Latest news with #Hannibal
Yahoo
13 hours ago
- General
- Yahoo
Forget Rome – this was the ancient empire that made the modern world
Napoleon is relatively unusual in western history for aligning himself with the brutal Hannibal – not Hannibal's Roman enemy, Scipio Africanus. The Frenchman's interest in the Carthaginian bordered on obsessional. He read every book about him he could find, including the Latin histories of Livy, and made copious notes. He could work examples from Hannibal's life into conversation with ease, and when he crossed the Alps in 1800, he knew precisely whose footsteps he was following in. Hannibal was more than a man: he was, like Napoleon, a god. Hannibal was no stranger himself to self-mythologising. His name meant 'he who is favoured by Ba'al': Ba'al Hamon being the chief god of the Carthaginians, who reached the apex of their global powers from their city near Tunis (in modern Tunisia) in the third and second centuries BC. Hannibal had the air of an immortal, but also believed that he enjoyed the protection of Melqart, the Phoenician equivalent of Hercules. Melqart was often equated with the sun itself. Such confidence in one's divine credentials can only breed an appetite for risk-taking. Hannibal was clever, charismatic and fair. His success as a commander, argues Eve MacDonald in her comprehensive new book, Carthage: A New History of an Ancient Empire, 'rested in his soldiers and their loyalty to him'. The general was known for distributing bounties to his soldiers – a professional army drawn from many territories, including North Africa, Iberia, Greece and Italy – and following with further payments. The Romans, of course, despised him as the apparently unbeatable foe. The phrase Hannibal ad portas ('Hannibal is at the gates') gained currency during the Punic Wars between the two ancient superpowers, epitomising the fear as well as the awe he inspired in his adversaries. But has Hannibal's fame eclipsed that of his civilisation? This is one of the questions MacDonald, a senior lecturer in Ancient History at Cardiff, poses in Carthage. The fact that Greek and Roman sources dating from soon after Hannibal's time focus so heavily upon him, she suggests, 'tends to skew our evidence about Carthage around the life of one man and his great deeds and adventures.' As a result, wider-ranging historical interest in the region 'gets lost in the appetite for daring deeds of great soldiers'. Napoleon's fascination is a prime example. MacDonald's history, then, is not so much revisionist as expansionist. Its subtitle might have been: 'Who Were the Carthaginians?' Inhabitants of the ancient city were committed to comfortable living. Men – we know far more about them than we do the women – wore long tunics and earrings for pierced ears. On the evidence of Aristophanes, the Greek comedian, we can conjecture that they were mainly circumcised. From as early as the third century BC, the wealthier members of society had bathrooms with cisterns in their homes. They dined well on fish and a porridge consisting of grain with eggs, curd and honey. Meat was consumed mainly after religious sacrifices. One very early banquet, the remains of which were recently uncovered in the former Carthaginian city of Utica (near modern Bizerte), featured goat, oxen, pig, horse, and even turtle and dog. The ruins of Carthage's Antonine baths in modern-day Tunisia - Getty The architects of Carthaginian cities gave some consideration to the breeding and keeping of animals. MacDonald, who draws effectively upon her background in archaeology, describes stabling for horses and spaces inside the double 'casemate' walls of Carthage for raising elephants. Before Hannibal famously led 37 of the beasts across the Alps, Pyrrhus, King of the region of Epirus, introduced 20 to Italy, prior to his expedition to expel Carthaginians from Sicily. Having seen elephants in action, the Carthaginians were smitten, and went on to use them during their conquests of the Iberian Peninsula. The animals provided unparalleled cover for their retreat during a river-crossing beset by an hostile Celtic tribe. There's no consensus over which species the Carthaginians used, but a combination of African and Asian elephants is likely. The Carthaginians would not have been nearly so famous had they not fought with Rome. And the Romans might never have created their enduring empire had it not been for Carthage, which they mercilessly destroyed in 146 BC following a lengthy siege. The difficulty for the modern historian is that, in putting Carthage on the map, the Romans cast shadow on its virtues. It's a typical story of history being written by the conquerors. MacDonald's ambition to retell the history of Carthage from a Carthaginian perspective, then, is hampered by the limitations of the written material. This is unavoidable and only to be expected. No historian of the ancient world should be taken to task over the gaps in the sources; it's how they navigate those gaps that matters. MacDonald pieces the material together admirably and succeeds in creating a thickly-layered portrait of a culture that has often struck readers as peculiar and violent. She takes a particularly sensitive approach to the interpretation of phenomena such as child-sacrifice. An open-air sanctuary in Carthage has been found to contain thousands of urns filled with the cremated bodies of babies, young children and animals. It is known as a tophet – from the Hebrew name of a valley in Jerusalem where the Philistines were said to 'sacrifice their children through fire'. Greek and Roman writers wrote with abhorrence of Carthaginian children being rolled into flame-filled pits. Dido Building Carthage by J.M.W. Turner, 1815 - Getty Were children sacrificed in prayer for the wellbeing of the city? Or are these the dedicated remains of infants who died from natural causes? Most were very young when they died and we know that the rate of infant mortality was high. MacDonald draws attention to the inscriptions upon the stelae erected next to the urns, and particularly to the words, 'because he / she heard our voice'. This looks very much like a divine offering in fulfilment of a vow or an answered prayer. While it remains unclear exactly what was happening here, it is interesting to observe, as MacDonald does, that similar sanctuaries have been discovered in Malta, Sardinia, Sicily and elsewhere in north Africa. MacDonald is more vehemently myth-busting in her examination of the foundation of Carthage. According to the legend elaborated in Virgil's Aeneid, the city was established by Dido (known to the Carthaginians as Elissa), who fled her home in the Phoenician city of Tyre (in modern Lebanon) to escape her tyrannical brother Pygmalion. Having made landfall on the coast near Tunisia, the beleaguered Dido requested a piece of land only as large as an ox-hide. Her wish was granted, and she proceeded to chop up a hide into skinny strips, which she laid end to end to encompass a sizeable area for her new city. The citadel at Carthage was known thereafter as Byrsa, from the Greek for 'ox-hide'. It's a brilliant story, and according to MacDonald, calls on the well-known concept of 'using an ox to plough an area of land to mark out boundaries'. That sounds plausible. One thing the ancient writers did get absolutely right was that Carthage was founded in the 9th century BC and had Phoenician origins. The earliest inscription found at Carthage – on a gold pendant placed in a tomb – dates to then and even refers to a 'Pygmalion'. Radiocarbon dating further supports a foundation date in the 9th century BC. MacDonald writes clearly and frankly, and has produced an enjoyable and readily digestible introduction to Carthage. Hers is not a book of stylish prose or vivid description. The closest we come to the latter is in the opening pages, which recount the final destruction of Carthage, and in a survey of the aftermath of the Battle of Cannae, when 'steam rose in the morning off the still warm bodies of the dead and injured'. Some readers will favour such an information-over-atmosphere approach, and there is much to be said for giving it to us straight. But there were moments in which I felt that MacDonald could have let go a little. If Hannibal has one lesson for writers, it is surely that triumph is dependent upon risk. ★★★★☆ Daisy Dunn is the author of books including The Missing Thread: A New History of the Ancient World Through the Women Who Shaped It. Carthage: A New History of an Ancient Empire is published by Ebury at £22. To order your copy, call 0330 173 0523 or visit Telegraph Books Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
a day ago
- General
- Telegraph
Forget Rome – this was the ancient empire that made the modern world
Napoleon is relatively unusual in western history for aligning himself with the brutal Hannibal – not Hannibal's Roman enemy, Scipio Africanus. The Frenchman's interest in the Carthaginian bordered on obsessional. He read every book about him he could find, including the Latin histories of Livy, and made copious notes. He could work examples from Hannibal's life into conversation with ease, and when he crossed the Alps in 1800, he knew precisely whose footsteps he was following in. Hannibal was more than a man: he was, like Napoleon, a god. Hannibal was no stranger himself to self-mythologising. His name meant 'he who is favoured by Ba'al': Ba'al Hamon being the chief god of the Carthaginians, who reached the apex of their global powers from their city near Tunis (in modern Tunisia) in the third and second centuries BC. Hannibal had the air of an immortal, but also believed that he enjoyed the protection of Melqart, the Phoenician equivalent of Hercules. Melqart was often equated with the sun itself. Such confidence in one's divine credentials can only breed an appetite for risk-taking. Hannibal was clever, charismatic and fair. His success as a commander, argues Eve MacDonald in her comprehensive new book, Carthage: A New History of an Ancient Empire, 'rested in his soldiers and their loyalty to him'. The general was known for distributing bounties to his soldiers – a professional army drawn from many territories, including North Africa, Iberia, Greece and Italy – and following with further payments. The Romans, of course, despised him as the apparently unbeatable foe. The phrase Hannibal ad portas ('Hannibal is at the gates') gained currency during the Punic Wars between the two ancient superpowers, epitomising the fear as well as the awe he inspired in his adversaries. But has Hannibal's fame eclipsed that of his civilisation? This is one of the questions MacDonald, a senior lecturer in Ancient History at Cardiff, poses in Carthage. The fact that Greek and Roman sources dating from soon after Hannibal's time focus so heavily upon him, she suggests, 'tends to skew our evidence about Carthage around the life of one man and his great deeds and adventures.' As a result, wider-ranging historical interest in the region 'gets lost in the appetite for daring deeds of great soldiers'. Napoleon's fascination is a prime example. MacDonald's history, then, is not so much revisionist as expansionist. Its subtitle might have been: 'Who Were the Carthaginians?' Inhabitants of the ancient city were committed to comfortable living. Men – we know far more about them than we do the women – wore long tunics and earrings for pierced ears. On the evidence of Aristophanes, the Greek comedian, we can conjecture that they were mainly circumcised. From as early as the third century BC, the wealthier members of society had bathrooms with cisterns in their homes. They dined well on fish and a porridge consisting of grain with eggs, curd and honey. Meat was consumed mainly after religious sacrifices. One very early banquet, the remains of which were recently uncovered in the former Carthaginian city of Utica (near modern Bizerte), featured goat, oxen, pig, horse, and even turtle and dog. The architects of Carthaginian cities gave some consideration to the breeding and keeping of animals. MacDonald, who draws effectively upon her background in archaeology, describes stabling for horses and spaces inside the double 'casemate' walls of Carthage for raising elephants. Before Hannibal famously led 37 of the beasts across the Alps, Pyrrhus, King of the region of Epirus, introduced 20 to Italy, prior to his expedition to expel Carthaginians from Sicily. Having seen elephants in action, the Carthaginians were smitten, and went on to use them during their conquests of the Iberian Peninsula. The animals provided unparalleled cover for their retreat during a river-crossing beset by an hostile Celtic tribe. There's no consensus over which species the Carthaginians used, but a combination of African and Asian elephants is likely. The Carthaginians would not have been nearly so famous had they not fought with Rome. And the Romans might never have created their enduring empire had it not been for Carthage, which they mercilessly destroyed in 146 BC following a lengthy siege. The difficulty for the modern historian is that, in putting Carthage on the map, the Romans cast shadow on its virtues. It's a typical story of history being written by the conquerors. MacDonald's ambition to retell the history of Carthage from a Carthaginian perspective, then, is hampered by the limitations of the written material. This is unavoidable and only to be expected. No historian of the ancient world should be taken to task over the gaps in the sources; it's how they navigate those gaps that matters. MacDonald pieces the material together admirably and succeeds in creating a thickly-layered portrait of a culture that has often struck readers as peculiar and violent. She takes a particularly sensitive approach to the interpretation of phenomena such as child-sacrifice. An open-air sanctuary in Carthage has been found to contain thousands of urns filled with the cremated bodies of babies, young children and animals. It is known as a tophet – from the Hebrew name of a valley in Jerusalem where the Philistines were said to 'sacrifice their children through fire'. Greek and Roman writers wrote with abhorrence of Carthaginian children being rolled into flame-filled pits. Were children sacrificed in prayer for the wellbeing of the city? Or are these the dedicated remains of infants who died from natural causes? Most were very young when they died and we know that the rate of infant mortality was high. MacDonald draws attention to the inscriptions upon the stelae erected next to the urns, and particularly to the words, 'because he / she heard our voice'. This looks very much like a divine offering in fulfilment of a vow or an answered prayer. While it remains unclear exactly what was happening here, it is interesting to observe, as MacDonald does, that similar sanctuaries have been discovered in Malta, Sardinia, Sicily and elsewhere in north Africa. MacDonald is more vehemently myth-busting in her examination of the foundation of Carthage. According to the legend elaborated in Virgil's Aeneid, the city was established by Dido (known to the Carthaginians as Elissa), who fled her home in the Phoenician city of Tyre (in modern Lebanon) to escape her tyrannical brother Pygmalion. Having made landfall on the coast near Tunisia, the beleaguered Dido requested a piece of land only as large as an ox-hide. Her wish was granted, and she proceeded to chop up a hide into skinny strips, which she laid end to end to encompass a sizeable area for her new city. The citadel at Carthage was known thereafter as Byrsa, from the Greek for 'ox-hide'. It's a brilliant story, and according to MacDonald, calls on the well-known concept of 'using an ox to plough an area of land to mark out boundaries'. That sounds plausible. One thing the ancient writers did get absolutely right was that Carthage was founded in the 9th century BC and had Phoenician origins. The earliest inscription found at Carthage – on a gold pendant placed in a tomb – dates to then and even refers to a 'Pygmalion'. Radiocarbon dating further supports a foundation date in the 9 th century BC. MacDonald writes clearly and frankly, and has produced an enjoyable and readily digestible introduction to Carthage. Hers is not a book of stylish prose or vivid description. The closest we come to the latter is in the opening pages, which recount the final destruction of Carthage, and in a survey of the aftermath of the Battle of Cannae, when 'steam rose in the morning off the still warm bodies of the dead and injured'. Some readers will favour such an information-over-atmosphere approach, and there is much to be said for giving it to us straight. But there were moments in which I felt that MacDonald could have let go a little. If Hannibal has one lesson for writers, it is surely that triumph is dependent upon risk. ★★★★☆
Daily Mirror
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
Netflix series 'so addictive' fans binge watch in one night
Others comment on the mind bending ending A Netflix series dubbed 'so addictive' by fans they tell other viewers that they can easily binge watch it all in just one night. Behind Her Eyes was originally released on the streaming platform back in 2021. It is based on the best-selling novel of the same name by Sarah Pinborough. Steve Lightfoot, the writer and showrunner behind such hits as The Punisher, Narcos and Hannibal, adapted it for the screen. The story follows a single mother who enters a world of twisted mind games when she begins an affair with her psychiatrist boss while secretly befriending his mysterious wife. Its cast includes British actor Tom Bateman, along with Eve Hewson, who is the daughter of Bono and went on to star in Netflix's Perfect Couples. One Netflix user on Reddit posted asking for recommendations on a perhaps lesser known title on the platform that they could binge. They said: "Ideally seeking one of those shows where it would take a physical intervention to stop you watching the next episode. Like Severance, or early Lost, or similar. Just something compelling and bingeable that I haven't seen!" An early and popular response was the suggestion for Behind Her Eyes with many claiming it can be binged in just a day. A review of the six-part series claimed: "A masterclass in suspense and mystery: Behind Her Eyes is a thrilling journey that grips you from the first frame to the last. "This Netflix series, adapted from Sarah Pinborough's novel, delivers a narrative that is both seductive and unsettling, proving to be a masterclass in psychological suspense." One fan, sharing their thoughts online said: "I pretty much binge watched most of it in one day. I never really got bored. Each episode was amazing. If you're after a good thriller, this is a must watch." Another agreed: "This show is worth every second. The ending had me gasping, very unpredictable and extraordinary plot, definitely a psychological thriller! I binged watched it all in one day and it's the best-limited series I've seen in a while. "All the characters are just amazing and the plot is unlike anything any of us have ever seen before. This is definitely worth your time, if you're contemplating whether to watch or not, trust me the ending will be worth it!" Many people who have already watched it comment on the show's twist ending. A viewer posting on social media said it left them "messed up for days.' Someone else commented: "Absolutely loved this series! Excellent acting all round, Eve Hewson can do no wrong. I was hooked throughout and the ending was so unexpected, and just perfect." While someone else replied: "A true masterpiece with an ending that defies expectations."
15-07-2025
Tunisia Pavilion: Partnership in Innovation, Science, and Technology for Saving Lives
Tunisia, on northern Africa's Mediterranean coast, boasts beaches and beautiful coral reefs, along with many world heritage archaeological sites, such as the ancient trading port of Carthage. The beautiful Tunisia pavilion epitomizes the country's sobriquet, Jewel of North Africa, featuring colorful traditional mosaics and jasmine, the national flower. When visitors step into the pavilion, they are enveloped in the sweet floral fragrance. The interior walls are filled with mosaic pictures and video footage which depict legendary Queen Elissa's founding of Carthage, the history of General Hannibal's campaign against Rome, landscapes of the Sahara, in the south of the country, and representations of Tunisia's modern scientific technologies. The pavilion's souvenir shop offers Tunisian products, including a range of carpets with intricate geometric patterns, colorful tableware, jasmine aromatic oil, and natural soap. It will surely arouse a longing to visit Tunisia. The Tunisia pavilion is located in the Saving Lives zone. ( See the official map for details.) Tunisia marks its national day on Wednesday, August 13, at the Expo National Day Hall. (© ) (Originally published in Japanese. Reporting and text by Uchiyama Ken'ichi and . Photographic assistance by Kuroiwa Masakazu of 96-Box. Banner photo © .)
Yahoo
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Book excerpt: "Mark Twain" by Ron Chernow
We may receive an affiliate commission from anything you buy from this article. "Mark Twain" (Penguin Press), the latest book from Ron Chernow, the Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer of George Washington, Alexander Hamilton and Ulysses S. Grant, examines the life of one of America's greatest and most beloved writers. Read an excerpt below, and don't miss Robert Costa's interview with Ron Chernow on "CBS Sunday Morning" July 6! "Mark Twain" by Ron Chernow Prefer to listen? Audible has a 30-day free trial available right now. Prelude The Pilot House From the time he was a small boy in Hannibal, Missouri, the Mississippi River had signified freedom for Samuel Langhorne Clemens (later known as Mark Twain), a place where he could toss aside worldly cares, indulge in high spirits, and find sanctuary from society's restraints. For a sheltered, small‑town youth, the boisterous life aboard the steamboats plying the river, swarming with raffish characters, offered a gateway to a wider world. Pilots stood forth as undisputed royalty of this floating kingdom, and it was the pride of Twain's early years that, right before the Civil War, he had secured a license in just two years. However painstaking it was for a cub navigator to memorize the infinite details of a mutable river with its shifting snags, shoals, and banks, Twain had prized this demanding period of his life. Later he admitted that "I loved the profession far better than any I have followed since," the reason being quite simple: "a pilot, in those days, was the only unfettered and entirely independent human being that lived in the earth." In contrast, even kings and diplomats, editors and clergymen, felt muzzled by public opinion. "In truth, every man and woman and child has a master, and worries and frets in servitude; but in the day I write of, the Mississippi pilot had none." That search for untrammeled truth and freedom would form a defining quest of Mark Twain's life. For a man who immortalized Hannibal and the majestic river flowing past it, Twain had returned surprisingly few times to these youthful scenes, as if fearful that new impressions might intrude on cherished memories. In 1875, as he was about to turn forty, he had published in the Atlantic Monthly a seven‑part series titled "Old Times on the Mississippi," which chronicled his days as an eager young pilot. Now, in April 1882, he rounded up his publisher, James R. Osgood, and a young Hartford stenographer, Roswell H. Phelps, and set out for a tour of the Mississippi that would allow him to elaborate those earlier articles into a full‑length volume, Life on the Mississippi, that would fuse travel reportage with the earlier memoir. He had long fantasized about, but also long postponed, this momentous return to the river. "But when I come to write the Mississippi book," he promised his wife, Livy, "then look out! I will spend 2 months on the river & take notes, & I bet you I will make a standard work." Twain mapped out an ambitious six‑week odyssey, heading first down the river from St. Louis to New Orleans, then retracing his steps as far north as St. Paul, Minnesota, stopping en route at Hannibal. The three men sped west by the Pennsylvania Railroad in a "joggling train," the very mode of transportation that already threatened the demise of the freewheeling steamboat culture Twain had treasured. By journeying from east to west, he reversed the dominant trajectory of his life, enabling him to appraise his midwestern roots with fresh eyes. "All the R.R. station loafers west of Pittsburgh carry both hands in their pockets," he observed. "Further east one hand is sometimes out of doors." Now accustomed to the genteel affluence of Hartford, Connecticut, where he had resided for a decade, he had grown painfully aware of the provinciality of his boyhood haunts. "The grace and picturesqueness of female dress seem to disappear as one travels west away from N. York." To secure candid glimpses of his old Mississippi world, Twain traveled under the incognito of "Mr. Samuel," but he underestimated his own renown. From St. Louis he informed Livy that he "got to meeting too many people who knew me. We swore them to secrecy, & left by the first boat." After the three travelers boarded the steamer Gold Dust—"a vile, rusty old steamboat"—Twain was spotted by an old shipmate, his alias blown again. Henceforth his celebrity, which clung to him everywhere, would transform the atmosphere he sought to recapture. For all his joy at being afloat, he carped at the ship's squalor, noting passageways "less than 2 inches deep in dirt" and spittoons "not particularly clean." He dispatched the vessel with a sarcasm: "This boat built by [Robert] Fulton; has not been repaired since." At many piers he noted that whereas steamers in his booming days had been wedged together "like sardines in a box," a paucity of boats now sat loosely strung along empty docks. Twain was saddened by the backward towns they passed, often mere collections of "tumble‑down frame houses unpainted, looking dilapidated" or "a miserable cabin or two standing in [a] small opening on the gray and grassless banks of the river." No less noticeable was how the river had reshaped a landscape he had once strenuously committed to memory. Hamlets that had fronted the river now stood landlocked, and when the boat stopped at a "God forsaken rocky point," disgorging passengers for an inland town, Twain stared mystified. "I couldn't remember that town; couldn't place it; couldn't call its name . . . couldn't imagine what the damned place might be." He guessed, correctly, that it was Ste. Genevieve, a onetime Missouri river town that in bygone days had stood "on high ground, handsomely situated," but had now been relocated by the river to a "town out in the country." Once Twain's identity was known—his voice and face, his nervous habit of running his hand through his hair, gave the game away—the pilots embraced this prodigal son as an honored member of their guild. In the ultimate compliment, they gave him the freedom to guide the ship alone—a dreamlike consummation. "Livy darling, I am in solitary possession of the pilot house of the steamer Gold Dust, with the familiar wheel & compass & bell ropes around me . . . I'm all alone, now (the pilot whose watch it is, told me to make myself entirely at home, & I'm doing it)." He seemed to expand in the solitary splendor of the wheelhouse and drank in the river's beauty. "It is a magnificent day, & the hills & levels are masses of shining green, with here & there a white‑blossoming tree. I love you, sweetheart." Always a hypercritical personality, prone to disappointment, Mark Twain often felt exasperated in everyday life. By contrast, the return to the pilot house cast a wondrous spell on him, retrieving precious moments of his past when he was still young and unencumbered by troubles. The river had altered many things beyond recognition. "Yet as unfamiliar as all the aspects have been to‑day," he recorded in his copious notes, "I have felt as much at home and as much in my proper place in the pilot house as if I had never been out of the pilot house." It was a pilot named Lem Gray who had allowed Twain to steer the ship himself. Lem "would lie down and sleep, and leave me there to dream that the years had not slipped away; that there had been no war, no mining days, no literary adventures; that I was still a pilot, happy and care‑free as I had been twenty years before." One morning he arose at 4 a.m. to watch "the day steal gradually upon this vast silent world . . . the marvels of shifting light & shade & color & dappled reflections that followed, were bewitching to see." The paradox of Twain's life was that the older and more famous he became and the grander his horizons, the more he pined for the vanished paradise of his early years. His youth would remain the magical touchstone of his life, his memories preserved in amber. An excerpt from "Mark Twain," published by Penguin Press, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2025 by Ron Chernow. Reproduced with permission. Get the book here: "Mark Twain" by Ron Chernow Buy locally from For more info: "Mark Twain" by Ron Chernow (Penguin Press), in Hardcover, eBook and Audio formats Several people missing from Texas summer camp amid deadly flooding, officials say What a new DOJ memo could mean for naturalized U.S. citizens Emulsifying the truth behind mayonnaise
