Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Sugar!

Our teeth would no doubt be better off if this had never been discovered, but Pandora's box was opened long ago. Different species of sugarcane were being harvested in the Indian subcontinent, New Guinea, Southeast Asia, and other places long before the Common Era.

An admiral of Alexander the Great learned of sugar on a campaign in India, so it was inevitable that sugar would make it to the Mediterranean area by traders. Pliny the Elder describes it in his Natural History, but not as a food:

Sugar is made in Arabia as well, but Indian sugar is better. It is a kind of honey found in cane, white as gum, and it crunches between the teeth. It comes in lumps the size of a hazelnut. Sugar is used only for medical purposes.

Crusaders brought sugar back to Europe from the Middle East, calling it "sweet salt." It was a common sweetener during the reign of Henry II, and Edward I imported a lot. Until the 1300s, it was affordable only by the wealthiest.

Venice saw its value and set up manufacturing in Lebanon, becoming the chief sugar distributor in 15th century Europe. Sugar was introduced to the Canary Islands and Madeira, after which Europe could get it more easily (but not necessarily cheaply). In the same year that Columbus sailed westward on his maiden voyage to the New World, Madeira produced 3,000,000 pounds of sugar.

Part of the allure of sugar was its reputed health properties. The Tacuinum sanitatis ("Maintenance of Health") of the 11th century has this advice about sugar:

Ask the grocer for refined sugar which is hard, white as salt, and brittle.  It has a cleansing effect on the body and benefits the chest, kidneys and bladder...It is good for the blood and therefore suitable for every temperament, age, season and place.

If it's that good for ill bodies, imagine what it could do for a body already healthy? There was plenty of inducement to enjoy sugar for its "healthful" effects.

You might guess that the Tacuinum sanitatis—considering its early provenance—was not a European text, and you'd be right. Let me tell you more about it tomorrow.

Thursday, June 22, 2023

A Jewish Physician

Article One of King Henry III's 1253 Statute of Jewry allowed Jews to stay in England so long as they served the king in some capacity. There were financial advantages to having Jews around, since they were not limited by the Biblical injunction against usury (charging high interest on loans) when lending to non-Jews. Usury created a dilemma for many: usury was not to be allowed, and yet Jewish lenders were an important source of funding for some.

Another dilemma for Christian Europeans in the Middle Ages was the idea that Jews were not to be fraternized with, and yet they were often the best physicians. One example of this was mentioned here, Jacob Mantino ben Samuel (died 1549).

Jacob's family was from Tortosa, Spain, but were forced to flee in 1492 because of the Alhambra Decree. Jacob studied medicine at Padua and Bologna, staying in Bologna to set up his practice. His translations of scientific works from Hebrew to Latin brought him to the attention of the court of Pope Clement VII. War in 1527 (between the Holy Roman Empire and Protestants) caused him to settle in Verona, where the Catholic bishop protected him. When the bishop went to Rome, however, Jacob left Verona and settled in Venice.

Jacob had many influential clients: ambassadors from France and England, papal dignitaries, and other wealthy local patrons. Despite medieval culture's antipathy toward Jews, his clients made an appeal to Venice's ruling Council of Ten. The appeal—which was granted—was to exempt Jacob from wearing the yellow that was intended to denote Jews in public. Originally this was temporary, but later was made permanent.

Jacob later went to Rome, acquiring great influence and becoming personal physician to Pope Paul III in 1534. In 1544 he returned to Venice, where once again he was exempted from wearing yellow. Accompanying the Venetian ambassador to Damascus, he died in 1549.

Why was he exempted from wearing yellow? Was it a desire on the part of his clients to not be seen associating with a Jew? Or was it for a slightly more kind-hearted reason: they understood the insult of being forced to wear yellow and wanted to spare the feelings of a man they had come to respect? Perhaps a little of both. He was not unique in the Middle Ages: Jewish doctors and Jewish medicine were regarded very highly. We'll delve into that a little more deeply tomorrow.

Friday, June 9, 2023

The Medieval Slave Trade, Part 1

We should probably start by pointing out the misleading nature of the illustration [MS. Ludwig XIV 6, c.1290-1310, from Aragon]. Depictions of slavery in the 13th and 14th centuries more often than not show dark-skinned subjects. The truth is that sub-Saharan Africa was not a common source of slaves for traders.

Long before nations gathered to develop the concept of "universal human rights," treating outsiders with far less regard than your own countrymen was standard practice. Slavery in medieval Europe was a natural extension of the Roman Empire's policy of conquering new lands and taking their inhabitants for purposes of labor and entertainment. Slavery was built into the legal system: a slave's worth, what was allowable for slaves, how they could be traded or freed, etc. Wales in the 10th century had laws set down by Hywel Dda (he was mentioned back in January), and the Visigoths used slavery for criminals who could not pay fines.

One "softening" of the slave trade was promoted by the Roman Catholic Church, who worked to prevent slavery of "co-religionists." St. Patrick, who had been a slave, argues in a letter to British chieftain Coroticus against making captured people slaves because sinners are already slaves to the devil:

I am at a loss to know whether to weep more for those they killed or those that are captured: or indeed for these men themselves whom the devil has taken fast for his slaves. In truth, they will bind themselves alongside him in the pains of the everlasting pit: for "he who sins is a slave already" and is to be called "son of the devil." [source]

About 10% of the population of England were slaves at the time of the Domesday Book, although the word used to denote a slave, servus, was also used for those who we now know to be serfs.

Because of the church's opposition to selling Christians to non-Christians, other sources were sought. For Venice, this meant capturing Slavs and eastern European pagans to sell to Muslims. Caravans of slaves would be led through Austria to reach Venice. A document that surfaced in 1250 in Bavaria records the tolls paid in the opening years of the 10th century for crossing the Danube; they include salt, weapons, wax, horses, and more, including slaves on their way from Bohemia and the Kievan Rus to Italy.

Genoa and Venice both sold slaves around the Black Sea starting in the 13th century, selling to Muslims those from Baltic, Slavic, Armenian, Georgian, and Turkish lands. Genoa did a lot of business from Crimea to the Mamluks in Egypt who were originally slaves themselves. Amalfi, on the southwestern coast of Italy, was a major exporter of slaves to North Africa.

This focus on Italian cities is unfair, since so many other countries bought and sold slaves. This topic will go on for another couple posts, at least. Stay tuned.

Thursday, June 8, 2023

The Republic of Venice

The Republic of Venice lasted from its establishment in 697 until 12 May 1797 when Napoleon conquered Venice and the last doge stepped down. In its 1100 years, it dominated the Adriatic Sea, provided countless ships for the Crusades, and was one of the most powerful trading entities and maritime powers in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. Marco Polo's uncles were Venetian traders; accompanying them is why we know who he was.

Venice started simply because the Venetian Lagoon was the easiest way to flee from Germanic tribes invading after the decline of the Roman Empire. Those in the lagoon formed a community that grew, formed laws, and became the city of Venice.

The historian John Deacon in the 11th century stated that a certain Paolo Lucio Anafesto was proclaimed dux or duke in 697, making him the first Doge of Venice. This is disputed, since Constantinople (with Rome's fall, the Byzantine Empire had more authority over the former Roman Empire) confirmed Orso Ipato with the title dux in the early 8th century. He is seen as the first official Doge. Although Orso's son Deusdedit ruled after him, any attempt to create a dynastic rulership ultimately failed. The Doges were elected for life by the Great Council of Venice, a parliament of aristocrats and merchants.

Venice was recognized as its own entity, separate from the Byzantine Empire, in 840 when it signed a commercial agreement with Lothair I of the Carolingian Empire. This Pactum Lotharii asked that Venice help control the Slavic tribes to the east; in return, Venice was safe from invasion from the Frankish Empire. The Pact also forbade the sale of Christians to Muslims. Venice had established a thriving slave trade, capturing people in Italy and selling them to Moors in North Africa. After the Pact, Venice captured Slavs and other Eastern European non-Christians. Records show a female slave was worth 1.5 grams of gold, or about 1/3 of a dinar. Castration houses were a business in Venice, preparing slaves because of the high demand for eunuchs.

Another big business was ship-building, and Venice perfected this process in a big way. Ships were important for moving everything, including thousands of willing passengers from Europe to the east during the Crusades. Venice was involved in just about every Crusade, providing (renting) ships to the ventures. The Fourth Crusade was particularly crucial in this regard, with the Doge Enrico Dandolo taking over the Crusade and using it for his own ends.

I suppose this is a good time to segue to a larger discussion of the medieval slave trade. Venice was not alone in this lucrative market, as you will see.

Wednesday, June 7, 2023

The Adriatic

From Venice in the north to the heel of Italy's boot, the Adriatic offers access to the Mediterranean for many Italian cities, as well as Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Montenegro, and Slovenia. In the Middle Ages and Renaissance, however, much of its eastern coastline was controlled by the Republic of Venice, blocking much of the Ottoman Empire from access.

The Romans established a naval base in (what is now) Brindisi  (at the heel) in 246 BCE, partially to block Carthaginian ships from entering the Adriatic, and partially to deal with the Illyrians. Illyrians inhabited the eastern side of the Sea and acted as pirates to traders. Rome and Illyria fought on and off from 229-168 BCE.

After the decline of Rome, the coasts were ruled by the Byzantine Empire under Justinian, the Lombards, and the Ostrogoths. A few centuries later, with the rise of the Carolingians, the Frankish Kingdom of Italy controlled the western coasts and the Byzantines kept control of the eastern. It was around this time (700) that the Republic of Venice was founded. They thrived early on because of the salt trade, eventually developing a thalassocracy, a maritime empire known more for its presence on the sea than for possession of land.

In 999 CE, the Normans conquered southern Italy, eventually establishing the Kingdom of Sicily. Against this growing power, Alexios I of Constantinople issued a Golden Bull to Venice, offering them tax-free trading with the Byzantine Empire if their navy would control the spread of Normans.

The Adriatic was controlled by the Republic of Venice for centuries after that, and we will look at the Republic a little closer tomorrow.

Friday, October 31, 2014

A King in Hiding

Władysław III of Poland was born on 31 October 1424. He was named King of Poland when he was 10 years old and King of Hungary at the age of 16.

Very young kings are usually surrounded by advisors who often want to enjoy and consolidate their own power, rather than offer unselfish loyalty to king and country. Cardinal Olešnicki ran the country more than Władysław did, insulating the young king from reality and the ability to make sound judgments.

Therefore, when Władysław was 18 and had become King of Hungary after a two-year war (the widow of the previous king wanted to keep the throne for her infant son and not see it go to a Polish monarch), he decided to keep his army together and attempt a greater prize.

The Christian Władysław decided it would be a glorious undertaking to attack the pagan Turks in a crusade, breaking a ten-year truce with the powerful Ottoman Empire. Plans were made, and promises were gathered from Venice and papal forces for help. Unfortunately for Władysław, the mercenary Venetians also had an arrangement with the Turks, and used their fleet to ferry 60,000 Turks from Asia to where Władysław's army (of only 20,000) was camped. The end result was the Battle of Varna on 10 November 1444. The Polish army was defeated soundly and Władysław was beheaded.

...or was he?

Rumors that his head was taken to the Ottoman court are not substantiated. His own forces never found his body. A strange Portuguese legend accounts this. Supposedly, Władysław, ashamed of starting a disastrous war on false pretenses, snuck away from the losing battle and wandered as an ordinary pilgrim to the Holy Land, looking for forgiveness. He became a Knight of Saint Catherine of Mount Sinai. He later traveled to Madeira (an island west of Portugal) to live a quiet life, becoming known as Henry the German. Hearing the rumor that Władysław was alive and hiding in Madeira, a group of Polish monks traveled to investigate. They were satisfied that he was Władysław, but he would not be persuaded to return to Poland and ascend the throne.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Stealing St. Nicholas' Relics

The crypt of St. Nicholas in Bari
The city of Bari is located in southern Italy, right at the "Achilles Heel" so to speak. This blog has mentioned it as the final resting place in 1087 of most of the bones of St. Nicholas, but we haven't talked about the details of how they got there.

The relics were originally held in the city of Myra in Lycia (Nicholas was the Bishop of Myra; Myra was in what is now Turkey), but their existence was threatened by the expansion westward by the Turks. Merchants from Bari decided the relics weren't safe, so they sailed to Myra to take matters (and the relics) into their own hands. The Bari merchants hired Venetians to take them to Myra.

Two men left the ship to visit the Church of St. Nicholas to see how well the relics were guarded. They found only four monks tending the relics, so they returned to the ship and brought over 40 armed men to the Church. Suspecting nothing amiss, the monks and guards showed the merchants and their men the platform under which the relics rested, and where pilgrims were anointed with the "Oil of Saints" from the relics.

The Barians offered 300 gold coins in exchange for the relics, but were refused. They bound the monks and guards, and proceeded to take apart the platform to get at the relics. The relics were wrapped in cloth and carried to the ship. The monks, however, having been set free when the deed was done, alerted the town; the townspeople flocked to the shore, but the ship was already sailing. This was on 20 April. The ship arrived in Bari on 8 May 1087.

Carrying the relics to the church of St. Stephen the next day* caused many miraculous healings along the way. The following year, Bari built a church dedicated to St. Nicholas, where the relics have remained ever since.

*9 May became a special feast day for St. Nicholas in the Russian Orthodox Church.

Friday, June 27, 2014

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Part 2

[see Part 1 here]
From Venice to Zara, and later to Constantinople
Those members of the 4th Crusade who went to Venice were lodged on the island called St. Nicholas. When it was discovered that they did not have enough money to fulfill their part of the contract with Venice, they were stuck on St. Nicholas until some agreement was reached. According to the chronicle of Geoffrey de Villehardouin, Doge Enrico Dandolo said to his people:
"The King of Hungary has taken from us Zara in Sclavonia [...]; and never shall we recover it with all the power that we possess, save with the help of these people. Let us therefore ask them to help us to reconquer it, and we will remit the payment of the debt of 34,000 marks of silver, until such time as it shall please God to allow us to gain the moneys by conquest, we and they together." [source]
There was a great deal of disagreement over this among the Crusaders—Simon de Montfort was one voice in opposition—although it was finally ratified. There were two major objections against it: 1) it was a distraction from the crucial major goal, and 2) Zara was a Christian city; to attack it when your purpose was to fight heretics was outrageous!

The Doge then increased the stakes. At a Mass at St. Mark with Venetians and Crusaders present, Enrico Dandolo (who was at least in his 80s, and blind) swore to join them and take up the Cross if they consented to let him be their leader. The Crusaders accepted gladly, and more Venetians joined the Crusade.

The Crusading force sailed to Zara, and set up a siege. Certain leaders of Zara came to the Doge and said they would hand over the city if their lives were spared. Dandolo said he would discuss these terms with the rest of the Crusade; while he did, Villehardouin tells us that the Crusading faction that was opposed to fighting Christians told the Zarans that the Crusade would never attack a Christian city, and they could resist in safety. Also, the Abbot of Vaux (a Crusader) forbade the army from attacking Zara.

But attack they did. Dandolo was enraged that he had a deal with Zara that was foiled by others.  The siege brought up mangonels and other weapons. They pelted the walls and towers with stones for five days, and had sappers start on one wall and a tower.* This was enough to motivate Zara to surrender.

By this time winter was approaching, and the Doge decided they should stay in Zara until spring. There were troubles in Zara, between the different nationalities, but that is not part of our narrative. What must be mentioned is that Pope Innocent III excommunicated the Crusaders for attacking a Christian city.

The worst is yet to come. To understand it, however, we must turn aside to a case of royal family strife in Constantinople. [to be continued]

*Sappers would dig under a structure to cause it to collapse; sometimes they employed explosives.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Part 1

The Kingdom of Jerusalem, established after the First Crusade by Europeans, had been re-conquered by Saladin in 1187. Much of that was reclaimed by the Third Crusade (1189-1192), but Jerusalem itself eluded recapture. This was a problem for Europeans.

The Doge of Venice makes an offer to the 4th Crusade
In 1198, Pope Innocent III began his papacy with the preaching of a new crusade. At first, no one was rushing to join. England and France were busy fighting each other, Germany was opposed to recent papal overreach, and it was only a few years since the last Crusade—people were tired, and Crusades took energy and money. Innocent had an ally in the charismatic Fulk of Neuilly (about whom we know almost nothing outside of this sentence), who preached the Crusade and drew several to it, including Simon de Montfort, 5th Earl of Leicester.

Moving thousands of men, servants, supplies, et cetera, takes a lot of ships, and a handful of men were sent to the Mediterranean coast to negotiate for ships to transport the Crusading army to the Holy Land. Geoffrey de Villehardouin, one of the six envoys, wrote a lengthy chronicle telling the story. In Venice, they put their need before Doge Enrico Dandolo and the Venetian council, and received this answer:
"We will build transports to carry 4500 horses, and 9000 squires, and ships for 4500 knights, and 20,000 sergeants of foot. And we will agree also to purvey food for these horses and people during nine months. This is what we undertake to do at the least, on condition that you pay us for each horse four marks, and for each man two marks.
"And the covenants we are now explaining to you, we undertake to keep, wheresoever we may be, for a year, reckoning from the day on which we sail from the port of Venice in the service of God and of Christendom. Now the sum total of the expenses above named amounts to 85,000 marks.
"And this will we do moreover. For the love of God, we will add to the fleet 50 armed galleys on condition that, so long as we act in company, of all conquests in land or money, whether at sea or on dry ground, we shall have the half, and you the other half. Now consult together to see if you, on your parts, can accept and fulfil these covenants." [source]
The envoys agreed to these terms, and returned to France to inform the leaders of the Crusade of their success. The army was gathered and a start date was set for the following year.

According to Geoffrey, a large number of Crusaders went, not to Venice, but to the port of Marseille, or Genoa, or other ports. (To be honest: Marseille makes sense if you're starting out in France; why have to cross the Alps and go to Venice?) Perhaps the envoys should have haggled for a lower price for transports; after all, Venice was going to get half of any spoils of war.

Whatever the case, when the Crusaders arrived in Venice, there were not as many as advertised, and they could only gather 35,000 marks, a far cry from the 85,000 of the contract. They had been assembled on the island of St. Nicholas to avoid the overcrowding and potential problems of having thousands of strangers on the streets of Venice, but this effectively made them captives of Venice. Venice did not want to cancel the contract: they would lose all the money they had invested, and Venice' reputation might suffer. They had to come up with a solution that allowed the Crusaders to continue on their journey and that was financially satisfactory for Venice.

...and that's exactly what they did. [to be continued]

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Enrico Dandolo

This past Saturday, the 21st of June, was the anniversary of the death of Enrico Dandolo, the 42nd Doge of Venice. His tenure as Doge had great significance for Venice, and had disastrous consequences for Constantinople.

Born about 1107, he had a successful career as a diplomat who came to true prominence in 1171 when Constantinople imprisoned all Venetians and confiscated their property. The Doge at the time, Doge Vitale II Michiel, gathered a force to attack Constantinople, but the plan failed when plague in 1172 killed many in the expedition. Michiel was killed on his return to Venice by the angry citizenry, but the returning Enrico Dandolo was made ambassador to Constantinople. A treaty was finally brokered in 1186, but the enmity between Venice and Constantinople remained, as we shall see.

In 1192, Dandolo became the 42nd Doge. By this time, he was in his 80s* and blind—one contemporary chronicler (Geoffrey de Villehardouin) claimed it was due to a head wound—but his cleverness made him the popular choice, and his actions over the next decade justified it. He reformed Venetian currency, creating new coins of different denominations. One coin, the grosso, was consistently minted with 98.5% pure silver, making it a reliable standard for trade in the Mediterranean and increasing the economic prestige of Venice.

His biggest impact on history, however, came during the 4th Crusade. In the next few posts we will take a look at the 4th Crusade and why it went horribly wrong.

*This is an assumption; one scholar believes he has clear evidence for 1107 as the year of Dandolo's birth, but the level of activity he showed after becoming Doge prompts some to think he must have been a younger man.

Monday, June 23, 2014

The Doge of Venice

Doxe de Venexia.
Doge di Venezia.
The Doge of Venice.

The title is based on the Latin dux ["military leader"], from which the word "duke" comes. The Doge was not a hereditary position, but was elected for life (unless circumstances led to being forcibly ejected from the position), usually from the pool of very smart elders.

The Chronicon Venetum ["Chronicle of Venice"] by John the Deacon says the first Doge was elected about 700 as part of Venice's development as a Republic and to oversee the rivalries between the tribunes (the small number of elected positions that shared the rule of Venice). The first Doge was Paolo Lucio Anafesto (697-717) (but there is a lot of doubt as to the accuracy of this; that name is known to be the same as the Exarchate [ruler] of Ravenna.)

Some notable Doges:
Agnello Participazio (811-827), who was exiled to Zara by his son, Giustiniano, who became Doge
Pietro IV Candiano (959-976), who gave himself special privileges and powers with the support of Otto I, but lost that protection after Otto died, and found himself locked in his palace by the citizens of Venice, who then set fire to it.
Pietro II Orseolo (991-1009), who expanded Venice's influence eastward, freeing Venice from 50 years of taxation imposed by the Narentines on the east coast of the Adriatic Sea; he married the niece of Pietro IV Orseolo, Maria Candino, who became his dogaressa.

There were 120 Doges in all, the final one being Ludovico Manin (1789-1797), who was forced out of the role (never to be replaced) by Napoleon.

But the shrewdest old Doge of them all may have been the 42nd, Enrico Dandolo, who took over a Crusade and used at as a weapon for his own purposes. That's a story for tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

The Crimea

The much-disputed Crimean Peninsula
On the north coast of the Black Sea, a peninsula extends from the southern part of Ukraine. If you look at enough of its history, you will find numerous occupants: Turks and Italians, Greeks and Goths, Huns and Scythians and Bulgars. One of the earliest occupants of the peninsula were the Cimmerians, an Indo-European tribe that lived there long before the Common Era, presumably driven south by the Scythians from their homeland north of the Caucasus. For a long time it was called Taurica after the Taures, a Cimmerian group. The best guess regarding the derivation of "Crimea" is that it comes from "Cimmerian."

Invasions took place throughout the Classical and Medieval Eras. A group now referred to as Crimean Tatars (descendants of the Mongols of Genghis Khan fame) thrived there in the Middle Ages. Despite their numbers, the Tatars did not always control the territory. Venice created several settlements on the coast in order to control trade on the Black Sea; these were taken over by Genoa in the 13th century and controlled by them for the next two centuries.

...and here's an interesting tie-in to one of the best-known events of the Middle Ages. The first appearance of the Black Death in medieval Europe came on twelve Genoese ships coming from the east in October 1347 and landing in Sicily. It is entirely possible that Crimean ports were the source of the Plague.

In the era of Tamerlane, the Crimean Tatars finally asserted control over most of the area—except the Genoese towns—establishing the Crimean Khanate in 1441 under the rule of a descendant of Genghis Khan. The Genoese towns were finally captured, but not by the Tatars. The Ottoman Empire conquered the Genoese towns, then took the current Crimean Khan captive. He was released after the Tatars recognized the sovereignty of the Ottomans.

In the late 1700s, a treaty between the warring Russian and Ottoman Empires left the Crimean Peninsula in the hands of Russia, one step closer to the present controversy.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Assembly Line

Detail of the Venetian Arsenal from theCivitates Orbis Terrarum [1572]
When we think of Venice and boats, we think of gondolas being poled through quiet canals. Venice, however, was a powerful presence in the Mediterranean not because of gondolas but because of larger ships that transported people—either for military or religious purposes.*

At some point—possibly in the very early 1100s during the reign of Doge Ordelafo Faliero, or perhaps even earlier—a complex of state-owned shipyards was begun, called the Arsenale di Venezia ["Venetian Arsenal"]. It was designed to provide private shipbuilders with a facility to produce ships for themselves or the state. In 1320, the complex was upgraded to the Nuovo Arsenale ["New Arsenal"] as a place to "build and maintain navy and merchant ships, all in one location." [source]

The Arsenal is probably the first example of large-scale factory work prior to the Industrial Revolution. The complex grew to cover 110 acres, and had a forest dedicated to its lumber needs. The workers, called arsenalotti, numbered in the thousands at the height of production and were said to be able to produce a ship in less than 24 hours. One of their techniques was to build the frame first rather than the hull first. Once the frame was finished, different crews could move in with their pre-fabricated parts for assembly. Rigging, sails, weapons, etc., were prepared by separate teams for the appropriate type of vessel. Dante even mentions this process in Canto xxi of Inferno. These specialists also made improvements in technology, particularly in weaponry. Gunpowder weapons—bombards and handguns—were a particular interest.

Much of the complex is now in ruins, but you can see the Porta Magna, the "Great Gate" that provided the seaward entrance, here.

*Some day I promise to get to my favorite Crusade, the 4th, and how it went horribly wrong.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Ethiopian Connection

In the Middle Ages, the evidence suggests that Ethiopia was a Christian nation surrounded by hostile Muslim territories. Medieval manuscripts explain that there was a Solomonic dynasty in Ethiopia—that is, the heirs of King Solomon, descended from the son born to the Queen of Sheba. Unprovable, but it would explain the Christian presence in that part of the world. In fact, "Dawit I" is what he is called in the West; Ethiopian sources call him "Dawit II," because they consider the first "Dawit" to be King David.

One of the members of the heirs of Solomon was Dawit I (1382-1413). There are stories that Dawit led armies against his Muslim neighbors to the east, and that he also advanced against the emir that held Egypt at the time, until the emir asked the Patriarch of Alexandria to tell Dawit to cease in order to preserve the peace in the kingdom.

There is also reason to believe that he was in communication with Europe, making a request to Venice to send him artisans for the beautification of his realm. Documentary evidence exists that this request reached Venice in June 1402, and that 5 artisans did leave for Ethiopia.

We don't know if they ever arrived, but we can turn to circumstantial evidence. The Portugese missionary and explorer, Francisco Álvares (c.1465-c.1540), claims to have seen a Venetian chalice during his six years in Ethiopia. Also, an unsigned manuscript exists that documents a trip from Venice to Rhodes, Cyprus, Jerusalem, Cairo, and finally to the court of Prester John at Shewa, a region in Ethiopia that has Addis Ababa (Ethiopia's modern capital) at its center. (Prester John was often said to have his kingdom "in India"; for most Europeans, however, geography outside of Europe was a pretty vague topic. You can learn more about Prester John here and here). This itinerary shows an unambiguous knowledge of the stages of a journey from Venice to Ethiopia, suggesting that perhaps the legend of Dawit's interest in European artwork was based on truth.

Alas, Dawit died young, kicked in the head by a horse. He is interred at a monastery on Daga Island in Lake Tana, the source of the Blue Nile, along with other members of his dynasty.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Marco! Polo!

Today is the 758th anniversary (according to tradition) of the birth of Marco Polo (1254-1324). Son of a wealthy Venetian merchant who traded with the Middle East, Marco might have simply grown up to follow his father's footsteps, but he instead followed a different set of footsteps: at the age of 17 he accompanied his father and uncle to Asia.

At the time, Marco's father and uncle had just returned from a trip to the East. They brought with them a letter from Kublai Khan of the Mongols (1215-1294), to be delivered to the Pope, requesting 100 missionaries and oil from the lamp of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. In 1275, after a three-year journey, the two Polos and Niccolo's son Marco delivered the oil to the Khan. There, we are told, the Khan took a liking to Marco. Marco returned 24 years later to find Venice at war with Genoa; Marco was imprisoned by Genoan authorities because of his participation in a naval battle, and spent his time in prison dictating an account of his travels. The rest, as they say, is history.

But what about history before Marco?

Trade between East and West at this time benefited from the Mongol Expansion (c.1207-1360), because it broke the monopoly on trade routes enjoyed by the Islamic Caliphate. Marco's family was well situated for these travels. His grandfather, Andrea Polo of San Felice, was noble and well-off. Andrea set up his three sons (Marco, young Marco's father Niccolo, and Matteo*) in commerce. They had offices in Constantinople and at Sudak on the Black Sea. Niccolo and Matteo had met Kublai Khan when, on a trading expedition, they met up with his envoys who were returning from visiting the Khan's brother Hulagu in Persia. The Polos were persuaded to make the journey to Cathay to meet the Khan. It was Kublai's first meeting with Europeans, and he was fascinated by what they had to tell him about Europe and the Latin West. He asked them to take his request to their Pope; he wanted to learn all about Christianity and the liberal arts of the growing university system.

Marco Polo's travels
Upon returning home, the brothers discovered that Niccolo's wife had died, leaving Marco to be raised by relatives. Pope Clement IV had died and a new pope had not yet been chosen. After two more years with still no papal successor in place, the brothers decided they could wait no longer, and headed East with young Marco. They stopped at Acre and consulted with the papal legate Teobaldo Visconti, who gave them letters for the Khan explaining why their commission failed. They continued East.

Not long after, however, they learned that Teobaldo himself had been named pope, and they turned back to Acre and managed to get communications to and from him. Now, as Pope Gregory X (c.1210-1276), he could only offer a couple Dominicans. These Dominicans lost heart in Armenia when they ran into the troops of a sultan, and turned back for home.

The Khan was pleased to see the Venetians, who did not return to Europe for many years. According to Marco's account, not only did he see coal and paper money for the first time, but he was made governor of Yang-chow, with 27 cities under him, for three years, and given several missions by the Khan to visit other areas in Asia and return with information. It was more than 20 years before the Khan gave them permission to return home.

People of his era had a difficult time believing the stories he told. Later scholars had an even more difficult time: why did he never mention chopsticks in all that time? Or the Great Wall? But the Great Wall was a work in progress, much of which was only built after Marco's time there. And perhaps chopsticks weren't an impressive enough difference to bother reporting; after all, his was a Europe still only slowly adopting the use of the fork.

But, embellishments or not, his name is famous—even if children who play it in a swimming pool have no idea who he was. (And some day soon I'll tell you about the "Reverse Marco Polo," Rabban bar Sauma.)

*Half the sources call him "Maffeo"

Monday, August 27, 2012

Patent Law

With the world of technology enjoying heated debate over the Apple vs. Samsung patent ruling, I thought it would be interesting to look at the history of patents.
A 1381 letter patent for transfer of property, with king's seal.

According to American classical scholar Charles Anthon (1797-1867), the first known patent was granted in 500BCE in Sybaris in southern Italy. He tells us:
encouragement was held out to all who should discover any new refinement in luxury, the profits arising from which were secured to the inventor by patent for the space of a year. [Classical Dictionary, 1841]
In medieval Europe, the phrase "letter(s) patent" came into use to distinguish the decree from a "charter." The charter generally declared a law or right that was granted to a family or institution in perpetuity. The letter(s) patent declared a right to an individual and was of a finite duration. The letter patent was sent open, so that all could see it and be aware of the legal action it portended; this was distinct from "letters close," a private letter sent from a royal personage or from the chancery.

Letters patent were very specific, and the king was willing to grant them because he usually saw benefit from them. So, in 1331, Edward III grants a patent to John Kempe, a Flemish weaver, as an inducement for skilled foreign labor to settle in England and instruct the English in advanced textile-related techniques. This, of course, would greatly benefit the economy of England in the future. Note that this was not a patent (in the current sense) for protection on an invention; it was a letter of "protection" to allow a foreign worker to ply his trade without threat from rival local workers.

The idea of a "patent" in the modern sense—the right to use your own invention in public without fear that someone would copy it and benefit from it—comes a little later. In 1421, Florentine architect Filippo Brunelleschi (1377-1446) received a three-year patent granting him exclusivity on his invention: a barge with a hoisting device to transport slabs of marble. A generation later, in 1449, Henry VI of England granted what is considered the first true English patent to John of Utynam for his method of making colored glass. John, a Flanders native like Kempe, got 20 years of exclusive benefit for his methods; his first commission was to make windows for Eton College.

In 1474, Venice declared that any new inventions must be presented to the public so that the inventor could be granted the right to prevent their theft by others. This is considered the beginning of the modern approach to patents.