Friday, March 14, 2025

Dispelling Some Myths: “Those who are about to die salute you”

In an earlier post, we dispelled some of the popular myths surrounding gladiators in the Roman era. This time our focus is on a Latin phrase that is almost invariably included in TV shows and movies depicting the infamous Roman arena:

Avē Imperātor, moritūrī tē salūtant

(“Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you”)

The original Gladiator (2000) film, directed by Ridley Scott, included it twice. Firstly, by the fighters having entered the arena before they re-enact the Battle of Carthage in Rome’s Flavian Amphitheatre (Latin: Amphitheatrum Flavium), and secondly it is quoted by the former gladiator Tigris the Gaul (played by Sven-Ole Thorsen) who had been brought out of retirement to kill the film’s hero, Maximus (Russell Crowe) in the same location. Even though the author must confess he has the very same phrase printed on a tee-shirt that depicts two gladiators, there is little to no evidence it was routinely uttered in the arena.

Origin story  The phrase originates during an event on Lake Fucinus in AD 52 where, in the presence of Emperor Claudius, naumachiarii - captives and criminals – were to fight a mock naval encounter (naumachia, pl. naumachiae). In the world of the Roman emperors, the term naumachia referred to both the staging of naval battles as mass entertainment and the basin or building in which this took place. The phrase is first recorded in De vita Caesarum (“The Lives of the Caesars”) penned by Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus [1] who wrote:

...quín [Claudius] et émissúrus Fúcinum lacum naumachiam ante commísit. Sed cum próclámantibus naumachiáriís: "Have imperátor, moritúrí té salútant!" respondisset: "Aut nón," neque post hanc vócem quasi veniá datá quisquam dímicáre vellet, diú cúnctátus an omnés igní ferróque absúmeret, tandem é séde suá prósiluit ac per ambitum lacús nón sine foedá vacillátióne discurréns partim minandó partim adhortandó ad pugnam compulit. Hóc spectáculó classis Sicula et Rhodia concurrérunt, duodénárum trirémium singulae...

“Before allowing the waters to escape from Lake Fucinus, he [Claudius] arranged to have a sham sea-fight on it; but when the gladiators shouted, “Hail, Caesar, we who are about to die salute you!”, he replied, “Or not [Aut nón], as the case may be.” They took him up on this and refused to fight, insisting that his words amounted to a pardon. Claudius grew so angry that he was on the point of sending troops to massacre them or burn them all in their ships. However, he changed his mind, jumped from his seat and hobbled ridiculously down to the lakeside, threatened and coaxed the gladiators into battle. Twelve Rhodian triremes then engaged twelve Sicilian ones…” (Graves, 2007, 192-193)

Suetonius is not alone in recording the events of AD 52, however. He is one of three Roman historians all of whom were, notably, born after the fact. Not being actual eyewitnesses to the incident means we must accept at face value the accuracy of what the three men claim. Importantly, to our knowledge there are currently no surviving contemporary accounts from AD 52 to corroborate their story. Cautiously, therefore, we should bear in mind that all three versions of the events on Lake Fucinus are essentially hearsay but are the best we have with which to work.  With the caveats in mind, the first to mention the naumachia was Tacitus [2] who was writing from around AD 98 to AD 117 but crucially does not quote the phrase. Next is Suetonius, quoted above, who was probably writing around AD 121 some 69 years after the events he describes. The third author is Cassius Dio [3] who records the same incident and includes the phrase, but his account was written even later than Suetonius probably sometime between AD 200 and AD 222. It is also suspected that Dio may have copied Suetonius’ earlier work which, if true, does limit Dio’s usefulness as a corroborating source.

Naumachia  Public entertainments in the ancient Roman world varied from combat between just two gladiators to large-scale events that potentially involved the deaths of thousands of combatants. The naumachia (also called navalia proelia by the Romans) was one of the latter: a large-scale and bloody combat spectacular taking place on many ships and held in large lakes or flooded arenas. Those tasked with enacting these deadly naval battles were prisoners of war and criminals already condemned to die. Those selected were known as naumachiarii.

Unlike gladiatorial combats, naumachiae were not at all common. They almost exclusively only celebrated notable events. Gaius Julius Caesar, for example, celebrated his fourth victory to be honoured by triumph with an event involving 6,000 naumachiarii in the lesser Codeta, a marshy area by the River Tiber. Cassius Dio records two naumachiae that Emperor Titus staged during the inaugural games of the Flavian Amphitheatre in Rome, now popularly known as the Coliseum. One included 3,000 men re-enacting a battle between the Athenians and the Syracusans. Dio also reports that Titus’ brother Domitian held a naumachia in which “practically all the combatants and many of the spectators as well perished”.

Emperor Claudius’ naumachia celebrated the completion of a drainage work and agricultural land reclamation project at Lake Fucino, Italy's largest inland lake. Located in the Central Apennine mountain range about 80 km (50 miles) from Rome, this lake is 19 km (11 miles) long making it an ideal venue for a staged naval combat. According to Tacitus’ “The Annals of Imperial Rome”:

“A tunnel through the mountain between Lake Fucinus and the river Liris had now been completed. To enable a large crowd to see this impressive achievement, a naval battle was staged on the lake itself, like the exhibition given by Augustus on his artificial lake adjoining the Tiber, though his ships and combatants had been fewer. Claudius equipped nineteen thousand combatants, surrounding them with a circle of rafts to prevent their escape. Enough space in the middle, however, was left for energetic rowing, skilful steering, charging, and all the incidents of a sea-battle. On the rafts were stationed double companies of the Guard and other units, behind ramparts from which they could shoot catapults and stone-throwers. The rest of the lake was covered with the decked ships of the marines.

The coasts, the slopes, and the hill-tops were thronged like a theatre by innumerable spectators, who had come from the neighbouring towns and even from Rome itself – to see the show or pay respects to the emperor. Claudius presided in a splendid military cloak, with Agrippina in a mantle of cloth of gold. Though the fighters were criminals, they fought like brave men. After much blood-letting, they were spared extermination.” (Grant, 1996, 277)

In Michael Grant’s translation of Tacitus’ Annals, the supposed salutation is clearly not present and despite its popularisation in later times, the phrase is not recorded elsewhere in Roman history. Today historians question whether “Avē Imperātor, moritūrī tē salūtant” was ever heard in the many arenas across the Roman world. It seems far more likely that the phrase, as recorded by Suetonius and repeated by Cassius Dio, was an isolated appeal by desperate captives and criminals condemned to die. It was perhaps only noteworthy to these two Roman historians simply because, as a literary device, it set the conditions to explain the unusual mass reprieve granted by Emperor Claudius to the survivors. Bon appétit!

References:

Grant, M, (1956), “Tacitus: The Annals of Imperial Rome”, London: Penguin Classics (revised 1996).

Graves, R. (1957), “Suetonius: The Twelve Caesars”, “Divus Claudius”, London: Penguin Classics (revised 2007).

Endnotes:

1. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus (commonly referred to as Suetonius; c. AD 69-75 to after AD 130) was a Roman historian who wrote during the early Imperial era of the Roman Empire. His most important surviving work is De vita Caesarum (“The Lives of the Caesars”; commonly known in English as “The Twelve Caesars”) a set of biographies of twelve successive Roman rulers from Julius Caesar to Domitian.

2. Publius Cornelius Tacitus (c.  AD 56 – c.  AD 120) was a Roman historian and politician. Tacitus is widely regarded as one of the greatest Roman historians by modern scholars. The surviving portions of his two major works, the Annals (Latin: Annales) and the Histories (Latin: Historiae), examine the reigns of the emperors Tiberius, Claudius, Nero, and those who reigned in the Year of the Four Emperors (AD 69). Together these two works span the history of the Roman Empire from the death of Augustus in AD 14 to the death of Domitian in AD 96, although there are substantial gaps in what survives.

3. Lucius Cassius Dio (c. 165 – c. 235), also known as Dio Cassius, was a Roman historian and senator of maternal Greek origin. He published 80 volumes on the history of ancient Rome, beginning with the arrival of Aeneas in Italy. The volumes documented the subsequent founding of Rome in 753 BC, the formation of the Republic (509 BC), and the creation of the Empire (27 BC) up until AD 229, during the reign of Severus Alexander. Written in Ancient Greek over 22 years, Dio's work covers approximately 1,000 years of history.

Wednesday, March 05, 2025

About History: the Spear (Part Two)

Part One of this two-part series was a concise history of spears from their earliest origins to their eventual redundancy. The spear’s simplicity meant it was adopted by virtually all cultures and societies across the globe. Along with the club, knife, and axe, it is one of the earliest and most widespread tools ever developed by early humans. Even after the invention of other hunting weapons such as the bow and sling, the spear continued in use, either gripped in the hand or thrown as a missile. What is more, spears have also seen widespread use as weapons throughout human history. Wielded with either one or two hands, they have seen action in nearly every conflict up to the modern era where, even now, the spear’s descendent is the bayonet fixed to the muzzle of military rifles.

In this the second part we tackle a debate within re-enactment circles on how spears were wielded. More specifically, the focus is on the recreation of the fighting style of Classical Greek hoplites [1]. Sometime in the 8th- or 7th-century BC, a large, circular, bronze-faced shield (Ancient Greek: aspis, ἀσπίς; pl. aspides, ἀσπίδες) was widely adopted across Hellas, the Greek speaking world. This shield led to the introduction of a new close-order infantry formation called a phalanx (pl. phalanxes or phalanges). To fight in the phalanx (“line of battle” or “battle array”), ancient Greek hoplites equipped themselves with an aspis and a 2.1 m to 2.7 m (7–9 ft) long spear (Greek: doru or dory) featuring an iron head (aichme) and bronze butt-spike (sauroter).

There are essentially two competing theories on how such spears were wielded which for the sake of simplicity will be referred to as “overarm” or “underarm”. In both styles, and across much of history, the norm was to hold weapons in the right-hand with shields in the left. This is not to dismiss notions of people being left-hand dominant but simply that spear fighting formations typically relied on some form of “shield wall” to protect the spearmen [2], either from missiles or when in close contact with an enemy. To maintain a cohesive “wall” meant limiting any gaps appearing between shields as much as possible to prevent an opponent striking through an opening. Any spearman holding their shield in a different hand to that of his comrades creates a break in the shield wall. So, while running contrary to modern notions, it is generally accepted that left-handed men were obliged to train to use weapons in their less dominant hand. It is worth remembering, however, that like any rule it may not always hold true in all circumstances, times and places. History can be fickle.

Before proceeding further, it is worth defining or describing what is meant by “overarm” and “underarm”:

  • The overarm style has the spear held in the right hand at its point of balance, typically at or near the haft’s centre. As shown below left, the hand is supported at about head-height by a vertical forearm, with the elbow bent at 90 degrees leaving the upper arm parallel to the ground. The spearman’s right thumb is interior on the head-side of the spear, while the fingers curl over the top of the shaft.
  • In the underarm style the spear is also held in the right hand, as shown below right, with the thumb on the top of the haft and the spear typically held parallel to the ground at shoulder height. The fingers curl beneath the spear haft which rests along the underside of the forearm such that the butt-spike (sarouter) is beneath the right elbow. (Disclaimer: the spear pictured is an early version whose balance point is further forward than ideal allowing the bronze sarouter to project beyond the elbow. This is not the case when wielding a more accurate reproduction dory with a tapered haft and heavier butt-spike. This design moves the point of balance rearward and the sarouter is held as described above.)


Convention
  The author has been a member of the UK-based Hoplite Association [3] for some years, albeit not as actively as one would like. Regarding the topic at hand, the Association’s founding members insisted that the spear was held in an overarm grip; it is a convention that holds to this day. The substantiation for retaining this grip, however, seems based solely on the limited pictorial evidence that survives. Archaeology in this instance cannot help since recovering the component parts of a spear do not tell us how it was carried, in battle or otherwise. Likewise, the author is not aware of any contemporary written source that describes spear carriage in detail or definitively supports the overarm style. Where spears are shown held overarm, for example on the Chigi Vase pictured below, it appears mostly to be for dramatic effect and thus may not be wholly accurate. Besides, artistic licence is often employed where space to depict something is at a premium, the artist is unfamiliar with the subject, or they are interpreting something they have only been told about and have not witnessed first-hand. Thus, proof that Greek hoplites only ever used an overarm grip is inconclusive at best.

Painted pottery  The Chigi Vase is one of the earliest depictions of the hoplite phalanx but note that their spears are shown without butt-spikes and are angled downward. The individuals are clearly shown gripping their spears overarm, however, so it is reasonable to copy the evidence from this one image and recreate this fighting style. Moreover, there are numerous other illustrations on ceramic-wares depicting hoplites in combat gripping their spears overarm. Two such examples are shown below. Top right is on a black-figure amphora, while top left is an Attic red-figure Volute Krater [4] from the Getty Museum collection. There are many others, so many in fact that the argument for an overarm grip seems overwhelmingly compelling. Except, look closely at the other two images depicting “heroes fighting in the Trojan War” and they show hoplites gripping their spears underarm. The first example is on a black-figure vase dated to c. 540 BC (bottom left). The hoplite staring at the viewer is definitely using an underarm grip with his dory held at waist height. What is more, the man pictured to the first’s immediate left stabbing downward is also holding his spear underarm as evidenced by his hand and finger placement. And both fighters in the second example painted on an Attic amphora (bottom right) are gripping their spears underarm. What these other illustrations reveal is that there was no consensus amongst artists, and that this may reflect the reality of the time. So, the overarm theory is far from conclusively proved, especially when, from practical experience, the inherent weaknesses of the overarm grip become apparent.


Overarm style
  Using the overarm style results in the “reverse or icepick grip” often used in knife fighting and ideal for stabbing downward at an opponent. Indeed, body mechanics allows the fighter’s arm to rotate naturally about the shoulder and elbow to deliver a powerful strike. However, the natural inclination of the overarm grip results in the spear, counterweighted or not, to angle downward as shown in both the examples pictured and the author’s demonstration above. This is significant because spearmen would presumably desire and train to strike at an opponent’s thorax or their head, face or throat. In the former case of the thorax, a puncturing spear thrust to the chest or abdomen risks severe or fatal injury to vital organs - hence the prevalence of protective body armour even today. Using spears overarm, however, does play to the strength of the “icepick grip” as the thrust would naturally arc downward into the chest or abdomen. Nevertheless, evidence from helmets dedicated to Zeus at Olympia show clear signs of targeted attacks made to the head, face and throat. Of note, when wearing a reproduction ancient Greek helmet, it is quickly apparent that one’s eyes remain vulnerable. Attacks directed at the eyes threaten blinding or mortally wounding an opponent. Thrusts to the throat may puncture the windpipe (trachea) or severe a carotid artery both of which are essential to survival. So, strikes directed at the helmet would at least distract an opponent or cause them to react to protect their eyes and throat (duck or turn the head, or dodge backward). To successfully attack these vulnerable areas, however, requires the spear to be thrust straight forward and largely parallel to the ground. Yet to do so in the overarm grip forces the spearman to rotate his wrist backward. From experience this places an unnatural stress on the wrist bones and ligaments. Of course, one might argue that with prolonged training a spearman’s wrist and arm strength will improve thereby lessening the discomfort and increasing the chances of striking an opponent’s chest or head. Indeed, this is true, but thrusts delivered in the overarm style are still weaker and less accurate than the alternative – more of which later.

There are further limitations with the overarm style. Firstly, as can be observed in the author’s demonstration above, the forward movement of the hoplite’s spear arm can be restricted by the protective shield held in front of the body. The forearm can impact on the shield rim thereby reducing a dory’s reach. To overcome this, the hoplite might be tempted to rotate his shield to the left to clear the impediment or step forward, leading with the right foot, out of formation to increase his strike’s reach. The danger then is that the shield no longer provides as much protection leaving the spearman temporarily exposed. Whether briefly or not, this would be the opportunity an opponent would be waiting for to initiate a counterattack. An alternative solution is to extend the right-arm upward raising the spear to better clear the shield (pictured). As shown, this does expose the spearman’s vulnerable armpit to a counterthrust. Worse still, with a raised arm and spear it becomes easier to anticipate or see an attack coming. So, if a facing opponent (offset to the overarm user’s right) saw an attack coming, then said opponent would have an easy victim. The spearman who has stepped forward, out of formation, with his weight planted firmly on his front foot to deliver a powerful overarm thrust, would be less able to evade a counterattack to his exposed shield-less side.

As stated, the downward nature of an overarm thrust favours strikes to the head and abdomen, but can the same be said of legs and feet? Considering the thighs first, instances of bronze thigh protectors are known from the archaeological record, but these were not fashionable for very long. Instead, like the thorax, thighs were, by and large, protected by the spearman’s shield. Not so the lower legs, however. A characteristic part of the hoplite panoply, the primary purpose of greaves (Ancient Greek: κνημίδες, knēmidas) was to protect the tibia, or shinbone, from harm as each bone is very close to the skin and thus extremely vulnerable to just about any kind of attack. A successful wounding to the shin may result in the leg being rendered useless, greatly hampering the ability to manoeuvre. The widespread adoption of greaves in the ancient world therefore strongly suggests that shins were a common target. The typical set of greaves consisted of a metal exterior sheathing the lower leg from the knee downward together with an inner padding of felt. The padding was particularly important because without it any blow would transfer directly from the metal plating to the shin. The example pictured, a greave from Thrace (modern Romania), has holes piercing the edges of the metal presumably for the attachment of said padding. While the lower leg seems to have been a common target, the same cannot be said of feet. Using the overarm grip has revealed that feet are by and large out of reach and strikes aimed at them are far more difficult to deliver effectively. Similarly, thrusts at waist height are challenging and, with the spear point still arcing downwards, are more likely to glance off the opponent’s shield.

Keeping your opponent at bay  Any spear lacking a heavy butt-spike or sarouter to counter the weight of the haft and spearhead will typically have a balance point at or near the centre of the haft. All the contemporary examples pictured so far appear to be missing a counterweight. In effect this means half the length of the spear is redundant as it merely serves to counterbalance the front half. By gripping the haft at the balance point, the length of spear projecting forward and threatening an opponent is much reduced. Yet, this seems contrary to the whole idea of employing a spear to keep your enemy at a distance where he cannot close to strike with a club, sword or similar weapon. Practical experiments quickly reveal that no one has the strength to realistically keep an opponent at bay by holding a lengthy spear horizontally, overarm, by one end. The stress on the wrist is immense. Similarly, while it might just be possible to hold a spear at one end in an underarm grip, this is still not a practical fighting style as it is exceptionally tiring, and the accuracy of thrusts are highly compromised. In simple terms, if held overarm a sarouter-less eight-foot spear is effectively reduced to a four-foot spear. So, if two formations of spearmen clashed, one using spears underarm, the other overarm, then the latter would be disadvantaged and outranged. The Greek hoplite’s spear had a counterweight for very practical reasons.

Body mechanics  As we have discussed, the hoplite dory was a relatively long spear at 2.1 m to 2.7 m (7–9 ft). To improve its effective reach, the spear’s length and its bronze or iron spearhead were counter-balanced by a weighty butt-spike (sarouter) at the other end. This allows the point of balance to be shifted rearward thereby increasing the amount of spear projecting beyond the hoplite’s shield. In both demonstrations pictured above, the author’s hand is visibly rearward of the centre point of the dory haft. Yet ironically this leads to another problem exacerbated by the overarm grip. To close with a spearman, a swordsman, for example, must parry and deflect his opponent’s spearhead aside and rush forward to close with his foe. In contrast, the spearman must resist deflecting strikes or quickly realign his spear to threaten the opponent if it is knocked to one side. In sparring it becomes clear that the overarm grip does not make this at all easy. As the hoplite’s dory is deflected sideways, then the counterweight acts against the spearman. The forward length of the spear behaves as an extended lever that twists and applies rotational stress on the spearman’s wrist, while the swinging counterweighted end pivoting about the right hand exaggerates the effect. The spearman must work much harder to contest such parries or attacks but once again the body’s own mechanics lessen his ability to do so. Wielding a spear overarm will not leave the wrist and forearm ideally aligned to resist the rotational forces involved and thus the grip is much weaker.

Underarm style  Using an underarm grip allows the spear to be braced along the spearman’s forearm. Almost immediately this offers far more control of the spearhead and strengthens the spearman’s ability to parry strikes intended to deflect his spear. Conversely, spears held underarm are very effective for raking the enemy’s spears aside. Longer spears braced firmly in this manner also means parries can be performed further from the spearman, keeping an opponent at greater distance, and the additional reach allows each man to guard a larger volume of space. Even if knocked aside, a spear braced underarm can be recovered much more quickly. Thus, each man in a formation can protect not only himself, but his neighbours thereby improving group cohesion and resilience.

As described above and as demonstrated, the underarm grip typically has the spear held parallel to the ground at shoulder height. This position has three distinct advantages:

1. The spear can be thrust directly at the opponent over the rim of the hoplite’s circular shield. Driven from shoulder height permits strikes to be delivered with greater force by using the arm, shoulder and back muscles in a more natural boxing-style punch. Once again, the body’s mechanics are being employed more efficiently and to greater effect.

2. There is no limitation from where on the right-side of the shield rim a strike can be initiated. The underarm grip allows spears to be held at a “low port” (see right) such that strikes to the opponent’s lower body and legs are an option.

3. If a thrust over an opponent’s shield is wanted, this can be delivered from a “high port”. By raising the right arm above head height while still retaining the underarm grip allows the spearman’s shoulder to rotate naturally forward in an arc to deliver forceful, downward thrusts.

Employing the underarm grip, allows spearman greater range of movement and the freedom to thrust downwards at his opponent’s feet or upward at his face. The strongest thrust he can deliver is at shoulder height, but the spearman can disguise his intentions easily and quickly change the point of attack to waist height or lower. Throughout he does not have to move his shield out of a robust defensive position.

With due regard to the disclaimer above, when wielding a more accurate reproduction dory (with a tapered haft and heavier butt-spike), the point of balance moves further rearward than pictured. The underarm grip allows the butt-spike, the sarouter on the hoplite’s dory, to be better controlled and tucked beneath the elbow where it will not threaten or harm those in the ranks behind. In contrast, anyone standing behind a spearman employing the overarm style of grip will be faced with a butt-spike punching forward and, more worryingly, backward at every thrust. What is more, the risk of being hit is further increased if the spear in front is deflected unpredictably sideways by an opponent.

There are further advantages to the underarm grip. Firstly, unlike the alternative, held underarm the spear is grasped in a more natural way, close to the body, and is thus far less tiring to wield. During a lull in battle, the spearhead can even be lowered and rested on the ground to reduce fatigue. When needed, it can be rapidly redeployed. Secondly, the underarm grip enables the spearman to jab or prod with his spear. While this does not sound particularly aggressive, jabs or prods are very useful. For example, by prodding an opponent’s shield off-centre, towards an edge, the shield might be turned or rotated slightly creating an opening in the enemy’s defence for strike to be made. Jabbing at his shield not only acts to occupy the opponent’s attention but forces him to repeatedly parry these harassing attacks until, perhaps, a mistake is made and an opening presents itself for a quick wounding or killing thrust.

Powerful strikes  Experiments conducted by Christopher Matthew, the author of “A Storm of Spears”, revealed that “attacks from the low posture [underarm style] were the least taxing on the muscles of the arm” (Matthew, 2012, 122). Moreover, strikes using the underarm grip simply involved swinging the arm forward to impact a target, with the power delivered from the rotation of the shoulder that meant the arm muscles did not tire so quickly. Participants found that fatigue was further reduced if they “rolled the wrist”. As Matthew writes:

“Underarm strikes can be performed by beginning with the hand beneath the spear with the shaft cradled in the palm. As the strike is made the arm and hand can be rotated anticlockwise as the arm extends so that the strike finishes with the hand on top of the spear with the palm facing down” (Matthew, 2012, 123).

“Rolling the wrist” is a technique used by boxers to align the muscles of the forearm and the tendons of the wrist to deliver powerful punches. By contrast, using an overarm grip significantly increased the fatigue experienced by the test participants. Most found “merely holding the weapon aloft, without any thrusting motion, could only be endured for a few minutes before the first signs of muscular fatigue began to manifest themselves” (Matthew, 2012, 124). Remember that to change position from the carry to the overarm grip would require the hoplite to adopt this posture before the phalanx began to advance or charge. Consequently, his arm would have already begun to experience muscular fatigue, reducing his ability to fight, before the two opposing sides clashed. Moreover, the awkward and unnatural flexing of the wrist meant that thrusts slowed and the power behind them diminished as fatigue set in.

As well as endurance, the accuracy of strikes was tested. When in the “ready” position spears in both the underarm and overarm grips point toward the general region of an opponent’s throat, this being determined as the favoured “kill shot”. It was ascertained that for an overarm strike to be effective the spearman had to stand close enough to the intended target to counter the downward curving trajectory of the spear. In contrast, “the stronger supportive grip of the underarm stance, its flat trajectory and the axis of the head, which visually aligns the spear to its target, allowed for attacks…to be delivered with a greater level of accuracy from a greater distance” (Matthew, 2012, 126). Indeed, the results revealed the underarm style of fighting to be more accurate over a longer period with over 83% of strikes hitting within the target. Matthew’s tests provide demonstrable and repeatable evidence that the underarm style of spear wielding is more efficient, less tiring and as far as hitting an intended target, much more accurate. 

Spear carriage  Attention so far has been lavished on fighting with a dory, but what of the more mundane carriage of one. What to do with a spear when not in use, on the march, or when manoeuvring on the battlefield but not in contact. The hoplite pictured is at rest. His helmet is pushed back for comfort revealing his face and permitting him to better observe his surroundings, perhaps take on some water and cool down on a hot, dusty Greek plain. Note that the supporting hand grips the haft with the right-hand thumb uppermost and on body-side of the spear thus forming a natural fist. Moreover, as well as counterbalancing the spearhead the sarouter can be driven into the earth such that the spear stands vertically without needing to be constantly held. When it becomes necessary to move, the hoplite therefore has two hands free with which to pick up his shield and set it in position on the left arm. To recover the spear, the hoplite need only squat slightly, grasp the haft at or near the point of balance, straighten and rest the spear at angle on his right shoulder. The shallow angle and elevated position limit the chances of the hoplite in front being clipped in the calf or ankle by the sarouter of the man behind. Marching any distance with the spear canted in this manner is easy and not at all tiring. This characteristic way of carrying spears is shown on “Warrior Vase” (below left), dated to the 13th-century BC, found during Heinrich Schlieman’s excavations of ancient Mycenae.


Interestingly, the re-enactors in both the Hoplite Association and the Roman Military Research Society - the author being one – have adopted a slightly different carrying method for their spears and javelins (dory or hasta and pilum respectively). To recover the spear from the “at rest” position, where the spear’s (or pilum’s) butt-spike is grounded, the hoplite once again squats slightly to grasp the haft, with the thumb of the right-hand close to the body and pointing toward the ground, at or near the point of balance. As the hoplite straightens the spear rests naturally in the cruck of the arm and angled over the right shoulder. Once more the shallow angle and elevated position limit the chances of injuring the hoplite in front. Carriage in this manner allows the spear to carried comfortably on the march as shown (above right). However, to be deployed into a battle ready position requires the hoplite to halt so that the spear can be allowed to slip through his righthand, in a controlled manner, until the sarouter contacts the ground.

Ready to fight  It is when readying for battle that the two competing styles are noticeably different. As one can see from the picture of the hoplite at rest (above), it is quite natural to hold the haft in a fist-like grip such that the right thumb is uppermost and close to the body. To achieve the underarm presentation simply requires the hoplite to rotate his spearpoint forward and downward to a battle ready posture either at shoulder- or waist-height. To assume the overarm style however requires the hoplite to reverse his grip. Temporarily the hand must leave the haft, the forearm rotated outward - into a somewhat uncomfortable, twisted position - until the right hand can grip the haft once more. With the thumb now on the outside of the haft the spear may be raised by rotating the arm backward and then upward into the overarm position. Try it and you will find the motion is clumsy and feels wholly unnatural. One cannot help questioning whether this is indeed how ancient Greek hoplites executed the movement. Moreover, readying spears into the overarm grip cannot easily be competed when moving necessitating the phalanx to halt, ready spears and then continue the advance to contact. In doing so, however, it quickly becomes apparent that “holding a spear in the overhead position for a prolonged period of time, even without the actions of combat, is extremely taxing on the muscles of the arm” (Matthew, 2012, 62).

Other tactics  One defence against cavalry is for a stationary phalanx to present a hedge of spears angled at the horse’s chest or head. Similarly, as pictured, a defence against archers is to kneel behind the large aspis which is angled to protect the body, especially the legs and feet. Having been shot at while in this formation, the author can confirm its effectiveness while recognising that in doing so the phalanx is pinned in place, unable to advance to threaten the enemy or indeed retire from danger. Adopting either formation requires the sarouter to be firmly planted in the ground and the spear lowered forward. The underarm style makes this a simple proposition. From the fighting position the spearpoint need only be raised and the sarouter lowered as described above for standing at rest. Conversely, the overarm style places the hand in completely the wrong orientation to change the position of the spear. To ground the sarouter necessitates a reversal of the arm movements and handhold just described - again an awkward manoeuvre.

A conclusion?  Undoubtedly arguments championing the underarm fighting style in hoplite warfare will be resisted by those favouring the “traditional” view. Spears were used overarm, they will claim, because firstly that is how they are depicted on contemporary painted ceramicware and, secondly, there is no evidence in surviving ancient textual sources for the underarm style. Yet, it is hoped that the discussion above may persuade some that an underarm grip has far more advantages. The spear, especially the long hoplite dory, can be held more firmly in a grip that is more natural and works with the body’s mechanics rather than against. This alone lessens the stress on arms and wrists and, importantly, reduces muscle fatigue, all the while increasing endurance. The underarm grip controls a spear far better than the alternative, enabling forceful, resistant parries and more accurate and powerful thrusts delivered on target.

And finally, if still in need of convincing, try wielding a long pole, perhaps a curtain pole, in both the “traditional” overarm grip and the underarm fighting style to experience which feels more natural, comfortable and is most effective. We think you will discover that the conventional thinking is long overdue a revision. Bon appétit!

References:

Lloyd, N., (2000), “The Spear”, lloydianaspects.co.uk, available online (accessed January 19th, 2024).

Matthew, C.A., (2012), “A Storm of Spears”, Barnsley: Pen and Sword.

Endnotes:

1. From the perspective of art, architecture, and culture, Classical Greece was a period of roughly 200 years corresponding to most of the 5th- and 4th-centuries BC. The commonly accepted dates range from the fall of the last Athenian tyrant in 510 BC to the death of Alexander the Great in 323 BC. 

2. The male pronoun is used throughout to reflect the perhaps inconvenient yet undeniable fact that, until more recent times, soldiering and armies were predominantly the preserve of men. In no way does this diminish women’s roles in warfare or suggest women could not fight. It is evident that they can and did.

3. The Hoplite Association was formed in 2001 as the world’s first re-enactment society solely dedicated to recreating the life and experiences of the Classical Greek period. Over the years members have developed a wide variety of characters, activities and demonstrations for the Association’s historical displays that can be experienced at venues across the UK.

4. A krater or crater (Ancient Greek: κρᾱτήρ, Romanised: krātḗr) was a large two-handled type of vase in Ancient Greek pottery and metalwork mostly used for the mixing of wine with water.


Wednesday, February 26, 2025

A Brief History of Food: The evolution of mealtimes

What follows was inspired by the video “Vegetables don’t exist” on the “Words Unravelled!” YouTube channel hosted by Rob Watts from “RobWords” and Jess Zafarris author of the etymology books “Words from Hell” and “Once Upon a Word”.

Meal Times  As Tastes Of History is based in the UK our focus on food history and recipes is unashamedly British and Euro-centric. Clearly, however, cuisine and dining in the “Old World” has been heavily influenced by pretty much all areas of the globe. Putting aside arguments about colonialism and imperialism for the present purpose, our diets have been enriched by discoveries in the Americas, Asia and Africa that have introduced Britons to foods previously unknown in the classical and Mediæval eras. With these new ingredients have come innovative recipes and changes to mealtimes and our dining experience.

Today, let us look at how our gastronomic day has altered over time. Most people are familiar with the idea of eating breakfast, lunch and dinner (or breakfast, dinner and tea, if you prefer [1]), but this had not always been the case. Most ancient Egyptians for example, whether rich or poor, ate two meals a day: a morning meal perhaps of bread and beer, followed by a hearty meal in the late afternoon/early evening of vegetables, meat, and more bread and beer. The ancient Greeks and Romans added a familiar third light snack in the middle of the day, but the main repast remained in the late afternoon/early evening before sunset. Indeed, up until the advent of artificial lighting, when people ate was chiefly dictated by daylight since the burning of candles, oil lamps, torches or tapers was an expense most ordinary folk could ill-afford. Naturally, as artificial lighting became more and more commonplace, meals could be eaten later and later in the day. Regardless, throughout history it was one’s wealth and status that dictated not only the access to and variety of foods available but also when they were eaten. In reality, only the richest social classes in the past had the means to illuminate lavish night-time feasts.

Breakfast  It should be self-evident that while asleep you cannot eat but that on waking you might want something “to break the night's fast”. Thus “break fast”, or more commonly “breakfast”, entered the language of Mediæval England. Intriguingly, the word has not always meant the first meal of the day but has had a more general meaning of any meal taken after you have not eaten for a while. Thus, for some people “breakfast” might occur at lunchtime, while for others luncheon or lunch was in fact the second meal of the day. Today the contraction of breakfast and lunch into “brunch” is a popular alternative for a more substantial meal taken around mid-morning, especially at weekends or on holiday.

For centuries, however, the daily routine of Mediæval monastic life shaped when people ate. Breakfast would have been eaten shortly after rising, but not before those who could had attended morning Mass. With work to be done in the fields and livestock to look after, farmers and country folk would not have had the time for such services, but pious townsfolk, the gentry and their servants often did attend chapel daily. With their religious observance fulfilled, and the first chores completed, people would pause to break their fast. This small, simple meal typically consisted of cold foods since cooking fires may have only just been lit as the household rose. Leftovers from the previous day plus eggs, butter, bread and small beer commonly formed the Mediæval breakfast.

Church services aside, daily life was governed by daylight as already mentioned. The Mediæval day was therefore structured differently to the present with most people rising much earlier and going to bed much earlier than now. Ordinary working men and women most likely rose at dawn to maximise the available daylight. By midday labourers in the Tudor period would be hungry after toiling in the fields from daybreak onward. They would take a short break to eat what was known as a “beever” or “noonshine” usually consisting of bread and cheese. The farmer and farm labourers would either have their food brought to them as they worked in the field, or they would have carried it with them in a bag. In contrast, a Tudor craftsman may have simply closed his shop and headed upstairs to his lodgings where his wife would have the midday meal waiting for both him, his labourers and apprentices.

Dinner  Since breakfast in the Mediæval and Tudor periods was eaten relatively early, those who did not rise early did not eat it. Unless traveling or hunting, the nobility generally dispensed with breakfast in favour of a hearty midday meal. Thus nobles, gentlemen and merchants would sit down for their main meal, commonly called “dinner”, around eleven or twelve o’clock. For the Tudor nobility and gentry, dinner could be the beginning of a round of feasting that might last all day, or it could be a simple and unpretentious repast, depending upon the occasion and the temperament of the diner.

As an aside, while not wishing to sow confusion, etymologically speaking “dinner” is supposed to be the first meal of the day. The word enters English via French whose roots are in Latin. “Breakfast” in French is “déjeuner”, while in Spanish it would be “desayuno”. The “dé-” in “déjeuner” negates the word “jeûner” which itself means “to fast”. The “des-” in Spanish is performing the same function, i.e. to create a negative. So, “déjeuner”, derived from the Gallo-Roman *desjunare, means “to break one's fast”. The word *desjunare had, in turn, come from Vulgar Latin *disjejunare, from dis- “undo, do the opposite of + Late Latin jejunare meaning “to fast” (from Latin iejunus “fasting, hungry, not partaking of food”). Thus, the modern French word “dîner” originally meant to “take the first meal of the day” but it is now the name given to the last meal of the day. In effect, the French are breaking their fast twice, first with “déjeuner” and then later with “dîner”.

Returning to our historical account, dinner in a large Mediæval or Tudor household might consist of two, or possibly three, courses typically consisting of several different dishes. Unlike today where all diners expect to get a portion of everything, not every dish would be within reach of every Mediæval or Tudor diner. Rather, guests were expected to select the things they liked best from the nearest “messe”, a set of dishes usually containing several bite-sized portions intended to be shared between two to four people. Slow cooked soups and pottages, usually made from beef, oatmeal and peas, were served first accompanied by bread. Boiled and roasted meats and pies formed the second course. After the meal, diners in the early Tudor period would have stood and drunk sweet wine and spices while the table was cleared, or “voided”. However, to escape the noise and disturbance of clearing away, it became increasingly popular for the top table to withdraw to another room where special luxuries, known as “banquettes”, could be enjoyed. Today we think of banquets as a full meal, but when banqueting became fashionable in Elizabeth I's reign, the word applied only to a final course of fruit, cakes, biscuits and sticky preserves, all of which featured sugar in varying degrees.

Supper  The final meal, eaten at the end of the Tudor working day sometime between 5 pm and 8 pm was known as “supper” which, interestingly, was a term applied to Christ’s last meal since AD 1300. For the commonfolk, this would often be the most elaborate of the day, although “elaborate” is a somewhat inappropriate adjective for the average peasant's daily fare. Nonetheless, the word “supper” is seemingly derived from the French “souper”, meaning literally “to eat soup”. The history of “souper”, however, is convoluted and varies according to the historical period, the region of France, and with people’s social class. The word appears to derive principally from the fact that French country folk ate their main meal at noon and only soup and bread in the evening. Sometime later “souper” would change to mean a lighter meal intended to sate your appetite after the theatre or a night on the town. In all cases, the resulting “supper” was lighter and less formal than dinner (Galloway, 2015).

As yet another aside, the website World in Paris, states the modern version of French onion soup dates from the mid-19th-century originating in Les Halles, the large open-air market in Paris. The restaurants around the market – La Poule au Pot, Chez Baratte, Au Pied de Cochon – served the soup with a substantial topping of grated cheese, grilled and served au gratin. According to one writer, the classic gratinée des Halles transcended class distinctions:

“The soup became both the breakfast of the ‘forts des Halles’ – the workers responsible for transporting the goods – as well as a hangover remedy for the party people leaving the cabarets of Paris late at night to go to the only district really nocturnal in Paris.”

Unlike the midday “dinner” often eaten in the fields, the working family’s evening meal was eaten at home around a common table. To confuse matters, by the Victorian era (1837 to 1901) these midday and evening meals were being referred to as “luncheon” and “dinner”, but hopefully that will become clearer shortly. Nonetheless, at the start of the Georgian period [2], with dinner being a late-morning meal eaten at either 10 am, 11 am, noon or even at 2 pm, breakfast was deemed unnecessary. In the 1700s the evening meal remained supper and was still eaten perhaps around 7 pm. The heyday of supper therefore was in the early to mid-Georgian period but, from the mid-17th-century, upper class Georgians were electing to eat dinner several hours later. Whether this was a move to distance themselves from the lower classes it had the effect of making supper obsolete. In response the canny Georgians simply moved their savoury, uncomplicated supper dishes to the next morning and ate them for breakfast. Indeed, from the middle of the 17th-century fashionable Georgians began using a special room known as the “breakfast parlour” for this purpose. Here family members and their house guests could select not only at what hour they would break their fast but also what to eat. A modest selection of tea, coffee, bread, pastries and fruits were typically set out on side tables for 2-3 hours each morning, usually from around 9 am until 11 am. Now a “fashionable Georgian might rise at 8 am, spend a couple of hours on letter writing or other tasks, and [then serve themselves] breakfast at a fashionable 10am” (www.kiplinhall.co.uk).

In one of those quirks of British society, the middle classes then actively sought to emulate the well-to-do and began to delay their own evening repast. So, at this point the Georgian fashion was for two formal meals per day, namely breakfast and dinner. But with dinner now pushed back to 6 pm or later, it necessitated new mealtimes were introduced to fill the void. Thus, it was that serving “luncheon” and “afternoon tea” was born.

Lunch  The origins of the word “lunch” are mysterious and complicated. Most people might assume that the aforementioned “luncheon” is merely an extension of the word “lunch”. Yet the first known citation records “luncheon” and not “lunch” suggesting the latter term is in fact a shortening of the former. Either way, according to renowned food historian Ivan Day: “Lunch was a very rare word up until the 19th-century.” Some suggest the term is derived from the old Anglo-Saxon word “nuncheon” meaning a quick snack between meals, one that could be held in the hands. In the mid-14th-century, “nōn-schench” (from none “noon” + shench “draught, cup”) meant a “slight refreshment of food and/or liquor taken at midday.” It is therefore quite probable that “luncheon” was modelled after “nuncheon” and thus, technically speaking, enjoying a “liquid lunch” ought to be an acceptable practice. Caroline Yeldham, also a food historian, suggests the term “lunch” was in use around the late 17th-century, while others hypothesize it derives from the word “nuch” used in both the 16th- and 17th-centuries for a large piece of bread. Whenever the term entered common English usage, it seems it was the French custom of eating “souper” in the 17th-century that shaped what most of us consume for lunch today.

It became fashionable among the British aristocracy to copy the French and eat a light meal in the evening, it being a more private meal while they gamed and womanised according to Ivan Day. But it was John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich’s famous late-night snack from the 1750s that now dominates the modern lunchtime menu. The popular story goes that one evening, during a 24-hour gambling session, the Earl supposedly ordered his valet to bring him cold meats between two slices of toasted bread. In so doing he could eat his snack using just one hand while avoiding getting grease on anything else. Whether he was engrossed in an all-night card game or, as some suggest, working at his desk is not at all clear; both have been suggested. Whatever he was doing, the Earl’s name has ever since been attached to similar snacks, even if he probably was not the first person to place a filling between two pieces of bread. Oddly, however, if the tale is true then what we now call a “toasted sandwich” should, in fact, be just a “sandwich” and all other versions should be “non-toasted sandwiches”.

Introducing “elevenses” and “afternoon tea”  As already alluded to, throughout history the number of meals taken very much depended on a person’s social status. During the Victorian period it was not uncommon for the wealthy, leisured class to be partaking of breakfast, “elevenses”, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper. The quantity of food consumed on country estates in the past must have been quite extraordinary, although we think portions were generally smaller. Either way it seems the moneyed probably ate little and often. By this time it seems breakfast had moved slightly earlier in the morning while lunch was still being eaten at 1 pm or 2 pm. A simple snack eaten around 11 am named, unsurprisingly, “Elevenses” was introduced to fill this new gap. Similarly, dinner had drifted further back in the day to around 8 pm, or slightly later, so “afternoon tea” became the vogue, especially among fashionable Victorian women.

While the custom of drinking tea can be dated to the third millennium BC in China, it first became popular in England in the 1660s. The Portuguese Infanta Catherine de Braganza, wife of King Charles II, is said to have brought the tea drinking habit to the Royal Court, the fashion for which slowly filtered down through English society. However, it is interesting to discover that green tea exported from China was first introduced in the coffeehouses of London shortly before the 1660 Stuart Restoration. In 1657, for example, a tobacconist and coffee house owner, Thomas Garway, was the first person in England to sell tea as a leaf and beverage at his London coffeehouse in Exchange Alley. Regardless, it was not until the mid-19th-century that the concept of “afternoon tea” first appeared.

As with Queen Catherine’s connection to tea drinking, afternoon tea is said to have been introduced to English society by Anna, the seventh Duchess of Bedford, in the year 1840. The undoubtedly apocryphal story has it that the Duchess would become hungry around four o’clock in the afternoon. The evening meal in her household was served fashionably late at eight o’clock, thus leaving a long period of time between lunch and dinner. The Duchess reputedly asked that a tray of tea, bread and butter, and cake be brought to her room during the late afternoon. This became a habit of hers and she began inviting friends to join her. Sadly, like many origin stories, the link between the Duchess and afternoon tea is contested and cannot be verified.

Regardless, the quintessentially British enthusiasm for taking afternoon tea became a fashionable social event and the preserve of the rich in the 19th-century. Echoing the Duchess of Bedford’s example, a selection of tea, sandwiches, scones, and cake was traditionally served on low, comfortable, parlour chairs or while relaxing in the garden. This light meal was never intended to replace dinner but rather, as we have seen, to fill the long gap between lunch and dinner at a time when the latter was served as late as 8 pm. During the 1880’s upper-class and society women would even change into long gowns, gloves and hats specifically to partake of afternoon tea usually served in the drawing room between four and five o’clock. Today our changing lifestyles have meant taking afternoon tea is more often saved for holidays or as a special treat rather than a stopgap.

What of “high tea”?  The phrases “afternoon tea” and “high tea” are often used interchangeably as many people mistakenly believe they are one and the same. Both tea traditions are steeped in British history but there is a difference, albeit a subtle one. The working lives of many ordinary folk simply did not allow time to sit down and enjoy scones and cakes in the late afternoon. For workers in the newly industrialised Victorian Britain, teatime had to wait until after they had finished work. By that hour, tea was generally served with heartier dishes, often hot and filling and accompanied by a pot of good strong tea as labourers needed sustenance after a day’s hard graft. It seems the phrase “high tea” was coined to differentiate between fashionable afternoon tea and that eaten by working folk seated at table on high-backed dining chairs. Even today, in working-class households the evening meal is often still called “tea”. Nevertheless, as our working patterns change yet again, you may find families referring to their evening meal once more as “supper”.

Conclusion?  From the earliest times the daily eating patterns of the lower and middle classes have been defined by daylight and their working hours. The 1700s saw mealtimes begin to change toward the pattern we are familiar with today. In Britain’s industrialising towns and cities of the late 18th-century most people, or at least those who could afford to, were eating three meals a day. By the early 19th-century, however, dinner for the working majority had been pushed into the evenings, after work when they returned home for a full meal. That said, many families today retain the traditional “dinner hour” around noon on a Sunday. Fashionable Victorians supplemented their three meals with afternoon tea and a re-imagined supper much later at night. Since the end of the Second World War most Britons have become accustomed to three meals a day, although snacking between meals is heartily encouraged by food manufacturers keen to sell their snacks and “treats”. 

As we have seen, the labels we assign to daily meals have evolved over the centuries. To “break your fast” with “dinner” has given way to an established breakfast. A midday lunch then supplanted dinner which largely remains the name for the evening meal for the middle/upper classes and those living in southern Britain. High tea for the working class survives further north where the lunchtime meal may be called dinner, and the evening one, tea. If by this you are confused, then don’t be as we are certain things will only evolve further to reflect modern lifestyles. Bon appétit!


References:

Galloway, J. (2015), “Quintessential France: George Sand on Soup and Souper”, The Rambling Epicure, available online (accessed 16 February 2025).

Johnson, B., (), “Afternoon Tea”, Historic UK, available online (accessed 19 February 2025).

Kiplin Hall and Gardens blog, “Georgian Mealtimes”, available online (accessed 13 February 2025).

Lemm, E. (2023), “What Is the Difference Between Afternoon Tea and High Tea?”, The Spruce Eats, available online (accessed 14 February 2025).

World in Paris website, (2016-2025), “French Onion Soup – Recipe, History & Where to Eat it in Paris”, available online (accessed 19 February 2025).

Endnotes:

1. A useful guide to which is which can be found at “Breakfast, lunch and dinner: Have we always eaten them”.

2. The Georgian period was from 1714 and named after the Hanoverian kings George I, George II, George III and George IV. The definition of the Georgian era tends to also include the relatively short reign of William IV, which ended with his death in 1837.

Wednesday, February 12, 2025

Ludi: Mediæval Games

Merels

Merellus was the Latin name for “game piece”, which may have been corrupted in English to “morris” and given rise to several similarly named games. The popular Roman game Terni Lapilli (“Three Pebbles”) is considered the ancestor of “Three Men’s Morris” which, by extension produced “Six Men’s Morris”, popular in Italy, France and England during the Middle Ages but obsolete by 1600, and “Nine Men’s Morris” or “Merels”. There is even a “Twelve Men’s Morris” that adds four diagonal lines to the board and gives each player twelve gaming pieces.

These games are also known as “Mill” or “Morris” in English and as “Mérelles” in French, “Morels” in Spanish, “Mühle” in German, “Mølle” in Norwegian, “Linea” in Italy and “Luk Tsut Ki” in China. As for the English names, it is believed they are derivations of the French word “merel” which means marker itself derived from the Latin merellus.

The game is played on a board consisting of three concentric squares connected by lines from the middle of each of the inner square's sides to the middle of the corresponding outer square's side. Pieces are played on the corner points and on the points where lines intersect so there are 24 playable points. Accompanying the board there should be 9 black pieces and 9 white pieces usually in the form of round counters.

The basic aim is to make “mills” - vertical or horizontal lines of three stones in a row. Every time this is achieved, an opponent's piece is removed, the overall objective being to reduce the number of opponent's pieces to less than three or to render the opponent unable to play. To begin the board is empty. A coin toss decides which player will play white as white moves first and thus has a slight advantage.

Gameplay: Play is in two phases.

  • To begin, players each take turns to place a piece of their own colour on any unoccupied point until all eighteen pieces have been played. After that, turns alternate and consist of a player moving one piece along a line to an adjacent vacant point.
  • During both phases, whenever a player achieves a “mill”, that player immediately removes from the board one piece belonging to their opponent that does not form part of a “mill”.
  • If all the opponent’s pieces form ‘“mills”, then an exception is made and the player is allowed to remove any one piece.
  • It is only upon the formation of a “mill” that a piece is captured, but a player will often break a “mill” by moving a piece out of it and then, in a subsequent turn, return the piece back thus forming a new “mill” and capturing another opponent’s piece.
  • Captured pieces are never replayed onto the board and remain captured for the remainder of the game.
  • The game is finished when a player loses either by being reduced to two pieces or by being unable to move.

Sometimes a “wild” rule is played for when a player is reduced to only three pieces. In this case, any player with only three pieces remaining is allowed to move from any point to any other point on the board regardless of lines or whether the destination point is adjacent.

Chess

Chess is the most popular board game in history, originating in 6th-century India as a game simulating a battle. Its earliest form was known as chaturanga meaning “four-limbed” in reference to the four ancient divisions of the Indian army: infantry, cavalry, elephantry and chariotry. The different pieces were imbued with different powers reflecting the military regiments on which they were modelled. Chess percolated westward to become a popular game in the Middle Ages amongst the European nobility, hence its sobriquet “the game of kings”, as well as the military, clerics and wealthy households. In doing so the earlier game pieces became the pawns, knights, bishops and rooks familiar to European players. What was once a vizier piece was replaced by the more dynamic queen, influenced by the rise of powerful queens in Europe. 

In the 12th-century young men were taught chess as a lesson in combat, mirroring its Indian origins, and many poets used the game to symbolise fortune or destiny. The 10th-century Abbasid scholar al-Masudi described how chess was used to train military strategy and mathematics. In the later Middle Ages chess became popular as an allegory of love amongst poets and artists. Perhaps the best example being the late 14th-century French poem Echecs Amoureux which includes a long description of a game of chess between a lady and her suitor. Over 200 years later, in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, Ferdinand and Miranda are discovered clearly flirting over the chessboard.

Gameplay

Chess is so well-known and popular that describing the gameplay is best left to the numerous books and online resources already available. That said, you probably know that a game ends when one player’s “king is helpless”. Of course you did. But did you know that Persian players would indicate this with the exclamation Shah mãt which was adopted into English as “checkmate”.

Rithmomachia

Rithmomachia, or the “philosopher’s game”, became important to higher education in Europe around the 11th-century. The game was thought to represent, in aesthetic form, the formal number theory of Greek polymath Pythagoras. The game was a favourite pastime of monks and clerics as church leaders believed it had enlightening qualities. In his 16th-century book “Utopia”, Thomas More has his citizens playing Rithmomachia instead of morally bankrupt games such as dice.

Pythagoras’ mathematical number theory held sway over European scholarship for more than a thousand years. He claimed “all is numbers” but apparently did not believe in all numbers favouring only rational (or whole) numbers such as 1, 2, 3 and simple fractions such as ½ as the foundation of the universe. The mathematical adherents of Pythagoras esteemed rational numbers so much that they actively tried to conceal the existence of irrational numbers (non-repeating decimals including Pi). It is even reputed that they assassinated the Greek philosopher Hippasus who had stumbled on the irrational challengers. The Pythagorean cult set European scholarship back by hundreds of years until, by the 17th-century, new techniques borrowed from India and Persia reinvigorated European mathematics. As Pythagoras’ ideas fell out of favour so too did Rithmomachia’s popularity.

Gameplay

Rithmomachia is similar in gameplay to chess. Its different pieces move according to distinct rules and like chess, players vie to capture their opponent’s pieces. Unlike chess, each Rithmomachia piece is inscribed with a number that dictates where and how pieces must be positioned to capture other pieces. To win, a player must arrange several of their pieces on their opponent’s side of the board in a mathematical progression, for example, 2-4-8.

References:

Clancy, K., (2024), “War and pieces”, BBC History Magazine (July edition), pp. 27-31.

Williams, S., (2005), BBC History Magazine Volume 6, Number 2, p. 43.

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Ludi: War games

It can be argued that the face of modern Europe was changed by Kriegsspiel or “war game”. In the 18th-century German military strategists meddled with chess, itself an abstraction of war, to create a more realistic military planning tool. Inspired by the success of the scientific method in so many other fields, they hoped to recast war as a science. The game they devised was Kriegsspiel, with which they aimed to test and workshop new strategies. The chess board was first expanded to thousands of squares, colour-coded to represent different terrains. As map-making technology improved, the game was played on scaled maps of actual battlefields that allowed officers to plan their real campaigns in detail.

Each turn of play represented two minutes of warfare, and wooden block troops were constrained to move a realistic distance in that time. Casualty tables derived from actual battle data were used by umpires to predict each simulated action’s effects. As in modern tabletop wargaming, dice throws randomised and determined the damage inflicted by each attack. Kriegsspiel resulted in a remarkably accurate prediction engine allowing German officers to cohere the first German empire in the late 19th-century. Most modern militaries use some form of game simulation in their training and planning.

In 1913 author HG Wells published a simple tabletop war game he called “Little Wars”. As an acknowledged pacifist this seems a little odd, but he hoped that playing at war and witnessing its horrors in miniature would encourage people to avoid it for real. In due course Wells’ Little Wars gave rise to a plethora of new tabletop war games that culminated in Dungeons and Dragons and countless role-playing video games. The impact of playing war games has been far reaching even influencing modern policy. The nuclear war simulation game “Proud Prophet” was played by top US officials in 1983. Every outcome was so harrowing that the exercise convinced President Ronald Reagan’s administration to open arms control negotiations with the Soviet Union.

Bon appétit!

Reference:

Clancy, K., (2024), “War and pieces”, BBC History Magazine (July edition), pp. 27-31.