to evade the U.S. Coast Guard. Yet, if a caravan did manage to be caught, at least one ship was usually armed for battle. By 1927, Marie Waite managed to position herself as the leading rumrunner of the Caribbean through the use of bribery, intimidation and smart administration.

Spanish Marie’s heyday, however, was cut short. On March 12, 1928, the U. S. Coast Guard captured Marie Waite while she was personally offloading more than 5,000 bottles of alcohol onto trucks waiting near Miami, Florida. In a mysterious end to her tale, she was released on bail and virtually disappeared, both from the law and, supposedly, from rum-running. It was a decent time to retire and go into hiding—the Prohibition era was coming to a close and would end, in 1933, with the ratification of the 21st Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Rum Runner ship "Linwood" set afire by her crew to scuttle her and destroy evidence. Contraband is seen on the deck. Photographed by the U.S. Coast Guard, c. 1923. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• http://www.history.com/topics/prohibition 
• https://www.britannica.com/event/Prohibition-United-States-history-1920-1933 
• https://sallyjling.org/marie-waite-spanish-marie/ 
• https://www.saveur.com/rumrunners  

The Spicy Demands of The Visigoth King Alaric

Alaric was a Visigoth who, like many of his kinsmen, had served in the Roman military under Emperor Theodosius I (r. 379-395). Upon the death of Theodosius I, the emperor’s two sons, Arcadius and Honorius, took control of the eastern and western halves of the empire, respectively. Around that same time (c. 394-395), Alaric also ascended to power—he became King of the Visigoths. With the empire fractured and going through the strains of succession, King Alaric seized the opportunity to forcefully renegotiate the status quo between his people and the Romans.

Seeking resources, land and, if possible, citizenship in the Roman Empire, King Alaric led his Visigoths first against the Roman east. He was quickly diverted, however, and rerouted his ambitions to the west, with his sights specifically set on the city of Rome. For most of the first decade of the 5th century, Alaric’s maneuvers were constantly countered by the skilled Roman-Vandal general, Flavius Stilicho. Emperor Honorius, however, executed Stilicho in 408, leaving King Alaric’s growing power unchecked.

From 408-410, King Alaric held annual sieges of Rome. Much of this time he spent trying to negotiate with Emperor Honorius. He was willing to return to his position as an ally of Rome if his people were granted land, resources and an improved status in the empire. Alaric, however, could never get the emperor to make a deal, even after capturing Honorius’ sister, setting up a puppet emperor, and obtaining the promise of the Roman Senate to mediate negotiations between Alaric and Honorius.

As he was still trying to negotiate with the Romans, King Alaric was willing to accept bribes to call off his sieges of Rome. In 408, the Senate was said to have paid off the Visigoths with an enormous two tons of gold, and thirteen more tons of silver. Alaric was also given thousands of silk garments and fleeces. Yet, the Visigoth king also wanted another luxurious commodity—Piper nigrum, better known as black pepper, which was perhaps the most demanded spice in the ancient and medieval world. Along with the other bribes sent in 408, the Romans were said to have scrounged together a whopping 3,000 pounds of black pepper to be sent to the Visigoths.

Despite the material bribes, Alaric never received his true goals from the years of negotiating with the Romans. He eventually lost his patience in 410 and sacked the city of Rome for three days. Not too long after, King Alaric died of illness and was buried by his forces somewhere in southern Italy.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (King Alaric in Athens, by Ludwig Thiersch, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Vanished Kingdoms: The Rise and Fall of States and Nations by Norman Davies. New York: Viking (Penguin Group), 2011. 
• Transnationalism in Ancient and Medieval Societies: The Role of Cross-Border Trade and Travel by Michael C. Howard. North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2012. 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Alaric/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Alaric 
• http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/enemiesrome_gallery_01.shtml  

The Impressive Defense Of Acarnania Against A Spartan-Led Coalition During The Peloponnesian War

Sometime between 429-428 BCE, the Peloponnesian League combined its forces to invade the region of Acarnania. Their target was wedged between Aetolia to the east and Epirus to the north, all of which was geographically north of the Peloponnesus. Acarnania was an ally of the Peloponnesian foe, Athens, and by conquering the coastal region, the Peloponnesians believed they could halt the dangerous Athenian naval raids that constantly threatened their shorelines.

Sparta, the leading state of the Peloponnesian League, was said by Thucydides (c. 460-400 BCE) to have contributed 1,000 of their feared hoplite infantry to the expedition. Numerous Spartan allies also contributed ships and soldiers to the coalition force. Thucydides mentioned that Corinth, Sicyon, Leucas, Anactorium and Ambracia contributed resources to the cause. They apparently joined forces with a large contingent from Epirus and Macedonia. Most notable of these were the Chaonians and Orestians, who brought 1,000 men each. Other members of this Epirote-Macedonian coalition were the Thesprotians, Molossians, Atintanians and Paravaeans. King Perdiccas of Macedonia, too, was supposedly going to join the expedition with 1,000 of his own troops, but he arrived too late to contribute to the campaign. Sparta placed a man named Cnemus in charge of this large military force.

The coalition entered Acarnania without much resistance and set out for the city of Stratus, the leading settlement in the region. The Acarnanians sent messengers to the nearby Athenian commander, Phormio, who was leading allied troops in the city of Naupactus. Unfortunately, Phormio responded that he could not leave Naupactus undefended while a Peloponnesian fleet was so near. Therefore, the Acarnanians would have to fight off their invaders alone.

In Acarnania, the Peloponnesians and their allies split into three divisions. The center division, which was the farthest forward, consisted of the troops from Epirus and Macedonia. To the left of center marched the allies of the Peloponnesians, men from Leucas and Anactorium. And on the right, Cnemus led the Spartan troops and other soldiers recruited directly from the Peloponnesus.

As can happen with divided forces, the three separate groups began to see themselves as rival parties in a competition to seize the city of Stratus—the center division full of men from Epirus and Macedonia was said to have been particularly enthralled by this idea. With little regard for discipline or coordination with the other wings of the invasion force, the center division charged toward the city, leaving behind the rest of the allied army. They planned to seize the city, and the glory, all by themselves. Unfortunately, Acarnanian scouts realized what was happening and the city of Stratus sent out troops to set up hidden ambush spots outside of their walls.

When the rogue division reached Stratus, the Acarnanians launched their attack. Thucydides wrote that the garrison inside the city poured out to meet the invaders while the ambushers simultaneously attacked the division from behind. The soldiers from Epirus and Macedonia were not suspecting such resistance from Stratus and fled in fear. Meanwhile, the other two divisions had no clue of what had happened. The rest of the army was only enlightened to the fate of the center division when scattered bands of soldiers sought refuge in the left and right wings of the invasion force. In light of the new circumstances, the invaders decided to combine their divisions back into one camp. Yet, the Acarnanians now had the momentum. The city of Stratus set up more ambushes and sent out slingers to launch a persistent stream of projectiles into the Peloponnesian camp.

The Acarnanian guerilla warfare was so effective that the Peloponnesians found that they could not move except when they were fully armored and alert. Even more alarming, they heard that Acarnanian reinforcements were heading to relieve the city of Stratus. Eventually, the invaders simply lost the will to continue their campaign. Cnemus carefully retreated his forces back to the river Anapus and escaped with his army through the friendly territory of the Oeniadae people. Then, the tired coalition disbanded and returned to their respective homelands.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Drawing of a Balearic slinger by Johnny Shumate (jjjshumate@earthlink.net), in front of a 1903 map of ancient Greece, both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book II) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.  

The Mysterious Disir Of Norse Religion

The Disir were important and powerful beings in the world of Norse mythology. Much about these creatures, however, remained undefined and could vary from one Scandinavian region to another. There were, however, some standard traits about the Disir that most Scandinavian communities agreed upon. For one, the Disir were always portrayed as female entities. Additionally, the medieval Swedes, Norwegians and Icelanders all believed the Disir were worthy of honorary sacrifices and feasts during the Winter Nights. In Norway and Iceland, this event was called dísablót (“sacrifice to the Disir”), and in Sweden it was called dísaping, or “Disir-Assembly.”

Generally, a Dís (singular of Disir) was seen as a powerful supernatural being that took a keen interest in families and estates. Their strength could vary greatly. Sometimes, they were described as mere guardian ancestor spirits, but their power could also inflate to that of minor local gods. The Disir would usually use their power for good—they acted as guardians to families and family farms, and sometimes even lent their protection to individual people. Yet, they did not love unconditionally and were known to take revenge against families or people who had not given proper sacrifice, or had otherwise angered their respective Dís.

Scholars have found similarities between the Disir and other forms of matron worship throughout Scandinavia, Germany and Britain. In Norse mythology, alone, the Disir seem closely tied to Valkyries and fetches, but the Disir seemed to have been the strongest of these female Norse mythological compatriots. In the end, the Disir remain a mysterious group of beings who, although they did not have a clear position in the hierarchy of the Norse gods, were seen as powerful spirits that deserved respect.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image of Sif commissioned by James Baldwin (c. 1897), in front of a depiction of a disablot by August Malmström, both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Egil's Saga (recorded c. 13th century, possibly by Snorri Sturluson), translated by Bernard Scudder. New York: Penguin Classics, 2004 edition. 
• https://norse-mythology.org/disir/ 
• http://www.dictionary.com/browse/disir 
• http://www.friggasweb.org/matrons.html  

The Suspicious Fall Of The Roman Noblewoman, Apronia

In the dark of night, sometime in the year 24, a noblewoman named Apronia fell to her death from a high window in the city of Rome. With her at the time was her husband, Plautius Silvanus, a praetor of Rome—a high government official ranked just under the consuls. When the body of Apronia was discovered, the authorities immediately suspected Silvanus. During his interview, he claimed to have been asleep during the incident and that his wife must have committed suicide.

The case was high profile enough that the ruler of Rome at the time, Emperor Tiberius (r. 14-37), was said to have gone in person to the scene of the crime. After conducting his own investigation of the premises, Tiberius concluded that there were signs of a violent struggle in the home. Convinced that a violent crime had been committed, Emperor Tiberius brought Plautius Silvanus before the Roman Senate to be tried for murder. The senators must not have believed Silvanus’ story, for the praetor’s own grandmother, Urgulania (a friend of Tiberius’ mother), had a dagger sent to Silvanus, giving him a not-too-subtle message telling him to either fight his way out of custody or to commit suicide. Sadly, Silvanus decided to follow the latter path and, after two attempts, managed to end his own life.

Yet, even after the prime suspect’s death, the investigation into Apronia’s murder remained active. Silvanus’ ex-wife, Numantina, was also tried for involvement in the murder. She was accused of using incantations and potions in order to induce madness in Silvanus, causing him to push his wife out of the window. Fortunately, she was eventually acquitted of all charges and was released, leaving all the blame on the deceased praetor.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture attribution: (The Death (defenestration) of Jezebel, by Gustave Doré (1832–1883), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996.