Honey of Trebizond
I wouldn't recommend putting this on your morning toast, but here is how to make honey of Trebizond.
Plant an entire field of deadly poisonous plants.
Introduce a bee nest.
Let the bees collect the pollen.
Collect the honeycomb.
The honeycomb and the honey will be toxic. This really works. How do we know that? Because it happened in real life.
Back in ancient times, toward the end of the Roman Republic, the great General Pompey led an army into Asia Minor where he faced the rather competent local ruler Mithridates. One of his detachments passed through Trebizond, or at least, they tried to. The locals knew that the honey thereabouts was poisonous, due to the large number of toxic rhododendrons in the area. But the Romans didn't know that. They ate the honeycomb and became ill. The locals immediately attacked and slaughtered the Romans.
Here's what it says in Strabo's Geography (from the Perseus version):
The Heptacomitae [those are the locals] cut down three maniples of Pompey's army when they were passing through the mountainous country; for they mixed bowls of the crazing honey which is yielded by the tree-twigs, and placed them in the roads, and then, when the soldiers drank the mixture and lost their senses, they attacked them and easily disposed of them.
Alas, if only they had paid attention to the classics. Three hundred and fifty years earlier, the famous mercenary captain Xenophon had written about his men falling ill after eating honeycomb in the same area.
Here's what Xenophon had to say:
Now for the most part there was nothing here which they really found strange; but the swarms of bees in the neighbourhood were numerous, and the soldiers who ate of the honey all went off their heads, and suffered from vomiting and diarrhoea, and not one of them could stand up, but those who had eaten a little were like people exceedingly drunk, while those who had eaten a great deal seemed like crazy, or even, in some cases, dying men. So they lay there in great numbers as though the army had suffered a defeat, and great despondency prevailed. On the next day, however, no one had died, and at approximately the same hour as they had eaten the honey they began to come to their senses; and on the third or fourth day they got up, as if from a drugging.
2 comments: Labels: FAIL, Gardening, History, Military
The catharsis of Delos
In classical times, it was illegal to die on the sacred isle of Delos. It was also illegal to give birth there.
Delos was the birthplace of two gods: Apollo and Artemis. That made the tiny island incredibly holy.
There had been a sacred sanctuary on Delos since Minoan times. There had also been a village of priests and priestesses who served the temples. The priestly village was on the coast right next to the sanctuary, which was natural enough. That made it a short walk to work.
But then some time around 540BC, something interesting happened. The Athenians, who supported Delos with gifts and supplies, took it into their heads to remove all the dead people from around the sanctuary. Nobody knows exactly why they decided to do this, but it's too weird to have been anything other than an oracle received, either from Delphi or maybe from Delos itself.
Either way, the Athenians turned up at Delos en masse. They dug up every body in the village cemetery and relocated the corpses to a new cemetery on the other side of the island. (This must have been fun.)
Then they dismantled the village and relocated it to the other side of the island too.
This was a catharsis. We use catharsis for plays and books, but the original meaning was ritual purification.
From that moment on, it seems, it was illegal to die or be born on Delos. Fortunately the much larger island of Mykonos was not far off, so if you felt one event or the other coming on, then you could be ferried off the island. For emergencies there was an even smaller islet called Rhenia, so close by you could almost wade there.
You're probably wondering what the penalty was for dying, and so am I. Presumably things couldn't get much worse for you anyway. Alas we'll never know.
But we're not done yet. In 426BC, the Athenians decided their ancestors of a hundred years ago hadn't done a good enough job. They returned to Delos, dug up the bodies from the new cemetery, and carried them off the island completely.
At that point there was not a single corpse left on the island (except for the two Hyperborean women), and this odd game of move-the-bodies ended. Delos remained ritually pure until after the death of Alexander, when people became less fussed about such things, and a thriving community moved in.
1 comment: Labels: History, Religion