Newton’s Apple

If you’re interested in the History of Science as I am you will be pleased to know that the Royal Society has just added several important manuscripts to its digital collections including the famous biography of Isaac Newton written by the stonehenge antiquarian William Stukeley, Memoirs of Sir Isaac Newton’s Life. The text of Stukeley’s memoirs is already available online however this is the first time the manuscript itself has been available to the public.

Stukeley did not complete the memoirs until 1752, twenty-five years after Newton’s death, however he recalls one of the most famous anecdotes in the annals of science: Newton’s encounter with the falling apple. He writes about a conversation he had with Newton in Kensington on 15 April 1726:

After dinner, the weather being warm, we went into the garden, & drank thea under the shade of some appletrees; only he, & my self. amidst other discourse, he told me, he was just in the same situation, as when formerly, the notion of gravitation came into his mind. “why should that apple always descend perpendicularly to the ground,” thought he to himself, occasion’d by the fall of an apple, as he sat in contemplative mood. “why should it not go sideways, or upwards? but constantly to the earth’s center? assuredly, the reason is, that the earth draws it. there must be a drawing power in matter. & the sum of the drawing power in the matter of the earth must be in the earth’s center, not in any side of the earth. therefore does this apple fall perpendicularly or toward the center. if matter thus draws matter; it must be in proportion of its quantity. therefore the apple draws the earth, as well as the earth draws the apple.”

& thus by degrees he began to apply this properly of gravitation to the motion of the earth, & of heavenly bodys: to consider their distances, their magnitudes, their periodical revolutions;

The story was likely embellished by Newton himself over the years. Regarding Stukeley’s memoirs, Keith Moore, the Royal Society’s head of library and archives told the Guardian UK:

“Scholars know where the apple story comes from, and clearly it’s an anecdote Newton polished. What we want is for the public to see the manuscript itself. It wasn’t just Newton that polished it, succeeding generations put a gloss on it as well – that story just humanises him just a little bit.”

Both Scientific American and the Guardian UK have articles on the Stukeley manuscript.

The Royal Society’s new Turning the Pages digital collection includes

Memoirs of Sir Isaac Newton’s life, by William Stukeley	William Stukeley’s recollections of Isaac Newton’s life, 1752
Fossil notebook, by Henry James	A field notebook containing drawings of trilobites by Henry James FRS, 1843
Anatomical studies, by Andrew van Rysmdyk	Anatomical studies of the lymphatic system, by Andrew van Rysmdyk, 1774
On iron bridges, by Thomas Paine	Letter from Thomas Paine to Joseph Banks on an iron arch bridge made at Mesrs Walkers Iron Works, 1789
Specimens of calligraphy and natural history illustration	Specimens of calligraphy and natural history illustration, 17th Century
Constitutions of Carolina, by John Locke	The fundamental constitutions of Carolina, by John Locke & others, 1681
British grasses and wild flowers, by Richard Waller	Illustrations of British grasses and wild flowers by naturalist Richard Waller, ca. 1686-1688

Holy Moly

Treatises on the properties of plants for medicinal uses abounded in the Middle Ages. Often they were based on ancient sources such as the De Materia Medica of Dioscorides, the Naturalis Historia of Pliny the Elder, or even more esoteric references. One such Herbal was attributed by medieval authors to the Roman novelist Lucius Apuleius (d. ca. 180AD)  although modern scholars have cast doubt on his authorship. Here a 12th century copy of the Pseudo-Apuleian Herbal  copied in England discusses the uses of the herb Moly. In book ten of Homer’s Odyssey the god Mercury gives Moly to Odysseus to counter the effects of Circe’s poison.  The medieval Herbal, however, recommends Moly as a remedy for the pain of childbirth (dolor matricis).

Hec herba Immolum : Clarissima omnium est  Homero attestante; et inventore ipsius Mercurio assignante que iussu cum beneficio demonstratur ; rotunda radice nigraque in magnitudine cepe est. Herba Immolum contusa et imposita ; dolorem matricis perfectissime sanat.

In the illumination Homer is titled Archiater or “Chief Physician”

Oxford, Bodleian, MS. Ashmole 1431, ff.26v-27r.
A Herbal after Apuleius
England, late 12th century

Reginald Article

My article on Reginald of Canterbury appears in the next edition of Revue Benedictine.

S. KILLINGS, Reginald’s Verses on the Canterbury Shrines

Abstract. — This paper examines two works of the Poitevin monk Reginald of S. Augustine’s Canterbury (ca. 1035-1109), the dedicatory hymn to the new shrines of S. Augustine whose relics were recently translated in 1091, Laus sepulchri S. Augustini sociorumque eius, and the series of titular quatrains to the shrines, Tituli versusque nostrorum virorum. Reginald’s dedicatory hymn was probably written for the feast of commemoration of the shrines which occurred in the Canterbury liturgical calendar on September 13th and appears to belong to the large group of hymns Reginald wrote for September liturgical feasts. The hymn reflects the disposition of the shrines in the new ambulatory of the church of SS. Peter and Paul and contains elements relating to the events of the 1091 translation. The verses on S. Liudhard appear to have been composed at a different time and internal evidence in these verses suggests that Reginald was a witness to the 1091 translation. The titular quatrains were likely intended to be inscribed on or placed near the newly constructed shrines for prayer. Both the dedicatory hymn and the titular quatrains, which were likely written around the same time, are indebted to Goscelin’s hagiographical and polemical work especially Reginald’s verses on S. Mildrith and in the titular quatrains on her two sisters Mildgith and Mildburg and mother Domne Eafe. Reginald demonstrates an awareness of the controversy surrounding the relics of S. Mildrith. Altogether, Reginald’s verses on the shrines provide an important ancillary to Goscelin’s Historia Translationis, Libellus and Vita Mildrethae.

Résumé. — L’article étudie deux œuvres du moine Poitevin Réginald, de Saint-Augustin de Cantorbéry (1035-1109) : l’hymne pour la dédicace du nouveau tombeau de S. Augustin, dont les reliques avaient été récemment transférées en 1091 : la Laus sepulchri S. Augustini sociorumque eius, et la série de quatrains servant de titres aux tombes : Tituli versusque nostrorum virorum. L’hymne dédicatoire était probablement destinée à la fête de la commémoration du tombeau, le 13 septembre dans le calendrier liturgique de Cantorbéry ; elle appartient au groupe plus large des hymnes que Réginald composa pour les fêtes de septembre. L’hymne reflète la place des tombes dans le nouveau déambulatoire de l’église SS.-Pierre-et-Paul et comporte le rappel d’événements de la translation en 1091. Les vers sur S. Liudhard ont dû être composés à un autre moment, et leur contenu suggère que Réginald fut un témoin oculaire de la translation. Les quatrains étaient destinés à être gravés sur les tombes nouvellement construites pour la prière. L’hymne et les quatrains sont vraisemblablement contemporains. Les vers de Réginald sur Ste Mildrith, ainsi que les quatrains sur ses deux sœurs, Mildgith et Mildburg, et sur leur mère, Domne Eafe, sont redevables à l’œuvre hagiographique de Goscelin. Réginald connaît la controverse au sujet des reliques de Ste Mildrith. En même temps les vers de Réginald apportent un complément important à l’Historia Translationis, au Libellus et à la Vita Mildrethae de Goscelin.

Heads or Ships: Roman Coin Flipping

I see in a rather odd article about coin-tossing the Telegraph UK mentions the ancient Roman past-time which they erroneously call Head or Ships but which was actually called Capita vel Navia, Heads or Ships because of Janus, the two headed god (yes, the one January is named after, the god of beginnings). The literary reference to this Roman past-time comes from Macrobius Saturnalia 1.7.21-2 which relates the story of Saturn’s arrival in exile in Latium (To understand this passage one must remember that in Late Antiquity the Hellenistic gods were thought to have been originally kings and princes who, over time, eventually came to be worshiped as gods — a notion referred to as Euhemerism - so in the etymology of Late Antiquity many scholars  believed that the name for the region known as Latium came from lateo, latere, that is to say to hide, because it was thought that Saturn fled Crete on a ship to Italy in order to hide from Jupiter. The two-headed god Janus was thought to have been an early king of the Latins who taught the people agriculture, husbandry and coinage).

[21] Hic igitur Ianus, cum Saturnum classe pervectum excepisset hospitio et ab eo edoctus peritiam ruris ferum illum et rudem ante fruges cognitas victum in melius redegisset, regni eum societate muneravit. [22] Cum primus quoque aera signaret, servavit et in hoc Saturni reverentiam, ut, quoniam ille navi fuerat advectus, ex una quidem parte sui capitis effigies, ex altera vero navis exprimeretur, quo Saturni memoriam in posteros propagaret. Aes ita fuisse signatum hodieque intellegitur in aleae lusum, cum pueri denarios in sublime iactantes capita aut navia lusu teste vetustatis exclamant.

[21] When Saturn arrived by ship, Janus received him here as his guest and learned from him the art of husbandry, thereby improving a mode of life which, before men understood how to make use of the fruits of the earth, had been brutish and rude; and he rewarded Saturn by sharing his kingdom with him. [22] Janus was also the first to strike coins of bronze, and in this too he showed his high regard for Saturn; for on one side of a coin he stamped the image of his own head but on the other side a ship, that posterity might preserve the remembrance of Saturn, whose coming had been by ship. And that the bronze coinage was so marked is evident even today from the game of chance in which boys throw pennies in the air, calling “heads” or “ships” for the game bears witness to the old usage.

Janus was a very frequent image on coins throughout  Roman history but the coin referred to by Macrobius was called the “As” or “Aes Grave”. It was a bronze coin that featured Janus on one side and a ship’s prow on another. These were typically minted around the Punic Wars (early 3rd century BC) and were replaced eventually by the silver denarius.

The Tomb of Cleopatra

I read with great interest of the recent discovery of a large granite pylon and a mausoleum threshold in the underwater excavation site of the temple of Isis in Alexandria. Both Zahi Hawass and the excavation PI, Harry Tzalas, suggest that the threshold was for the tomb of Cleopatra VII. The Guardian UK picks up the story about the threshold but the best information comes from Zahi Hawass’ blog. The Discovery network ran an informative article from the AP about the pylon which was pulled from the seafloor earlier this month. The latest excavations of the harbor of Alexandria are discussed in depth by the FGS Project which provides excavation reports and timelines (with a very cool image gallery of finds in situ!).

The location of the temple of Isis and the Royal Quarters of the Ptolemies has long been known. They stood in antiquity on a hill known as the Lochias which stood on the eastern edge of the harbor of Alexandria. The entire site is currently underwater. Strabo (Geographica 17.1.9) provides an ancient account:

In the great harbour at the entrance, on the right hand, are the island and the Pharos tower; on the left are the reef of rocks and the promontory Lochias, with a palace upon it: at the entrance, on the left hand, are the inner palaces, which are continuous with those on the Lochias, and contain numerous painted apartments and groves. Below lies the artificial and close harbour, appropriated to the use of the kings; and Antirrhodus a small island, facing the artificial harbour, with a palace on it, and a small port. It was called Antirrhodus, a rival as it were of Rhodes.

And FGS provides a great reconstruction of the entire harbor complex:

The discovery of a large mausoleum threshold that resembles those of Macedonian tombs in the temple precincts is exciting but its connection to Cleopatra VII and in particular to the scene of Marc Anthony’s death as reported in Plutarch should be accepted with some caution. The temples of Hellenistic Egypt are rife with mausolea and it is well known that Ptolomaic royalty and others of royal lineage were buried in them for centuries. What has the archaeologists excited is the girth of the granite threshold (15 tonnes) and that it was fitted for double hinges and doors since these facts might accord with parts of Plutarch’s account of Anthony’s last days in Alexandria in his Parallel Lives.

After Marc Antony’s infantry was at last defeated by Augustus outside the city and his navy and cavalry had deserted him he rashly blamed Cleopatra for betraying him. Cleopatra in fear of Antony’s madness locked herself in her tomb with two of her handmaidens and sent word to Antony that she had taken her own life. According to Plutarch:

[she] fled for refuge into her tomb and let fall the drop-doors, which were made strong with bolts and bars

We find out later as well that:

The door was strongly fastened with bolts and bars, but allowed a passage for the voice.

Antony in despair runs himself through with his sword but soon after he learns that she is still alive from Diomedes her secretary. Plutarch provides the most heart-wrenching account of Antony’s final moments:

Having learned, then, that Cleopatra was alive, Antony eagerly ordered his servants to raise him up, and he was carried in their arms to the doors of her tomb. Cleopatra, however, would not open the doors, but showed herself at a window, from which she let down ropes and cords. To these Antony was fastened, and she drew him up herself, with the aid of the two women whom alone she had admitted with her into the tomb. Never, as those who were present tell us, was there a more piteous sight. Smeared with blood and struggling with death he was drawn up, stretching out his hands to her even as he dangled in the air. For the task was not an easy one for the women, and scarcely could Cleopatra, with clinging hands and strained face, pull up the rope, while those below called out encouragement to her and shared her agony. And when she had thus got him in and laid him down, she rent her garments over him, beat and tore her breasts with her hands, wiped off some of his blood upon her face, and called him master, husband, and imperator; indeed, she almost forgot her own ills in her pity for his. But Antony stopped her lamentations and asked for a drink of wine, either because he was thirsty, or in the hope of a speedier release. When he had drunk, he advised her to consult her own safety, if she could do it without disgrace, and among all the companions of Caesar to put most confidence in Proculeius, and not to lament him for his last reverses, but to count him happy for the good things that had been his, since he had become most illustrious of men, had won greatest power, and now had been not ignobly conquered, a Roman by a Roman.

Hawass and Tzalas suggest that the doors to the tomb were so large and heavy that Cleopatra and her maidens could not open them, hence they ordered Antony to be lowered in with ropes. Plutarch does not exactly say this about the doors, however, so their interpretation of the 15 tonne granite threshold via the Parallel Lives should be cautionary. It could be inferred but it is by no means certain.

UPDATE: The Plutarch quote mentioned in the Guardian UK article has been pointed out to me:

Plutarch wrote, “when closed the [mausoleum's] door mechanism could not open again”.

But I can’t seem to find this quote in my edition of the Parallel Lives. Is it possible the author simply inferred this idea from the drop-down door mentioned above?