We have 4 kids 6 y/o and under and our youngest is 4 months. It’s hard to put him down without him crying so that we can tend to other things. But for some reason, he is completely transfixed by this @VDHanson lecture for @Hillsdale and @hillsdaleonline about classical Athens.
While returning to England, Richard was captured and eventually turned over to, and held captive by, Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich VI. The Holy Roman Empire at the time roughly corresponded to modern day Germany, Austria, and northern Italy, but Heinrich had designs on expanding south, something that Richard had interfered with during his activities in Sicily and Cyprus. When asked to show submission to the Holy Roman Emperor, Richard stated, “I am born of a rank which recognizes no superior but God.”
While his mother Eleanor was busy raising a ransom for Richard’s freedom, Richard’s brother John and King Philip attempted to pay Heinrich to keep Richard in captivity. Heinrich ultimately released Richard upon payment of a massive ransom, after which Philip warned John that “the devil is loose.” Upon returning to England, Richard forgave John -- very likely at the behest of his mother -- but he did not offer any such forgiveness to Philip. Over the next several years, Richard fought and won several battles against Philip, culminating in Philip fleeing and leaving behind his valuable siege machines, baggage train, and royal documents, all of which were kept by Richard. Some accounts say that the royal documents revealed for Richard the names of the French spies in his own ranks.
Despite all of Richard’s tales of war and glory, his fatal wound came while he was besieging a castle during a fairly routine revolt. During sieges, soldiers in the besieged castle would frequently take pot shots with crossbows at the siege force, but the siege force would stay far enough away that these shots were largely ignored. One shot, however, just happened to strike Richard in the shoulder -- meaning that Richard was not wearing his armor, likely because he did not think he could be hit from such a distance. To make matters worse, the fatal wound came from a stray arrow fired by a man wielding a crossbow in one hand and a frying pan in the other. The bowman was said to have been dancing on the castle ramparts all day, and was also said to have been deflecting arrows with the frying pan while firing back at Richard’s forces.
When the wound turned gangrenous, it became certain that Richard would die, at which point his mother rushed to be with him in his final days. As one of Richard’s final acts, he summoned the bowman to his deathbed and pardoned him. Some histories say that the pardon was upheld, but others say that the bowman was killed in a very brutal manner that I will not discuss here.
Richard’s death was a monumental moment in European history, as he died with no child as an heir. This meant that the throne of England, and therefore also the throne of Normandy, went to his brother John, the same brother John who had conspired against Richard while he was off on the Third Crusade. King John was very much the runt of Eleanor’s litter, and he had a complex to boot. His reign was disastrous, and a weak English king on the throne played an important role in the ascendance of France as a major European power.
King John’s disastrous reign and defeat at the hands of the French led to dissent and rebellion among his own nobles, who in 1215 forced him to sign the Magna Carta. One can hardly imagine Richard being forced by his nobles to do much of anything, and had a king like Richard been on the throne in 1215, the history of the Magna Carta -- and therefore the history of the English and American Constitutions -- might have been very different. We’ll never know what would have happened, but had Richard survived and had heirs other than John, Europe and the world as we know it might be a very different place.
On this day in 1199, Richard I, or Richard Lionheart, died in the arms of his mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, in Châlus, France. He died in one of the worst ways imaginable, being slowly killed by a gangrenous wound at a time when painkillers and antibiotics did not exist. Despite his painful death, Richard’s life was incredibly interesting, and while I would not have wanted to live in a country ruled by Richard, his story, like that of his mother, was made of the stuff that inspires modern high fantasy.
Histories written about Richard almost always have to be read through a certain lens, because the people writing about him frequently had an agenda. Interestingly, some of the most even-handed accounts we get about Richard Lionheart come from some of his greatest enemies -- the Muslims led by Saladin during the Third Crusade. One Muslim historian wrote, “Never have we had to face a bolder or more subtle opponent.”
Another account of Richard during the Third Crusade has him riding his horse up and down the front lines of the Muslim forces, carrying a lance, and challenging any man to single combat. Much to Saladin's shame, not a single soldier took Richard up on his challenge. Had this account been found in an English history, one might question whether it ever happened. But the account is only found in one place -- the Muslim history of the Third Crusade.
As to the European histories, those of Richard's French contemporaries almost certainly embellish his flaws. The weak King Philip II of France knew that Richard was everything he himself was not, and to add insult to injury, Richard was one of the many sons that Eleanor bore to Henry II after Philip’s father, King Louis, dismissed Eleanor due to her supposed inability to produce male heirs. To make matters worse, Richard, who had been betrothed to Philip’s sister Alys from the age of nine, broke that betrothal in 1191 but managed to keep the dowry lands that he had received through the betrothal. History bears out the fact that Philip hated Richard even more than the Muslims against whom all of Christendom were supposedly united. While Richard was off on the Third Crusade, Philip — in direct violation of the Vatican’s command — conspired with Richard’s brother John and attacked Richard’s holdings in northwest France. Frequent meddling by Richard's European rivals kept him from being able to fully focus his resources on retaking Jerusalem and establishing a European kingdom in the Middle East.
The fact that Richard never got to put all of his focus into his crusade helped shape the Middle East as we know it today. While en route to Israel, he participated in political upheavals in Sicily and Cyprus, each of which could inspire its own modern screenplay. In Israel, Richard’s forces won several victories against those of Saladin, bringing him within sight of Jerusalem. Richard proposed taking the city by way of invading the center of Muslim power in Egypt, forcing Saladin to divide his attention and weakening the Islamic grasp on Israel. However, Richard’s French detractors took the opportunity to accuse Richard of cowardice and a lack of true faith in the crusade. Following more skirmishes with Saladin, Richard was forced to return to France to deal with the conspiracy against him between his brother John and King Philip of France. One can only imagine how history might have been different had the entire European contingent supported Richard in his invasion of Egypt. As things stood, he was able to use his army’s proximity to Jerusalem to negotiate a three-year peace, during which Christian pilgrims were allowed to enter the Muslim-held city of Jerusalem.
We say "Beware the Ides of March" to commemorate March 15, 44 BC, when Julius Caesar was assassinated by senators who feared that his consolidation of power would spell the end of the Roman republic. But maybe Caesar should have been weary not only the 15th of March, but also the 15th of February, as it was perhaps on that day that his fate was truly sealed.
On February 15, 44 BC, Marc Antony (at that time one of Caesar's chief supporters) was running partially naked through the streets of Rome. While it would not have necessarily been unlike Marc Antony to just be running naked through the streets, at least this time he was doing so while taking part in the traditional Roman festival of Lupercalia. Caesar, who was always careful to publicly disclaim any ambitions to be named king of Rome, sat in the forum on a chair that looked very much like a throne wearing robes that looked very much like royal garb. In what many believe was a pre-arranged stunt, Antony ran up to Caesar with a diadem (that looked very much like a crown), kneeled before Caesar, and made a show of offering the diadem to Caesar. Planted supporters of Caesar applauded, hoping to stir the rest of the crowd to join them in encouraging Caesar to don the crown. But the rest of the crowd looked on in stunned silence.
Caesar, ever the politician, saw the reaction of the crowd and quickly declared that Jupiter alone deserved a crown, at which point the crowd erupted in applause.
Some in Rome viewed this (probably correctly) as Caesar attempting to test the waters of how the people would react to him declaring himself king. While it's not possible to know the exact thought processes of people who lived two thousand years ago, it is likely not a coincidence that the conspiracy to assassinate Caesar accelerated and ultimately coalesced in the month following Lupercalia.
We can't say "Beware the Ides of February," as the Ides of February is February 13th, not 15th. And "Beware February 15th" doesn't have the same ring to it as "Beware the Ides of March." I checked to see if February 15th actually does have a cool sounding moniker, and all I could find was that it is Susan B. Anthony Day. And I don't think it would be well-taken if I walked around saying "Beware Susan B. Anthony Day."
So, I guess we'll stick with: "Beware the Ides of March!"
On this day in 1943, Charles Brown was piloting his B-17 flying fortress back towards base following a successful bombing run on an aircraft factory in the German city of Bremen. His plane, Ye Olde Pub, had fallen out of formation and lost several of its engines, having suffered severe damage during the mission. Many of Brown’s crew were bloody and wounded, with one crew member having been completed decapitated by anti-aircraft fire.
German pilot Franz Stigler easily caught up to the damaged bomber in his Bf 109, a capable German fighter. He intended to shoot down the American plane before it could escape German airspace. Already an ace with 27 victories, Stigler surely could have made short work of the damaged American plane and its remaining crew.
However, upon reaching the damaged American plane, Stigler could see its bloodied crew through gaping holes in the fuselage. At that moment, he recalled the words of his former commanding officer, Gustav Rodel: "If I ever see or hear of you shooting at a man in a parachute, I will shoot you myself." Stigler later explained: "To me, it was just like they were in a parachute. I saw them, and I couldn't shoot them down.
Brown was not sure what to make of the German fighter flying directly off his port wing. Stigler later explained that his intention was to fly so close to the American plane that German anti-air gunners would not risk hitting their own pilot. Brown ordered one of his gunners to train his sights on Stigler, but not fire. Once the American bomber was out of German airspace, Stigler saluted Brown, and departed.
At his post-mission briefing, Brown explained that a German fighter pilot had let him go. Brown and his crew were sworn to secrecy as to not risk Stigler being punished or executed for his actions. Stigler went on to become the pilot of one of Germany's Me-262's, the first fighter jets ever used in combat.
Thanks in large part to the mercy of a German pilot that he did not know, Brown survived the war, and in 1950 he married Delores Jackie. Charles and Delores had two daughters, leading to Brown later having grandchildren.
In 1986, Brown told his story at a veterans event, and afterwards wondered if he could find this unnamed German pilot. After searching to no avail, he wrote a letter to a pilot's association and asked them to put his story in their newsletter. Months later, he received a note from Stigler, who at that point lived in Canada. The note said: "I was the one."
Brown spoke with Stigler on the phone, who confirmed numerous details about the day. The two men met in 1990, and per Brown's obituary they "became as close as brothers." They remained close friends until they both died, months apart from one another, in 2008.
Two lessons from the Peloponnesian War that we should pay attention to today:
(1) Athens and Sparta were the two major superpowers of their time (in their part of the world). They explicitly, in no uncertain terms, did not want to fight each other. Both cities wanted to avoid war. But they failed to do so, mainly because they committed to support other cities that were eager for war and who dragged Athens and Sparta into their own conflicts. In particular, Sparta, who failed to even show up at Marathon, was drug into war by its lesser ally Corinth, who was out for blood against what it perceived to be ungrateful former colonies. That doesn’t mean we don’t support our allies. It does mean we think long and hard about who we support, why we support them, and how far we are willing to take that support.
(2) Athens lost the Peloponnesian War in part because it overextended itself financially. We like to think of wars as being won by the heroes on the battlefield, but military victory is closely tied to financial strength.
I don’t believe in the truism that “history repeats itself.” But I do think that we can learn lot from those who came before us.
On this day in 1571, the fleet of the Holy League commanded by Don Juan of Austria engaged a massive fleet of the Ottoman Empire just outside an Ottoman naval base at the Gulf of Patras, located in western Greece. The ensuing Battle of Lepanto is significant for many reasons. Not only was it the last major naval battle in history to be fought between galleys, but it also was a major blow to the Ottoman Empire's efforts to conquer all of Europe. Approximately 132,000 men on nearly 500 ships fought in the battle, making it one of the largest naval battles in history.
It is easy to look back at things like the Holy League checking the Ottoman advance into Europe and assume that it was fated to happen. But it is not a given that a unified European fleet ever could have actually assembled in the first place. The competing European powers hated each other almost as much as they hated the Ottomans, and the French for a time even explicitly allied with the Ottoman navy. At least three important facts, each of which could have gone the other way, contributed to the European victory at Lepanto.
First, upon taking office Pope Pius V made it his mission in life to unite the Christian powers against the advance of Islam. His predecessor, Pius IV, did make calls for unity, but actually unifying the competing European powers was a task completely beyond him. While Pius IV did at least marginally support the Knights of St. John who successfully defended Malta, he was never able to achieve the sort of unity of his successor. Pius V, for his part, used a combination of papal wealth, appeals to unity, and political maneuvering to realize a unified response to the Ottoman threat.
Second, Pius V chose as the captain of his fleet Don Juan of Austria. Don Juan was the illegitimate son of Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, and as such he felt a need to prove himself. Europeans who owned ships capable of doing battle tended to be wealthy, and many were hesitant to send their expensive ships into battle. Many commanders would therefore be hesitant to join battle even when the opportunity arose, instead jockeying for position with opposing forces. Don Juan, at the age of 24, was hungry for battle near to the point of being reckless. When the opportunity for a pivotal and direct clash with the Ottoman fleet came, he led his fleet into battle where many others would have fled. On the advice of Andrea Doria, Juan had removed the prows from his fleet's ships, so that instead of shooting canon fire in an arc to cover a great distance, his ships’ canons shot directly forward, meaning that his ships could be aimed like rifles but could not be fired until they were at point blank range. The combination of Don Juan's borderline reckless charge into battle and his fleet's point-blank canon barrages was devastating to the Ottomans navy.
Third was the Ottoman treatment of the Venetians who surrendered to the Ottoman siege of Famagusta on Cyprus. Upon surrendering after being promised free passage, the Venetians were instead imprisoned, with their commander Marco Antonio Bragadin being tortured to death. Word of this reached Bragadin's Venetian compatriots. The Venetians were some of the most skilled sailors in the Mediterranean, and until Lepanto they had walked a delicate balance between Rome and Constantinople. Bragadin's fate was motivation for the Venetians to go all-in against the Ottoman navy. As Muslim sailors fled the Venetian advance, Venetian soldiers chased them, shouting "Famagusta! Famagusta!"
The victory at Lepanto did not conclusively end Ottoman dominance of the eastern Mediterranean. But it was an important moral victory for Europeans that for generations had trembled at the seemingly unstoppable Ottoman Empire. The idea that the Ottoman advance could be checked at all was important for a European psyche that had been demoralized by defeat for over century.
Today’s wisdom from Matt Ridley: “Nobody planned the global capitalist system, nobody runs it, and nobody really comprehends it. This particularly offends intellectuals, for capitalism renders them redundant. It gets on perfectly well without them.”
My wife @Natalie77770 is built like (and ages like) an elf: immortal, wisest, and fairest of all beings.
I am built like a dwarf: very dangerous over short distances.
I greatly enjoyed and learned a lot during this fellowship and highly encourage others to apply. The only downside is you have to hang out with @JohnHoodNC.
🚨 Applications are OPEN for the E.A. Morris Fellowship for Emerging Leaders – Class of 2026!
📍 NC residents, ages 25–40
🌟 Build skills, complete projects, join a great network
Apply now ➡️ https://t.co/gAGQedSfAy
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I recently read Philip Freeman���s biography of Julius Caesar. While the bulk of the book is about Caesar’s life, a short portion is about the state of Rome immediately following his death. Freeman noted that the battle over Caesar’s legacy, and what he did or did not stand for, began the day after he died. Was he for abolishing the Republic or merely improving it? Was he a petty dictator or a brilliant reformer?
I can’t help but see parallels in the discussions I see today about Charlie Kirk. Was he pro-Israel or anti-Israel? Was he for censorship or against censorship?
My read of Roman history is that those who best understood what Caesar stood for were those who were personally closest to him — namely his nephew, heir, and future emperor Octavian. Similarly, I think it is likely that those who best understand what Charlie stood for are those who were closest to him in life. I am therefore cautious about listening to those who did not know Charlie or follow his work who are now trying to use his legacy in support of their cause of choice.
And much like Caesar (though in a very different way) the world is going to be a very different place without Charlie Kirk than it would have been had we been able to keep him.
On Saturdays, we save turtles. This guy somehow got separated from the pond and was clearly drying out and lethargic. He dove in when we got him back to the water.
@thequeenofrust Awesome video and pictures!
I came across this church in the French countryside outside Dijon back in 2008. I believe this since those days a community group has restored it. Old buildings like this look like they have a memory of their own.