Musings

Here are your choices: “Soft verges,””Weak bridges,” or “No fly tipping.”

“Soft verges,” as you might guess, refers to the condition of the margin along the blacktop (ahem, macadam) of a road, when that margin is unpaved and ungraveled, and, when it’s been raining recently, like now, muddy, or liable to be muddy, even if it’s grass-covered. So, beware soft verges!

“Weak bridges” is info for drivers. It’s left up to you what to do with that knowledge. As near as we can tell, weak bridges may be…unsafe under heavy vehicles. Note the difference between this notification strategy and one where the sign says, for example, “no vehicles over 30,000 lbs,” or similar. The positon taken by the highway department is quite different….

I’ll let you continue to ponder the last one: “No fly tipping.”

Or perhaps you are more worldly than I, and KNOW what it means….

On to some stories for now….

This is a view from the substantially complete keep tower from a 12th-century castle…built inside the walls of a ca. late AD 200s Roman fort. Yes, these are the best-condition walls for a Roman fort standing today. In an odd twist of fate, the fort walls were finished, but the interior occupation was short-lived and not robust. The Romans built this, along with many other fortifications on both sides of the English Channel, to control piracy and brigandage during a period of unrest.

Centuries after the Romans left, and after some occupation by the intervening generations, the keep-tower I’m standing on to take this photo was built to replace the most protected corner of this large compound, along with ancillary rooms and structures. The castle occupies only one corner of the Roman fort. The church opposite also dates to the 12th-C, although we saw a grave with a death-date of about a century ago; it’s still in use. The keep area was modified several times through the Medieval period….

The roof of the keep (modern roof on 14th-C uppermost floor) has a small walkway all the way around, with access via a tight circular stair with worn narrow, pie-shaped stone steps (and a modern rope for a railing). I liked this view, beyond the walls and across revealed tidal flats, at modern boatyards.

On the list of who slept in this castle: King John of Magna Carta fame, who used it as a jumping-off place for his activities in Normandy….

Here’s the keep, anchoring the corner of the Roman fort-wall farthest from the harbor. There’s a moat around the fort, and another moat inside the Roman walls around the castle. THAT’s protection!

The keep was used as a prison in the 1800s, so despite excellent preservation of the Roman walls, the keep endured more alterations.

There’s plenty more known about the history of Portchester Castle, some of it on WikiPee. (I give you the name of this building here at the end, in keeping with the info-at-the-end pattern of the optional title explanations….)

Okay, that’s plenty of distraction. Back to the phrase “no fly tipping.” Here’s the only clue we had: such signs are near dumpsters, like in the back of a grocery store or fast-food restaurant parking lot.

So, is your choice “No fly tipping?”

Posted at 6:36 PM | 3 Comments »

Somehow the stars aligned and this morning we joined a private tour of the restored house of Lucius Quintus Cincinnatus Lamar (the son). The man is revered for many things, including drafting the secession papers for the state of Mississippi (leading up to the Civil War), then becoming “rehabilitated” (essentially) after the war, becoming not only a member of the US House of Representatives, but also a member of the US Supreme Court. He is still the only Mississippian to have served on that court.

This is the ancient osage orange that survives next to the house Lamar built on 30 ac on the outskirts of Oxford MS, named for Oxford GA and Oxford in England. The town has now crept up to the front yard, and the four-square house is now on what seems like a city lot. Even on a rainy day, it’s a special place, and worth the time to visit.

This monumental tree in the side yard was a total surprise. It’s an ancient and outsized osage orange tree.

Posted at 10:22 PM | Comments Off on Unexpected histories

Found this derelict cooling facility that made an ice-company’s insulated rooms cold…while wandering the not-yet-abandoned industrial district of a contracting second-order (maybe third?) central place in the rural south….

Do you remember having concentration like this? When playing on the floor was a natural thing and your knees didn’t creak….

More evidence of concentration, this time by the elder offspring in the family we’re visiting…make your own board game! And you should see her pencil sketches…such talent! I’m in awe….

Posted at 11:48 PM | 2 Comments »

Wooden box at Fort Jackson yesterday.

I am not sure what was in the “Essence of Peaches” tins; was it peach puree? whole peach chunks? the equivalent of what we call peach nectar today?

Posted at 10:22 PM | Comments Off on Mystified

Recommend the show at Fort Jackson, next time you’re in Savannah. The sign of US80 says “Cannon Firings!!!” Pay attention to the three exclamation points…it’s our theory that that’s the major clue…. Our fellow in blue (reenactor) was FAN-tastic, and got all of us “volunteers” to march and otherwise participate. Sooooooo fun.

Posted at 9:58 PM | Comments Off on I reenacted (without the scratchy wool clothing)

Drayton Hall, c. 1750 (but for over a century believed to date a decade earlier), mantel detail.

We visited the American version of the English version of Classical Greek/Roman decorative arts. Not sure what mythical moment this is honoring, maybe…let’s look at flowers because it’s really cold out…thankfully sunny, but still cold.

A little chemistry and political economy…. In the depression that followed the Civil…umhem, War between the States, an economic downturn that lasted for about six decades in the Charleston (SC) area, savvy landholders benefitted from mining calcium phosphate along the Ashley River and nearby (upstream of Charleston). The calcium phosphate was processed to make particularly rich agricultural fertilizer. By the 1880s, the phosphate from this field dominated world production. But it didn’t last long…new fields discovered in Florida were easier to mine, and there were other market shifts.

Enough of this…sleep tight.

Posted at 9:32 PM | 1 Comment »

I’m still grooving on the golden leaves in the back yard (garden, British English).

Speaking of over the pond, I did a bit of research on brochs (auto-spell wisdom wants to make it brooches—a totally different thing) and wheelhouses today. Man, those archaeologists of Scotland’s past can nitpick. That’s a bit unfair; if they started with the data we have today, they’d generate a rather different initial interpretation (this is a constant problem/predicament in archaeo).

Posted at 9:30 PM | Comments Off on Power of data

In the basement of one of the museums we visited was a large exhibit of ancient Roman coinage. This was some of the early stuff, dating to the 4th–3rd Cs BC. They look heavy to me.

Posted at 7:40 PM | Comments Off on Pocket change

This is a nymphaeum that probably dates to very early in the 18th C. It’s right up against the foot of the Capitoline hill, just down from the staircase that ascends to the piazza that dominates the top of the hill at present.

Anciently, the Capitoline was a very important place in Rome. The first fortress was here, along with the first temples. Long story short, Mousse-oh-lee-nee chopped the north end off a hill that had already been greatly altered over the years, including the addition of a church in Medieval times and the 16th-C alterations of palazzos that now are part of the Capitoline Museums around the Piazza del Campidoglio, all designed by Michelangelo. This construction changed the ascent to the main hilltop from the east and the Forum to the west and the city. The climb from the Forum to the Capitoline summit was the last, and arguably the most important, part of the route of Triumphal processions that Republican and Imperial generals lead through the city, ending at a temple on the Capitoline where sacrifices were made.

Nymphaeums were first sacred springs where nymphs were believed to reside. Nymphs were likely part of the pantheon of pre-Roman peoples of the northern Italian Peninsula—and probably beyond. Eventually, springs were created in the form of fountains to evoke such sacred places (the water alternative to sacred groves). The name continued to be used for a contemplative location (garden) with flowing water, so that owners of a villa had one built in the back of their garden in the early 18th C, below ruins on the face of the Capitoline. Note how the vertical support in the arch above was there in the 18th C (drawing). Also, note the row of buildings (residences?) along the rim of the hillside, where there is now an overlook.

One other thing, apparently although the destruction in the 1920s didn’t remove the wall of the nymphaeum, the water supply was cut. In, get this, 2011, it was restored and a plaque installed noting this proud fact. And a mere three years later, it now looks like it’s been a barely functional oozing fountain for a half-century….

We splurged on a taxi to our overnight down at the airport that we hope will make an early arrival at the airport tomorrow easy (well, easier). The taxi was a Peugeot, oooh-lah-lah.

And we’re seeing a slushy, romantic, Julia Roberts promotion of Calzedonia, a big Italian company (clothing at least) play over and over on the TV (haven’t had TV for a while). Big Euro-bucks to the former Georgian, I’m sure.

WEATHER REPORT: Storms in NW Italy and SE France have sent mud and sludge into many towns, including Vernazza, which has been evacuated. No rain here, and overcast even has been spotty. Our trip planner (me) sure miscalculated the temperatures we’d experience during this trip; it’s been sweaty-hot much of the time, with pleasant cool evenings, mostly; however, we’ve been lucky with the rain, only a morning or so during our first stint in Rome….

Posted at 4:25 PM | Comments Off on Later ruin

Yeah, it’s one massive ruin.

Spectators did not experience the interior of the Flavian Amphitheatre as anything like this. There was finish—cladding (mostly travertine) on the walls, staircases and access archways, statuary to remind visitors of gods and men (and probably goddesses and women), and most of the surface you see here was really seating, aisles, and arched entries. There was a cloth shade-cover that could be unfurled. So, no, it didn’t look like this. It’s like a skeleton compared to a living body. (Sorta.)

Drawing from several sources, this is what I conclude…. Spectators entered for free with tickets specifying a seating area, and some events lasted for days. The inauguration, in AD 80, lasted for 100 days, and later the stage area was modified so it could be flooded and used for nautical battles. A typical spectacle began with a morning opening parade (pompa), followed by fights between wild animals, hunts by armed men of animals, and shows of tamed animals. The experience of the latter was augmented by stunning scenes of their wild habitats. There was a break midday, used for executions. The goriest were damnatio ad bestias, in which the condemned were torn apart by wild animals. There’s no evidence that Christians were punished here in this manner. Between the major events, people played gambling games and postured to impress. [I tried a vertical panorama, an experiment; since the camera/phone can tell what’s “up” I didn’t know if it’d work—it did! The distortion is interesting, bowing the very vertical walls.]

Regarding the spectacles in the Colosseum, Claridge (2010:317–318) notes:

Gladiatorial shows were called munera (dutiful gifts) and were always given by individuals, not by the State. By the time the Colosseum was built they were being held as a regular public event, in December, as part of the New Year ritual, coinciding with the yearly political cycle, when they would be paid for by the incoming magistrates. At other times they could accompany the funerary rites for major public figures, or could be held on the anniversaries of past deaths. They were also staged in celebration of military triumphs. Such was their popularity that from the reign of Domitian it was decreed that in Rome they could only be given by the emperor; and elsewhere they required his sanction. The daily programme was usually divided into three parts: wild animal hunts (venationes) in the morning, public executions at midday, and gladiatorial contests in the afternoon; shows could run for many days depending on the available number of animals and gladiators. Trajan is said to have celebrated his Dacian triumph in AD 107 with 11,000 animals and 10,000 gladiators in the course of 123 days. Gladiators were a mixture of condemned criminals and prisoners of war (who were generally expendable), and career professionals (slaves, freedmen, or free volunteers), mostly men but occasionally women, specialized in different types of armour and weaponry: the heavily armed Myrmillo (named after the fish on his helmet) and the Samnite both had large oblong shields and swords; the more lightly armed Thracian, a round shield and curved scimitar; the Retiarius only a net and a trident. Others fought from chariots (essedarii), or on horseback. The fights were often staged in elaborate sets, with movable trees and buildings; the executions might involve complicated machinery and torture; some acted out particularly gruesome episodes from Greek or Roman mythology. Animals for the venationes came mainly from Africa and might include rhinoceros, hippos, elephants, and giraffes, as well as lions, panthers, leopards, crocodiles, and ostriches.

An observation: Romans use rear balconies like back porches, for storage and not-quite-so-public activities. Of course, it hosts plenty of drying laundry, plus often hot-water heaters are on the walls, piping the hot water inside—they’re the boxes on the walls. Here’s what I’ve been chuckling about: people store ladders there. Apparently, with high ceilings, people need ladders once in a while, and there is no “ladder for the building” or ladder that can be rented out from a nearby business. So many apartments have a ladder, and the place to store it is on the rear balcony (there’s one above the gate leaning next to the water heater).

An hour on a Friday afternoon…: we took a break using seating framing the church entry area part of the Piazza in front of the Chiesa di San Salvatore in Lauro, north of where we used to stay. We discovered several things. We saw two nursing moms take a break down from us on the same seating, each to feed their young-un while Pops idly stood by the stroller. No modesty cloths, just doing what needs doing. We also enjoyed the children playing out front, hopscotch and a bit of soccer-ball footwork. Then, at 5:30, the church bells began pealing, and Friday evening mass got underway. Music emanated. The kids kept playing. Then, just before 6, a procession formed in the doorway to the left of the church door. In the front were fully adult men carrying the cross and I don’t know what else—they make altar “boys” old here…. The group emerged and made a loop into the church, with the somewhat tottering highest-ranking fellow (judging by the tall headdress) at the end with two flanking attendees. No one told the little boy to stop and pick up his soccer ball, but he did. He was much more focused on the ritual than the group of girls. What you don’t see is that two of the nannies watching the kids looked like middle-aged Filapina ladies. Behind the officials, several toursts surged in, drawn by the pomp. We kept sitting and watching.

Claridge, Amanda, 2010. Rome: An Oxford Archaeological Guide. 2nd ed. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

Posted at 4:35 PM | 2 Comments »