Rome’s Greatest General

Posted on April 22, 2024 by Mustang

But first —

Roman naming conventions required men to have at least two names: the praenomen (first name/given name) and nomen (principal name/gens).  The nomen usually ended in—ius.  Many men had a third name, the cognomen (additional name, nickname, frequently a branch of a family).  The cognomen was an expression of personality.  Scaevola was Lefty.  Balus was someone with a lisp.  Cursor was, perhaps, “Speedy.”  An inherited cognomen, however, did not indicate a personal characteristic other than descent from the original holder of the name.  A second cognomen was possible, added to show a particular achievement.  P. Cornelius Scipio Africanus was the conqueror of Africa.

Also, an adjective name could identify a person who was adopted into another gens, indicating his family.  For example, P. Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus was the son of L. Aemilius Paullus; Scipio Aemilianus was born an Aemilius.  Some families were so large (and often favored by the same praenomen) that most men in the family soon acquired nicknames to be distinguished from each other, for example — the Metelli.  Many of these men were named Q. Caecilius Metellus.  They were easy to tell apart when called by their last two names: Metellus Numidicus was Q. Caecilius Metellus Numidicus (who fought successfully in Numidia); his son, Metellus Pius was Q. Caecilius Metellus Pius (called Pius because he was devoted to his father’s rights).

Very few individual names were common in Roman times. These were usually indicated by abbreviations on inscriptions and documents.  When pronouncing these names, it was proper to say the whole name rather than reciting the initial.  Some examples are A for Aulus, C. for Gaius, Cn.  for Gnaeus, L. for Lucius, M. for Marcus, P. for Publius, and Q. for Quintus.

A Savior of Rome

His name was Publius Cornelius Scipio.  He was born in 236 B.C.  His father was Publius Cornelius Scipio (I will refer to him as Scipio the Elder), and his mother was Pomponia.  The family was known as Corneli Scipiones, then one of the major patrician families prominent in Roman politics.

Note: In the Third Century B.C., the two main powers of the western Mediterranean were Carthage and Rome.  The Second Punic War (218 to 201 B.C.) was the second of three major wars between these ancient giants.  The second war lasted seventeen years as both states struggled for supremacy, primarily fighting in Italy and Iberia (present-day Spain and Portugal), but also on the islands of Sicily and Sardinia, and then, toward the end of the war, North Africa.

The Second Punic War began in the spring of 218 B.C. when Rome demanded that the Carthaginian general Hannibal withdraw from Saguntum (in Spain), and Hannibal refused.  That year, Scipio the Elder was a Consul of Rome and the general commanding all Roman forces.  Scipio the Younger joined his father in the campaign to stop Hannibal’s march to Italy.  During a short engagement of mounted troops, Scipio the Younger saved his father’s life when Carthaginian cavalry surrounded him.

Note: Roman historians were notorious for being storytellers rather than historians, so there is some question about whether Scipio the Younger saved his father or if one of his father’s slaves accomplished the act.  From now on, I will stay with the generally accepted account, whether or not proven factual.

Two years later, Scipio the Younger served as military tribute under his father-in-law, Lucius Aemillius Paullus. An army tribune (distinguished from a tribune of the people) was an officer of high rank placed below the legate (general) and above centurions.  Success as a military tribune was usually a stepping stone to the Roman Senate.

Scipio the Younger survived the disastrous Battle of Cannae, where his father-in-law was slain.  After the battle, Scipio the Younger rallied survivors at Canusium (Southern Italy).  When Scipio the Younger learned that Lucius Caecilius Metellus and other young nobles were making plans to abandon Rome and go overseas to serve as mercenaries, Scipio stormed into the meeting and forced all of them and the point of his sword to swear to Jupiter that they would never abandon Rome.  This may be one of the better stories told by Roman historians.

For the first seven years of the war, Scipio the Elder and Gnaeus Cornelius Scipio Calvus (the Elder’s brother) commanded all Roman armies in Spain.  Rome made some headway against its enemy when the Carthaginians were forced to reposition forces to deal with a revolt in Numidia.  Over these seven years, the brothers Scipio extended Roman control deep into Carthaginian territory.  But in 211 B.C., the brothers divided their forces to attack three separate Carthaginian armies.  This massive error cost the brothers their lives, and worse, they were defeated by Hasdrubal Barca, Mago Barca, and Hasdrubal Gisco.  The two Barca generals were brothers of Hannibal.

Initially, Gaius Claudius Nero was sent to contain the situation, but in 210 B.C., the Senate elected Scipio the Younger to take command.  It was an extraordinary decision because Scipio was young and had never held a command or consulship.  Nevertheless, he was granted imperium pro consule, taking command on his arrival in Spain in the autumn of 210 B.C., the first Roman officer to command an army without prior consular office.  He arrived in Spain at the head of 10,000 reinforcements, soon joined by Marcus Junius Silanus, who assumed over all command of Nero’s army.

Scipio’s first major campaign occurred in 209 B.C. when he besieged Carthago Nova (present-day Cartagena), a major enemy logistics hub and substantial strategic importance to the Carthaginians.  Scipio captured the city in this battle by sending a wading party across the lagoon to the city’s north gate when it reached low tide.  He informed his troops that he had a vision in which Neptune promised to aid him.  This “vision” was essential in developing a “Scipionic” legend around him and his family.

His rapid attack sent the soldiers and civilians into utter confusion.  Being unable to tell civilians from soldiers, Scipio ordered his men to kill everyone and help themselves to all the pillage and structures they found.  Whether Scipio intended to terrify the Spanish population into surrendering is unknown to me — but what is true is that Scipio’s men were highly efficient in their killing.  He then forced Mago to surrender.  Once Mago had done that, Scipio ordered his men to stop the bloodshed.  While he enslaved the city’s non-citizens, he offered amnesty to his hostages, offered them gifts, and promised them their safety and that of their families.  He offered the people their eventual freedom if they decided to align with Rome.

Scipio proved to be an intelligent and strategic thinker.  After the battle, several Spanish tribes defected to the Romans.  The following year, Scipio fought Hasdrubal north of the River Baetis.  Scipio was credited with the victory, but historians tell us the battle ended in a stalemate.  Hasdrubal escaped north with most of his army, crossed the Pyrenees, and headed toward Italy—arriving in 207 B.C. Hasdrubal Barca was defeated at the Battle of Metaurus; his army was destroyed, and the general was slain.

In 206 B.C., Hasdrubal was initially replaced by an aristocrat named Hanno — but here, we encounter a problem understanding which individual we’re talking about.  There were three, all of them calling themselves Hanno the Great.  Hanno I lived in the 4th century B.C., Hanno II in the 3rd century, and Hanno III in the 2nd century.  Professor B. H. Warmington (d. 2013) (Bristol University) suggested Hanno was a nickname — something not well-understood by Roman or Greek historians.  So, other historians decided to distinguish the three men with numerals.

Hanno III was a conservative politician at Carthage in the 2nd century B.C., known only to the Greek/Egyptian historian Appian. Some believe that Hanno II and Hanno III were the same man.   Modern historians suggest that Hanno III may never have existed.  In any case, Junius Silanus captured a certain Hanno in Celtiberia.

After Hasdrubal Barca’s defeat, Hasdrubal Mago and Hasdrubal Gisco (Barca’s son) arrived with two Carthaginian armies, ending any question about the Barcid family’s command in Iberia.  As Gisco retreated to Gades (modern-day Cadiz), Scipio’s brother seized Orongis before a decisive victory at the Battle of Ilipa (north of modern-day Seville), forcing the Carthaginians to withdraw from the Iberian peninsula.  When other Roman commanders captured other towns in Spain, the inhabitants committed mass suicide rather than fall under the authority of the Roman Republic.

During Scipio’s illness, rumors of his death caused a revolt by certain Spanish tribes — each of which was ruthlessly suppressed.

Scipio, meanwhile, crossed over into Africa to solicit the support of Syphax (the king of the Masaesyli (Berber) tribe of western Numidia (present-day Algeria), and then into western Iberia to seek the support of Massinissa, another Berber chieftain, who led a federation of tribes.  Syphax pledged his loyalty to Scipio but eventually joined with the Carthaginians.  Massinissa, however, joined with the Romans with a small contingent of men when Syphax expelled him from the kingdom.  Gades surrendered to the Romans.

Note: In 206 B.C., Scipio founded the town of Italica (6 miles northwest of Seville).  Italica was the birthplace of the emperors Trajan, Hadrian, and Theodosius I.  After a general victory across the Iberian peninsula, Scipio returned to Rome to stand for the consulship in 205 B.C., leaving Lucius Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius Manlius Acidinus in command of Iberia.  Returning to Rome late in the year, Scipio was denied a triumph because he had served in private service rather than being elected to a magistracy with imperium (full power).

Africa

Scipio was elected unanimously to the consulship of 205 B.C. amid widespread enthusiasm — he was just 31 years old and still technically too young to serve as consul.  When he entered the office, he demanded that the senate assign him the province of Africa — and if they refused, he threatened to take the matter to the citizens so that they might have a say.  Despite fierce opposition from Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus, the Senate bowed to this pressure, and he was assigned Sicily with permission to cross over into Africa if he wished.

Notwithstanding Rome’s history in Africa, which records a failed campaign in 255 B.C. (during the First Punic War), the Roman Senate refused to provide Scipio with additional troops.  This led Scipio to initiate a recruitment effort of volunteers from Rome and Sicily.  Livy tells us that within his year as Consul, Scipio raised 30 ships of war and 7,000 legionnaires.

In 205 B.C., Scipio crossed with his men into Africa and besieged Utica before withdrawing and pretending to negotiate with the Carthaginians during the winter period. During his “negotiations,” Scipio covertly mapped out his enemy’s camps and launched a night attack that destroyed them and killed a large number of enemy troops.  Roman and Carthaginian armies fought the Battle of the Great Plains in early 204 B.C.  After capturing Syphax of Numidia, he restored Massinissa to command the kingdom.

Carthage reacted to this defeat by recalling its generals, Hannibal and Mago, and launching its fleet against Scipio’s to cut off Rome’s main supply route.  Scipio was forced into a naval battle near Utica but was able to avert disaster, losing only sixty transport ships.  Scipio proposed another round of negotiations, and the Carthaginians eventually agreed to abandon all territorial claims in the Mediterranean and beyond, limit its rights in Africa, recognize the kingdom of Massinissa, give up all but twenty of its ships, and pay a war indemnity.

During negotiations, however, the Carthaginians were suffering from starvation, and in desperation, certain among them attacked a Roman food convoy.  The incident complicated the process of reaching a peace agreement and caused Scipio some problems within the Roman Senate.

Note: There were several attempts to remove Scipio from command, one of the consuls of 203 B.C. (Gnaeus Servilius Caepio) even attempted to substitute himself for Scipio — to claim credit for the final blow against Carthage.  The consuls of 202 B.C. coveted the African command for those same reasons.

After the attack on the food convoy, Scipio refused peace terms at a parley with Hannibal in 202 B.C.  Shortly after, with the support of Massinissa’s Numidian cavalry, the Battle of Zama was fought, resulting in an overwhelming Roman victory.  Carthage again sued for peace.

In 201 B.C., Scipio remained in Africa to conclude negotiations.  Carthage agreed to restore all captured goods and persons to the Romans, disarm all but ten triremes (ships), and they agreed to seek Rome’s permission before initiating any war.  The Carthaginians also confirmed Massinissa’s territory in Numidia and agreed to pay Rome 10,000 talents (roughly 3.8 billion U.S. dollars today) over fifty years.

Gnaeus Cornelius Lentulus, Rome’s Consul for 201 B.C., attempted to oppose the peace treaty so that he could continue the war in Scipio’s place.  However, the Senate did ratify the treaty, and the Second Punic War ended.

Scipio’s Triumph

On his return to Rome, Scipio was honored with a triumph over Hannibal, the Carthaginians, and Syphax, their ally.

Note: The Roman Triumph was a civil ceremony and religious rite held to publicly celebrate and sanctify the success of a military commander who had led Roman forces to victory in the service of the state or, in some historical traditions, one who had won a foreign war.

On the day of Scipio’s triumph, the general wore a laurel crown and an all-purple, gold-embroidered triumphal toga picta, regalia that identified him as near-divine or near-kingly.  In some accounts, his face was painted red, perhaps in imitation of Rome’s highest and most powerful god, Jupiter.  The general rode in a four-horse chariot through the streets of Rome in an unarmed procession with his army, captives, and the spoils of his war.

At Jupiter’s temple on the Capitoline Hill, he offered sacrifice and the tokens of his victory to Jupiter.  We know that in Rome’s Republican tradition, only the Senate could grant a triumph.  We do not know the origins or development of this honor.  Historians tell us that Republican morality required that the general conduct himself with dignified humility (as a mortal citizen who triumphed on behalf of Rome’s Senate, people, and gods).

Inevitably, Roman triumph offered the general extraordinary opportunities for self-publicity and its religious and military dimensions.  Most triumphal celebrations included various popular games and entertainments for the Roman masses (paid for by the people).

By this time, Scipio’s career reached far beyond his peers — even though he was still in his early thirties.  Upon his return to Rome, Scipio deposited 123,000 pounds of silver into the Roman treasury.  His popularity among the plebians was also astonishing – the Scipionic legend (mentioned earlier) later depicted him as a son of Jupiter and brought him much political success.  Roman history teaches us that nothing guaranteed enemies in Rome more than great success — something Julius Caesar never learned.  However, Scipio’s role in Roman politics remained traditional and firmly rooted in reality.

Conclusion

Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus was perhaps the greatest of Rome’s generals.  He was a man who had never lost a battle and had defeated the most dangerous enemy Rome had ever faced.  From his first combat experience, it was clear that the young boy was a skilled and courageous warrior and a talented commander.  He proved that over and over again.  Scipio broke Carthage’s power in Spain, obtaining for Rome its first territory outside Italy.  From the demoralized and scorned survivors of the Battle of Cannae, he made a well-disciplined and trained military that not only challenged the Carthaginians on their home ground but defeated their greatest war hero, Hannibal.

He was a general who never tasted defeat, a man adored by both the army and populace, and despite his popularity, a man who always remained humble and refused the temptation of personal ambitions.  Embittered by the ingratitude shown by Roman senators, men who never had seen the battlefield, Scipio retired from public life, spending the last years of his incredibly productive life in seclusion.  His fall from grace mirrored that of his nemesis and master, Hannibal.  And in a cruel twist of history, Scipio Africanus, the man who gave Rome its empire, is nowadays overshadowed by Hannibal, the man he defeated.

Livy passed down a story about a meeting between Scipio Africanus and Hannibal years after the Battle of Zama.  During their conversation, Scipio asked General Hannibal who he thought was the greatest general of all time.  Hannibal mentioned Alexander the Great as the first, Pyrrhus (Greece’s strongest general against Rome) as the second, and himself as the third.

Scipio laughed and asked Hannibal what he would say if he had defeated Scipio.  Hannibal was said to answer, “In that case, I should certainly put myself before Alexander and before Pyrrhus—in fact, before all other generals!” The tale is undoubtedly an invention since Livy lived two hundred years after Scipio, but modern historians claim that it perfectly depicts Rome’s greatest general.  Hannibal was a witty and intelligent man.  In praising himself, he subtly admitted Scipio’s greatness.  No matter how great General Hannibal had been, he was ultimately defeated by someone greater, or perhaps luckier, than him.

Posted in AFRICA, ANTIQUITY, EUROPE, HISTORY, MILITARY, Myths, RELIGION | 4 Comments

The Psychotic Emperor

Posted on April 15, 2024 by Mustang

Introduction

His birth name was Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, and he was born on August 31, A.D. 12.  He is better known by his nickname, Caligula.  He was the third of six surviving children of Germanicus Julius Caesar, a Roman general and politician, and Agrippina (the Elder).  Germanicus was a grandson of Mark Anthony, and his wife was the daughter of Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa and Julia (the Elder), which made her Caesar Augustus’s granddaughter.

Rome’s future emperor, Claudius, was Caligula’s paternal uncle.  Caligula has two older brothers (Nero Julius Caesar and Drusus Caesar) and three younger sisters (Agrippina the Younger, Julia Drusilla, and Julia Livilla).  The children and their mother accompanied Germanicus while he was on campaign.  When Gaius was two or three years old, his mother made a Roman legionnaire’s uniform, including small-sized army boots (called caligae).  His father’s men greatly enjoyed seeing the little boy strutting around in his uniform and calling him “Little Boots” or Caligula.  In later life, however, Gaius grew to dislike the nickname.

Germanicus was a greatly respected general and widespread among his troops and citizens of every class.  After a lingering illness, he died at Antioch, Syria, in A.D. 19, aged thirty-three years.  Germanicus was convinced that someone had poisoned him — which was always possible in ancient Rome.  Many believed that Germanicus had been killed by his uncle, the reigning emperor Tiberius — who saw him as a potential rival.

After his father’s death, Caligula lived with his mother, Agrippina.  Agrippina was a clever woman but possibly too smart for her own good.  She made no secret of her ambitions for herself and her sons, which led to strained relations with Emperor Tiberius.  Tiberius (not incorrectly) believed himself constantly threatened by treason, conspiracy, and political rivalry.  He forbade Agrippina from remarrying out of fear that it would serve her ambitions and introduce another threat to his throne.

Consequently, Tiberius banished Agrippina and her son Nero on charges of treason in A.D. 29.  An adolescent, Caligula was sent to live with his great-grandmother (Tiberius’ mother), Livia.  When Livia died, he was sent to live with his grandmother, Antonia Minor.  In the year A.D. 30, Tiberius had the Roman Senate declare Caligula’s brothers, Drusus and Nero, declared public enemies.  Drusus was imprisoned, and Nero was exiled.  Caligula and his three sisters remained in Italy as hostages of Tiberius, who kept them under close watch.

In A.D. 31 (at the age of 19), Caligula was remanded to Tiberius’s care at Villa Jovis on the island of Capri. He lived there for six years.  Historians describe Caligula as a first-rate orator who was well-informed, cultured, and intelligent at this time.  He was a natural actor and smart enough to realize he was in great danger.  He hid his resentment of Tiberius’s maltreatment of himself and his family, which probably saved his life.

As a young man, Caligula had been befriended by the Emperor’s Praetorian prefect, Naevius Sutorius Macro (21 B.C. – A.D. 38).  Macro had been involved in the downfall of his predecessor, Lucius Aelius Sejanus, a man who had become a trusted confidant of Tiberius.  Macro spoke well of Caligula to Tiberius, always trying to quell any ill-will or suspicion the Emperor had toward the young man.  Macro also saved Caligula’s life on several occasions.

Meanwhile, Caligula’s brother Nero died while in exile (A.D. 31), and his mother Agrippina and brother Drusus died while in prison (A.D. 33).  Caligula was married to Junia Claudilla Silanus, the daughter of an ally of Tiberius.  She and her newborn died while in childbirth the following year.

In A.D. 35, Tiberius named Caligula joint heir to his estate along with Tiberius Gemellus, his grandson.  Gemellus was seven years younger than Caligula but a viable candidate to succeed his grandfather to the throne.  By all accounts, Tiberius was in good health and likely to survive to his grandson’s majority.  Tiberius was genuinely fond of his grandson and feared for his safety should Caligula ever become Emperor — the shrewd Tiberius saw through Caligula’s warped personality.  Still, he also doubted his grandson’s capacity to rule.

By this time, Caligula was already cruel and vicious.  Tiberius indulged the young man’s taste for theatre, dance, and singing — and did so in the hope that such activities would soften his savage nature. 

At Capri, Caligula learned to conceal his psychotic personality.  Doing so probably saved his life — along with the assistance of Macro.  Many historians believe that given a little more time, Tiberius would have eliminated Caligula as a possible successor — but his timing was off.  He died before it could be done.  Caligula, who was virtually unknown to most and inexperienced in government and the day-to-day exercise of political power, became Emperor of Rome.

The new emperor

Tiberius died on March 16 A.D. 37, a day before the festival known as Liberalia.  There are conflicting reports of Tiberius’s death.  Some claim Caligula smothered him, assisted by Macro; others reported that he died a natural death.  Whatever the truth, Caligula was hailed by members of the Praetorian Guard.  He was the sole heir of Caesar’s household and, when ratified by the Roman Senate, was declared imperator.     

When he arrived in Rome on March 28, the Senate conferred the “right and power to decide on all affairs.”  Tiberius’s will named two heirs, but the Senate annulled the instrument on the basis that Tiberius was mentally incompetent and incapable of sound judgment.  Caligula continued to benefit from Macro’s role as his advisor.  Some months after succession, Caligula took up his first consulship.  Because of his youth, Caligula initially refused to accept the Father of the Fatherland title.

To legalize Caligula’s succession, the Senate was compelled to describe and define his role constitutionally, but the rites and sacrifices to the living genus of the emperor already acknowledged his constitutionally unlimited powers over his friends and enemies alike.  Each princeps was, in reality, a monarch who played the challenging role of primus inter pares (first among equals), not through policy exercise but through self-restraint, decorum, persuasion, and tact.  These personal qualities were in very short supply to Caligula during his reign.

Caligula’s father had been a superb diplomat and a skilled speaker.  Caligula demonstrated potential in these areas, but after becoming emperor, he discarded all pretenses and spoke his mind.  He was, as one might note, very un-politic.

Everyone loved Caligula, but only for one thing: he wasn’t Tiberius.  After his ascension to the throne, Rome celebrated for three months.  For another seven months, the people of Rome celebrated Caligula’s “Golden Age” — a time of great happiness and prosperity.

Even though the Senate set aside Tiberius’s will, Caligula honored many of its terms.  Each praetorian guard received a generous payment of 500 sesterces, which Caligula doubled and then took credit as an act of personal generosity.  He also paid bonuses to city troops and those stationed outside of Italy.  Additionally, every citizen of Rome was paid 150 sesterces; heads of household were paid double that.  The opening reign of Caligula was one of Rome’s greatest spending sprees.

To gain the Senate’s trust and confidence, Caligula publicly burned Tiberius’s secret papers, which outlined many of the Senate’s acts of villainy, betrayal, and treason.  Caligula claimed (falsely) that he had read none of these documents before burning them.

Stressing his descent from Augustus, Caligula went in person to retrieve the remains of his mother and brothers for interment in the Mausoleum of Augustus.  He granted political and priestly honors to his sisters and other family members (including Claudius, who had not been recognized as a member of the imperial household during Tiberius’ reign).  He also began work on a temple to Livia, the widow of Augustus.  Livia held the honorific title of Augusta while still alive and was eventually made a diva (goddess) of the Roman state under Claudius.  The temple had been promised during her lifetime but not constructed.  Claudius was made Caligula’s consular colleague in the new emperor’s first consulship.

Of course, Caligula eventually purged Tiberius’s supporters.  In A.D. 37, Caligula fell ill and hovered on the edge of death for quite some time, but he remained very popular, and citizens gathered at temples to pray for his recovery.  It was after his recovery that he began the purges.

One of the first to go was Gemellus, whom he had taken into his dynasty as a son.  Gemellus was forced to kill himself.  Tacitus, a historian, was eradicated for his submissive attitude.  After Gemellus’s death, Caligula named his brother-in-law Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, heir and married him to his sister Drusilla, who died within a year.

Conflict with the Senate

In A.D. 39, Caligula’s relationship with the Roman Senate deteriorated into outright hostility and confrontations, which involved public denunciations and trials for treason.  He accused them of servility, treachery, and hypocrisy for voting honors to Tiberius and Sejanus while they were alive and then rescinding those honors once they were dead.  

Caligula’s tirades exposed the idealized First Senator as an illusion and imposture.  When the senate convened the next day, they voted a thanksgiving to Caligula (as if to a monarch), expressing gratitude for allowing them to live when others had died.  Modern historians tell us that these actions illustrated Caligula’s intent to dominate the Senate and, through them, the State.  As emperor, Caligula came unraveled before everyone’s eyes.  As it happens, Caligula had not destroyed Tiberius’s records and notes of various senators — they came in handy.

After reviewing the records, Caligula decided that numerous senators discharged from Tiberius’ court hearings were, in fact, guilty of conspiracy against the emperor all along.  Tiberius’s treason trials had encouraged professional informers (delatores) (who were loathed by the populace).  Many accused had testified against each other — and Caligula’s family.  If they had acted against his family, then why not against Caligula himself?

New investigations were launched, and five senators, including the ruling consul, were found guilty and executed.  Others were publicly shamed and degraded.  In early September, Caligula dismissed the two suffect (interim) consuls, citing their inadequate, low-key celebration of his birthday (August 31) and their excessive attention to the anniversary of the Battle of Actium (September 2).  Actium was the last battle in a damaging civil war, which Caligula found no cause for celebration.  In response to the dismissal, one of the discharged consuls killed himself: Caligula may have suspected him of conspiracy.

Note: Lucius Cassius Dio was a Roman historian (and Senator) credited with publishing an eighty-volume set of Roman history in Greek.  The books cover 1,400 years, beginning with tales of Roman mythology and events through A.D. 229.  He was not alive during Caligula’s reign.

Through Cassius Dio, we learned of Caligula’s favorite horse, Incitatus (Swift or fast-moving).  Caligula proposed making his horse a consul of Rome and later a priest of his cult.  Note: Incitatus is sometimes used to denote a situation in which an incompetent person is promoted.  According to Anthony Barrett (author of Caligula: The Abuse of Power, London, 2015), the horse fiasco was one of Caligula’s many malicious insults directed at the Roman Senate.  The Roman historian Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus (known as Suetonius) tells the story as proof of Caligula’s insanity.  Modern historians argue that Suetonius may not have understood the “joke.”

Britannia

Caligula made a weak attempt to extend Roman rule into Britannia.  After forming two legions for an expedition to the British Isles, the plan was scrapped.  Ancient writings suggest two explanations.  First, Caligula lacked the courage to lead such an operation or was too far gone, mentally, to lead it.  The second offering could be related to the first: his legionnaires mutinied under his psychotic leadership.  In his writing, Suetonius recounts that Caligula, having moved his legions to the seashore, ordered his soldiers to collect seashells.  In any case, Caligula’s successor, Claudius, later achieved the conquest of Britain.

Judaea & Egypt

Caligula’s reign saw a dramatic increase in tensions between Judeans, Jews of the diaspora, and ethnic Greeks. Greeks and Jews had settled throughout the Roman Empire, and Judaea was ruled as a Roman client state. Jews and Greeks had settled in Egypt following the Macedonian Greeks’ conquest and remained there after Rome’s conquest.

Tensions between these communities were complex.  They involved the spread of Greek culture, Roman law, and the rights of Jews within the Roman Empire.  Of course, their differences in religious beliefs and practices were most evident.  For example, Alexandrian Greeks were regarded as citizens of Rome, while Alexandrian Jews were classified as settlers with no rights as citizens.  Greeks feared that official recognition of Jews as citizens would undermine their status within the Empire.

When Caligula became emperor, he appointed Herod Agrippa Governor of Batanaea and Trachonitis (present-day Jordan).  Caligula did not trust the Egyptian prefect Aulus Avilius Flaccus because Flaccus had been loyal to Tiberius and had conspired against Caligula’s mother.  Flaccus also had connections with Egyptian separatists.  

In A.D. 38, Caligula sent Agrippa to Alexandria unannounced to observe and report on Flaccus.  Agrippa was met with jeers from the predominantly Greek population, who viewed Agrippa as a king of the Jews.  While on Agrippa’s visit, a mob of Greeks broke into the Jewish synagogue to erect statues of Caligula — an act forbidden by Jewish religious law.  Flaccus responded by declaring all Jews as foreigners and aliens and expelled them from all but one of Alexandria’s five districts — where they were forced to live under dreadful conditions.  Caligula held Flaccus responsible for the disturbances and eventually had him executed.

Note: Herod Agrippa (also known as Marcus Julius Agrippa, Herod II) was the last Jewish king of Judea. He was Herod the Great’s grandson and Herod Agrippa II’s father, the last king of the Herodian dynasty.  Agrippa spent his childhood at the imperial court in Rome and became close friends with Claudius, Drusus, the son of Tiberius, and Caligula.  Herod Agrippa’s death is described in the New Testament, book of Acts 12: 20-23.

In A.D. 39, Herod Agrippa accused his uncle, Herod Antipas of Galilee and Perea, of planning a rebellion against Roman rule.  Herod Antipas confessed and was exiled by Caligula.  Herod Agrippa was rewarded for his loyalty with the territories of Herod Antipas.

In A.D. 40, Caligula announced to the Senate that he planned to leave Rome permanently, move to Alexandria, and rule from there as a divine monarch — a Roman Pharaoh.  In Roman law, wherever the Emperor went, that was the seat of Roman Imperial Power. 

Earlier, Caesar Augustus had made Egypt an Imperial Province under his direct control rather than that of the Roman Senate.  Egypt was the primary source of Italy’s grain supply, ruled and administered by members of the equestrian order who were directly responsible to the emperor.  Despite their high status, Roman Senators had no hold on Egypt.

Caligula’s Divinity

At the time of Tiberius’s death, he was despised by his subjects.  Upon elevation as Emperor, Caligula asked the Senate to approve his deification.  The Senate turned him down.  Caligula, with prudence, did not press the issue.  Instead, he gave Tiberius a magnificent funeral (at the public’s expense) with a wonderfully delivered eulogy.  In the first six months of his reign, he made a good impression by refusing costly honors (such as statues of himself) and, if not promising to share power with his Senate, giving that impression.

But all this changed early in his short reign, possibly following his near-mortal illness of late A.D. 37.  Caligula dressed himself in costumes to impersonate various Roman heroes and gods, from Dionysus to Apollo.  This behavior convinced most of Caligula’s observers that he was a few bubbles off plumb.  They might have been a bit harsh because earlier, when Caesar Augustus was made up to look like Apollo, no one considered him insane — just behaving in poor taste.

Dio tells us that Caligula impersonated the gods to seduce women but occasionally referred to himself as a divinity.  In public documents, he was also referred to as Jupiter.  Historians tell us that Caligula had a unique attraction to Jupiter.  But to Dr. Ittai Gradel (an expert on Roman religion and lecturer at the University of Copenhagen), Caligula’s performances as various deities prove no more than a proclivity for theatrical fancy dress and a desire to shock others.  As emperor, Caligula was also the chief high priest (pontifex maximus), one of Rome’s most powerful and influential “state” priests.

Note:  In ancient Rome, Pontifex Maximus was the chief high priest of the College of Pontiffs.  This was the most important position in the ancient Roman religion, open only to patricians until around 254 B.C., when plebians were admitted to the college.  Although it was the most powerful office in the Roman priesthood, the position was officially ranked fifth, behind the rex sacrorum (priest of the Senate).  Fast forwarding to the 15th century, Pontifex Maximus became the official title of the Roman Catholic Pope.

Promoting mortals to godlike status, based on their superior standing and perceived merits, was a well-established feature of Roman culture; a client could flatter their living patron as “Jupiter on earth” without fear of reprimand.  For example, in Lentulus’s own time, Cicero could protest the implications of Caesar’s divine honors while at the same time speaking to Publius Lentulus as both a parent and god to thank him for his help against the conspirator, Lucius Sergius Catiline (62 B.C.).

Caligula seems to have taken his religious duties very seriously. He found a replacement for Diana’s aged priest and reorganized the priests of Mars, yet he ploddingly insisted that it was improper for Jupiter’s leading priest to swear any oaths; he could not, for example, swear the imperial oath of loyalty.  Caligula wanted to take over the half-finished Temple of Apollo for his cult.  Seemingly, his statue was prepared, but when Pausanias visited the still-unfinished temple, he found the statue was of Apollo.

Note:  Pausanias (A.D. 110 – 180) was a Greek traveler and geographer.

Suetonius and Dio were the only historians to mention a temple dedicated to Caligula in Rome.  If such a temple had existed, it would have been located in the Palatine.  Earlier, Caesar Augustus linked the Temple of Castor and Pollux to his imperial residence on the Palatine, establishing an official priesthood of lesser magistrates.

Dio claims that Caligula positioned himself to receive adoration and that two temples were built for him to achieve it.  Divination was important to Caligula, as reflected by an embassy from Greece, which greeted him as the “new god Augustus.”  Cyzicus’s public inscription thanks him as  the “New Sun god.”  Egyptian provincial coinage shows Caligula sitting on a throne as Neos Helios.

The problem is that there is no confirmation of the existence of the temples.  Moreover, historians claim that if a temple did exist, Caligula would have built it himself.  For anyone wondering where he got his money, Caligula sold priesthoods to the wealthiest nobles for a per capita fee of 10 million sesterces.  We are led to believe that his priests included his wife, Caesonia, and his uncle, Claudius, who was bankrupted by the cost.

Note: Milonia Caesonia was Rome’s empress and Caligula’s fourth and last wife from their marriage in A.D. 39 until their assassination in A.D. 41.

Assassination

The day before Caligula was scheduled to depart for Alexandria, January 24, A.D. 41, Praetorian tribunes Cassius Chaerea and Cornelius Sabinus — both of whom died soon after.  The primary source of our understanding of this assassination is Josephus, who names many close to Caligula as co-conspirators.  Dio, with access to a senatorial version, named many others.  Modern historians opine that it is more likely that the conspiracy involved very few, and not all need to have been directly in touch with each other because the fewer who knew, the greater the chance of success.

Earlier attempts to murder Caligula floundered when conspirators faced the risk of betrayal.  The Senate was a disunited body of self-interested, wealthy, untrustworthy aristocrats who were mostly unwilling to risk their own lives.  They maintained a virtuous front.

Josephus presented Chaerea as a noble idealist deeply committed to Republican liberties. He was motivated by his resentment of Caligula’s routine of insults and mockery.  Suetonius confirms that Caligula insulted Chaerea, giving him nicknames such as Venus (owing to his weak and high-pitched voice).  Caligula also assigned him to do Caligula’s “wet work,” the torture and murder.

Chaerea, Sabinus (and others) accosted Caligula as he addressed an acting troupe.  The details of the assassination vary according to their sources, but all seem to agree that Chaerea was the first to knife Caligula.  The action occurred in a narrow space, offering little room for escape or rescue.  By the time Caligula’s Germanic guard could respond to the attack, Caligula was already dead.  Several of the emperor’s party died with him, including innocent senators and bystanders.  The murder only stopped when the guard took control.

According to Josephus, the Senate tried to use the assassination to restore the Republic. At least one senator thought it was an excellent opportunity for the Senate to seize power.  Some believe Senator Lucius Annius Vinicianus was the conspiracy’s main instigator.  Nevertheless, most citizens were shocked by the murder, finding no cause for celebration because they ended up losing the benefits of his rule.  Some Senators were brave enough to have claimed knowledge of the conspiracy as if they were heroes of the realm, but the wise politicians kept their own counsel.

After killing Caligula, the assassins sought out and murdered Caesonia and their daughter, Julia Drusilla.  They tried but were unable to reach his uncle, Claudius.  A soldier found Claudius hiding behind a curtain, took him to safety, and promptly nominated him to succeed Caligula.  The Senate, faced with the inevitable, named Claudius emperor.

The killing of Caligula had been extralegal, without due process of law, and those who carried it out had broken their loyalty oaths.  As Caligula’s replacement, Claudius could acknowledge his predecessor’s failings but could not be seen condoning his murder or finding fault with the principate as an institution.  He no doubt realized that the life of an emperor was cheap — and that there would always be someone in the shadows looking to take the throne.

Claudius appointed a new Praetorian prefect and ordered the execution of Chaerea, a tribune named Lupus, and all centurions involved in the assassination.  He allowed Sabinus to commit suicide.

Caligula’s name was removed from the official lists of oaths and dedications, and his statues and inscriptions were discreetly removed.  However, most of his statues had the heads recut to resemble Augustus or Claudius, or, in one case, Nero—who would suffer a similar fate.  Suetonius informed us that Caligula’s body was temporarily buried until it could be burned and interred by the remains of his sisters.

Was Caligula a psychopath?  According to modern scientists, his delusions of grandeur, paranoid episodes, and other strange behaviors seem to suggest that he suffered epileptic psychosis. 

Posted in ANTIQUITY, EUROPE, HISTORY, Myths, RELIGION | 7 Comments

The Gunfight of 1873

Posted on April 8, 2024 by Mustang

Jacksonville, Texas, began in 1847 as the town of Gum Creek.  A man named Jackson Smith built a home and blacksmith shop in the area and, in 1848, became the town’s postmaster.  Shortly afterward, Dr. William Jackson established a medical office near Smith’s shop.  When the townsite was laid out in 1850, locals named Jacksonville to honor these two men.

It was a cold and bitter day in November when the Robinson Circus arrived in Jacksonville, Texas.  It was an exciting time because the Robinson Circus was known worldwide.  This was a significant event for the Jacksonville community because, compared to such events today, the Robinson Circus was a massive production.[1]

One of the more famous Circus spectacles was entitled “Solomon and the Queen of Sheba.”  This colossal production had a cast of at least three hundred.  One hundred girls danced in the ballet alone, which initiated a parade of exotic animals: camels, lions, elephants, and tigers.  There were also trapeze artists, jugglers, and tightrope walkers.

Some residents of Jacksonville had been warming themselves in a local bar when the circus arrived, so they moseyed over to the circus site to watch all the activities.  Now, erecting massive-sized tents is a hefty undertaking, but locals were critical of these workers — and loud about it.  Whiskey has that effect on some people.  Acting like an ass is hard work, so the folks doing all the criticizing (and whiskey drinking) tired themselves out and took up a comfortable position in the circus ring.  This is where many of the performances were to take place, so when the unruly folks refused to move, the circus employees removed them forcibly.

After being tossed out of the circus, the local boys retired to the Two Brothers Bar.  As I said, it was a cold day, and whiskey makes you warm, so they drank a bit more whiskey and told other folks how badly the circus workers treated them.  A much larger crowd decided to make a formal complaint about these injustices, fingering the circus manager, whose name was DeVere.  A local judge issued a warrant for the manager’s arrest.  There was no shortage of whiskey-warmed deputies to execute the warrant. 

DeVere, fully appraised of events, went into hiding with the assistance of circus employees — so when the deputies came looking, he was nowhere to be found.  The circus owner feared that cooler heads would not prevail, so he ordered the circus packed up and taken to the railroad yard for loading.

However, the locals were waiting at the railroad yard and attempted to stop them from moving circus equipment.  They wanted justice, you see.  Well — one thing led to another, and the unpleasantness spired out of control.  As the loading of the circus wagons was taking place, a shot was fired.  The shot was so close to a circus employee that the gunpowder burned his face.  This set off a full-scale fight involving more shooting, fist fights, foul language, and more threats.

At some point, the circus employees had had enough of the abuse and chased the mob into Jacksonville’s business district (along present-day Commerce Street).  They barred the doors at the Two Brothers Bar, but the Circus folk were seething by this time.  They broke the doors, forcing the locals to run out the back door.

By this time, the fight was a full-scale riot, spilling down the street to the railroad yard.  One circus worker was stabbed in the back, and a resident discharged his shotgun at the circus men but missed and ended up shooting (and killing) a circus animal.  This senseless act prompted a circus working to pour coal oil on the front of a general store with promises to ignite it and burn down the entire town unless the local boys backed off.

Once the circus finally managed to get the circus equipment (and animals) loaded and pulled out of town, its next stop was Houston, Texas.  As the train pulled out of Jacksonville, local drunks fired their weapons at the departing freight cars, wounding a circus man in the hand.  Within a short time, the train had moved beyond the range of local firearms.

Endnotes:

[1] The Robinson Circus was a family-owned operation that lasted four generations (1807 to 1911).  In 1911, Robinson Circus became part of the American Circus Corporation, purchased by Ringling Brothers in 1929.  By this time, the Ringling Brothers included the Sells-Floto Circus, Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus, Robinson Circus, Sparks Circus, Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, and Al G. Barnes Circus. 

Posted in HISTORY, LONE STAR, OLD WEST, Texas | 3 Comments

Fort Boyard — Cannon Castle

Posted on April 1, 2024 by Mustang

The Cannon Castle is a fort located between the Île-d’Aix and the Île d’Oléron in the Pertuis d’Antioche straits on the west coast of France.  Lately, its only functional purpose has been to serve as a filming location for television game shows and as an example of extravagant foolishness.

The fort was first proposed in the 17th century by Louis XIV after the rise of the British Royal Navy and the concomitant buildup of French land and sea forces between 1661 and 1667.  The fortification was to form a line of defense (along with Fort Enet and Fort de la Rade) to protect Rochefort’s arsenal from British incursions.  Given the limited artillery range in the 17th century, the French coastline offered an unprotected gap between the fortifications at Aix and Oléron.  The idea was to place another fort on the Boyard bank, roughly midway between the other two, to close that gap.[1]

In 1692, French engineers began making plans for this new fort, but once it became clear how expensive it would be to construct it, the king’s chief military engineer, Sébastien Le Prestre, Lord Vauban, advised him to abandon the scheme.  However, after a successful British raid on Île-d’Aix in 1757, plans for a fort on Boyard bank were again proposed.  Once more, plans were developed and abandoned due to the massive logistical problems such a construction would entail.

Forty-three years later, Napoleon Bonaparte renewed the effort, assigning the project to Vice Admiral François Étienne de Rosily-Mesros and Armand Samuel de Marescot, who began working on the fortification design.  The village of Boyardville was constructed to accommodate workers and their families, and a port facility was established on the Ile d’Oléron.  The first challenge was establishing a plateau one hundred meters by fifty meters as the structure’s foundation.

After nine years of work, the project was suspended in 1809 but resumed in 1837 under King Louis-Philippe I when tensions with the British again escalated.  The fortification was completed in 1857, with sufficient room for a garrison of 250 men; however, by this time, the range of naval artillery had significantly increased — covering the hitherto unprotected gap and making the fort unnecessary. 

Between 1871 and 1913, Fort Boyard was briefly utilized as a military prison, but after its abandonment, the structure began to deteriorate and crumble into the sea.  In 1961, the fort was sold to the province of Rochelle in Nouvelle-Aquitaine and remained unattended until 1989, when a massive reconstruction effort began.  These new expenditures were to make the fort suitable for a televised game show. 

To allow access to the fort for work and other production crews, building a stationary access platform for berthing ships (the original pier had been long destroyed) became necessary.  Artillery platforms were restored in 1996, but since the fort remains exposed to the open sea, additional restoration work was necessary, and the structure continues to require maintenance and upkeep.  The original cost of the fort was (in 1800) ₣8.6 million — roughly equivalent to $454 million in 2010).

Hat tip: Bunkerville.

Endnotes:

[1] A cannonball shot from a 17th-century garrison culverin could hit a target 1.7 miles away, but at that range, accuracy would be, at best, random.

Posted in BRITAIN, EUROPE, France, HISTORY, MILITARY | 3 Comments

They Made the Wild West Wild

Posted on March 25, 2024 by Mustang

The Old West witnessed the rise and fall of several outlaw gangs between 1880 and 1912.  If there was a common denominator among these outlaw gangs, it was that they had no regard for average, hard-working citizens — the farmers, ranchers, store clerks, railroad men, wagon-makers, coopers, blacksmiths, or law enforcement officers.  They may have imagined that they were hurting rich people by robbing stagecoaches, express cars, banks, post offices, and general stores, but it simply wasn’t true.  The rich, people who owned railroad companies, banks, and stagecoach lines passed their losses along to their passengers — the people who could least afford to make up those losses.  American outlaws were never like Robin Hood; they were never heroes.

Outlaw gangs were bullies, murderers, and sometimes rapists.  They were extremely dangerous narcissistic psychopaths, men who had no compassion for others, and the innocent (law-abiding) folks stood little chance against them.  Their risks had nothing to do with daring or courage; it was mostly stupid, and they often placed innocent people at risk in their daring-do.

Over 50 well-known outlaw gangs operated in the American Southwest between 1830 and 1934.  They could have been more clever about what they called themselves.  Wild Bunch, Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch, Cochise County Cowboys, Soapy Smith Gang, Red Jack Gang, Hole in the Wall Gang, and the Sydney Ducks (for just a few). 

The outlaws were “daring,” but it wasn’t courage as much as stupidity.  In those days, people referred to outlaws as “cowboys,” which didn’t mean they were ranch hands.  It was a derogatory term suggesting that they were louts, hooligans, low-down drunks, gamblers, ne’re-do-wells, punks, and whoremongers.

Two gangs laid claim to the “Wild Bunch” moniker.  Butch Cassidy’s group operated in Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah.  Bill Doolin’s group traded in Arkansas, Kansas, and Oklahoma.  Some gangs change their names as often as a mother changes her baby’s diapers (and for the same reasons).  At first, the Dalton Gang (1890-92) changed to the Doolin-Dalton Gang (1892-95).  The James Gang became the James-Younger Gang.  Some were off-shoots of Civil War irregular (guerrilla) forces; others weren’t outlaw gangs at all — simply labeled as such because it was politically expedient, such as the Lincoln County Regulators, a duly constituted law enforcement mechanism.

Outlaws not only changed their gang’s names but also their own names.  Butch Cassidy was Robert Leroy Parker.  Folks called Henry Longabaugh “The Sundance Kid,” but he used several aliases, including Frank Smith, H. A. Brown, Harry A. Place (his mother’s maiden name), and Harry Long.  Bill Doolin also went by Will Barry, and his sidekicks went by such monikers as Bitter Creek Newcomb, Tulsa Jack Blake, and Dynamite Dick Clifton.  If they were trying to hide their identities, it didn’t seem to stop Old West lawmen from tracking them down. 

The gangsters had their women, too.  “Little Britches” and “Cattle Annie” were groupies of the Doolin Gang; Etta Place[1] was a companion of Longabaugh and Parker.  Ann and Josie Bassett comforted several of Cassidy’s Wild Bunch while ensconced at Robber’s Roost.  Maude Davis and Laura Bullion (Della Rose, Clara Hays, and Laura Casey) were also handy on cold winter nights.  When Bullion was arrested, she was masquerading as Nellie Rose.  She passed away in 1961, aged 85 years. 

When the outlaws weren’t breaking the law, they hid in places like “The Hole in the Wall” in Johnson County, Wyoming.  “Robber’s Roost” was a complex canyon structure in southeastern Utah.  The Doolin gang called themselves the Oklahombres.  When the law began to close in on Doolin, he had no place to hide or hold out, so he and another outlaw named “Little Dick” West[2] ran to New Mexico, where they remained for six or seven months.  Doolin, being no genius, returned to Kansas and had a rather abrupt encounter with Deputy US Marshal Heck Thomas on 15 January 1896.  Heck Thomas was one of The Guardsmen working out of Fort Smith, Arkansas, to clean up the Oklahoma Territory.  The other two bad-ass lawmen were Bill Tilghman and Chris Madsen.

Most of these “wild” characters met a violent end at a comparatively young age.  The Bolivian army supposedly killed Parker and Longabaugh, but there is no record of the event and no bodies to exhume for forensic research.  After US Marshal Evett Nix set his deputies on the Doolin Gang, they began falling like flies.

  • Sheriff Chalkey Beeson shot down Oliver Yantis on 29 November 1892.
  • Arkansas Tom Jones (Roy Daugherty) was arrested on 1 September 1893.  After being released from prison in 1910, Daugherty was killed in Joplin, Missouri, in 1924 by police detectives.
  • Bill Dalton was killed on 8 June 1894 by a Sheriff’s posse.
  • William “Tulsa Jack” Blake was killed on 4 April 1895 by Deputy US Marshals Will Banks and Isaac Prater.
  • George “Bitter Creek” Newcomb (a.k.a. The Slaughter Kid) and Charley Pierce were killed on 2 May 1895 by bounty hunters.
  • William F. “Little Bill” Raidler was shot and captured by Bill Tilghman on 6 September 1895.  He was paroled in 1903 and died the following year from complications of Bill Tilghman’s bullet.
  • George “Red Buck” Wightman was killed on 4 March 1896 by a Custer County Sheriff’s Posse.
  • Dan “Dynamite Dick” Clifton met his fate on 7 November 1897, killed by Chris Madsen.
  • Little Dick West was killed on 8 April 1898 by Chris Madsen.
  • Harvey Alexander Logan, known as Kid Curry, shot himself when he realized that he was surrounded by a Sheriff’s posse and irate ranchers who objected to Logan stealing their horses.
  • Tom Edward Ketchum (known as Black Jack Ketchum) was captured after a train robbery attempt, stood trial, and, on 26 April 1901, was executed by hanging.  He didn’t hang long, though.  As his body fell through the trap door, the rope decapitated him.
  • Sam Ketchum, Tom’s brother, was killed during a train robbery attempt on 11 July 1899.
  • George “Flat Nose” Curry was shot and killed by Grand County, Utah Sheriff Jesse Tyler on 17 April 1900.
  • William “News” Carver was shot and killed on 2 April 1901 by Sonora County Sheriff Lige Briant while Carver attempted to purchase pastries from a local bakery.

One outlaw escaped a violent end.  William Ellsworth Lay, known as Elzy Lay, who helped Cassidy create his Wild Bunch Gang, was responsible for train robberies and the murder of two New Mexico lawmen.  Captured on 16 August 1899, Lay was sentenced to life in prison.  After seven years, in recognition of his assistance in quelling a prison hostage situation, Lay received a pardon from New Mexico Governor Miguel Antonio Otero on 10 January 1906.  Lay eventually married Mary Calvert, and together, they moved to Southern California, where Lay supervised the construction of the All-American Canal in Riverside and Imperial Valley.  Elzy Lay died of natural causes on 10 November 1934 in Los Angeles, California.

Endnotes:

[1] From her photographs, Etta Place was an attractive woman.  Etta Place was not her real name, of course.  There’s not much we know about her with any certainty.  Scholars think her name might have been Ethel Bishop, Eunice Gray, or Madeline Wilson.  Etta is thought to have been a poor Spanish language pronunciation of Ethel.  Pinkerton detectives also believe she may have been Eva or Rita.  Her last name “Place” was taken from Longabaugh’s mother’s maiden name.  No one knows what happened to her after she left Bolivia.  Some say that Longabaugh took her to San Francisco, others think she returned to South America and married a wealthy rancher.

[2] I’m not sure what Mr. West was thinking when he chose his moniker.

Posted in FRONTIER, HISTORY, OLD WEST, OUTLAWS, THE LADIES | 3 Comments

The Dogs of War

Posted on March 18, 2024 by Mustang

Historical records show that the Egyptians, Greeks, Persians, Sarmatians, Baganda, Alans, Slavs, Britons, and Romans used war dogs.  Among Greco-Roman warriors, dogs served most often as sentries or on security patrols — though they were sometimes taken into battle.  The earliest use of war dogs in battle was by Alyattes of the ancient Anatolian kingdom of Lydia around 600 B.C.  The dogs used by the Lydians killed some invaders and routed others. 

During late antiquity, Attila the Hun was known to use large war dogs in his campaigns.  Over time, gifts of war dogs became common among European royalty during the Middle Ages.  Other nations used dogs dressed in armor to defend caravans or attack enemies.  In the Far East, the Vietnamese raised and employed over 100 hounds and employed them with shock infantry.  Frederick the Great used war dogs as messengers during the Seven Years’ War, and Napoleon used them during his campaigns.

The United States first used dogs for military purposes during the Seminole Wars.  They were also used during the Civil War to transmit messages and guard prisoners. General Grant recounted how Union soldiers killed packs of Southern bloodhounds because they had been trained to hunt down runaway slaves.  Dogs were also used as military mascots in World War I propaganda and recruiting posters.

Despite their prolonged use, no military in history has used war dogs as extensively or as effectively as the United States.  Historians tell us that military service dogs have served in combat alongside our soldiers from every major conflict since the birth of this nation, but they were not officially recognized until World War II.

Before the Second World War, dogs were mainly used as message carriers and sentries; nowadays, they’re trained to perform a wide range of highly specialized tasks, such as sniffing out bombs and drugs, tracking people, and even attacking human beings when necessary.  Currently, about 1,600 military service dogs are employed in the United States, a quarter of which are assigned to overseas locations.

Americans have used dogs for different purposes and missions, but the animals always meet the demands of their trained handler.  Many earlier roles for dogs in wartime are now obsolete, but the concept remains relevant to modern warfare.

Before being chosen for training, potential candidates for military service undergo a comprehensive assessment.  This evaluation results in a 50% cut — and on top of that, not all animals make it through training.  They must have a keen sense of smell, but they must also be free of physical impediments, motivated by a reward system, and attentive and responsive to human command.  Animals that, as puppies, exhibit some anxiety at having to bite a human are disqualified.  Corporal Nick Coroneos, USMC, and his Belgian Malinois Lloren are shown right.

The breeds most suitable for military service include:

  • German Shepherd
  • Doberman Pinchers
  • Labrador Retrievers
  • Dutch Shepherds
  • Belgian Malinois

For many years, 85% of military working dogs were purchased from breeders in Germany and the Netherlands — ostensibly because their dogs have been purposely bred for military service for hundreds of years.  The facts reflect otherwise.  Shepherds (German, Belgian, Dutch) were bred to herd sheep, not attack soldiers — an effort that began in the late 1800s.  In any case, selecting animals from Europe allowed Americans a greater choice of dogs with the ideal traits of aggressiveness vs. playfulness, tenacity vs. intelligence, and so forth.   

The costs to the U.S. Department of Defense for training a military working dog run approximately $150,000.  However, these animals possess a 98% accuracy in detecting bombs and illicit drugs.  Some would say their effectiveness far outweighs their costs.  Upon completing their training, the animals are ranked as noncommissioned officers, traditionally one step higher than their handler, to guard against animal mistreatment while in service.

More recently, however, the U.S. has collaborated with the American Kennel Association to breed animals for American military service.  Training these animals rests with personnel at Lackland Air Force Base in Texas, which provides service dogs to all branches of the Armed Forces.

The average career span for a military working dog is between 9 – 11 years.  Before 2000, military working dogs were considered “surplus equipment” and were euthanized or abandoned after their retirement.  Some estimates are that the U.S. Army left 4,000 military working dogs in Vietnam, with only around 200 making it back to the United States.  After 2000, Congress permitted dog handlers (and their families) to get the first choice of adopting their working dogs.  Today, their former handlers adopt 90% of retired working dogs.  When these adoptions aren’t possible, the animals are made available to law enforcement agencies and interested families.

See also: Another Kind of Hero.

Posted in ANTIQUITY, CIVIL WAR, COLONIAL PERIOD, EUROPE, HISTORY, MEDIEVAL PERIOD, MILITARY | 6 Comments

England’s Black Queen Wasn’t Black

Posted on March 11, 2024 by Mustang

Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (Sophia Charlotte, May 19, 1744 – November 17, 1818) was Queen of Great Britain and Ireland as the wife of King George III from their marriage on September 8, 1761 until she died in 1818.  The Acts of Union of 1800 unified Great Britain and Ireland into the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.  As King George’s wife, she was also Electress of Hanover until becoming Queen of Hanover on 12 October 1814.  Charlotte (for whom Charlotte, North Carolina is named, as well as Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, and Charlottesville, Virginia), was Britain’s longest-serving queen consort, serving 57 years and 70 days.

Charlotte was born into the ruling family of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, a duchy in northern Germany.  In 1760, the young and unmarried George III inherited the British throne.  As Charlotte was a minor German princess with no interest in politics, George considered her a suitable consort, and they were married in 1761.  In their marriage, the couple produced 15 children, 13 of whom survived to adulthood.  The children included two future British monarchs (George IV and William IV), as well as Charlotte, Princess Royal, who became Queen of Wurttemberg, and Prince Ernest Augustus, who became King of Hanover.

Queen Charlotte was a patron of the arts and an amateur botanist.  She introduced the Christmas Tree to Britain (not Queen Victoria’s Prince Albert, as is sometimes claimed) and the art and form of decorating a tree for a Christmas party for the children of Windsor in 1800.  Her husband’s work habits, and eventual mental illness caused her a great deal of distress.  Her friendship with Marie Antoinette and the effects of the French Revolution increased her unsteadiness.

When George III became increasingly unstable, her eldest son, George, was appointed Prince Regent in 1811.  Charlotte died in 1818 with her son George at her side.  King George III died a little more than a year later — and historians claim that it was unlikely that the King was even aware of his wife’s death.

Queen Charlotte’s “blackness” relates to her ancestor, Margarita de Castro y Sousa, a black person from the so-called black branch of the Portuguese royal house.  There are seven generations between Charlotte and Margarita (304 years approximately) — which means that it is unlikely that Charlotte had any negro attributes.  Indeed, paintings of Charlotte reflect a white woman, not a one-fifth (or less) mulatto person.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words … the portrait at right was painted by Johann Georg Ziesenis in 1761, the year Charlotte married George III of England.

No matter what the producers at Netflix say, Queen Charlotte was not a black chick.  She was not conspicuously African — and if the so-called black communities in the United Kingdom and the United States are rallying to the probabilities of a black English queen, they are going to be very disappointed because here’s what happened: While the real Charlotte was no blacker than I am, Netflix is portraying the queen as someone whom Whoopie Goldberg wishes she could produce. What will this do to the tens of thousands of hopeful back folks who dream of being related to a white member of European royalty?  Well, when they come to their senses, they’re going to be bummed out.

Cheer up, though.  There was a British Queen who befriended a black African person who looked exactly like an African. Her name was Aina, born in 1843 in Oke-Odan, an Egbado Yoruba village in West Africa, which had recently become independent from the Oyo Empire (present-day Southwestern Nigeria).

Tribal warfare in 1821 led to the disintegration by the 1830s, fragmenting Yorubaland into various small states.  In 1848, Oke-Odan was invaded and captured by the army of Dahomey.  Aina’s parents died during the attack, and survivors were sold into slavery.  After the British outlawed human bondage, King Ghezo fought against any attempt to curtail Dahomey’s exportation of slaves.  Ghezo, as it turns out, favored selling blacks into slavery and resolved to maintain his tribe’s legacy.

In July 1850, Captain Frederick E. Forbes of the Royal Navy arrived in West Africa on a British diplomatic mission, where he unsuccessfully attempted to negotiate with King Ghezo to end his participation in the Atlantic Slave trade.  As was customary, Captain Forbes and Ghezo exchanged gifts, but Ghezo clarified he would not stop the illegal trade in human beings.  It was a black thing, you see.

But the situation got worse in a hurry.  Captain Forbes then heard a scream and observed a group of Dahomans who were menacingly waving guns and carrying people in little baskets.  An interpreter informed Forbes that those he saw being taken in little baskets were going to be executed.

The ceremony was called the “Ek-onee-noo-ah-toh” or “watering of the graves.”  The people in the baskets were dressed in white garments, were to be slaughtered, and their blood dripped on the graves of high-ranking Dahomans.  Some of the intended victims had been held in captivity for over two years for this tradition.  They were being carried while their hands and feet were bound.  As the victims were dragged along, the Dahomans poked and jabbed them with knives and spears.  This is how Africans treated other Africans — and some would argue that it’s how American blacks treat other American blacks today. 

Captain Forbes watched in horror as a man from the basket tipped over to a pit, and the man viciously fell.  As he hit the ground, he was instantly attacked, and his head was cut off.  Forbes tried but failed to make King Ghezo stop the ritual.  Forbes offered him money, which prompted Ghezo to allow Forbes to bargain for some of the victims.  But the ceremony was an ancient one and could not be discontinued.

It was then that Captain Forbes noticed the girl, Aina.  She was so tiny and still as she was carried to the pit.  Forbes was appalled and could not comprehend how a king could ritually murder a child.  Ghezo had no problem with it.  The child was an enemy, and her blood would honor his ancestors.  Forbes assured Ghezo that Queen Victoria would never honor a king who would kill a child, so the king offered Aina as a gift to Queen Victoria.

Forbes estimated that King Ghezo enslaved Aina for two years.  Although her ancestry was unknown to him, Captain Forges concluded that owing to the markings on her face, she was highborn in African culture, so she had not been sold to slavers.

Initially, Captain Forbes renamed the child Sara Forbes Bonetta — after himself and his ship, HMS Bonetta.  And this is how she was presented to Queen Victoria in 1851.  Victoria proclaimed Sara her god-daughter and began calling her Sally.  Sally was married in 1861.  She and her husband raised three children, the first they named after Queen Victoria.  Sally died from tuberculosis in 1880. There was nothing phony about Salley.  I can’t imagine why Netflix wouldn’t be interested in telling her story — and they wouldn’t have to change actual history to make it interesting.      

Posted in AFRICA, BRITAIN, EUROPE, HISTORY, INDENTURE & SLAVERY, THE LADIES | 12 Comments

A day to remember the Alamo

Posted on March 6, 2024 by Mustang

That day was March 6, 1836 — a pivotal event in the Texas Revolution.  Following a thirteen-day siege, Mexican troops under President General Antonio López de Santa Anna ordered an all-out attack against the 185 Texian defenders of the Alamo, originally named Misión San Antonio de Valero.

The mission was secularized in 1793 and then abandoned.  In 1803, the mission became a fortress housing the Second Flying Company of San Carlos de Parras — a cavalry unit who, it is believed, gave the Alamo its secular name (Alamo meaning poplar trees). 

The late 1700s and early 1800s were a turbulent time for Mexico.  The people had long resented their treatment by the Spanish Crown, and in 1810, began a rebellion that would in another eleven years, result in Mexican independence and the birth of a new Republic.  It was also in 1821 when a Spanish citizen of Missouri named Moses Austin began to negotiate with the New Republic for permission to bring “well behaved” settlers to Texas from the United States.

These former Americans, as new citizens of Mexico, fully supported the Mexican Constitution of 1824 because it provided that Mexican states would be autonomous and sovereign states, as it was in the United States.  However, When Antonio López de Santa Anna became president, he urged the Congress to deprive the Mexican states of their autonomy and placed them under the centralized control of the Mexican government.  Numerous states rebelled, preferring to remain under the Constitution of 1824 — and President Santa Anna, who was also commander-in-chief of the armed forces, resolved that he would not countenance any rebellion.  Texas was the last province on Santa Anna’s list to citizens subjugate, but the Texians would not buckle under a totalitarian regime.

During the Texas Revolution, Mexican General Martin Perfecto de Cos surrendered the fort to the Texian Army (December 1835).  A relatively small number of soldiers then occupied the compound for several months.  The defenders of the Alamo, all volunteers, were destroyed during the Battle of the Alamo, in which El Presidente y General Antonio López de Santa Anna attacked the 185 defenders with 2,100 soldiers. Today, March 6, 2024, is the 188th anniversary of the fall of the Alamo.

I have been to the Alamo on several occasions — not once did I visit there without feeling the haunting presence of those brave young men.  In the 1960 film The Alamo, Dimitri Tiomkin collaborated with Paul Francis Webster to produce The Green Leaves of Summer.  It is a beautiful song.

Posted in HISTORY, LONE STAR, MILITARY, Texas | 13 Comments

Lincoln’s Tariff War ~ March 2, 1861

Posted on March 4, 2024 by Mustang

By Thomas DiLorenzo, February 1, 2024

When Charles Adams published his book For Good and Evil, A World History of Taxation, the most controversial chapter by far was whether tariffs caused the American War between the States. That chapter generated so much discussion and debate that Adams’s publisher urged him to turn it into an entire book, which he did in the form of When in the Course of Human Events: Arguing the Case for Southern Secession.

Many of the reviewers of this second book, so confident were they that slavery was the only possible reason for both Abraham Lincoln’s election to the presidency and the war itself, excoriated Adams for his analysis that the tariff issue was a significant cause of the war. (Adams recently told me in an email that after one presentation to a New York City audience, he felt lucky that “no one brought a rope.”)

My book, The Real Lincoln, has received much the same response about the tariff issue.  But there is overwhelming evidence that: 1) Lincoln, a failed one-term congressman, would never have been elected had it not been for his career-long devotion to protectionism; and 2) the 1861 Morrill tariff, which Lincoln was expected to enforce, was the event that triggered Lincoln’s [southern] invasion, which resulted in the death of hundreds of thousands of Americans.

A critical article that documents the role of protectionism in Lincoln’s ascendancy to the presidency is Columbia University historian Reinhard H. Luthin’s “Abraham Lincoln and the Tariff,” published in the July 1944 issue of The American Historical Review.  As I document in The Real Lincoln, the sixteenth president was one of the most ardent protectionists in American politics during the first half of the nineteenth century and had established a long record of supporting protectionism and protectionist candidates in the Whig Party.

In 1860, Pennsylvania was the acknowledged key to success in the presidential election.  It had the second-highest electoral votes. Pennsylvania Republicans let it be known that any candidate who wanted the state’s electoral votes must sign a high protectionist tariff to benefit the state’s steel and other manufacturing industries.  As Luthin writes, the Morrill tariff bill “was sponsored by the Republicans to attract votes in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.”

The most influential newspaper in Illinois at the time was the Chicago Press and Tribune under the editorship of Joseph Medill, who immediately recognized that his favorite son Lincoln had just the protectionist credentials that the Pennsylvanians wanted. He editorialized that Lincoln “was an old Clay Whig, is right on the tariff and on all other issues.  Is there any man who could suit Pennsylvania better?”

At the same time, a relative of Lincoln’s by marriage, Dr. Edward Wallace of Pennsylvania, sounded Lincoln out on the tariff by communicating to Lincoln through his brother, William Wallace.  On October 11, 1859, Lincoln wrote Dr. Edward Wallace: “My dear Sir: [Y]our brother, Dr. William S. Wallace, showed me a letter of yours, in which you kindly mention my name, inquire for my tariff view, and suggest the propriety of my writing a letter upon the subject.  I was an old Henry Clay Tariff Whig.  I made more speeches on that subject in the old days than any other.  I have not since changed my views” (emphasis added).  Lincoln was establishing his bona fide status as an ardent protectionist.

At the Republican National Convention in Chicago, the protectionist tariff was a key plank.  As Luthin writes, when the protectionist tariff plank was voted in, “The Pennsylvania and New Jersey delegations were terrific in their applause over the tariff resolution, and their hilarity was contagious, finally pervading the vast auditorium.”  Lincoln received “the support of almost the entire Pennsylvania delegation,” writes Luthin, “partly through the efforts of doctrinaire protectionists such as Morton McMichael . . . publisher of Philadelphia’s bible of protectionism, the North American newspaper.”

Returning victorious to his home of Springfield, Illinois, Lincoln attended a Republican Party rally that included “an immense wagon” bearing a gigantic sign reading “Protection for Home Industry.” Lincoln’s (and the Republican Party’s) economic guru, Pennsylvania steel industry publicist/lobbyist Henry C. Carey, declared that without a high protectionist tariff, “Mr. Lincoln’s administration will be dead before the day of inauguration.”

The U.S. House of Representatives had passed the Morrill tariff in the 1859-1860 session, and the Senate passed it on March 2, 1861, two days before Lincoln’s inauguration. President James Buchanan, a Pennsylvanian who owed much of his political success to Pennsylvania protectionists, signed it into law. The bill immediately raised the average tariff rate from about 15 percent (according to Frank Taussig in Tariff History of the United States) to 37.5 percent but with a greatly expanded list of covered items. The tax burden would about triple. Soon after, Taussig writes that a second tariff increase would increase the average rate to 47.06 percent.

So, Lincoln owed everything–his nomination and election–to Northern protectionists, especially the ones in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.  He was expected to be the enforcer of the Morrill tariff.  Understanding all too well that the South Carolina tariff nullifiers had foiled the last attempt to impose a draconian protectionist tariff on the nation by voting in political convention not to collect the 1828 “Tariff of Abominations,” Lincoln promised in his first inaugural address, a military invasion if the new, tripled tariff rate was not collected.

At the time, Taussig says, the import-dependent South was paying as much as 80 percent of the tariff while complaining bitterly that most of the revenues were being spent in the North.  The South was being plundered by the tax system and wanted no more of it.  Then along comes Lincoln and the Republicans, tripling (!) the rate of tariff taxation (before the war was an issue).  Lincoln then threw down the gauntlet in his first inaugural: “The power confided in me,” he said, “will be used to hold, occupy, and possess the property and places belonging to the government, and to collect the duties and imposts; but beyond what may be necessary for these objects, there will be no invasion–no using force against, or among the people anywhere” (emphasis added).

“We are going to make tax slaves out of you,” Lincoln was effectively saying, “and if you resist, there will be an invasion.” That was on March 4. Five weeks later, on April 12, Fort Sumter, a tariff collection point in Charleston Harbor, was bombarded by the Confederates.  No one was hurt or killed, and Lincoln later revealed that he manipulated the Confederates into firing the first shot, which helped generate war fever in the North.

With slavery, Lincoln was conciliatory.  In his first inaugural address, he said he had no intention of disturbing slavery, and he appealed to all his past speeches to any who may have doubted him.  He said it would be unconstitutional to do so even if he did.

But with the tariff, it was different.  He was not about to back down from the South Carolina tariff nullifiers, as Andrew Jackson had done, and was willing to launch an invasion that would ultimately cost the lives of 620,000 Americans to prove his point.  Lincoln’s economic guru, Henry C. Carey, was quite prescient when he wrote to Congressman Justin S. Morrill in mid-1860 that “Nothing less than a dictator is required for making a perfect tariff” (p. 614, “Abraham Lincoln and the Tariff“).

Notes:

  1. The Mises Institute published the preceding essay on May 6, 2002.
  2. Dr. Thomas DiLorenzo [ email] is president of the Mises Institute. He is a former professor of economics at Loyola University Maryland and a longtime member of the senior faculty of the Mises Institute. He is the author or co-author of eighteen books, including How Capitalism Saved America; Organized Crime: The Unvarnished Truth About Government, The Problem with Socialism, and The Politically-Incorrect Guide to Economics. 
  3. My reading informs me that Mr. Lincoln knew whoever fired the first shot would likely lose the war, however long it lasted.  This may explain why he did everything he could to prompt a southern state to make the first move.  The South Carolinians were entirely too hot-headed to maintain their.  The situation was not unlike that of FDR leading up to World War II.  He knew that to win the support of the American people for war, the Japanese would have to attack the United States, and so he goaded the Japanese into striking first.

Hat tip: The Tactical Hermit

Posted in CIVIL WAR, Government, HISTORY, POLITICIANS | 2 Comments

The Doc

Posted on February 26, 2024 by Mustang

There are 202,536 dentists in the United States today — roughly 61 dentists for every 100,000 citizens.  Of those, only one stands out: John Henry Holliday.  Historians tell us he was a gunslinger, a gambler, and a diseased sort.  Was he diseased?  Aye, he was that.  And he was a gambler.  But while he had the reputation of a gunslinger, some question whether it was true.

John Henry’s story is tragic but only one among many.  One year after graduating from dental school, he was diagnosed with what was then described as consumption.  He got it from his mother, Alice Jane McKey Holliday, who died in 1866.  That was also tragic.  Consumption is another way of saying tuberculosis.  And, since no one with an ounce of brains wants anyone with tuberculosis breathing in their face during a dental exam, Holliday could not practice dentistry.  This, too, was tragic because, in his short professional life, Holliday distinguished himself by offering suggestions about dental procedures and applications — published in professional journals and well received by his peers.  (Picture of John Henry Holliday c.1877 shown right.)

What does a dentist who was denied the opportunity to practice his profession do for a living?  In search of a more healthful environment, John Henry moved out west, where the arid climate was thought to facilitate recovery from the lung disease.  Out west, there was only so much for a dentist to do besides gambling, which John Henry had learned to do at an early age.  From all accounts, he was good at reading fellow gamblers’ faces and knowing when to fold ‘em.

“Doc” Holliday was a relatively small man.  He was sick and frail, of slight stature, and trying to survive in an environment where robust men ran the roost.  John Henry Holliday was no gunman.  He was a poor shot.  He was well-heeled, of course, but he was no master marksman.  What he was — was a great pretender, but this was necessary to his survival.  By making others think of him as a gunman, someone who carried three handguns and a stiletto knife, who (it was said) had killed 35 men, the false reputation guaranteed that other gunmen would leave him alone.  Wyatt Earp knew this about Holliday.  It was why he gave Holliday a shotgun just before the gunfight at O.K. Corral — even a blind man is deadly with a shotgun.

We also know that Doc Holliday was intensely loyal to his friends (the few who were worthy of the title) — and he never lacked courage.  Pluck and audacity were something he shared in common with Wyatt Earp.  During the fight at O.K. Corral, a fight that lasted for less than thirty seconds, thirty shots were exchanged.  During the fight, Virgil and Morgan Earp were hit; several bullets passed through Holliday’s long coat — and yet neither Wyatt nor Doc Holliday flinched during the gunplay.  Once Holliday had discharged his shotgun, he dropped it, pulled out his handguns, and continued the fight.  He didn’t hit anyone, but neither did he shy away from danger. 

Given Holliday’s relationship with the gunman, Johnny Ringo, a somewhat “in your face” exchange of threats and promises, some have suggested that John Henry had a death wish.  We can’t say if he did, but it would be plausible and understandable if he did.

So, how many men do we know for sure that Doc Holliday killed in his long career as a gunfighter and a gambler?  We know for sure he killed one man: Tom McLaury, who he shot at the O.K. Corral.  If true, we must conclude that John Henry “Doc” Holliday was many things, but a gunfighter wasn’t one of them.  He allegedly had a hand in the killing of Frank Stilwell and Florentino Cruz over in Tucson, but he was never charged with that crime, much less stand trial for it.

Huckleberry

The 1990s produced two of the most outstanding Westerns ever made.  In their order of airing, they were Unforgiven (1992) and Tombstone (1993).  None of the acting warranted an Academy Award (if that’s even important), but both stories told the story of plausible tragedies from the late 1800s.  What makes Western films so popular is that the entire experience of settling the West was a series of tragedies — and the American people, whose descendants they are, respond to such stories.

In both films, the acting was top-notch and memorable.  Whoever doesn’t enjoy a Clint Eastwood film shouldn’t be living in the United States anyway.  And the truth is that Tombstone has become a cult classic.  Val Kilmer starred in many films, but his performance as John “Doc” Holliday won us over for all time — and, in any case, as previously discussed, there may not have been a greater tragedy than the life of John Henry Holliday.

I appreciate the stories of the Old West — and have read as much as possible about the incident at Tombstone, Arizona.  It was an interesting (and dangerous) time to be alive.  Those of us who appreciate such stories are fascinated by the times.  Did Johnny Ringo commit suicide, or was he murdered?  The debate continues.  I prefer to think Holliday gave Ringo his comeuppance (as portrayed in the film), but the evidence suggests otherwise.  But let us not allow any facts to get in the way of a good myth.  Ringo was a psychopath, so suicide is certainly plausible.  Here’s another fact: Wyatt Earp was one gutsy fellow.  What I wouldn’t give to sit down and talk to that gentleman over a cold beer.

My British wife didn’t quite understand some of the dialogue in Tombstone.  She isn’t alone.  But from everything we know of the post-Reconstruction period, such terms as “You’ll be a daisy if you do” and “I’ll be your huckleberry” were terms actually used back then — and we are told, spoken by Doc Holliday.

In his memoirs, actor Val Kilmer said that in the film, he spoke the words written for him by Kevin Jarre.  I believe him.  Jarre, however, may have missed the actual phrase spoken in 1880.  Anyone who has been to Georgia (where Holliday was born and raised) appreciates the unique accents spoken there.  Val Kilmer, who did an excellent rendition of the Georgia accent, spoke these words: “I’ll be your huckleberry.”  The accent was perfect.  But, while that’s what Jarre wrote, is that what the original phrase was?    

In those days, a “huckle” was the handle affixed to a casket so that bearers could carry it to the grave site.  Huckle bearer makes perfect sense from the context of the relationships between Holliday and Ringo.  Now add the accent, and instead of “I’ll be your hucklebearer,” you come away with “I’ll be your huckleberry.” My British wife asked, “Okay, but what does this have to do with the phrase Huckleberry Friend in the song Moon River?  Bless her … the question was appropriate, but context is important.  She’d forgotten that in Mark Twain’s (Samuel Clemens’s) book, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, young Tom had a best friend named Huckleberry Finn.  We’ve all had friends like young Finn … and remember them all our lives.  Some of us (although only a few) become their hucklebearers many years later

Posted in CIVIL WAR, FRONTIER, HISTORY, Myths, OLD WEST, OUTLAWS, RECONSTRUCTION | 11 Comments