Dionysius’ “Polybolos”: an ancient repeating catapult

What follows is a discussion on the design of a weapon that is somewhat unique in the annals of ancient Graeco-Roman artillery. Its very name “Polybolos” (lit. “many thrower”) implies this weapon was the torsion-powered, semi-automatic repeating catapult or bolt-shooter described in detail by Philon of Byzantium in his work “Belopoietica” (Marsden, 1971, 147-155). Possibly dating to 300 BC and constructed by Dionysius of Alexandria in Rhodes, this innovative machine uses a windlass operated double chain drive running over pentagonal sprockets to move a slider back and forth. It also incorporates a cam mechanism to translate linear movement into rotary motion to turn a long roller that feeds bolts, one at a time, from a magazine into the groove on the slider. Both innovations are remarkable for their first known appearances in European technology. Trip mechanisms are also used to cause the trigger to capture and then release the bowstring (Wilkins, 2024, 1). To appreciate the complexity and elegance of the design, armed with Philon’s description a working Polybolos was reconstructed by Alan Wilkins, FSA. The video clip below shows the machine in action:

Automatic action  With the forward rotation of handspikes on a windlass, which is connected to the rear sprockets, the slider moves automatically forwards, whereupon a pin attached to the slider engages and follows the helical cam groove of the roller above. The roller rotates clockwise until the lengthwise slot is aligned with the corresponding opening of the bolt case, or magazine, at which point gravity feeds a bolt into the longitudinal groove. As the slider reaches the extent of its forward motion, the bowstring is fed beneath the claw-like fingers of the trigger. Another pin engages the trigger release lever locking the claw over the bowstring.

Rotating the windlass in the opposite direction reverses the direction of the chain drive to pull the slider rearward and, in so doing, rotates the roller anticlockwise. When the longitudinal slot is aligned with the groove in the slider an arrow is gravity fed onto the latter. The slider continues rearward until a fixed pin engages the protruding lever of the trigger mechanism freeing the claw to pivot upward and release the bowstring. At this point the twisted skeins of sinew-rope propel the two bow arms forward dragging the bowstring along the slider to discharge the bolt. The continuous backward and forward rotation of the windlass in this way enables an operator to launch a succession of bolts relatively swiftly.

The chain drive mechanism produces an impressive rate of fire when compared with a reproduction of a standard three-span Vitruvian catapult (Latin: sing. catapulta; pl. catapultae). Testing by members of the Roman Military Research Society (RMRS) revealed that Wilkins’ Polybolos could shoot six bolts in the time taken to discharge two using the Vitruvian machine and a two-man crew. With this impressive rate of fire there must have been a very sound reason for the Polybolos not continuing in service after the third century BC. Why, then, was the Polybolos unsuccessful?

Design ahead of its time?  The main problem seems to be that it did not offer a huge technological leap forward in terms of firepower. While one man can singlehandedly operate the Polybolos, the semi-automated loading and firing process results in the string being drawn at essentially the same rate as other non-automated machines. Allowing gravity to feed the bolts is therefore not much faster than allowing a loader to place them on the slider against the bowstring. Moreover, the non-automatic system allows the ballistarii (“artillerymen”) more time to aim between shots. Philon makes the claim that the Polybolos was too accurate (“...the missiles will not have a spread...”), but one might question whether Philon ever saw the machine in action, because there is no way that successive bolts would stay in a tight group except at close ranges [1]. Indeed, well before the maximum range quoted by Philon - “...little more than a stade” (approximately 200 m) - the bolts would have dispersed, as they can be seen to do when shooting modern reconstructions of standard, non-automated, bolt-shooters [2]. The Polybolos is clearly a much more complicated machine, with many more constituent parts, than the standard bolt-shooter. It would have been more costly to construct and maintain. For example, the Wilkins’ reconstruction used about 150 pins to join the links of the two chain drives, and that may be the Achilles heel that led to its not having “found a noteworthy use” by Greek, or indeed Roman armies. Every pin would have to withstand the strain of drawback, and if even one pin snapped - literally “the weakest link” - then the machine would be out of action. Yet it is intriguing to know whether a full power Polybolos would be a viable weapon. Having seen Alan Wilkins’ reconstructed Polybolos in action several times over the years, and having been lucky enough to shoot it, the machine uses a complex yet elegant mechanism, the operation of which is simple to master. Yet the design is not without its problems.

Underpowered  Firstly, most, if not all, reconstructions of the Polybolos appear severely underpowered. This is not a criticism of the reconstructions themselves, or of their builders, however. Most of these machines are simply proofs of concept - full size working models if you prefer - aimed at “bringing to life” Dionysius’ invention. Their constructors did not necessarily set out to reproduce a fully tensioned catapult. Rather, most builders are simply intrigued by the repeating concept and determined to investigate how all the complex parts might have fitted and worked together. Leaving the machine underpowered, therefore, makes some sense as the complete mechanism is somewhat of an unknown quantity. The precise materials used in its construction are not known, although we can infer much from the parts of ancient catapults that do survive. Nor do we know how robust these different parts were or need to be. We have no idea whether the whole mechanism could have coped with the stresses on the individual components or whether it could have operated efficiently with the amount of potential energy stored in fully tensioned sinew-rope springs. There is the inherent danger of the machine literally destroying itself under tension. Until a foolhardy individual builds a full power catapult fitted with the automated loading/release system, this will remain a “known unknown”.

All of the above, however, has been a preamble to a long running thought experiment. Taking Wilkins’ Polybolos as the benchmark, it is obvious from shooting his reconstruction that the bolts do not fly very far: about six metres rather than the hundreds for a truly effective war machine. This is hardly surprising since the spring frame is deliberately underpowered for reasons of safety when being demonstrated in public. The performance is not helped as the Wilkins example, and all similar reconstructions, uses flightless bolts. Once again this is not that surprising. The automated feed system, with its magazine and grooved roller, would appear to rule out the use of fletching, but the absence of feathers, fins or vanes (otherwise known as fletches or flights) will adversely affect the aerodynamic stabilisation of bolts or darts. Thus, we are left to question what would happen if flightless bolts were used in a fully tensioned Polybolos? How would they perform? Would they be stable in flight? Would the bolts fly true? How accurate would the catapult prove to be, and what ranges could be achieved? Answering these questions would certainly demonstrate the viability, or not, of a fully tensioned Polybolos as a weapon.

Just as the bolts shot from the famous 3rd-century AD Chinese repeating crossbow had no flights at all, nor do those used in Wilkins’ reconstruction. This, however, contradicts Philon as he informs us that the Polybolos shot an unnotched, one cubit one dactyl long (481.7 mm) [3] missile with three feathered flights. However, as the missiles were delivered from the magazine to the slider via a grooved roller, “the flights could be as long as you like, but could not protrude much from the surface of the arrow, otherwise they would interfere with the automatic loading” (Marsden, 1971, 178: Note 109).

Arrow anatomy  Before proceeding it might be beneficial to describe the anatomy of an arrow or bolt. Broadly speaking any arrow (or bolt) is designed to deliver an arrowhead (also known as a “point”) to the intended target. There are numerous variations in points to deal with different targets and circumstances. Broadheads and barbed heads are typically used for hunting and/or against unarmoured targets, while bodkin points were developed to penetrate armour. The selection of arrowheads pictured gives an idea of the variety available at different times and for different uses. Regardless of the styling, arrowheads are fixed to one end of a shaft, traditionally wooden although modern arrow shafts are more likely to be of aluminium or carbon fibre. At the opposite end of the shaft is fletching consisting of feathers, fins, flights or vanes, each of which individually is known as a fletch, and collectively used to stabilise the arrow in flight and improve its accuracy. Traditional fletching consists of three matched half-feathers that are equally spaced at 120° intervals around the shaft’s circumference. In English archery, the male or “cock” feather is used on the outside of the arrow, while the other two stabilizing feathers are referred to in some quarters as “hens”. Wing feathers have a natural curvature that helps spin the arrow in flight and thus stabilise it. Traditional archery lore has it that a right-handed archer should shoot a right-winged feather and right-handed helical, and a left-handed archer should use the opposite.

So, the arrows shot from a traditional bow typically have three fletches arranged as pictured. Some horse-archers prefer four fletches as this makes it easier to orientate and nock each arrow on the bowstring while in the saddle of a moving horse. Fletches were traditionally attached with glue and silk thread. Feather fletches impart a natural spin on an arrow due to the rough and smooth sides of a feather and their natural curvature in accordance with which wing the feather came from. Vanes, such as modern plastic ones, need to be placed at a slight angle (called an offset fletch), or set into a twist (called a helical fletch) to create the same effect, but all are there to impart stability to the projectile to ensure it does not tumble during flight.

The design of ancient catapults, however, presents a problem for fletching bolts. Before shooting, each bolt is set in a semi-circular grove in the catapult’s slider (see below) and butted up to its bowstring (a nock is not required). The groove’s profile does not allow the bolt’s vanes to be set at 120° intervals around the shaft’s circumference. Rather, Tastes Of History’s reproduction bolts have two lateral vanes fixed horizontally, and one vertical dorsal vane (the equivalent of the cock feather), as shown.

A large dorsal vane, however, would hinder the efficient stacking of bolts in the type of vertical magazine described by Philon. It is quite usual for crossbow bolts (quarrels), such as the Mediæval examples pictured, to have only two horizontal vanes. This would be a simple compromise yet, as previously mentioned, Philon stated: the three “flights could be as long as you like but could not protrude much from the surface of the arrow, otherwise they would interfere with the automatic loading”. Figures 1 to 3 below are our attempt to illustrate how bolts are fed, one at a time, from the Polybolos’ magazine into a groove cut into its long roller which, in turn, rotates to drop each bolt into the groove on the slider. Note that in the Wilkins’ reconstruction, and as evidenced in the video above, two brass guides prevent the bolts from prematurely dropping out of the roller groove. These guides have been omitted in the following diagrams for clarity.

In Figure 1, the roller rotates clockwise on an axle until the next bolt drops from the magazine into the roller groove. As the mechanism reverses direction so the roller rotates anticlockwise (Figure 2) until the bolt drops into the slider groove. The problem with this configuration, as shown in Figure 3, is that a bolt with a dorsal vane will foul on the slider groove and prevent the bolt seating correctly. Ideally, the bolt should be presented the other way up, but this would mean loading the magazine with the dorsal vanes downward and they would then not seat correctly in the roller groove. So, despite Philon’s attestation that each bolt had three feathers it seems more logical that only two vanes should be used as is the case for crossbow quarrels. Moreover, removing the dorsal vane allows more bolts to stacked in the magazine, and the two-vane solution mitigates the feed issue while retaining the stabilising effect of fletching (Figure 4).

Two alternative solutions may also address the automatic feeding issue and the current lack of fletching. The first echoes Philon but proposes adding a fourth fletch (three of which are shown below in black) for symmetry. The shaft at the point where the fletches are adhered would need to be of sufficient diameter so the bowstring connects with the bolt shaft and not the fletches/vanes. The latter circumstance would undoubtedly lead to a potentially dangerous misfire.

The mock-up shown above is based on a bolt recovered during the 1922-1937 excavations in the Roman garrison town and Sassanid siege-works at Dura-Europos in Syria (see below). In this design, the vanes fill where material was removed from tail of the Dura-Europos example such that they do not protrude excessively from the shaft as Philon suggests. Of note, a tapered wooden shaft may not be the most appropriate for the feed system, but the thicker rear section ought to act as a useful counterweight to balance the iron bodkin. Experiments with both tapered and parallel shafts would be necessary to determine the most efficient bolt design.

The inspiration for a second possible solution came from a somewhat unlikely source, namely the “Hale Rocket”. In 1844 William Hale (1797-1870) patented a new form of rotary rocket design that improved on the earlier William Congreve design. Removing the stabilising guide-stick from Congreve’s rocket, in its place Hale vectored part of his rocket's thrust through canted exhaust holes. This imparted rotation to the rocket about its longitudinal axis thereby improving its stability in flight [4]. The three curved fins reminiscent of an arrow's fletches were, most notably, in-line with the rocket’s cylindrical body. Could a similar configuration be used for the shaft of a Polybolos bolt? Could the fletches or vanes be fixed to a reduced diameter shaft so as not to foul the feed system, and would this actually work?

The first pattern, shown below, uses a standard 460 mm long, untapered bolt typically shot by one-cubit, or two-span, catapult reproductions. Note that three offset vanes have been carved into the rear portion of the shaft along its longitudinal axis. A sufficient mass of material is retained to mitigate the possibility of the shaft shattering as the propelling force is transmitted from the bowstring to the bolt.

The next step will be to produce a number of example bolts and shoot them. Future tests will aim to prove the concept and determine which of the two bolt designs will: (1) feed cleanly from the Polybolos' magazine, (2) engage with the mechanism, (3) shoot safely, and (4) improve in-flight stability. Until then, bon appétit!

References:

Marsden, E.W. (1971), “Greek and Roman Artillery: Technical Treatises”, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Wilkins, A. (2024), “Roman Imperial Artillery”, Oxford: Archaeopress, pp. 1-3.

Endnotes:

1. There is little or no evidence beyond Philon’s description to prove the Polybolos was anything more than an idea. Most likely it was an unrealised one.

2. As with many automatic weapons systems, the Polybolos does tend to launch multiple bolts consistently at the same point in space. While this does produce a rather desirous 'mean point of impact', it is less than ideal if the intention is to engage and hit multiple targets in rapid succession.

3. The modern equivalents to the ancient Greek units of measurement are:

1 dactyl 19.3 mm (0.76 in)

1 palm (4 dactyls) 77.1 mm (3.04 in)

1 span (12 dactyls) 231.2 mm (9.12 in)

1 foot (16 dactyls) 308.3 mm (12.16 in)

1 cubit (24 dactyls) 462.4 mm (18.21 in).

4. Winter, F.H. (1990), “The First Golden Age of Rocketry: Congreve and Hale Rockets of the Nineteenth Century”, Washington and London: Smithsonian Institution Press, p. 321.

Dispelling Some Myths: The Game of Quoits

The history of the game of quoits appears, on the face of it, to have an ancient origin. At least that is what you would believe from several website authors who attribute the game's invention to ancient Greece.  Foremost among these is The United States Quoiting Association (USQA.org) whose history of the game may well be "patient zero" upon whom many others have relied.  It certainly seems to be the case for researchers on the BBC's Celebrity Antiques Road Trip.  For example, about 30 minutes into the episode in Series 6 featuring comediennes Ronni Ancona and Jan Ravens, it was stated that quoits "originated in the ancient Greece...[and] was one of the five games of the pentathlon."  Having never come across this fact before, the alarm bells to start ringing.  Quoits in the ancient Greek pentathlon - are you sure?  It just did not seem right.

An initial search found one of the more comprehensive histories of the game on the USQA.org's website.  This particular history seems to be oft repeated source used by other web authors so a closer study of the content was in order.  According to the opening statement: "the origins of the Quoit can be traced back to the very ancient Chakram, a ring-shaped metal blade used as a weapon of war, and later in history, to the discus throw of the ancient Greek Olympics."

Modern ring quoits as used in the Northern English game, and shown in the image above, do look at lot like the Indian chakram.  According to the Wikipedia entry, however, the earliest references to the chakram come from the Indian epics Mahabharata and Ramayana where the Sudarshana Chakra is the weapon of the god Vishnu.  The Mahābhārata is an epic legendary narrative of the Kurukṣetra War and the fates of ancient India’s Kaurava and Pāṇḍava princes.  The oldest preserved parts of the text are thought to be not much older than around 400 BC, though the oral origins of the epic probably fall between the 8th and 9th centuries BC[1].

Other than a general likeness - both chakram and quoit are disc-shaped, and thrown - there is little evidence to suggest that the latter evolved from the former.  So, if an Indian origin is unlikely, then what about ancient Greece?

USQA.org goes on to state: "The Discus was also referred to as a Quoit in many Greek writings and mythological tales.  In its original form it was a flat, tapered disk made of stone, iron, or bronze."

It is doubtful that the term “quoit” was ever used by ancient authors as the ancient Greek word δίσκος (discus) rather does the trick.  The confusion may be a more modern one stemming from the nouns "quoit" and "discus" being used synonymously today to refer to a flat disc that is thrown.  USQA.org is correct, however, to describe the original ancient Greek discus being of stone, while later examples were made in bronze (pictured left), lead or iron.  Excavated examples of discusses have diameters ranging between 17 cm and 35 cm and weights of 1.3 kg to 6.6 kg.  The average appears to be 2.5 kg, which is ½ kg above the minimum weight of a modern discus.  The weight differences are easily explained as each city-state (poleis) had his own standard, while the discusses for boys were understandably lighter than those for adults.  Three official, standard weight, discusses were kept in the Sikyonian treasury[2] for use at the Olympic games supposedly to make competition fairer.

USQA's history continues by stating: "The Discus was by far the most popular event of the Olympic games, so many spectators who watched the athletes perform the Discus throw in competition eagerly sought to imitate the sport at home."

Once again, no.  The discus throw was not a separate event as it is in today’s modern Olympics.  Instead it was part of the ancient Olympic pentathlon (Greek: πένταθλον) comprising five (pente-) competitions (athlon) contested over one day.  Significantly, the first pentathlon was held at the 18th ancient Olympiad around 708 BC, which clearly pre-dates any written reference to the chakram’s origin (see above).  By the 77th ancient Olympiad, the pentathlon was generally ordered into three sections: the stadion foot race, the triagmos of the long jump, javelin throw and discus throw, concluding with wrestling.

So, rather than "later in history", the discus throw clearly has much earlier roots.  Moreover, the only way the discus throw could be "the most popular event of the Olympic games" is if the pentathlon was by far the most popular competition, which it seems it was not.  Apparently pentathletes were considered inferior to those athletes who specialized in a certain event.  As to popularity, the pankration, introduced in the 33rd Olympiad (648 BC), was one of the most popular events: Pindar wrote eight odes praising victors of the pankration[3].  While horse racing and chariot racing were the most prestigious competitions in the games.  It is unlikely, then, that ancient Greeks from all walks of life "eagerly sought to imitate the sport at home".

Yet, if the discus throw is the ancestor of quoits, then there was clearly a significant rule change.  The ancient Greek competition, for example, required the pentathletes to throw a solid discus five times.  The winner was whoever threw the furthest distance.  According to USQA.org: "At some undocumented point in history, stakes in the ground were added to change the game from one of distance to one of accuracy."

Put simply, foregoing distance to ring a peg (or pin) means a solid discus simply cannot be used and, more importantly, points to the discus throw and the game of quoits having clearly different aims.  It is not unreasonable to say that they are clearly two different sports, albeit superficially connected by a throwing element.

Leaving the ancient Greeks, USQA.org then asserts the Romans role in spreading the game of quoits far and wide: "During the period of the Roman conquest of Europe, the Romans shod their warhorses with circular rings of iron weighing about 4 pounds apiece.  These "shoes" were not nailed to the horses' hooves but rather were strapped to them with leather thongs."

As far as is known the Romans did not shoe their horses with "rings of iron" but used the “hipposandal” (Latin: soleae ferreae) instead.  Surviving examples look like an oval-shaped cup of thick metal that enclosed and protected the hoof.  As USQA.org states, this early form of horseshoe was fastened to the hoof by leather laces tied through metallic rings and around a prominent hook (as shown above).  The hipposandal was clearly not a circular ring so this is another example of a non sequitur (Latin: "it does not follow") in USQA.org’s history.  It is equally doubtful that what the Romans did use weighed "4 pounds apiece".  Conveniently, however, this is the weight of a modern quoit as prescribed for the traditional American game - a coincidence surely?

Returning to the history: "The rings were a fair imitation of a Discus or Quoit, so the soldiers began tossing the worn-out shoes in their leisure time.  When horseshoes later developed into the open U-shape familiar now, the soldiers would either bend them into crude rings or just pitch them as they were.  Thus, Horseshoes became the economical substitute for soldiers and commoners who did not have access to the expensive, forged sets of Quoits."

Although it could be argued there is some resemblance between a hipposandal and a discus - flat metal discs that Roman soldiers might have thrown for distance - hipposandals were clearly not "a fair [or otherwise] imitation" of a ring-shaped quoit.  The familiar nailed, u-shaped, iron horseshoe first appeared in the archaeological record in Europe in about the 5th century AD when a horseshoe, complete with nails, was found in the tomb of the Frankish King Childeric I at Tournai, Belgium[4].  This was around the time of the waning and eventual collapse of Roman administration in Europe.  In these turbulent times it is unlikely that soldiers, Roman or otherwise, were bending iron horseshoes "into crude rings" to play quoits.

Regardless, "The Roman conquest brought Quoits to Britain, and by the 1300’s the game became a hugely popular pastime there, especially among English Noblemen.  British settlers eventually brought Quoits to America in the late 1600's, where it flourished throughout the Colonies."  Frustratingly there is little or no evidence for the game of quoits being brought to Britain during the period of Roman rule, or of the game being played subsequently.  That is until AD 1388 when there is some vague "historical evidence of attempts to ban Quoits from pubs and taverns due to its disreputable character"[5].  It is not until the 19th century that the game became increasingly popular and was documented in any detailed way.  The official rules, for example, first appeared in the April 1881 edition of The Field having been defined by a body formed from pubs in Northern England.  If true, then quite how the game was taken to the USA in the 17th century remains somewhat of a mystery, but not impossible.

It seems readily apparent that the game of quoits has a well-established yet unsubstantiated, almost mythical, history in popular culture.  To be fair to USQA.org, its published history has been singled out and heavily critiqued, but its authors are not alone in fuelling the game's mythical roots.  Clearly drawing on each other, many other, diverse websites perpetuate the same ideas.  Few challenge the game’s asserted Greek ancestry, many are happy to conflate the ancient discus with the modern quoit, and most blindly accept that the Romans spread the game across their Empire and, in time, much further afield.  Where doubts are expressed, those authors simply opt for a later unspecified mediaeval European origin.  Whatever the truth, the "ancient" history of quoits ought to be treated with caution, perhaps even as just a myth to be dispelled.

References:
[1] Brockington, J. (1998), The Sanskrit Epics, Leiden, p.26.

[2] ancientolympics.arts.kuleuven.be/eng/TC004EN.html
[3] Gardiner, E. N. (1910), "Greek athletic sports and festivals", Macmillan London.

[4] "Horseshoe", (2005), Encyclopædia Britannica, 15th ed. Vol. 20, 651-51.
[5] http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/quoits.htm, recovered March 20th, 2019.

Collop Monday

In an earlier post (Daily Meals in Tudor England) mention was made of "Collop Monday", the day before Shrove Tuesday, in connection with the origins of breakfast.  More recently we produced "Scotch Collops" for English Heritage's "Elizabethan Pageant" at Kenilworth Castle.  With little idea of what the term "collop" meant, some quick web-based research revealed a surprising answer.

Like Easter, Collop Monday is evidently another moveable date in the Christian calendar but regardless on what date it actually falls, it is always the Monday before Shrove Tuesday (pancake day in Britain).  Precisely when Collop Monday came into being is not clear but it was most likely established in the Mediaeval period.

Also known as Shrove Monday, traditionally this was the last day to cook and eat meat before the prohibitions of Lent.  Without refrigeration, it is likely that the only meat available at that time of year would have been smoked or salted - usually bacon or ham.  In fact, in Tudor England the name collops referred specifically to thick slices of bacon.

It soon became the custom that the bacon would be fried and served with eggs, usually for breakfast, on Collop Monday.  In one way this could be considered the forerunner of today's full English Breakfast.  Nevertheless, the leftover bacon fat would be used the following day, Shrove Tuesday, to make pancakes.

The traditional Scottish dish known as "Scotch Collops" uses either mince or thin slices of either beef, lamb or venison.  The meat is combined with onion, salt, pepper and suet, then stewed, baked or roasted with optional flavourings according to the meat used.  Today Scotch Collops are often served garnished with thin toast and mashed potato.

Wæs hæl! Drinc hæl!

Although synonymous with Christmas, the tradition of wassailing, typically celebrated on Twelfth Night (variously January 5th or 6th), has largely been displaced by carolling.  Both versions share the practice of people going door-to-door and singing, but wassailing also involves offering a drink from the "wassail bowl" in exchange for gifts.

There is another version of wassailing, however, with ancient roots: the custom of visiting orchards in the cider-producing regions of England (chiefly the counties of Devon, Somerset, Dorset, Gloucestershire and Herefordshire).  This form of wassailing involves incantation and singing, the purpose being to awake the cider apple trees and to scare away evil spirits thus ensuring a good harvest of fruit the following Autumn.

Whichever version you favour, the word "wassail" seems to be a contraction of the Anglo-Saxon greeting Wæs þu hæl, meaning "be thou hale" or, if you prefer, “be in good health”.  In the twelfth century, Danish-speakers inhabiting the Danelaw turned Waes hael, and the reply Drinc hæl, into a drinking formula, a toast widely adopted by the rest of England's population.

So, if over this festive season you wish to go a-wassailing you might consider this Victorian recipe for...

The non-alcoholic nature of this recipe can be upgraded by replacing the apple juice with scrumpy or something similar.

From the Supply Reserve Depot

Success! For some time now, I have been searching for a stoneware jar marked with the letters “SRD” to complement Tastes Of History’s Great War themed history displays.  While many stoneware jars have been found, none had the iconic “SRD” lettering.  Just before Christmas Jill and I visited Victoria Mill Antiques Centre in Congleton, a favourite haunt f\of ours or seeking out period props and kitchenalia.  If I am honest, we went there for lunch as chef Ian Woodhouse serves quite superb food in the Loft Café, but it never hurts to have a nose around.  Within minutes, three stoneware jars were spotted at the back of a shelf but, so used to finding such things, I almost ignored them.  That is until I noticed what looked like black marks on one of the jars facing the wall.  Could it be?  The jar pictured is now part of our kit, but why all the fuss and what do those letters mean?

First World War, and later, period British Army stoneware jars were typically marked with the letters “SRD” which, according to the Imperial War Museum (IWM), stood for “Supply Reserve Depot”.  As usual various internet commentators continue to cast doubt on this meaning, but it is safe to say that the alternatives (see InfoBox), which are all too often quoted, are simply incorrect.

Other, more ironic, interpretations of the initials including: “Seldom Reaches Destination”, “Service Rum Diluted” and “Soon Runs Dry” are simply wonderful examples of soldiers' black humour.  If there remains any doubt on the meaning of “SRD”, then consider that the Imperial War Museum was founded in 1917 to record the civil and military war effort and sacrifice of Britain and its Empire during the First World War.  Such a pedigree gives the IWM a certain authority on such matters and thus “Supply Reserve Depot” it is.

That containers and crates for other foodstuffs and drinks/liquids were marked “SRD” is completely understandable and consistent with them being distributed to the front through the Army’s logistical supply system.  Indeed, the iconic "SRD" jars, which are usually assumed to have contained only rum, may have held many different liquids or substances.  These stoneware jars were simply the common storage container of the day.  Variations in the shape and glaze colours of surviving examples is most likely the result of mass production by several different potteries.

The association with rum remains valid, however.  Except for Muslim personnel, British and Commonwealth soldiers were given a daily rum ration of 1/16th of a pint, or a quarter-gill, per man per day.  Given such a small amount, frontline soldiers would find it difficult to get intoxicated on the standard issue ration alone so stories of troops going into battle in an alcoholic stupor are most likely unfounded.  That said, some sources mention the run ration being doled out more frequently, especially when attacks were imminent or if heavy casualties increased the availability of rum.  Typically, however, the ration was issued once per morning at the daily “stand-to” when, just before dawn, soldiers would man their forward trench positions in preparation to counter an enemy attack.

Christmas?

Ever wondered where Christmas comes from?  After all we have been celebrating a mid-winter festival for millennia.  According to the latest research, even the monumental Neolithic structure known as Stonehenge, completed ca. 2,500 BC, seems geared towards worshipping the setting of the sun at the mid-winter solstice.

From the Neolithic through to the Romans, people have been marking the lengthening of the days post the solstice.  Ensuring that the sun (and by extension, Spring) returned each year might be thought essential for any farming community reliant of the seasons and the cycle of life.  At the darkest point of the year, therefore, when people were increasingly dependent on the stored harvest and hoping they will have sufficient stocks to get through the winter, a celebratory festival would be good for morale.  Combine that with some form of religious observance aimed at placating the sun, or the relevant god or goddess, or whatever, seems eminently sensible.

Step forward Pope Julius I, Bishop of Rome from February 6th, AD 337 to his death on April 12th, AD 352 who found an expedient way to settle a question that had divided Christendom: when was Jesus born?

Throughout the Roman world, and especially in Rome, the great celebration was Saturnalia or, by the 4th century AD, "Dies Natalis Solis Invicti" (birth day of the Unconquered Sun).  The former lasted several days and culminated in the "Brumalia" on December 25th.  The later was also celebrated on  the same day following the dedication of a new temple to Sol by the Emperor Aurelian on December 25th, AD 274.  The longevity and immense popularity of this ancient festival, in fact the major celebration of the year for many people, caused some consternation for the early Christian church.  It just could not stop people enjoying the old rituals.

Pope Julius I thus found himself head of a faith at the heart of which was the resurrection, the defeat of death, by the adult Jesus - and this took place at Easter!  How then to wean the "faithful" off celebrating the old ways at mid-winter and follow the church's teachings?

The early Christians lacked a story of the divine birth of their principal actor, and had actively avoided celebrating the birth of Christ for fear it would mark him "a mere earthly king" (as the early Christian theologian, Origen, wrote ca. AD 245).  Pope Julius' response was to simply superimpose a Christian festival on the "pagan" one. In AD 350, the worship of one sun god was neatly replaced with another at precisely the same time of year, marking December 25th as the birth date of Jesus,  and much of the ancient paraphernalia and ritual was adopted.  Expropriation of the ancient mid-winter solstice festival gave birth to the Nativity.

Dispelling a Myth: Britain's "Secret Service"

Yet another TV drama refers to Britain's Secret Service, but why?  Britain has not had a "secret service" since the end of the Second World War.  At the time of writing that's 73 years ago!  So, why do journalists, media types, film and TV producers continue to confuse the title with the US agency of the same name.  Perhaps they are simply ignorant, or perhaps they are pandering to a US marketplace, or perhaps they think we Britons are too dim-witted to understand who's who.  Can it be that difficult to separate fact from fiction?  As it turns out, no.  A little open source research quickly finds the publicly available history of these two organisations in their own words.

Since their establishment in 1909 both the Security Service and Secret Intelligence Service have had a variety of names, most famously MI5 and MI6, which has often led to confusion about what the Services have been called.  Officially the terms MI5 and MI6 were consigned to history decades ago but their grip on popular culture has been perpetuated by their use by the media and, in the case of MI5, the Security Service itself.

In the early 1900s, the British government was increasingly concerned about the threat to its Empire posed by Germany’s imperial ambitions.  This led to scare stories of German spies and even the Director of Military Operations was convinced that Germany was targeting Britain.  While the rumours proved to be exaggerated, the Prime Minister, Herbert Asquith, reacted to popular concern and ordered the Committee of Imperial Defence to look into the matter.  The Committee established a Secret Service Bureau in July 1909.  It was placed under the nominal supervision of the Directorate of Military Operations (DMO) of the War Office, the predecessor of today's Ministry of Defence.  The branch of the DMO responsible for the Secret Service Bureau was called MO5.

By October 1909 the Bureau was divided into Home and Foreign Sections.  The former was founded by Captain (later Major General) Vernon Kell; the latter was led by Mansfield Cumming, a 50-year-old Royal Navy officer, and inspiration for James Bond's "M".

The Secret Service Bureau was absorbed into the War Office in April 1914 for the duration of the First World War.  Kell’s Home Section became part of section 5 of the Directorate of Military Operations assuming the title MO5(g).  Two and a half years later, in September 1916, MO5(g) was moved to the newly established Directorate of Military Intelligence within the War Office.  It became the fifth branch of the War Office’s Directorate for Military Intelligence, hence the name MI5.  At the start of the First World War MI5 played a central role in the capture of most of Imperial Germany's intelligence agents in the UK.

Following the outbreak of war with Germany in 1914, the Foreign Section worked more closely with Military Intelligence.  Like its counterpart, in 1916 Foreign Section adopted the cover of “MI1(c)”, part of the War Office.  This cover name was just one of many used from its inception and through the Great War. Others included the “Foreign Intelligence Service”, the “Secret Service”, the “Special Intelligence Service” and even “C's organisation”.  Around 1920, the title “the Secret Intelligence Service” (or SIS) was adopted and has remained the official title ever since.

SIS’s sister organisation was renamed as the Defence Security Service in 1929.  Two years later this became the Security Service, the name by which it is still known today.  "MI5" continues to be widely used as a short alternative to the Service’s official name, while the use of “MI6” appears at the start of the Second World War when this abbreviation was adopted as a flag of convenience for the SIS.  It was used extensively throughout the war, especially if an organisational link needed to be made with MI5.  Indeed, by the end of the Second World War, 17 such “MI” branches had been created to perform a variety of functions, but of these only MI5 and SIS (MI6) still exist today.  Officially, however, “MI6” fell into disuse years ago, but many writers and journalists continue to use it to describe the SIS.

Strictly speaking, at no time have either organisation been known as “The Secret Service” despite this term being frequently and erroneously used in TV dramas and films.  The “Secret Service” is very definitely American. Officially called The United States Secret Service (USSS), or more commonly the Secret Service, it is a federal law enforcement agency controlled by the US Department of Homeland Security.  The Secret Service is charged with conducting criminal investigations and protecting the nation's leaders.  Until 2003, it was part of the US Department of the Treasury, as the agency was originally founded to combat the rampant counterfeiting of US currency after the American Civil War.  Over time the agency evolved into the United States' first domestic intelligence and counterintelligence agency.  Many of the it's missions were later taken over by subsequent agencies such as the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF), and IRS Criminal Investigation Division (IRS-CI).

Today the USSS’ investigative mission continues to safeguard the payment and financial systems of the United States from a wide range of financial and electronic-based crimes.  The agency also has a protective mission to ensure the safety of the President of the United States, the Vice President of the United States, the President’s and Vice President’s immediate families, former presidents, their spouses, and their minor children under the age of 16, major presidential and vice- presidential candidates and their spouses, and foreign heads of state.  The USSS also provides physical security for the White House Complex, the neighbouring Treasury Department building, the Vice President’s residence, and all foreign diplomatic missions in Washington, DC.