"Neither Letters nor Swimming": The Rebirth of Swimming and Free-Diving 9004446206, 9789004446205, 9789004446199

Table of contents :
Preface
Figures
Introduction
1. The Classical Notion of an Art
2. The Classical Proverb
3. Classical Clues for Swimming as an Art
Part 1. Ancient Legacy
Chapter 1. The Art of Swimming: Rationale and Training
1 The Age for Learning to Swim
2 Swimming Technology
3 Swimming and the Natural Environment
4 Swim Strokes
5 Learning to Swim
Chapter 2. The Art of Swimming in Practice
1 Rescuers
2 The Further Benefits of Swimming
3 Swimming for Pay
Chapter 3. The Profession of Free-Diving: Rationale and Training
1 Free-Diving as Metaphor
2 Terminology and Labor Organization
3 Training and Gender
Chapter 4. Free-Diving to Earn a Living
1 Diving for Sponges
2 Diving for Other Marine Species
3 Underwater Mining and Salvage
4 Building Activities (Villas / Ports / Bridges)
Chapter 5. Military Diving and Swimming: The Open Seas
1 Free-Diving for Military Purposes
2 Swimming for Military Purposes
3 Organized Rescue
4 Self-Rescue
5 Technological Aids
Chapter 6. From the Open Seas to Rivers and Lakes
1 Greek Mercenaries in Persia
2 A Contrast: Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar
3 The Macedonians and Rome’s Militarization
4 Swimming Enemies
5 The Batavi as Supreme Swimming Auxiliaries
6 Swimming Heroes Battle River Gods
Chapter 7. The End of the Ancient Tradition and Nonnus of Panopolis
1 Vegetius on Training
2 Late Antique Poets and Historians on Military Swimming
3 A Shift in Mood: Ausonius and Erotic Aquatics
4 Nonnus and the Celebration of Erotic Aquatics
5 Hero and Leander on Stage and in Epyllion
6 Nonnus bis: Literary Evidence for Free-Diving
Part 2. Medieval Impoverishment
Chapter 8. Legendary Aquatic Feats of the Middle Ages
1 Swimming and Diving in the Early Middle Ages
2 Aquatic Feats of the Heroes of Sagas and Epic
3 Free-Diving Heroes of Medieval Legend
4 Swimming and Free-Diving in Northern European Histories
Chapter 9. The Medieval Profession of Free-Diving
1 Medieval Salvage Diving in Law and Practice
2 Free-Diving for Pearls in the Middle Ages
3 Free-Diving for Coral in the Middle Ages
4 Dante’s Free-Diver Simile
Part 3. The Renaissance Conceptualization of Swimming and Free-Diving
Chapter 10. Erasmus, Nicolas Wynman, and the First Art of Swimming
1 The Intuition: Italian Treatises on Education in the Humanities
2 The Imprimatur: The Adages of Erasmus
3 The Innovator: Wynman’s Latin Dialogue on How to Swim
Chapter 11. A Cambridge Don Tackles Swimming
1 Digby’s Dedication to Richard Wortley
2 Why: Digby’s Rationale for Swimming as an Art
3 When and Where
4 How: Entries, Strokes, and Rotation
5 How: Methods of Turning Around
6 How: Fun Things to Do (Festivitates)
7 Head-First Diving and Free-Diving (Urinatio)
8 Novelty and Survival
Chapter 12. Scholars and Engineers Contribute
1 Swimming as Ideal and Metaphor
2 Renaissance Engineers and Swimming
3 Renaissance Engineers and Diving
Chapter 13. Diving in the Renaissance
1 Traditional Tasks
2 Renaissance Origins of Archaeological Diving
3 Science, Mathematics, and Italian Salvage Companies
4 Globalization
Conclusion
1 Proverbial Ignorance in the Classical World
2 The Legacy of Antiquity
3 The Middle Ages: Legendary Swimmers
4 The Rebirth of Swimming
5 The Impact on Free-Diving
Appendices
Bibliography
Index

Citation preview

“Neither Letters nor Swimming”

Brill’s Studies in Maritime History Series Editor Gelina Harlaftis, Institute for Mediterranean Studies/Foundation of Research and Technology – Hellas (FORTH) and University of Crete Editorial Board Maria Fusaro, University of Exeter, U.K. Michael Miller, University of Florida, U.S.A. Sarah Palmer, University of Greenwich, U.K. Amelia Polónia, University of Porto, Portugal David Starkey, University of Hull, U.K. Malcolm Tull, Murdoch University, Australia Richard W. Unger, University of British Columbia, Canada

volume 9

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/bsmh

“Neither Letters nor Swimming” The Rebirth of Swimming and Free-Diving By

John M. McManamon

LEIDEN | BOSTON

Cover illustration: Alessandro Allori (1535–1607), Pesca delle perle, Florence, Museo di Palazzo Vecchio, Studiolo. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: McManamon, John M., author. Title: “Neither letters nor swimming” : the rebirth of swimming and  free-diving / by John M. McManamon. Description: Leiden ; Boston : Brill, [2021] | Series: Brill’s studies in  maritime history, 2405-4917 ; Volume 9 | Includes bibliographical  references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2020055004 (print) | LCCN 2020055005 (ebook) |  ISBN 9789004446205 (hardback) | ISBN 9789004446199 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Swimming—History. | Swimming—Study and teaching. |  Swimming—Psychological aspects. | Skin diving—Study and teaching. Classification: LCC GV836.4 .M36 2021 (print) | LCC GV836.4 (ebook) |  DDC 797.2/109—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020055004 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020055005

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill-typeface. ISSN 2405-4917 ISBN 978-90-04-44620-5 (hardback) ISBN 978-90-04-44619-9 (e-book) Copyright 2021 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Hes & De Graaf, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Rodopi, Brill Sense, Hotei Publishing, mentis Verlag, Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh and Wilhelm Fink Verlag. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests for re-use and/or translations must be addressed to Koninklijke Brill NV via brill.com or copyright.com. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

For my cousins

∵

Contents Preface xi List of Figures xiv Introduction 1 1 The Classical Notion of an Art 2 2 The Classical Proverb 5 3 Classical Clues for Swimming as an Art 8

part 1 Ancient Legacy 1

The Art of Swimming: Rationale and Training 13 1 The Age for Learning to Swim 14 2 Swimming Technology 16 3 Swimming and the Natural Environment 24 4 Swim Strokes 26 5 Learning to Swim 33

2

The Art of Swimming in Practice 41 1 Rescuers 46 2 The Further Benefits of Swimming 58 3 Swimming for Pay 62

3

The Profession of Free-Diving: Rationale and Training 63 1 Free-Diving as Metaphor 64 2 Terminology and Labor Organization 71 3 Training and Gender 73

4

Free-Diving to Earn a Living 78 1 Diving for Sponges 79 2 Diving for Other Marine Species 81 3 Underwater Mining and Salvage 93 4 Building Activities (Villas / Ports / Bridges) 98

viii

Contents

5

Military Diving and Swimming: The Open Seas 102 1 Free-Diving for Military Purposes 103 2 Swimming for Military Purposes 106 3 Organized Rescue 110 4 Self-Rescue 113 5 Technological Aids 114

6

From the Open Seas to Rivers and Lakes 117 1 Greek Mercenaries in Persia 118 2 A Contrast: Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar 119 3 The Macedonians and Rome’s Militarization 132 4 Swimming Enemies 141 5 The Batavi as Supreme Swimming Auxiliaries 143 6 Swimming Heroes Battle River Gods 148

7

The End of the Ancient Tradition and Nonnus of Panopolis 152 1 Vegetius on Training 153 2 Late Antique Poets and Historians on Military Swimming 154 3 A Shift in Mood: Ausonius and Erotic Aquatics 161 4 Nonnus and the Celebration of Erotic Aquatics 162 5 Hero and Leander on Stage and in Epyllion 167 6 Nonnus bis: Literary Evidence for Free-Diving 168

part 2 Medieval Impoverishment 8

Legendary Aquatic Feats of the Middle Ages 175 1 Swimming and Diving in the Early Middle Ages 176 2 Aquatic Feats of the Heroes of Sagas and Epic 184 3 Free-Diving Heroes of Medieval Legend 195 4 Swimming and Free-Diving in Northern European Histories 199

9

The Medieval Profession of Free-Diving 212 1 Medieval Salvage Diving in Law and Practice 215 2 Free-Diving for Pearls in the Middle Ages 221 3 Free-Diving for Coral in the Middle Ages 226 4 Dante’s Free-Diver Simile 230

Contents

part 3 The Renaissance Conceptualization of Swimming and Free-Diving 10

Erasmus, Nicolas Wynman, and the First Art of Swimming 237 1 The Intuition: Italian Treatises on Education in the Humanities 238 2 The Imprimatur: The Adages of Erasmus 240 3 The Innovator: Wynman’s Latin Dialogue on How to Swim 243

11

A Cambridge Don Tackles Swimming 269 1 Digby’s Dedication to Richard Wortley 272 2 Why: Digby’s Rationale for Swimming as an Art 273 3 When and Where 276 4 How: Entries, Strokes, and Rotation 277 5 How: Methods of Turning Around 279 6 How: Fun Things to Do (Festivitates) 280 7 Head-First Diving and Free-Diving (Urinatio) 285 8 Novelty and Survival 288

12

Scholars and Engineers Contribute 292 1 Swimming as Ideal and Metaphor 294 2 Renaissance Engineers and Swimming 295 3 Renaissance Engineers and Diving 300

13

Diving in the Renaissance 309 1 Traditional Tasks 310 2 Renaissance Origins of Archaeological Diving 315 3 Science, Mathematics, and Italian Salvage Companies 321 4 Globalization 326 Conclusion 333 1 Proverbial Ignorance in the Classical World 333 2 The Legacy of Antiquity 335 3 The Middle Ages: Legendary Swimmers 347 4 The Rebirth of Swimming 351 5 The Impact on Free-Diving 359 Appendices 373 Bibliography 393 Index 442

ix

Preface The Homeric Hymn 7 to Dionysus (c. 520 BCE) described the attempted kidnaping of the god Dionysus by a sorry band of Tyrrhenian pirates. The pirates assumed that a boy in fine clothing would bring a royal ransom or rich slave bounty. Instead, Dionysus unleashed his wrath on the crew, transforming their ship into an entangling vineyard, conjuring a huge bear on deck, and changing himself into a raging lion. While the lion made for the captain, the crew abandoned ship. Diving through air into water, the pirates changed from human beings to dolphins. Seneca, in his Oedipus, depicted their metamorphosis. “First the robbers’ arms fall away, their chests are squashed to join their bellies, little hands hang down at their sides, they dive in the waves with curving backs, cut through the sea with crescent tails.”1 A need for transformation when diving into the sea does not bode well for natural human ability. Men have little hope of surviving in the water. For the ancients, the sea generated feelings of mystery and the unknown, of passage from life to death. A story from the Renaissance shifted the perspective. As a young soldier of fortune, Bartolomeo Colleoni had left Naples to seek employment in France. When his ship neared Marseilles, it was attacked by Barbary pirates, who captured the young mercenary and ferried him south toward Africa for sale into slavery. However, once Colleoni spotted the familiar coastline near Naples, he dived into the sea. Without becoming a dolphin, he successfully swam to shore. Humans trained in the art of swimming can alter the sea from a source of life-threatening danger to a locus for self-rescue. Human art demystifies nature’s power.2 This book argues that the renaissance of classical scholarship in Europe promoted serious interest in swimming and free-diving. For the ancient Greeks and Romans, the importance of swimming was proverbial. They defined an ignorant person as one who did not know the alphabet nor how to swim. N. L. Andrews, Dean of Colgate in 1896, remarked that the ancients considered one who knew neither swimming nor letters a “blockhead.”3 Future citizens, as children, were expected to master grammar and swimming in order to contribute to the common good. When Pierpaolo Vergerio wrote the first systematic treatise on a liberal education early in the fifteenth century, he recognized the importance of swimming and advocated its incorporation into the curriculum. 1 Sen. Oedipus 461–64 (Tragedies, 2004, 2:56–57). See, e.g., Beaulieu, 169–83. 2 Cornazzano, 19, 87. 3 N. L. Andrews, 105.

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Preface

Subsequent theorists of humanist education echoed Vergerio’s call, while two sixteenth-century scholars, Nicolas Wynman at the University of Ingolstadt and Everard Digby at Cambridge University, published dialogues to teach the art of swimming. The European Renaissance conceptualized swimming as an art. Wynman and Digby set down rules for success. An experienced practitioner can teach those techniques to young learners. The learners should master the art through practice in safe conditions. The research for this book was largely conducted in the libraries of UCLA and Texas A & M universities. For the opportunity to work in such splendid collections and utilize the vast resources of entire state systems, I thank the administrations of both schools, their library staffs, and their welcoming faculties. The Loyola University Libraries have built a solid collection of digital databases that I have consulted. I would like to acknowledge a few in particular: (1) Digital Loeb Classical Library, founded by James Loeb in 1911, originally edited by T. E. Page and W. H. D. Rouse, present general editor Jeffrey Henderson; (2) Brill’s New Pauly, edited by Hubert Cancik and Helmuth Schneider (Antiquity) and Manfred Landfester (Classical Tradition), English translation edited by Christine F. Salazar (Antiquity) and Francis G. Gentry (Classical Tradition); (3) Digital OED (Oxford English Dictionary); and (4) Oxford Reference Database, which includes the Oxford Classical Dictionary (4th edition), edited by Simon Hornblower, Antony Spawforth, and Esther Eidinow. The Treccani website gives public access to the Dizionario biografico degli italiani. I thank Loyola’s Interlibrary Loan Librarian, Ms. Jennifer Stegen, for responding graciously to my requests. For assistance in the closing sprint to the wall, I thank Dr. Deborah Carlson, president of the Institute of Nautical Archaeology, and Ms. Nicole Ellis, administrative assistant in Texas A & M’s Anthropology Department, for arranging a stay as a visiting scholar. It was gratifying to renew acquaintances with the other distinguished faculty of the Nautical Archaeology Program and live again at St. Anthony Catholic Church in Bryan. I have generally followed the style sheet of Renaissance Quarterly. Citations of ancient, medieval, and Renaissance works prioritize the data valid for any edition. When relevant, the general reference is followed by a citation in parentheses to the modern edition used. Abbreviations for classical authors and works follow the format of the Oxford Classical Dictionary (4th edition), http://classics.oxfordre.com/page/abbreviation-list/. I have abbreviated journal and series titles according to the ample listing of the American Journal of Archaeology. For quotations from the sources, I have expanded abbreviations and followed modern criteria for punctuation and capitalization. I have not used the recto sign except for references limited to a single folio: e.g., fols. 33– 34v, but fol. 33r–v. In the text and notes, angular brackets < > indicate editorial

Preface

xiii

additions, square brackets [] indicate editorial deletions. For the purposes of this study, the Renaissance refers to the period in European history from approximately 1350 to 1600. After entering the Jesuits, I warmed to our ideal of traveling to any part of the world. That allowed me to venture beyond my roots in Greater Cleveland. I should point out that I do not subscribe to the maxim that the farther you go from Cleveland, the greater it is. Whenever I visit, I am reminded of one of the chief reasons. I have a remarkably humane group of cousins. Whenever we meet, I renew my appreciation for the quality of their lives and the depth of their support. And they know all too well the potential dangers of water, a lesson we tragically learned more than once at a young age. Through life’s painful experiences, they have become better persons, neither resentful nor self-pitying and exceedingly charitable. I am honored to introduce readers to the clan. They are the Connares (Patricia, Kathy, Maureen, Ceci, Joe), the Steigerwalds (Joe, Patty, Loretta, Caroline), the McManamons (Mary Kay, Bob, Hugh, Clare), the Harknesses (Tom†, Nancy, Edward, Tim), the Keanes (John, Mickey†), and the Cannons (Bill, Maureen, Danny, Michael, Sheila). I gratefully dedicate this book to them.

Figures 1

2

3

4

5

6

7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Leander swimming to Hero. Casa dei Vettii, Pompeii, wall fresco. Photograph A. Krüss, Hamburg. Europeana Website from KU Leuven Libraries. https://www.europeana.eu/en/item/2024903/photography_ProvidedCHO_KU _Leuven_9988815670101488. Public Domain 31 Cloelia and her fellow hostages escape from Lars Porsenna by swimming across the Tiber. Guidoccio di Giovanni Cozzarelli, The Legend of Cloelia, cassone, tempera and gold on wood, c. 1480. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, accession number 11.126.2. Public domain 39 The Shipwreck Krater, Pithekoussai, c. 725–700 BCE. “The Maritime History Podcast.” http://maritimehistorypodcast.com/ep-026-sailing-advice-from -hesiod-the-farmer-poet/screen_shot_2014-02-21_at_80838_pm-144575 a2d6767fd67f7/ 55 Caesar’s swim at Alexandria. Jan Luyken, print, 1690. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, accession no. RP-P-1896-A-19368-845, ID no. 143588. Creative Commons 128 Horatius Cocles escapes by swimming in the Tiber after defending the bridge from Etruscan attack. Diana Scultori, engraving after Giulio Romano, c. 1575–88. Los Angeles, LACMA, Mary Stansbury Ruiz Bequest (M.88.91.153). Public domain 135 Civilis swims to safety after attacking four camps of the Romans. Antonio Tempesta, etching after Otto van Veen, Romanorum et Batavorum societas, plate 31. Rome, 1611. Public domain 147 Erik the Eloquent rescues King Frothi III. Olaus Magnus, Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 353. Rome, 1555 205 Soldier equipped with a ring float. Olaus Magnus, Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 356. Rome, 1555 207 Dogfish attacking a foreign sailor as he goes for a swim. Olaus Magnus, Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 764. Rome, 1555 209 Piero della Francesca, Madonna di Senigallia, 1470. Urbino, Galleria Nazionale delle Marche 228 Wasserkirche, Zurich. Jos (Jodocus) Murer, Murerplan (detail). Zurich, 1576 251 Swimmer partially underwater as he imitates a dolphin. Everard Digby, De arte natandi libri duo, Sig. P1v. London, 1587 288 Sebastiano Filippi, detto Bastianino, Nuoto, frescoed ceiling panel after Pirro Ligorio. Ferrara, Salone dei Giochi, Castello Estense, c. 1574–76. Sailko,

Figures Photograph, 17 February 2016. Wikipedia Commons. Creative Commons. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Castello_estense_di_ferrara ,_int.,_salone_dei_giochi,_affreschi_di_bastianino_e_ludovico_settevecchi _(post_1570)_06.JPG. With the kind permission of the administrators of the Provincia di Ferrara 290

xv

Introduction The half of me, a cold burden, the sailors drew from the sea, but the shark bit off the other half. On this beach, good Sir, they buried the vile remains of Tharsys, and I never came home to my country. Leonidas of Tarentum1

∵ The epigrammatic poet, Leonidas of Tarentum, had life experiences that allowed him to craft a sympathetic epitaph for Tharsys, a daredevil swimmer and free-diver. Born around 325 BCE, Leonidas early on championed the swashbuckling Pyrrhus of Epirus, antagonist of the Romans in their quest to conquer Southern Italy (Magna Graecia). When Pyrrhus gave up the fight, Leonidas abandoned his hometown and wandered the coastal cities and islands of Greece until he settled on Crete. Approximately one hundred epigrams are properly attributed to Leonidas. He wrote most of them for the common laborers of his day, the vine growers and fowlers and shepherds. Leonidas brought a measure of empathy and a touch of pathos to the vagaries of their livelihoods. That was particularly true for fishermen, who might die suddenly if stormy seas swamped their frail boats. When commemorating the lonely demise of an aged fisherman named Theris, Leonidas highlighted that death had freed him from the nets, rocks, and fish, which had vexed his life. He no longer tossed on the sea like a resting gull. As a “prober of crevices,” Theris may also have dived for his catch.2 If Greek fishermen were competing for a disastrous way to die, Tharsys (“Mr. Overconfidence”) need not shrink before the bar that others set high. Tharsys found himself on board a vessel whose anchor had fouled. He dived into the sea, freed the anchor, and swam back toward the surface. As he reached out to grab the extended arms of his fellow sailors, a shark bit off the lower half of his body. The sailors hauled what was left of Tharsys onto the deck, brought the remains to shore, and buried them on the beach. The epigram ended on a despondent note of such decimated flesh interred in a sandy 1 Anth. Pal. 7.506 (Greek Anthology, 1917, 2:274–75). 2 Anth. Pal. 7.295 (Greek Anthology, 1917, 2:160–61). See, e.g., Asclepiades of Samos and Leonidas of Tarentum, 123–24.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_002

2

Introduction

grave far from home. It opened on a wittily macabre note in which the personified Tharsys observed that he was buried both on land and at sea. In four short lines, Leonidas introduced basic features of ancient free-diving. It was a skill for the crew’s adventurous swimmers and useful for tasks like freeing a fouled anchor. Those who mastered the skill were proud to use it. And the dangers associated with free-diving added to its adrenalin rush. One confronted a universal paradigm of terror, the monster from the deep. Divers have long embellished the danger of their craft. Into the nineteenth century, sponge divers from the Greek islands of the Aegean harvested that valuable marine creature by free-diving. Stripping naked and slinging a net around his waist, the modern Greek free-diver uttered a prayer before plunging into the sea. The naked diver used a marble stone to plummet to the bottom. The stone’s flat shape allowed the diver to employ it as a rudder. A successful dive would yield one or two sponges while working in waters as deep as 70 m. As the need to breathe became pressing, the diver tugged on a line looped through a hole in his stone to alert the boat’s tenders to haul him back to the surface. A skilled Greek sponge diver of the nineteenth century could hold his breath for three minutes or more, giving him time to work at average depths for approximately ninety seconds. His shift of repetitive diving lasted for twelve hours a day. Among the dangers encountered, the nineteenth-century practitioners listed ruptured ear drums, drowning, and attack by sharks. A veteran diver named Antonios Angelides of Symi, still going strong at age 86, told a story about a Greek diver whose experience was reminiscent of cocksure Tharsys. The ill-starred sponge diver descended directly into the mouth of a shark and was saved only because his marble stone kept the shark from closing its jaws. Eventually, the shark spat out the diver and his salvific stone. Nicknamed “the one who was eaten by a fish” (Psarofagomenos), the fortunate diver escaped with a partially crushed skull and teeth marks to corroborate his account.3 1

The Classical Notion of an Art

There are hints that the ancients considered swimming an art, and there is clear evidence that Renaissance scholars attempted to conceptualize that art. In contrast to our modern understanding, which restricts the word to the fine arts and emphasizes the genius of the practitioner, the ancients had a broader definition. George Kennedy explained why the ancient Greeks were unusual 3 Kalafatas, 9–12.

Introduction

3

among world cultures.4 What made classical Greek civilization remarkable was the propensity of the Greeks to conceptualize human arts. All the arts of antiquity employed techniques to accomplish their purposes, and all societies practiced arts like rhetoric, given the importance of human communication. But not all societies conceptualized an art and crafted rules for success. Because the Greeks did, they made the arts distinct disciplines (grammar, rhetoric, logic, ethics, politics, medicine, physics, metaphysics). The Greeks gave the arts a terminology and taught them as educational subjects. Anthropologists have demonstrated that all societies engage in a traditional art like rhetoric. Peoples commend public speakers who show creative insight and tailor their advocacy to the situation. Public speaking is often an avenue to power. The traditional art of rhetoric is therefore conscious. Speakers know what they want to say, and they are aware of the formulae and topics that may prove useful. But traditional rhetoric is pre-conceptual: practitioners cannot give a systematic description of the method unless prompted to do so. In the Apology, Plato had Socrates ridicule fifth-century Athenian politicians and poets because they could not elucidate what they did well, deliver speeches and write verse.5 When the Greeks set out to conceptualize an art, they had two ways to do so. They could induce the rules and methods of the art, basing their system on traditional practice and observation. They could also deduce the rules and methods theoretically, beginning with binding principles and building them into a logical system of consequent rules. In the inductive way, what the Greeks call heuriskein and the Romans invenire signifies discovery; in the deductive way, it signifies creativity or inventiveness. The Greeks crafted the art of rhetoric in the self-governing cities of Magna Graecia and the homeland. Among the stimuli were a practical need for the art, the extent to which Greek society was introspective, and the values cherished by the Greeks. For example, participatory government gave rhetoric a peculiar political import. Once conceptualized, each art became a separate discipline. It had a developed theory, which admitted of later additions, it had its own logical structure, and it had a corpus of pragmatic manuals. That meant that skilled practitioners could teach the art to those with the requisite ability, and various arts made their way into the curricula of schools. To master an art, a learner needed apt talent, rigorous training, and sufficient practice in applying the rules. Any Renaissance scholar who adduced that triad understood the essential character of a classical art. 4 G. A. Kennedy, xi, 3–17. 5 Plato Apol. 21b–22c.

4

Introduction

Still today, the standard course of training in swimming sponsored by the American Red Cross bears the imprint of ancient thinking about an art and demonstrates that the system allowed for later additions. Red Cross instruction in swimming operates upon the developmental principles of learning a motor skill. A motor skill entails the artful collaboration of two systems of the human body, the muscular and nervous systems. To become proficient, the learner needs to coordinate limbs, strength, body position, balance, and perceptual aptitudes. Because we all change over the course of our lives, the Red Cross still applies the fundamental theory of an art in its developmental approach to swim training. A swim instructor begins with the learner’s physical characteristics (native ability), offers training appropriate to those characteristics, and has the learner repeatedly practice. Since changes in motor skills occur in a predictable sequence, swimming has been conceptualized inductively based upon observation of the sequence. In the early stages, learners move slowly and awkwardly and will consciously try to control their movements. Beginners overthink. At the intermediate stage, learners spend less time reflecting on every detail. They are better able to associate the movement they are practicing with other movements they already know. Their movements are rapid but inconsistent, and they show increased understanding of the skill. At the advanced level, the learner’s movements become accurate and fluid. They know almost instinctively what to do, even if refinement can continue for years. The Red Cross says that advanced learners understand the skill technique; the ancients would say that they have mastered the art. For ancients and moderns, the teacher plays the crucial role in communicating an art. Development in the art of swimming is tied to physical changes and age, but it occurs at varying rates. Good swim instructors recognize the differing movements associated with various levels of mastery. They assign easier swimming skills to beginners, building from one to the next so as not to overload the rational circuits. They assign more challenging skills to advanced swimmers, focusing on the integration of all the movements in a flowing stroke. The teaching progression advances in keeping with the naturally occurring patterns of a motor skill. Based on visual observation, the teacher corrects improper technique and assigns drills for proper technique. Familiarity with the predictable order allows the instructor to anticipate the skills a learner will next need. For example, when first learning a flutter kick on the stomach, most beginners pump their legs as if they were riding a bicycle. By using proven drills, the swimmer learns not to bend the legs at the knees and to kick from the hips and thighs. Once that element is mastered, the teacher can introduce another. The teacher should encourage the learner to practice all the elements together

Introduction

5

in order to master the art. Over time, one action becomes more closely associated with other related actions. The stroke called front crawl offers a good example, where a swimmer eventually learns to integrate rotary breathing with the flutter kick and especially the arm stroke. The accomplished swimmer of front crawl no longer rotates into a recovering arm but does breathe on both sides.6 2

The Classical Proverb

The Greeks and Romans so valued swimming that they defined abject ignorance through the proverb, “neither letters nor swimming.” Plato was among the first Greek authors to acknowledge the wisdom of the saying. In the Laws, Plato had an Athenian participant describe his ideal city as one characterized by citizens who harmonized their emotions and reasoning, even if those citizens did not know letters (grammata) nor how to swim (nein). For the hyperbole to have its desired effect, Plato implied that most citizens of Athens were literate and could swim.7 Sometime between 37 and 41 CE, Seneca the Elder quoted the Greek proverb in the original language when he reported a wisecrack that Asilius Sabinus made to Antonia, the mother of Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus. Domitius Ahenobarbus was the husband of Agrippina and father of Nero. His mother worried about her son’s reputation for indolence while serving as a consul. Asilius assured Domitius that he had sought to use his wit to put an anxious mother at ease. Although Domitius had done little more than add a bath complex to his house overlooking the Sacra Via and try out his declamations on skilled rhetoricians, he had at least proved that he was not ignorant. Asilius summarized those limited accomplishments by reversing the terms: first swimming (kolumban) by building the ample baths, then letters (grammata) by composing declamatory exercises.8 Gaius Licinius Mucianus, consul in 72 during the reign of Vespasian, tried to undermine the credibility of philosophers in Rome who were urging pedestrians to voice their opposition to Titus as Vespasian’s successor. Those eccentric characters roamed the city barefoot, boasting of their courage, their ethics, and their sublime wisdom. The truth was they may not know letters (grammata) nor how to swim (nein). Mucianus seemed to apply the adage appropriately. Vespasian soon banished from the capital almost all the philosophers and 6 American Red Cross Water Safety Instructor’s Manual, 18–38. 7 Pl. Leg. 689d. See, e.g., Janni, 342. 8 Sen. Controv. 9.18. See, e.g., Barrett, 40–45.

6

Introduction

the entire crowd of astrologers.9 Suetonius incorporated the proverb when he claimed that, among other basic lessons, Augustus taught his grandsons letters (litterae) and how to swim (natare).10 The classical conviction that knowing how to swim was as important as knowing how to read and write survived in the lives of the philosophers that Eunapius wrote after 404 CE. In the biography of the Neoplatonist Maximus of Ephesus, his unnamed wife won Eunapius’s praise for living an authentically philosophical life. Women poured into the couple’s home by the sidedoor in order to meet her. So profound was the wife’s knowledge of philosophy that it made Maximus appear to be the one who did not know how to swim or recite his alphabet.11 To define ignorance as “neither letters nor swimming” means that the conclusions scholars have reached about the diffusion of ancient literacy may be applied to gauge the depth of the commitment to teach young people to swim and its rate of success.12 The skills of writing and reading establish inequalities in society. Some write and read well and do so often; others write and read poorly and do so infrequently. The determination regarding who learns is ideological, the implementation of that decision is educational. And within the basic distinction between those who can and those who cannot write and read, there is a spectrum of ability from illiterate to functionally illiterate to semi-literate to highly literate. Writing was used in various political contexts to construct power relations, and literacy in ancient times was not a univocal phenomenon nor an autonomous force. It could be taught to effect change and promote liberation, but it was also used for regressive policies. Although the ancient world evolved from oral culture to written culture, orality remained a consistent characteristic of classical society. A fair number of people learned the content of written texts from hearing them read aloud, and rhetoric was the principal discipline in ancient education. By the time of Aristotle, the Greek world appreciated that writing diffused knowledge and conserved ideas for others to consult. By the time Greek culture reached Rome in the Hellenistic age, writing increasingly came to permeate private life.

9 Cass. Dio 65 (Epitome).13.1a. See, e.g., Levick, 1999, 89–90. 10 Suet. Aug. 64.3 (Lives, 1914, 1:244): “Nepotes et litteras et natare aliaque rudimenta per se plerumque docuit, ac nihil aeque elaboravit quam ut imitarentur chirographum suum.” Justus Lipsius amended the text to read “notare.” On swim training in antiquity, see, e.g., Sanders; H. A. Harris, 115–26; Orme, 1–9; and Maniscalco. 11 Eunap. VS 477. See, e.g., Watts, 82–83, 101–02. 12 See, e.g., Reynolds and Wilson, 1–37; Reggiani, 23–87; Rosalind Thomas; Petrucci, 1993, 1–15; and Petrucci, 2002.

Introduction

7

It is therefore difficult to determine the number of people in antiquity who could read and write. According to the estimates of William Harris, the Hellenistic cities achieved the highest rate of literacy, between twenty and thirty percent of the population.13 That range ranks well below the mass literacy that modern industrial societies have achieved. Moreover, the higher rates of basic literacy among urban citizens occurred in specific moments and among defined groups. Evidence from Athens in the fifth century indicates a widespread, public use of writing and reading. In keeping with democratic ideals, public writing in Athens was clearly disposed, highly legible, and precisely dated. The Hellenistic cities achieved positive results by supporting elementary education. Once the Romans moderated the rigor of their traditional conservatism with Hellenistic ideals of urbanity, they organized their educational programs to suit developmental stages in maturation. At the height of Rome’s Empire, the programs bore tangible fruit. Writing became ubiquitous in Roman cities as formal inscriptions and popular graffiti filled the streets. Craft literacy spread widely through the Mediterranean. At every juncture, literacy increased as writing and reading proved capable of addressing societal needs. And, as the proverb indicated, literacy began with letters, learning the alphabet and building those letters into words, phrases, and coherent sentences. The fact that writing was a manual task affected ancient attitudes toward literacy. Manual labor was considered below the dignity of society’s elite, and writing in particular was a physical activity of such low status that slaves did much of the work. Building on those social mores, ancient oligarchs exercised various forms of control over literacy. They might conduct the business of government in a language other than the one spoken by the people, they might treat reading and writing differently, and they might limit educational opportunities. In all societies, schooling comprises the primary institutional means to diffuse literacy. In late Republican Rome, public schooling received little support, in large part because schooling was seen as a privilege of class and status. Children were taught in large aristocratic households, usually by Greek slaves. Class trumped gender: girls received tutoring if they too were from a patrician family. As schooling evolved to become more public in Rome, it followed stages in growth. At puberty, men could fight in the army and women could bear children. Before puberty, Roman children received an elementary education in letters: from age 7 to 11, they learned the fundamentals of the alphabet, writing and reading, and simple arithmetical calculation. From age 12 to 17, they studied grammar and learned principles for character development applicable to their new sexual development. The final stage was mastery 13 W. V. Harris.

8

Introduction

of rhetoric, the essential skill for a committed citizenry. “Neither letters nor swimming” was to be addressed at the elementary level. Scholarship on literacy in antiquity provides a set of questions for the parallel skill of swimming. Who was taught to swim, and at what age? Did class affect that decision? Did the dissemination of swimming vary according to time, place, political ideology? One can also investigate the persons who taught swimming, the settings in which they taught, and the methods that they used. Did slaves generally teach swimming because it was a manual art? Were classes subsidized publicly, or were they restricted to the households of those who could afford tutors? Did the ancients conceptualize swimming as an art, with its own rules for success and a structured program of practice for the learner? Most importantly, what economic and political factors affected the perception of a need to know how to swim? Were there ways to earn a living from swimming in antiquity beyond teaching the skill? Swimming was an essential survival skill for those who worked or traveled on the sea. And swimming offered benefits for ancient polities which engaged in war at sea or on land. 3

Classical Clues for Swimming as an Art

As early as the Gorgias of Plato, there are hints that the ancients sought to conceptualize swimming as an art (technē / ars). As for rhetoric, roving instructors might teach the skill for a fee. In a seminal dialogue on rhetoric, Plato compared courtroom oratory to other arts (technai) that preserve human beings from mortal danger. He cited piloting a ship, engineering, and swimming. As rhetoric comprised an art that protected lives in the courtroom, so swimming comprised an art that saved lives in the water. But Plato qualified his positive assessment by noting that saving a life does not indicate if one will later benefit from surviving. In pursuing the good, we should be concerned for the quality of life, not merely prolonging it. That led Plato to argue that swimming was a coherent form of knowledge (hē tou nein epistēmē), but society should not exaggerate its value.14 Four centuries later, when defending a controversial treatise on the art of seduction, Ovid offered Augustus a listing of the leisure activities on which poets had written didactic works. They included dice games, ball games, rolling a hoop, applying makeup, and swimming. The poems were written to instruct the learner in mastering an art (artem … praecipit). The use of the language of art by Plato in Greek and Ovid in Latin, separated by over four hundred years, 14 Pl. Grg. 511b–c.

Introduction

9

suggests that Greeks and Romans tried to reduce swimming to a set of rules. Tacitus applied the same language to accentuate the prowess of the German Batavi in the “art of swimming” (ars nandi).15 As a corollary, ancient thinkers emphasized that we are not natural swimmers and need training and practice. The Younger Seneca observed that it is easy for humans to complain if they focus only on the abilities we lack by nature. He had heard disgruntled compatriots complain that the gods were stingy toward us and generous to other creatures. Elephants were bigger, stags faster, and dogs keener in their sense of smell. Many animals surpass humans in their ability to swim (nandi facilitas). We are not the natural swimmers that some animals are, but our capacity to learn should keep us from lamenting our fate.16 Plutarch conceded that we might react dispassionately when an enemy hurled verbal abuse our way. He argued that repeated experience of insult made it easier to handle the situation with composure. To react instinctively, without conscious discipline, was like a novice swimmer trusting his natural ability to make it past a rugged rock. We are wiser to engage in regular practice before attempting a dangerous swim.17 In the second half of the second century, Sextus Empiricus introduced the art of swimming in an argument to prove that God did not exist. The Greek skeptic began from the premise that if God existed, God would be naturally omniscient. The general proposition that any God who exists is naturally omniscient led to a minor premise that we cannot then ascribe any action by an omniscient God to mastery of an art. That is because the arts deal with matters that are not self-evident and have to be learned. Belittling the omniscient God before negating his existence, Sextus compared all that an omniscient God could do to the natural ability of a frog or dolphin to swim. Neither frogs nor dolphins had to master the art of swimming (technē nēktikē). The province of an art for Sextus was the non-evident, that which we do not apprehend on our own. Since an omniscient God naturally apprehends all, we should not ascribe any art that is learned to God. But if God has not mastered any art, that would include the art of moral living. And if God has not mastered that crucial art and the virtue that flows from it, God does not exist.18 In the way that Sextus Empiricus constructed the argument, he assumed that swimming was 15 Ov. Tr. 2.485–86 (Tristia, 1924, 92): “Ecce canit formas alius iactusque pilarum / hic artem nandi praecipit, ille trochi.” Tac. Ann. 2.8 (Annals, 1931, 3:394): “postremum auxiliorum agmen Batavique in parte ea, dum insultant aquis artemque nandi ostentant, turbati et quidam hausti sunt.” 16 Sen. Ben. 2.29.1. 17 Plut. Mor. De capienda ex inimicis utilitate 90d, citing an unnamed source. 18 Sext. Emp. Math. 9–10, Adversus physicos 1.171–73.

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an art familiar to his audience. We do not swim naturally as frogs and dolphins do. We must learn the skill. Thirteen centuries later, Erasmus discussed the ancient adage to foster renewed appreciation for letters and swimming. Elementary education for all children in antiquity trained them in basic literacy and swimming. In analyzing “neither swimming nor letters,” Erasmus cited Plato’s Laws and the third oration of Aristides in defense of four great Athenian statesmen. The proverb referred to one exceedingly ignorant. In Athens and Rome, the first two skills taught to children were grammar and swimming. Erasmus likewise adduced from the Latin author Suetonius the examples of Augustus teaching his grandsons to swim and Caligula never learning to do so. Erasmus saw the ideal in classical times as universal since it was endorsed by Athenian and Roman authors alike. Citizens who failed to acquire those basic skills learned nothing of the good arts in childhood.19 That pitiable state of ignorance applied to a significant percentage of Western society. If swimming were to reacquire the importance that it had in ancient Greece and Rome, it would need a rebirth. Humanist scholarship promoted interest in swimming as an art.20 19 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.4.13 (Adages, 1982, 31:330–31): “Neque natare, neque literas.” Erasmus cited Pl. Leg. 3.689d; Aristid. Or. 46, De quattuorviris 285 (Aristides, 1829, 2:368); Suet. Aug. 64.3, Calig. 54.2. 20 See, e.g., Orme, 46–51, 69–71.

part 1 Ancient Legacy

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The Art of Swimming: Rationale and Training On one occasion, when a certain orator, Julius Gallicus, was pleading a case, Claudius became vexed and ordered him to be cast into the Tiber, near which he chanced to be holding court. Cassius Dio 56.33.81

∵ The Greeks and Romans used anecdotes to illustrate the importance of knowing how to swim, especially when one least expected to have to do so. Cassius Dio conserved a story about the emperor Claudius (r. 41–54 CE) that exemplified his serendipity when presiding at trial. He privileged his own judgment over legal precedent. Anytime Claudius took the bench, rules of decorum were suspended, and court became exciting. On one occasion the emperor endured the affront of a defendant so fed up with the proceedings that he hurled his stylus at the emperor and cut his face. On another he showed little patience with the inept pleading of Julius Gallicus. Fed up with his shenanigans, Claudius had the lawyer thrown into the Tiber. Claudius honored the customs of Gallicus’s Gallic ancestry but left the accused lawyer-less. The defendant approached the renowned advocate Gnaeus Domitius Afer, he too from Gallia Narbonensis. Domitius Afer teased the prospective client by inquiring who had informed him that he, Domitius, was a better swimmer than Julius Gallicus. Diogenes Laertius recalled an occasion on which the philosopher Eurylochus welcomed the freedom offered by facility in swimming. Eurylochus one day found himself so hard pressed by the relentless questioning of his students that, to escape, he stripped and swam the Alpheus River. The ancients apparently saw a value in a professor’s learning to swim if he needed to flee overly inquisitive students. The Alpheus was a particularly appropriate river to traverse. Myth had it that, in pursuing the nymph Arethusa, the river god Alpheus swam from the Peloponnesus to Sicily and managed to remain fresh water.2

1 Dio’s Roman History, 1925, 8:24–25. See, e.g., Levick, 2015, 137–41; and Bablitz, 36–39, 152. 2 Diog. Laert. 9.11.68–69. See, e.g., France, 116–24; and Bett, 65–66, 74n30.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_003

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The Age for Learning to Swim

The ancient proverb suggests that learners got an early start on mastering the art of swimming. A race of disciplined warriors tempered from birth by habituation to icy waters was a commonplace of ancient literature. In the Aeneid, Numanus Remulus taunted the dainty Trojans who had recently arrived on the shores of Italy. The Trojans lacked the toughness of the old Latin natives. The Latins dipped their newborn babies in cruelly cold waters to harden them from infancy for a life spent using iron to farm and fight.3 In his Argonautica, Valerius Flaccus modeled his taunting Scythian hero Gesander on Numanus Remulus and the old Latins of Virgil. The Scythians gave the visiting argonauts a guided tour through their nomadic landscape, far from the Greek civilization of walled cities and seaborne commerce. Their fields of Mars are the snowcovered mountains, frozen expanses, and pitiless streams which they use to steel their infants for the hostility of adulthood.4 The regimented Spartans likewise acquired a reputation for inuring their infants to the rigors of swimming in icy waters. Seneca the Elder hailed the Eurotas River, which flowed around Sparta, because it acclimatized Spartan children to the endurance required for future military engagement. As Seneca aged, he became wistful that he had to abandon swimming in chilly water. Statius made swimming in the frigid Eurotas an identifying characteristic of the Spartan king Oebalus.5 Martial portrayed his fellow Celtiberians swimming in the shallow Salo (Jalón) River near his hometown of Bilbilis in Hispania Tarraconensis (Aragón). The Bilbilians sequenced their swimming, first paddling in warm Congedus and gentle lakes, likely the sulfur springs at Aquae Bilbitanorum (Alhama de Aragón). They next leapt into the waters of the Salo that chill steel.6 An anonymous epigram in the Greek Anthology claimed that a German father would not acknowledge a male infant as his own until he conducted a test to assure his wife’s fidelity. If the infant survived a plunge into the unpredictable Rhine, the plunger knew that he was the biological father.7 Solid textual evidence for teaching the art of swimming to prepubescent Roman children comes from the domestic choices that distinguished families made. Because the elder Cato felt that the education of his son was too important to entrust to others, he taught his son to swim. The caring father 3 Verg. Aen. 9.598–620. See, e.g., Horsfall; and Görler, 283–86. 4 Valerius Flaccus Argon. 6.279–385. See, e.g., Goldenberg, 91–95; and Wijsman, 3, 128–30, 136–40. 5 Stat. Theb. 10.497–502; and Sen. Suas. 2.5. See, e.g., Lovatt, 183–88. 6 Mart. 1.49.1–12 (Epigrams, 1993, 1:74–75). Sullivan, 14–15, 170–75, 179–84. 7 Anth. Pal. 9.125 (Greek Anthology, 1917, 3:64), where the Germans are labeled “Keltoi.”

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took it upon himself to introduce his son to letters and jurisprudence, and he drilled the boy in athletic exercises that included swimming through (dianēchomenon) the eddies and currents of the Tiber. Augustus taught his grandsons Gaius Iulius Caesar and Lucius Iulius Caesar to swim. Augustus could likely impress on them the importance of the skill since he had survived a shipwreck in 46 BCE while on the way to join his great-uncle Julius Caesar in fighting the sons of Pompey in Spain.8 Septimius Severus, grandfather of the future emperor, washed away his African roots in Lepcis by coming as a child to Southern Etruria and Rome and pursuing an education among the sons of the Latin elite. The process of cultural integration began early on when Septimius, who knew nothing of Africa’s shallows, learned to swim in the waters of the Tuscan (Tyrrhenian) Sea. Septimius was fortunate to have Quintilian for his tutor and learned swimming even before he learned Latin letters.9 In regard to swimming, the apple did not fall far from the Severan tree. Emperor Septimius (r. 193–211) assured that his son Caracalla be schooled in all the liberal arts that developed mind and body. As Caracalla matured, he neglected intellectual activities to focus on the physical. If exercising, rough surf did not deter him from swimming (nēchestai).10 Fictional literature presented similar vignettes of learning to swim in childhood. When Martial praised the boy Cestus (infantia), he imagined that Diana herself would want to teach him how to swim and accompany him in the water.11 Statius portrayed shaggy-legged Pan as a frustrated lover because he was “untaught to swim from boyhood” (a tenero).12 In a dialogue entitled The Ship or Wishes, Lucian composed needling banter among Adimantus, Lycinus, and Timolaus. When Adimantus revealed that he would like to see the grain stored on a large Alexandrian freighter turn to gold, Lycinus warned him that such a transformation of the cargo would sink the ship. And were the ship to sink, Lycinus expressed concern for the safety of Adminatus’s newly acquired servant boy, who was still learning how to swim.13 Xenophon of Ephesus described in his novel The Ephesian Tale (Ephesiaca) that a thief named Hippothous had rescued a boy he loved named Hyperanthes from a pedophile Alexandrian merchant. The two boarded a ship from Byzantium for Asia, but their escape was cut short when a strong wind sank the ship off 8 Plut. Vit. Cat. Mai. 20.4; Suet. Aug. 64.1; and Plin. HN 7.148. For Augustus’s difficulties at sea, see Suet. Aug. 8.1; App. B Civ. 5(17).85–86, 111–12. 9 Stat. Silv. 4.5.29–46. See, e.g., Birley, 1988, 18–20. 10 Cass. Dio 78 (Epitome).11.3–4. 11 Mart. 8.46.1–4. 12 Stat. Silv. 2.3.31–38 (Silvae, 2015, 118–19). 13 Luc. Navigium seu Vota 18–19.

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Lesbos. Hippothous swam alongside the smaller Hyperanthes and supported him to expedite the long swim to shore. When night fell, the boy no longer had the strength to swim or hold on, and he drowned.14 Latin sources depict males as masters of the skill of swimming by late adolescence, the moment when they assumed the duties of a citizen. Cicero mocked Clodia for ogling young men from a discreet location in her gardens along the Tiber. She could evaluate virile candidates for seduction as they swam naked before her.15 In one of his odes, Horace assumed the persona of a lovestruck young woman named Neobule, pining for her beloved Hebrus. As soon as Neobule imagined Hebrus, glistening with oil after wrestling and immersing his massive shoulders to swim in the Tiber River, she could no longer concentrate on stitching baskets or clothing. It seems appropriate that a man named for a river excelled as a swimmer. Horace described another attractive male swimmer in an ode addressed to Asterie. While her husband conducted business across the sea, Asterie was smitten by Enipeus once she observed him training in public. Named once again for a river, the Enipeus (Tsanarlis) in central Greece, the vigorous young athlete swam faster in the Tiber than anyone else. The fact that Horace could rank Enipeus the fastest swimmer suggests that young men engaged in swimming competitions.16 Ovid included swimming among the games that men play, and women do not. Women could find athletic young men swimming in the Tiber River and the frigid Maiden. By “the Maiden” Ovid meant the Euripus, an artificial canal carrying water from the Aqua Virgo through the Campus Martius to the river. The man-made channel provided a place to swim at the point where it flowed past the newly erected baths of Agrippa. But the Tiber at the Campus Martius was the favorite swimming hole for young men in Rome.17 2

Swimming Technology

2.1 Flotation Devices To teach children to swim, the ancients used two technological aids. First, to help novice swimmers overcome their fear and become comfortable in the water, they introduced flotation devices. Positively buoyant materials such 14 15 16 17

Xen. Eph. Ephes. 3.10–13. Cic. Cael. 15.36. Hor. Carm. 3.12.7–9, 3.7.25. See, e.g., Cairns, 1995, 72–75, 83. Ov. Ars am. 3.381–86 (Art of Love, 1929, 144–45). Ovid supplied a similar listing in Tr. 3.12.19. See, e.g., P. W. Jacobs, II, and Atnally Conlin, 112–31.

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as cork, reeds, turtle shells, inflatable skins, and skins filled with straw were employed as floats.18 Roman authors described teachers utilizing floats. A character in Plautus offered the analogy of swim lessons to enlighten slaves on how to prevent an infatuated master from acting rashly. Swim instructors do not allow children to go too quickly as they are learning. Novice swimmers should lie on a reed raft (scirpea ratis) so that they do not fight the water and can move their arms to practice a stroke.19 Horace described a similar process but spoke of a cork float. His father supported him through practical guidance on ethical behavior as a cork float supported a child learning to swim. Once the child mastered the art, he would “swim without cork.”20 The authors clarified that instructors should only use the float early in a swimmer’s training and gradually wean him from that aid. The ancients explored the buoyant properties of various objects and adapted floats to a variety of needs. Planked rafts supported by large ceramic wine containers called dolia ferried captured elephants from Sicily across the Straits of Messina to the mainland for use in the triumph of Lucius Caecilius Metellus (250 BCE), but similar rafts gave way as they ferried the retreating army of Spartacus in the opposite direction (72 BCE). Spartacus had to cobble his rafts together using wicker fastenings.21 The ancients utilized ox-hide bags to store smaller quantities of wine and pressed them into service as floats for rafts. Pliny described an Arab tribe of Red Sea pirates who made rafts of timber placed on a pair of inflated ox-hides. He called them “Ascitae” from the Greek word for wine-skin (askos). A raft made up of inflated skins (askoi) supporting wooden planks was used to ferry products like incense to the entrepôt at Cane (Kanê) on the southern Arabian coast.22 Columella described the possibility of growing two species of gourd whose fruits had distinct applications. The long-fruited species was edible; the broader fruit, once thoroughly dried, could serve as a container for pitch and honey, a pail for water, or a flask for wine. The gourd’s natural seal likewise made it suitable for use as a float for boys learning to swim. Columella likely referred in 18

19 20 21 22

Floats from skins stuffed with straw: Curt. 7.9.4. Bridge floats made from air-filled skins: Xen. An. 3.5.7–12. Raft floats made from tent skins filled with hay: Xen. An. 1.5.10; Arr. Anab. 1.3.7. Raft floats from animal hides: Peripl. M. Rubri 27 (Periplus Maris Erythraei, 66–67). Raft floats from ox bladders: Plin. HN 6.176. Raft floats from wineskins supporting beds taken from farmhouses: Amm. Marc. 30.1.8–10. Turtle shells used as rafts: Plin. HN 9.35. Plaut. Aulularia 592–98. See, e.g., Orme, 4. Hor. Sat. 1.4.115–20 (Satires, 1926, 58–59). See, e.g., Schlegel, 39–51. For Lucius Caecilius Metellus, see Frontin. Str. 1.7.1; Plin. HN 7.139–40, 8.16, 18.17 (citing Varro); and Lazenby, 1996, 120–22. For Spartacus, see Flor. 3.20 (2.8.12–14). Plin. HN 6.176; and Peripl. M. Rubri 27 (Periplus Maris Erythraei, 66–67). See, e.g., McLaughlin, 128–33.

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both instances to a calabash or bottle gourd.23 The Lucilius who wrote Greek epigrams at the time of Nero recorded a bizarre flotation device. He celebrated the survival of a shipwrecked Dionysius, whose quick thinking led him to tie between his thighs a sack that had filled around his testicle with fluid (hydrocele). With his buoyancy improved, Dionysius then swam to shore, leading Lucilius to note that “even a hydrocele brings luck on occasion.”24 Pliny labeled a people residing along the East African coast south of Egypt the Trogodytae (Cave-dwellers). They used the horns of a species of turtle as a swim aid.25 In Lycophron’s Alexandra, Dardanus found himself caught in the Great Flood. To survive, he needed to swim from the island of Samothrace to the mainland. In making the crossing, Dardanus utilized one of the oddest ancient flotation devices. The text speaks of his body sheathed in animal skin. To complicate matters, Lycophron compared Dardanus’s device to a Danubian fishtrap with four projecting legs. One theory argues that Lycophron described an inflated skin that Dardanus wore, another that Lycophron described an inflated skin raft on which Dardanus lay and propelled himself with a single paddle. His paddling a raft made some sense of the fact that Lycophron likened Dardanus and his device to “a warship with one bank of oars” (monērēs).26 Whatever the apparatus, it complemented the skill of Dardanus as a swimmer. He moved as fluently as a sea bird from northern Crete (kepphos). Lycophron may have meant the storm petrel (Hydrobates pelagicus). W. Geoffrey Arnott characterized the storm petrel as a tiny sea bird whose feet patter on the water as it flutters above. Though the bird can swim, it usually flies just off the waves, seeming to skip over the surface.27 The historian Ammianus Marcellinus (c. 330–c. 400 CE) recounted that soldiers fighting for and against Rome used their shields as a float. When Julian was Caesar for Gaul and wanted to dislodge the Alamanni from islands in the Rhine River, he dispatched his light-armed auxiliaries. The troops waded through the shallows or swam on their shields, as if they were dugout canoes. When the defeated coalition of Germans under Chnodomar took to the Rhine River after the battle of Strasbourg (357), some adroitly maneuvered their shields to avoid the high crests of onrushing waves. When Julian was Emperor and moving his troops across the Tigris River during the invasion of Persia (363), some of his soldiers panicked from fear of being left behind. They launched themselves on 23 24 25 26 27

Columella Rust. 10.383–88. See, e.g., Janick, Paris, and Parrish, 1444–45. Anth. Pal. 6.166 (Greek Anthology, 1916, 1:384–85). Plin. HN 9.38. Lycoph. Alex. 69–85. See, e.g., Alexandra, 2015, 138–43; and McNelis and Sens, 28–29, 71. Arnott, 90–91.

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their wide curved shields, and, with little dexterity in steering, they still managed to keep up with the ships ferrying troops across the river.28 To work in the water, the shields for lighter-armed, auxiliary troops had to be manufactured from buoyant materials like wicker strips covered by leather hide. Legionary wooden shields typically had iron bands along their top and bottom edges and an iron boss in the center. They weighed about 10 kg. The comparison to dugouts suggests a concave shape.29 Ammianus also cataloged multiple uses of an inflated leather bag for flotation. When the Persians flooded the ground over which the Romans had to march, Julian had small bridges floated on inflated leather bags. During their retreat from Persia, the Romans crafted pontoon bridges from inflated bladders, and, at the Tigris, some soldiers sat on inflated bladders and paddled across. In 372 King Pap(a) of Armenia escaped from the prison where Emperor Valens was holding him captive. The king and his 300 horsemen reached the Euphrates River, but they were afraid to swim across. They did not know how to swim (nandi imprudentia). Reacting quickly, they tied together a pair of inflated wineskins as a support for the mattresses they purloined from local farmhouses. Most successfully floated across the eddying Euphrates on proper waterbeds. Those who tried to swim across on their horses, by contrast, largely drowned.30 2.2 Artificial Pools The other technological contributor to swimming in antiquity was the manmade pool. The ancients generally offered instruction in a familiar environment like a river, but, on occasion, they conducted training in a swimming pool. The preponderance of evidence for the use of swimming pools, public and private, comes from Roman sources. Unlike the Greeks, who generally built in harmony with the setting, the Romans were inclined to engineer the environment. In an era before chemicals to sanitize a pool’s water, the task was formidable. It required aqueducts to supply water, conduits to move the water, drains to assure constant flushing of the water, and, at the high end, a boiler to heat the water. The pool basin itself had to be watertight. The Romans benefitted from their use of a type of hydraulic concrete. Known technically as opus signinum (cocciopesto), the plaster was mixed by adding crushed terra-cotta to a mortar of pozzolana, and the mix yielded a strong hydraulic sealant used to waterproof aqueduct channels, cisterns, fishponds, and bathing pools. 28 Amm. Marc. 16.11.9, 16.12.57, 24.6.7. See, e.g., Blockley, 220–21; and Boeft et al., 182–83. 29 See, e.g., Bishop and Coulston, 61–63, 137–39, 179–82, 216–18, 246–47. 30 Amm. Marc. 24.3.10–11, 25.6.15, 25.8.2–3, 30.1.8–10. See, e.g., Boeft et al., 89–93.

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There are scattered references to swimming pools in Greek sources. Translators use the English expression “swimming baths” for the Greek kolymbēthra. The baths were generally pooling of natural hot springs in which bathers would soak for therapeutic benefits.31 Plutarch called the sulfurous pools near the resort town of Aedespus swimming baths. Greeks used those waters for relief from gout or skin diseases.32 Pausanias characterized the waters that flowed into the swimming baths of Thermopylae as the purest blue he knew. Called locally the “Women’s Pots,” the two pools fed by hot springs gave the famous pass its name, the “Hot Gates.”33 The romantic novel that Longus wrote about Daphnis and Chloe (c. 200 CE) depicted a group of wealthy young men who went for an outing on a small oared yacht. The leisure cruise passed along the seaside farms of Mytilene on the island of Lesbos. The coastline was developed with residences, parks, and groves, both natural and artificial, and the sightseers enjoyed views of swimming pools aligned one after another.34 The exotic character of a man-made swimming pool for the Greeks is confirmed by the accounts of such facilities in India. Dio Chrysostom chronicled testimonies for the existence in India of a sequence of baths with warm water whiter than silver and cold water strikingly blue. According to the same reports, India also had rivers of milk and wine. That was Dio’s rhetorical cue to take the reports with a grain of salt.35 Philostratus included information about the encounters that Apollonius of Tyana had with swimming baths and pools while traveling through India. In the land of the Sophoi, believers stripped off their clothing, anointed their heads with an oil that caused sweating, jumped into a swimming bath to wash, emerged, dressed, put on garlands, and processed to their temple singing a hymn.36 Philostratus offered a description of the athletic complex at a palace in the city of Sirkap that belonged to King Gondophares (r. 20–46 CE). The king spoke Greek, exercised in Greek fashion, and swam in a pool he had built between his twin gymnasia. After hurling the discus or javelin and working up

31 32 33 34 35

See, e.g., Mart. 6.43.1–4 (sulfur water of Baiae). Plut. Mor. De frat. amor. 487f. Paus. 4(Messenia).35.9. Longus Daphnis and Chloe 2.12.1–2. Dio Chrys. Or. 35.20. Strabo observed that what westerners reported about India was based upon minimal travel, frequently contradicted what other westerners reported, and more often than not relied on rumor, not observation. See Strabo 15.1.2–3. 36 Philostr. V A 3.17.1.

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a sweat, the king and his cohorts jumped into that conveniently situated pool and continued to exercise by swimming.37 The gymnasium that Pausanias mentioned at Delphi conserves archaeological evidence for a pool. The large, circular, open-air bathing facility offered athletes a place to cool down and perhaps even swim after working out in other parts of the complex.38 Of Greek ancestry, the municipality of Herculaneum had a public facility for exercise and competition (palaestra), consisting of columned porticoes on three sides surrounding a large exercise field equipped with two pools. The principal pool was shaped like a cross. A second smaller pool was rectangular in shape and deeper than the cross-shaped pool. The large pool had fountain jets at both ends and a sizable bronze sculpture at the intersection of its two wings. The sculpture displayed a serpent, whose five heads jetted water into the basin. That pool was long enough for serious swimming (45 m × 30 m) but overbuilt for that purpose. It seems better suited for washing off and cooling down while socializing. Archaeologists also debate the purpose of the shorter, deeper pool, which may have served as a fishpond.39 In the first century CE, at nearby Pompeii, a swimming pool was added to the palaestra adjoining the amphitheater. Some archaeologists link the public facility to the military training of aristocratic youth, in keeping with the wishes of Augustus. If so, those young people had priority for use of the facility. When not used for military drilling, the pool would be open to residents. Other archaeologists feel the facility had a public purpose, particularly during religious festivals. The longstanding Stabian Baths may have received a swimming pool in the rebuild after the earthquake of 62 CE. A private health club, the Praedia of Julia Felix, was built after that same earthquake and did have a swimming pool for the use of its clients.40 The government of the city of Rome likely transformed a large reservoir near the Porta Capena into a public swimming pool, which gave its name to the administrative region (Piscina Publica). Once aqueducts brought water from outside the city, the reservoir had outlived its original purpose. Verrius Flaccus (d. after 14 CE) noted that the name remained but the pool where Romans went to swim (natatum) no longer existed.41 In imperial times, the public 37 Philostr. V A 2.27.2. See, e.g., De Beauvoir Priaulx, 78–79; and Karttunen, “Taxila,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. 38 Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).8.8; and Pausanias, Description of Greece, 1935, 5:70. See, e.g., Sprawson, 49–67. 39 Deiss, 149–53; and Pappalardo, 190–91. 40 See, e.g., Yegül; Ling, 123; Parslow, 217–18; and Koloski-Ostrow, 225–31, 237, 247. 41 Sextus Pompeius Festus, De verborum significatu, 1933, 232.12–15. See, e.g., L. Richardson, 292; and Coarelli, 1999, 93–94.

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baths at times had a pool sufficient for swimming. Martial once expressed his frustration with the poet Ligurinus, who was obsessed with reciting to Martial no matter where they were. He declaimed to a standing or seated Martial, he ran alongside Martial to badger him, and he even recited while Martial was on the toilet “to shit.”42 When Ligurinus began to read in the baths, Martial tried to outfox him by going for a swim in the pool (piscina). Ligurinus thwarted Martial’s plan by impeding his progress in that constricted space and forcing him to stand up and listen. Seneca experienced frustration related to unwanted noise after he rented a room above a bath complex. He could hear the weightlifters grunting to make one more, the ball-players tallying up their successful shots, and, most annoying of all, amateur Carusos singing their poems while bathing. Acrobatic swimmers would launch themselves into the pool (piscina) and make a booming splash.43 Seneca also supplied vivid descriptions of the lavish private villas that Rome’s elite built during the early Empire. He did so with characteristic contempt for hedonistic decadence. Contemporary villas screamed selfindulgence in their walls with large mirrors, their marbles from Alexandria, their mosaics of Numidian stone, and their vaulted glass ceilings. The swimming pools were lined with Thasian marble, once a rare sight in Italy. Water streamed into the pools through silver spigots.44 Seneca confessed that, as he got older, he preferred to swim in a heated pool. When young and virile, the Stoic philosopher cherished his membership in Rome’s polar bear club. On New Year’s Day, he would plunge into the icy artificial stream of the Euripus.45 Cassius Dio reported that Maecenas was the first to build a swimming pool (kolymbēthra) in Rome whose water was heated.46 Heated pools became popular features of later country villas. Pliny the Younger equipped his coastal villa at Laurentum with a heated pool that he had his architects elevate in order to offer swimmers a view of the Mediterranean. Pliny also celebrated his Tuscan villa in the foothills of the Apennines. The villa had both a good-sized swimming-bath (baptisterium) placed in the shade and a more spacious swimming pool (piscina) in the courtyard supplied with warm water.47 Sidonius Apollinaris (c. 430/431–480s) wrote a letter to his friend Domitius, describing the attractions of his country estate called Avitacum. The bath complex adjacent to the main villa included a hot room with heated pool 42 43 44 45 46 47

Mart. 3.44.9–16 (Epigrams, 1993, 218–19). Sen. Ep. 56.1–2. See, e.g., Casson, 1974, 209–11; and MacGregor, 137–39. Sen. Ep. 86, Ep. 122.8. See, e.g., Henderson, 80–84, 105–07. Sen. Ep. 83.5. See, e.g., L. Richardson, 147; Bruun, 121; and Coarelli, 1995, 237–39. Cass. Dio 55.7.6. Plin. Ep. 2.17.11, 5.6.25–26. See, e.g., McClelland, 30, 70–71.

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set in an apse, an anointing room for rub downs, and a cold room with a pyramidal roof that was the owner’s special pride. Attached to that cold room was a swimming pool, a piscina or baptisterium, for those preferring the Greek designation. The pool was located on the eastern side of the cold room and was filled continually through six spouts in the form of a lion’s head. Water drawn from a stream running down a nearby mountain ridge gushed from those heads. A bather could go directly from the steam room into the chill waves of the pool.48 Private bath establishments in the city of Rome likewise became increasingly lavish. Martial and Statius lauded the baths that Claudius Etruscus built for himself and his guests. Having seen his father exiled by Domitian, the younger Claudius decided to content himself with a comfortable private life epitomized by his baths. According to Martial, no waters will charm one like the warm baths of Etruscus, and no bath complex could compete with its magnificence. The materials alone were dazzling and featured a trio of rare colored marbles (green serpentino, yellow-streaked Numidian, purple-streaked pavonazzetto). The baths were arranged to allow one to proceed from the dry warmth of the sweating room to a plunge into the bright, chilling waters of the Aqua Virgo or Aqua Marcia. By tracing the path of the two aqueducts, historians infer that the baths of Claudius Etruscus once stood on the Quirinal Hill or in the Campus Martius below it.49 The biographies of the later emperors supply gossipy anecdotes about swimming in lavish surroundings. To establish the depravity of Commodus (r. 180–92), his biographer portrayed him pushing his praetorian prefect Iulius Iulianus into a swimming pool in full dress toga. Commodus wanted to humiliate the drenched prefect in front of junior officers. Swimming spurred Elagabalus (r. 218–22) to new heights of hedonism. The prodigal emperor built swimming pools (colymbi) far from the sea but had them supplied with sea water. He then distributed the pools among court sycophants, who used them to swim and farm fish. Elagabalus preferred to swim only in aromatic waters, using saffron or essence of wormwood to boost his pleasure. He had one pool perfumed with essence of rose and strewn with rose petals. Maneuvering through scattered apples and melons, the emperor Carinus worked his way up and down the pool (natavit).50

48 Sid. Apoll. Epist. 2.2.3–9, Carm. 2.18, 2.19. See, e.g., Visser, 27, 31–35. 49 Mart. 6.42; and Stat. Silv. 1.5. See, e.g., L. Richardson, 393; Busch, 36–57; and Newlands, 199–226. 50 Suet. Dom. 8.22. SHA Comm. 11.1–4; Heliogab. 19.6–9, 21.6–7, 23.7, 24.1–2; Alex. Sev. 30.4; Carus, Carinus, and Numerian 17.4. See, e.g., Rohrbacher, 3–4, 54–56, 114–15.

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Herod the Great used the swimming pool at his winter palace near Jericho to eliminate a political rival. Herod lured the young high priest Jonathan Aristobulus III to the palace for a party following the Feast of Sukoth (Tabernacles). He assured that Jonathan have too much to drink. Herod then led his brother-in-law outside to the pool for respite from the noonday heat. As the afternoon passed, Herod encouraged Jonathan to join the others in the pool. When darkness began to fall, he had his henchmen submerge the high priest and hold him there until he drowned.51 3

Swimming and the Natural Environment

From observation the ancients learned the varying qualities of aquatic environments suitable for swimming. Claims for the effects of a particular environment range from the ridiculous to the reasonable. With warranted skepticism, Pliny and Pausanias conveyed a story told by the historian Evanthes. Among the Arcadians, a descendant of Anthus was chosen by lot to swim across a magical marsh. By the time he reached the opposite side, he had become a wolf. If the wolf herded there in the woods with members of its species and never touched a human being (Pliny) or ate human flesh (Pausanias), he could return to the magic marsh, swim in the opposite direction, and recover his human form.52 There are accounts of aquatic environments whose waters had a peculiar aroma or oily consistency. Vitruvius recorded instances of both. At Carthage there was a spring on the surface of which floated an oil that smelled liked cedar-shavings. The locals used the oil to dress their sheep. Vitruvius also described bodies of water such as the Liparis River in Cilicia and a lake in Ethiopia, whose waters were so oily that they naturally lubricated swimmers. A similar body of water in India only produced that effect on cloudless days.53 The ancients found empirical evidence for the law of buoyancy by observing the ease or difficulty of floating in varying aquatic environments. The author of the Problems attributed to Aristotle recognized that humans could swim more easily in the sea than in rivers. He offered two hypotheses to explain the phenomenon. Either the constant propulsion of the swimmer generated support, or support for a swimmer’s body was greater in an aquatic element

51 Joseph. BJ 1.437, AJ 15.50–56, 20.248–49. See, e.g., P. Richardson, 162–65. 52 Plin. HN 8.80–81; and Paus. 8(Arcadia).2.6. See, e.g., Hughes, 96–107. 53 Vitr. De arch. 8.3.8.

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that had more body and therefore resists the swimmer’s weight.54 Vitruvius explained the greater support of sea water by quantifying the amount of the four constituent elements in that environment. He knew that bricks made from clay in places like Callet and Maxilua in Spain as well as Pitane in Asia Minor “swim” when thrown into water.55 The dried clay from those regions had a consistency and weight like light pumice-stone, and it did not absorb humidity. Vitruvius concluded that the combination of airy substance and water resistance upon drying meant that those bricks would float, no matter how heavy. The oddest marine environments in the Mediterranean world assisted the perception of buoyancy. Around 24 CE, Strabo described lakes near Akragas (Agrigento) in Sicily on which humans floated like logs. Even those who cannot swim do not sink in those unusual ponds. By the time that Seneca the Younger wrote his Quaestiones naturales around 60 CE, the ponds no longer existed.56 Strabo portrayed a second marine environment that had water so heavy it was of no use to a diver (kolombou). Once you walked into the water up to your navel, you were lifted to float. He called it Lake Sirbonis and characterized it as large, deep right up to the shoreline, and lying parallel to the coast of the Sinai Peninsula. The lake naturally produced asphalt. Heat on the lake bottom liquefied the asphalt, and it shot up to the surface. As it dispersed, it was solidified by the cold water. If Strabo was discussing the marsh known today as Sabkhat el-Bardawîl, then Pliny’s description of Lake Sirbonis as a swamp of moderate depth (palus modica) was more accurate than Strabo’s of a lake deep to the shoreline. The depth of Lake Sirbonis never exceeded 1.5 m and, in many areas, it was less than 1 m. It is also questionable that an average swamp in the Sinai would have particularly cold water at its surface. Strabo harmonized data relating to Lake Sirbonis and the Dead Sea.57 The Dead Sea in Israel was the most unusual body of water the ancients encountered. Ancient sources generally called the sea Asphalt Lake. In a digression in his history written after 36 BCE, Diodorus Siculus explained why. The Sea produced asphalt (bitumen) in large masses that the Nabateans reached on reed rafts, cut with axes into manageable pieces, loaded onto their rafts, and marketed throughout the Near East, particularly in Egypt. Even if those fragile craft sank, the crew had no worries since swimmers and non-swimmers alike will not sink. In fact, according to Diodorus, all heavy objects of great 54 Ps. Arist. Pr. 933a10–17 (Problems, 2011, 2:92–93). See also Plut. Mor. Quaest. naturales 911c–d; and Meeusen, 368–72. 55 Vitruv. De arch. 2.3.4 (On Architecture, 1931, 92–93). 56 Strabo 6.2.9; and Sen. QNat. 3.25.5. 57 Strabo 16.2.42 (Geography, 1930, 7:292); and Plin. HN 5.68 (Natural History, 1942, 2:272). See, e.g., Dov Por, 34–38; and Bar-Kochva, 355–62.

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enough girth or capable of absorbing air will float on the Dead Sea. Only solid, dense objects like gold or lead sink there.58 Seneca described the Dead Sea as a lake or pond (stagnum) in Syria that holds up those who do not know how to swim (nandi imperiti). Vespasian devised an experiment to test the remarkable buoyancy attributed to the sea. He had the hands of non-swimmers tied behind their backs and had them thrown into the sea. They rose to the surface and floated. Tacitus confirmed in his Histories (c. 109 CE) that the sea was so dead that its waters held up those who were skilled in swimming and those who were not (peritique imperitique nandi).59 4

Swim Strokes

The distinction that ancient authors made between skilled and unskilled indicates that humans needed instruction in the art and the ancients did not succeed in teaching everyone to swim.60 For guidance, the ancients observed animals whose physiology equipped them to swim. The human body uses energy inefficiently to generate the thrust required to overcome the drag of water. Aristotle noticed that the flat feet of tiny crabs made those crustaceans better swimmers. He compared their feet to fins or oars. Today’s swim fins make the human body more efficient in generating thrust by expanding the surface area of the foot in contact with water.61 The swimming animal par excellence for the ancients, the dolphin, used his caudal or tail fin to perfection. Dolphins romped with those swimming. They showed exemplary solidarity when they rescued those struggling in the water or returned their corpses to shore.62 Among all the human persons for whom dolphins displayed affection, children learning to swim stand out. Dolphins seemed to sense that they exemplified the exhilaration of skillful swimming and could ease comprehensible anxieties that children had about being in the water. Plutarch’s version of the 58 Diod. Sic. 2.48.6–9, 19.98–100. See, e.g., P. C. Hammond; Ruby, 251–57; and Beit-Arieh. 59 Sen. QNat. 3.25.5–6 (Natural Questions, 1971, 1:258–60); Joseph. BJ 4.456–57, 476–78; and Tac. Hist. 5.6 (Histories, 1931, 184). See also Paus. 5(Elis).7.5, and J. E. Taylor, 205–43. 60 Pliny identified one group of natural swimmers, the Fisheaters living at the southern edge of the world. Their unique inborn capacity to swim implied that everyone else had to learn the skill. See Plin. HN 6.176, citing King Juba. 61 Arist. Part. an. 684a11–14. 62 Hdt. 1.24; Luc. Dial. marini 5(8) (“Poseidon and Dolphins”); and Plut. Mor. Conv. sept. sap. 162c–63a. Statius (Achil. 1.221–26) awarded dolphins the honor of transporting Achilles. See, e.g., Gray, 11–19; and Csapo, 69–90.

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Arion story has that undercurrent. When initially lifted out of the water on the dolphin’s back, the musician, like a novice swimmer, was anxious and confused. Gradually, Arion becomes at ease on the water as he senses that his means of support is reliable. Metaphorically, Arion habituated himself to swimming.63 A story familiar to both Pliny’s occurred in a sheltered lagoon at Hippo Diarrhytus (Bizerte). A dolphin befriended a young lad who liked to compete with other boys in swimming farther out to sea. The dolphin first encountered the young winner in deep water and gave him a ride into even deeper water. Though initially afraid, after a period of days, the boy grew comfortable riding the dolphin well out from shore. The trip out and back encouraged young swimmers to become increasingly proficient and extend their range.64 Ancient sources supply almost no description of human beings mimicking dolphins when they swim. In a poem on astrology, Manilius saw those born under the sign of Delphinus as fated to be at home in the water. He depicted a dolphin moving efficiently at the surface and underwater, propelled by its “swift wing” (citis pinnis).65 Manilius meant the caudal fin which generates remarkable thrust through its heaving and pitching motion. The tail fin works because it has a wide, flat shape resembling a wing, it utilizes strong muscles, and it does not have bones. The up and down movement of the fin coordinates with the oscillation of the dolphin’s body. The modern butterfly stroke requires the human body to undulate along its length. Swimmers draw up their legs and forcefully pitch them down, breach the surface with their upper body, and take a breath. Lucian’s satiric dialogue on pretentious diction (Lexiphanes) offers indirect confirmation that the ancients rarely if ever practiced that stroke. Lucian depicted a group of friends repairing to a large gymnasium at the end of the workday. After exercising, some chose to “be poured over” (kataionēthentes) a warm pool while the rest chose to “chilly-dip” (psuchrobaphes) and “dolphinoscillate” (delphinisantes) in the ambient pool.66 To underline the absurdity of studied diction, Lucian coined a verb for swimming like a dolphin. Ancient swimmers focused on more basic strokes. The preponderance of the textual evidence is found in Latin authors, often when writing poetry. Their concise expression and cryptic allusion make it challenging to pinpoint the precise stroke. That problem is further complicated by the question of a poet’s knowledge of swimming. The astrologer Manilius supplied the fullest listing when he discussed those fated to be at home in the sea. He identified four 63 64 65 66

Plut. Mor. Conv. sept. sap. 161d–e. Plin. HN 9.26; and Plin. Ep. 9.33.4–6. Manilius 5.419–21 (Astronomica, 1977, 334–35). See, e.g., Nagal, 76–80. Luc. Lexiphanes 5 (Lexiphanes, 1936, 300–01). See, e.g., Remijsen, 260.

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ways to swim and used nunc as anaphora to tip off the reader that he was shifting from one to the next. He listed the breaststroke (arms operate like oars), front crawl (alternate arm action that resounds on water), and treading water. Manilius added another technique that allowed swimmers to be at ease. They can lie motionless on their back or side and not prove an excessive burden to the water. While floating, the swimmer moves under the natural impetus of a current or wave, as a sailboat moves under the natural force of the wind. He can stow his oars. A back float is viable and relaxing, though floating on one’s side seems awkward. Perhaps Manilius wanted the one floating to be able to breathe at all times, something not possible when floating on the stomach.67 Centuries before Manilius, Plato exhibited confidence that the Greeks would understand his comparisons to floating and swimming on the back. In the Republic, Plato chided astronomers who, when they look to the heavens, do not focus on the reality beyond appearances. Even while floating on his back, an astronomer is distracted downward to matter. In the Phaedrus, Socrates criticized Lysias for failing to practice the art of rhetoric. Lysias began his speech on love with material more appropriate for a dramatic conclusion. He tried to swim on his back against the current. Plato twice used the analogy of swimming backstroke to suggest doing things the wrong way, either by focusing on sensory data over ultimate reality or by beginning a speech where you should end it.68 The ancients saw swimming on one’s stomach as the proper way to initiate a learner in the skill. When an author described swimming on the stomach and moving the arms in unison, he meant breaststroke. Manilius claimed that, like a hidden bireme, the swimmer will draw his arms apart beneath the water. A “bireme” is an unhelpful image if it refers to a galley propelled by two banks of oars on each side of its hull. More likely Manilius used the term in its strict Latin sense to depict a small rowboat with two oars. A single rower operates the pair of oars, and he synchronizes the movement of his arms to propel the boat. And the text may be corrupt. Wolfgang Hüber emended hidden bireme ( furtiva biremis) to hidden oar ( furtivus remus). If the emendation remus (“oar”) is correct, then the equivalent hands of the oars would be the blades hidden below the surface of the water. It still seems confusing to utilize the hands as a synecdoche for the arms and describe them drawn apart. The oar 67 Manilius 5.428–30 (Astronomica, 1977, 334): “aut immota ferens in tergus membra latusque / non onerabit aquas summisque accumbet in undis / pendebitque super, totus sine remige velum.” 68 Pl. Resp. 529a–c, Phdr. 264a. Cf. also Ar. fr. 593: “… if I don’t throw you in backstroke” (Fragments, 2008, 406–07).

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blades throughout a rowing stroke are separated by the boat plus the length of their looms.69 Statius and Silius Italicus used similar wording and imagery to describe breaststroke. Statius imagined Eros watching Leander swim the Hellespont. The mischievous son of Aphrodite admired the way in which Leander’s arms competed with oars. To stoke Leander’s ardor, Eros lightened the rhythmic exertion of his swimming. Statius compared the arms of the swimmer to the oars of a boat.70 Silius Italicus described an impromptu swimming competition among the Nereids. Those lithe sea goddesses circled their white arms around until they came together again (convertunt). The use of the root verb for rotating and in a compound form that indicates a continuance until the arms are back together fits a breaststroke.71 By contrast, if the arms move alternately while swimming on the stomach, that would correspond either to a dog paddle or a front crawl (freestyle). For the dog paddle, a swimmer alternately circles each hand. The circular motion of the arms lifts the upper body slightly in the water and propels it forward. Dog paddlers keep their heads out of the water, which allows them to breathe and see where they are going. The stroke is one of the easiest, but it is useful only for short distances. Front crawl requires more sophisticated arm movements and rotary breathing. The swimmer lies prone on his stomach and alternately stretches each hand and arm into the water in front of his shoulder. The swimmer pulls his hand under his chest and then sweeps it out toward the hip. As one arm completes the stroke, the other has moved forward out of the water to begin the process on the opposite side. In coordination with the rotation of the arms and the body, the swimmer takes a breath by turning his head to the side. For longer distances and greater speed, front crawl is a far more efficient stroke than dog paddle. There are poetic texts in which the Roman author describes a stroke where the swimmer, lying on his stomach, uses each arm alternately. The question then becomes which stroke is the poet representing, the simpler dog paddle or the more challenging front crawl. On multiple occasions, Ovid presented swimming on the stomach. In the Ibis, Ovid described a wave being struck by the upper arms (lacerti), which alternated their blows. He then alluded to 69 Manilius 5.424–25 (Astronomica, 1977, 334): “nunc aequore mersas / diducet palmas furtiva biremis in ipso.” Hübner, 2010, 112–15, 146, 232, 255–57. 70 Stat. Silv. 1.2.87–89 (Silvae, 2015, 24): “vidi et Abydeni iuvenis certantia remis / bracchia laudavique manus et saepe natanti / praeluxi: minor ille calor, quo saeva tepebant aequora.” See, e.g., Roberts, 1989, 321–28. 71 Sil. Pun. 3.412–14 (Punica, 1934, 1:144): “fluit omnis ab antris / Nereidum chorus et sueto certamine nandi / candida perspicuo convertunt brachia ponto.”

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Leander swimming the Hellespont to reach Hero. Front crawl is a better option than dog paddle for the lengthy distance and turbulent conditions of Leander’s swim. However, the language that Ovid chose, alternating arms striking the waves, makes either of the strokes a possibility.72 In the Metamorphoses, Ovid portrayed Hermaphroditus diving into a pool and swimming by bringing his arms forward in alternating fashion. Once again, alternating arms while swimming on the stomach occurs in dog paddle and front crawl. The restricted space implied by a pool might favor dog paddling.73 Propertius reacted with alarm when his mistress Cynthia planned to travel to Baiae. Were she to visit the notorious resort, Propertius feared that she would have the opportunity to hear the seductive whisperings of a rival on some isolated beach. He hoped that she would instead find her diversion on the Lucrine Lake with a small boat (cumba) and its tiny oars or go for a swim in the light surf of Teuthras. Teuthras was a legendary king remotely associated through colonization with the coastal town of Cumae. To depict the surf along that coast as unthreatening, Propertius claimed that it yielded easily to each hand in turn. The poetry depicts a swimming stroke where each hand/ arm moves in sequence with the other. That applies to dog paddling and front crawl.74 A poet using the name Lygdamus, in an elegy conserved among those of Tibullus, lamented his taking sick as his friends were about to go swimming in a spring-fed Tuscan stream. To characterize the stream’s current as weak, Lygdamus, like Propertius, chose the adjective facilis. Swimmers could drive away the yielding wave with an unhurried hand. He nowhere makes explicit that each hand alternates, and the slow, graceful movement of the hand pushing back the water could be any stroke on the stomach.75 In the Thebaid, Statius described the cloak that Admetus won for finishing second in the chariot race during the funeral games. It was embroidered with a scene of Leander swimming the Hellespont. Leander appeared to move one hand toward his side and be about to switch to the other arm. The effort to keep his head above water would result in an awkward body position for front crawl, but not for dog paddling. Nonetheless, the description of Statius does 72 Ov. Ib. 589–90 (Ibis, 1929, 284): “Siqua per alternos pulsabitur unda lacertos, / Omnis Abydena sit tibi peior aqua.” 73 Ov. Met. 4.352–54 (Metamorphoses, 1916, 1:202): “ille cavis velox adplauso corpore palmis / desilit in latices alternaque bracchia ducens / in liquidis translucet aquis …” The image that Ovid (Met. 5.595–96) presented of Arethusa is one of exuberant, joyful splashing, not swimming. See, e.g., W. S. Anderson, 560. 74 Prop. 1.11.9–12 (Elegies, 1990, 68): “atque utinam mage te remis confisa minutis / parvula Lucrina cumba moretur aqua, / aut teneat clausam tenui Teuthrantis in unda / alternae facilis cedere lympha manu …” 75 Tib. 3.5.29–30 (Lygdamus) (Tibullus, 1913, 302): “At vobis Tuscae celebrantur numina lymphae / et facilis lenta pellitur unda manu.” See, e.g., Lygdamus, 70, 413–58.

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Leander swimming to Hero

seem to imply one swimming front crawl because the pull of one arm reaches his side as his other arm extends forward. Depictions of Leander swimming from the House of the Vettii in Pompeii and on coins from Abydus show him with one arm extended fully forward and the other drawn back at his side. The use of a future participle (mutaturus) seems maladroit: the two arms in front crawl alternate but do not pause.76

76 Stat. Theb. 6.542–45 (Thebaid, 2004, 1:366): “Phrixei natat hic contemptor ephebus / aequoris et picta tralucet caerulus unda; / in latus ire manus mutaturusque videtur / bracchia, nec siccum speres in stamine crinem.” See, e.g., Vessey, 211–18.

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Manilius described a stroke on the stomach that allowed a swimmer to fly on the waves. The swimmer raises one arm after the other for slow pulling. That alternate action of the arms, in turn, means that the water will make noise each time it is struck.77 Although it is true that the arms in a fluid front crawl should not make noisy splashing, it is almost impossible to make a noise while dog paddling, since the arms remain under the water. And Manilius began his description with “nunc” to indicate that this stroke differed from the breaststroke, treading water, and the back float that followed. In a poem about a voyage from Rome to Gaul in 417, Rutilius Claudius Namatianus offered a comparison involving swimming. Scholars have debated the precise stroke he was describing. Rutilius likened the calm waters of the inner harbor of Centumcellae (Civitavecchia) to the wave imprisoned within Cumae’s baths that “holds up the easygoing arms in an alternating bending” (sustinet alterno bracchia lenta sinu). There are difficulties in establishing the text of Rutilius and understanding its meaning. First, the fact that the waters of the enclosed pools in the baths of Baiae (near Cumae) buoy up a swimmer suggest that they were saltwater pools. Second, the easygoing arms (bracchia lenta) of swimmers at Baiae seem an allusion to Ovid’s Leander swimming the Hellespont, another saltwater environment. Finally, the alternate bending of the arms indicates one of two strokes, either a dog paddle or a front crawl. H. A. Sanders has argued for a variant reading of sono instead of sinu, based on a lost manuscript from Bobbio. Sinu was a correction supplied in the margin of a copy made at Vienna that later editors adopted. And Sanders used the reading sono to contend that the stroke to which Rutilius referred is front crawl, where each arm alternately comes out of the water and on re-entering makes a sound.78 Overall, the textual evidence includes passages from Manilius and Plato that indicate the ancients floated and even swam on the back. There are multiple poetic texts from Latin authors that indicate that the Romans swam on their stomachs. Those that compare the arm motion to oars pulling together refer to breaststroke. The majority of those describing alternation of the arms are ambiguous. They do not clarify whether the stroke is dog paddle or front crawl. Texts from Statius and Manilius seem good evidence that the Romans advanced beyond dog paddling and did know a form of front crawl. Images of Leander support that inference.79 77 Manilius 5.423–24 (Astronomica, 1977, 334): “nunc alterna ferens in lentos bracchia tractus / … et plausa resonabit aqua.” 78 Rut. Namat. 1.243–48 (my translation). Wight Duff and Duff, De reditu suo, 1934, 785, translate: “… like the water imprisoned in Cumae’s baths which buoys up the unhurried arms plied by the swimmer in alternate sweep.” Sanders, 567–68. See also H. A. Harris, 120. 79 See, e.g., Sanders, 567–68; H. A. Harris, 120–24; and Maniscalco, 151–52.

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Manilius also spoke of a way to swim upright in a portion of his text whose precise wording has challenged editors. Manilius began by affirming that the swimmer will come into the water standing (rectus). Then, the text may read that the person will swim by walking or, in an emended version, will mark a stride, an expression comparable to our English tread. Thirdly, the swimmer “lied about the shallows.”80 Although it looks like he is touching the bottom because he is upright, he only pretends to do so. The astrologer summarized the stroke by referring to his initial claim that those born under Delphinus are at home on land or sea. Here, by treading, the swimmer turns water into a field (campus). The entire description rings true for anyone who has seen a water polo match. 5

Learning to Swim

5.1 Civilized versus Barbarian Ancient Greeks and Romans professed a universal ideal in terms of those who should know how to swim. Swimming was as fundamental to civilization as literacy. The archetypal barbarians were non-swimmers. The Greeks ridiculed their opponents for drowning at Salamis. Herodotus contrasted the few Greeks who died in the waters of the Saronic Gulf to the many Persians, Medes, and their vaunted allies who did. The explanation was simple: the Greeks learned to swim. Herodotus buttressed that duality in his description of the battle for Potidaea. In the winter of 480–79 BCE, Persians under Artabazus isolated Potidaea for three months. Artabazus chose a siege because he had no fleet and the city could only be attacked from the sea. The Persian commander realized one day that an extraordinarily low tide offered his army a chance to cross over marshy ground and attack by land. His forces were not even halfway to Potidaea when the tide turned. Large numbers of Persian soldiers died because they did not know how to swim. Even if they did, the Potidaeans launched boats and picked off swimmers in the water. The Greeks interpreted the Persian debacle as just punishment for having profaned a temple of Poseidon on the outskirts of the city.81 Late in the fifth century BCE, the singer-songwriter Timotheus brought that paradigm onto the stage in Athens, performing an original composition entitled Persians. As well as singing his dithyramb on the naval victory at 80 Manilius 5.426–27 (Astronomica, 1977, 334–35): “nunc in aquas rectus veniet passuque natabit / et vada mentitus reddet super aequora campum.” See Hübner, 2010, 1:256, for the emendation passumque notabit. 81 Hdt. 8.89, 129.

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Salamis, Timotheus acted out its drama. He juxtaposed a Phrygian soldier condemned for his barbarism to a drawn-out death by drowning and the confident Athenians saved through a civilized way of life that had taught them how to swim. The desperate barbarian declaimed a total of 46 lines during his drowning scene, flailing with his arms, slipping down below the surface, and then bobbing back up to utter yet more lines in a grisly, derisive display.82 Greeks reveled in a civilizing ability to swim that set them apart. During the Peloponnesian War, Athens and Sparta enlisted foreign allies. In 413 BCE the role of barbarians fell to Thracian mercenaries under Athenian command. They launched a surprise raid by sea on Boeotian Mycalessus. The Thracians stole valuables, slaughtered livestock, and butchered innocent boys at school. But barbarism ultimately proved their undoing: they paid a severe price because they could not swim. Coming to the aid of Mycalessus, the Thebans chased the raiders to their anchorage. When the boat crews spied the Thebans arriving, they moved their boats out of range of Theban archers. The great majority of Thracian barbarians could not swim, and the boats were now in deep water. One after another fell to Theban vengeance.83 Through his genial wit, Lucian of Samosata (c. 115/125–180s/190s CE) undermined the image of the barbarian who cannot swim. In the dialogue Toxaris, he presented a Greek and a Scythian who competed in telling stories about friendship. Lucian used the dialogue to demolish simplistic stereotypes of the non-Greek and non-Roman. First, he described a painted scene in an imaginary temple dedicated to the friends Orestes and Pylades. The scene portrayed the moment when Orestes set sail from Scythia with Iphigenia and a cult image of Artemis. Desperate to stop the ship, Scythians clung to the quarter rudders but could not halt the progress of the vessel. So, they let go and swam back to shore. Scythians, the ur-barbarians, can swim. Lucian also had the Scythian Toxaris depict the friendship between Dandamis and Amizoces, two Scythians ambushed in an assault by thousands of Sauromatae. The outnumbered Scythians tried to escape by swimming across the Don River. Amizoces made it across. From the opposite bank, he heard the pleas of Dandamis, whom the Sauromatae had captured. Amizoces did not hesitate. He swam the river again and, before the Sauromatae could kill Dandamis, he managed to utter the word for ransom (zirin). Amizoces swam naked and arrived without coins. He therefore allowed the Sauromatae to take as a ransom his eyes. The two Scythians

82 E. Hall, 255–56, 269–85. 83 Thuc. 7.30.1–2.

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then swam across the Don. Dandamis guided his devoted friend. So, Scythians knew how to swim and did so for the noblest of reasons.84 As later Greek historians prove, the stereotype of non-swimming barbarians survived Lucian’s critique. In an account of the battle near Orchomenus between Sulla’s Roman forces and Archelaus’s army of the Pontic kingdom, Appian (90–160 CE) described a smashing Roman victory. Archelaus initiated hostilities, but Sulla lured the enemy’s vanguard of chariots into a prepared trap of massed stakes. The charioteers wheeled around, the lines of Archelaus broke, and the Pontic army retreated pell-mell to their camp. Sulla then set his troops to digging a ditch to hem them in. Archelaus tried to fight his way out, but the Romans blocked his advance and breached the camp’s wall. The rout was on.85 Some of Archelaus’s soldiers were driven to the lake behind the camp. There, in two ways, their barbarism left them vulnerable. They could not swim, and they spoke with hideous tongue. Since the Roman pursuers did not understand the entreaties for mercy and the Pontic soldiers could not venture into the lake, the Romans slaughtered them. Appian wove into his narrative the essence of the proverb, neither letters nor swimming. The Romans tended to demystify water and approach swimming more pragmatically. As a result, their descriptions of barbarians swimming have a less ideological edge. When the German Cimbri attempted to cross the Atesis (Adige) River, they revealed to the Roman historian Florus what idiotic barbarians they were. They did not try to cross the Adige on a bridge or in boats. Rather, they made a feeble attempt to divert the river’s current with their hands and shields and swim across the lessened volume of water. The stratagem failed, so the Cimbri hurled tree trunks into the river to dam the flow and cross over.86 The Romans celebrated swimming as a way to assure their military superiority when they exercised the skill, and they respected every enemy who had mastered the skill. Lucan claimed that the Parthians would not risk swimming across a river in flood stage. To press their tactical advantage, the poet urged Roman legionaries to embrace the challenge of any river’s swirling rapids.87 The rebellious Celtic Caledonians of the Scottish Highlands liked to run or swim naked in their marshy homeland as a way to flaunt their colorful tattoos. The Celtic chieftain, Boudicca, told her soldiers that, when fighting the 84 Luc. Toxaris seu Amicitia 6, 39–40 (Toxaris or Friendship, 1936, 110–13, 166–69). See, e.g., Bozia, 67–72. 85 App. Mith. 12.50 (Roman History, Mithridatic War, 2019, 3:240–43). See, e.g., Keaveney, 81–83; and Telford, 130–35. 86 Flor. 3.3 (1.38.12–18). See, e.g., Evans, 47–51. Plutarch (Vit. Mar. 23.2–6) depicted the Cimbri sliding down the Alpine slopes naked on their sleds. 87 Lucan 8.363–79. See, e.g., Stark, 119–21.

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Romans, they could exploit the rivers running through their homeland. The delicate Romans only crossed rivers in boats whereas the Britons swam across. The Germans fighting Roman forces likewise exploited the thick woods and deep marshes where they lived.88 5.2 Gender The female chieftain Boudicca was ready to swim over any river. Appian recounted an instance during the Third Punic War where Carthaginian mothers swam. In 149 BCE, the Romans forced the Carthaginians to cede as hostages three hundred children from the leading noble families. As the captive children prepared to board Roman vessels for the voyage to Sicily, the mothers wrapped their arms around the officers and sailors in a futile attempt to prevent the ships from leaving. Once the ships were underway, some of the mothers swam out to them, weeping as they gazed at their children on board. The image suggests that the women could not only swim but could also tread water.89 Various authors indicated that Roman women learned the skill. In 39 BCE, Roman residents of the area around Misenum (Miseno) erupted in celebration when the peace accords between the Triumvirs and Sextus Pompeius were announced. While celebrating along the shore, some revelers in small boats offshore leapt into the sea as their compatriots on land rushed to greet them. When they met in the water, they embraced while swimming (nēchomenoi), suggesting that they were treading water. They also threw their arms around each other’s necks as they dived underwater (kolumbōntes). The account does not restrict the swimming celebration to males alone, to the young alone, or to boat owners alone.90 Historians recounted episodes in which Roman women of differing social class proved their ability to swim. Nero’s mother Agrippina would not have survived her son’s attempt to kill her if she had not learned the skill. Nero’s henchmen sabotaged the pleasure craft which Agrippina had boarded for a cruise near Baiae. According to Tacitus, Agrippina came out alive for two reasons. She kept silent as soon as she finished in the water, and she swam to some small fishing boats attracted by the screaming of the other victims. In doing so, she distinguished herself from her female confidante, Aceronia Polla, who also survived in the Gulf of Baiae for a time by swimming, treading, and 88 Hdn. 3.14.6–7, 7.2.5–6; and Cass. Dio 62 (Epitome).5.6. For Boudicca, see, e.g., Hoffmann, 94–96. 89 App. Pun. 8.77 (Roman History, African Book, 2019, 2:132–35). 90 Cass. Dio 48.37.1–4 (Dio’s Roman History, 1917, 5:296–99).

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holding on to floating wreckage. But Aceronia Polla made the fateful decision to identify herself as Agrippina in the hope of quicker rescue. Instead, Nero’s assassins took her at her word and clubbed her to death with poles, oars, and any other suitable gear. The plan called for sinking the ship sufficiently distant from shore for the passengers to drown but the sailors to swim to safety, implying that some sailors swam better than their peers.91 The bungled assassination became sketch material for Rome’s stand-up comedians. A song-and-dance performer named Datus composed a ditty in which Nero saluted his parents. “Farewell to thee, father,” as Datus imitated Claudius getting drunk; “farewell to thee, mother,” as the showman did his best swimming pantomime.92 In addition to upper-crust women, Suetonius recorded a rumor that libido led the emperor Domitian to swim with pedestrian whores. If true and if the swimming occurred in a full-sized pool and not a swimming bath, then the skill reached liminal women in Rome.93 Ancient literature and mythology supplement the record. The Nereids were divine daughters of the sea god Nereus and the marine counterpart to the nymphs who resided in springs and woods on land. Nereids danced and swam in the ocean, and, as artwork showed, they also rode on dolphins. Travelers on dangerous seas showed special reverence for those powerful guardians because they were believed to assist persons during an important life transition. The myth of Ino exemplifies the inspiration that Nereids supplied for diving and swimming. Ino started out as a human person. In one version, she embroiled her family and civic community in turmoil. To expiate her fault, she leapt from a cliff, hoping to drown in the sea. She was instead reborn as the Nereid Leukothea and transformed from a villain to a protectress. Sailors invoked her assistance as they left port or when they encountered storms at sea. In the Odyssey, she took pity on a shipwrecked Odysseus. In order to swim to safety, the male hero accepted the assistance of a female Nereid.94 While Ino voluntarily leapt into the sea, the young girl of Methymna with whom Enalus had fallen in love was cast in as a human sacrifice. Prior to colonizing Lesbos, the settlers were told by an oracle to offer a maiden to Amphitrite as they crossed to the island. In the version of the legend preserved in Anticleides of Athens (c. 300 BCE), Enalus swam to rescue his beloved, and they were both 91 Tac. Ann. 14.5; Suet. Ner. 34.2–3; Cass. Dio 62 (Epitome).13.1–4. In Dio, the ship did split apart, and Agrippina got safely to shore, though he does not specify how she did so. See, e.g., Barrett, 181–90, 244–46. 92 Suet. Ner. 39.2 (Lives, 1914, 2:152–55). 93 Suet. Dom. 8.22 (Lives, 1914, 2:366): “… nataretque inter vulgatissimas meretrices.” 94 Holtsmark; Larson, 1995, 18–21, 123–25; Barringer, 1–2, 17–48, 55–56; and Larson, 2001, 3–8.

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swallowed by a large wave. The girl still resided with the Nereids while he cared for the horses of Poseidon.95 Greek women do swim in history, mythology, and literature. The diving daughter of Skylliēs, Hydnē, had to be a good swimmer in order to become an accomplished diver. The Megarika of Dieuchidas of Megara (4th cent. BCE) recounted the shipwreck of Phorbas and his sister Parthenia. Both were able to swim to safety at Ialysus and come ashore at the district known as Schedia (Raft) on the northern coast of Rhodes.96 In a version of the legend of the Triton, Pausanias described the women of Tanagra descending to the sea to purify themselves before they participated in the rites of Dionysus. Pausanias said that the Triton attacked those women while they were swimming (nēchomenais), and the women then prayed to Dionysus who came to their aid.97 Pausanias also chronicled that Leucippus, son of Oenomaus, the prince of Pisa, had fallen so deeply in love with the chaste nymph Daphne that he disguised himself as a maiden and joined the nymph’s hunting party. When the young women, under the influence of a jealous Apollo, had a sudden urge to go for a swim (nēchesthai) in the Ladon River, Leucippus literally found himself exposed. Despite resisting, he was stripped by the maidens. His punishment for the deception was severe: the band pierced him with spears and daggers.98 Legend and history merged in the multiple Roman sources that drew a parallel between the heroic swim of Horatius Cocles after defending a crucial bridge in Rome and the heroic swim of Cloelia and her fellow female hostages in order to escape detention. Male and female hero were honored in the monuments of narrative literature and public statues, and both became exemplars for imitation, including for their ability to swim. As Matthew Roller maintained, the fabulous features of the stories did not undermine their ideological message.99 The hostages were handed over to the Etruscan king of Clusium, Lars Porsenna. Cloelia took the lead, eluded her Etruscan guards, and led her fellow maidens on a dangerous swim across the Tiber. They avoided a rain of missiles hurled their way. At first, Lars Porsenna was enraged that the Roman hostages had violated the treaty by escaping, and he demanded their return. Porsenna ultimately came to express admiration for the swimming feat of such a courageous young woman. He even rated her achievement greater than those of many men. Porsenna promised that, if Cloelia were returned, he would send 95 Ath. 466c–d; Plut. Mor. Conv. sept. sap. 163a–d; and Plut. Mor. De soll. an. 984e, citing Myrtilus of Lesbos. See, e.g., Jackson; and Beaulieu, 27–28, 135–37, 161–66. 96 Ath. 6.262e–f. See, e.g., Torr, 79, 142–44. 97 Paus. 9(Boeotia).21.4 (Description of Greece, 1935, 4:258). 98 Paus. 8(Arcadia).20.1–4 (Description of Greece, 1935, 4:438). See, e.g., Knox, 187–90. 99 Roller, 10.

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Cloelia and her fellow hostages swimming the Tiber

her back home. Cloelia granted the king’s point about dishonoring the treaty and voluntarily went back. And the king made good on his promise, sending the heroic Roman maiden home with a well caparisoned horse.100 Cloelia’s age supplies evidence for the moment at which women were taught to swim. Silius Italicus claimed that Cloelia, though marriageable, was not yet twelve years old. Cloelia used her “childish arms” to propel herself across the astonished river.101 Plutarch somewhat diminished the heroics of the swim by claiming that it took place where a pronounced bend in the Tiber created a natural bay. The inlet was without chop, but the maidens did have to confront deep water and a hazardous eddy.102 Those characteristics may inform us on the ways that Romans chose swimming holes along the bank of a river. In a work on the bravery of women, Plutarch added a few more details. Cloelia first stripped off her clothes, so all ancients swam naked. She then tied the clothes to her head. That may have been a common way in antiquity to shuttle flexible items because it left both arms free when swimming. In the story that Odysseus told to the swineherd Eumaeus, he described escaping his captors by wrapping his tattered cloak around his head, sliding down the gangway into the water, and swimming to shore. The Roman maidens succeeded in the crossing by adopting a tight bunch formation. Such an arrangement makes it easier to keep tabs on the progress of each swimmer and not lose someone along the way.103

100 Livy 2.13.6–11; and Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.33.1–4, 5.34.3–4. See, e.g., Walker, 263–70, http:// chs.harvard.edu/publications.sec/online_print_books.ssp. 101 Sil. Pun. 10.488–502 (Punica, 1934, 2:86–87): “frangens undam puerilibus ulnis.” 102 Plut. Vit. Publicola 18–19. 103 Hom. Od. 14.334–54; and Plut. Mor. De mul. vir. 250c–d.

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Ancient authors proposed equivalence between the heroic swimming of Horatius Cocles and Cloelia.104 Swimming had broad cultural currency as a proof of civic virtue. In the Aeneid, Virgil claimed that an angry Lars Porsenna appeared on the shield of Aeneas. The king denounced the Romans after Cocles had ordered the bridge torn down and Cloelia had broken her bonds to swim across the river.105 Valerius Maximus treated the episodes together under the rubric of bravery ( fortitudo). He stressed that the courageous deed of Cloelia was exactly like that of Cocles. She confronted the same enemy in the same moment and at the same Tiber River.106 Juvenal juxtaposed the traitorous plans of the unnamed sons of the consul to the impressive acts of Cocles and the girl who swam the Tiber to defend Rome’s endangered liberty.107 Florus acknowledged describing both of their deeds so that neither gender be without praise.108 The pair even supplied Cicero an opportunity for sarcasm in a Philippic against Mark Antony. Like the Luperci during their ritual run, Antony had oiled his body and run naked into the Forum, where he ascended the rostra and tried to crown Caesar. Caesar twice rebuffed Antony’s effort to the cheers of his fellow citizens. Cicero used the episode to denounce Antony’s lack of decorum. Had a Roman consul behaved in that disgraceful way? Cicero then speculated that Antony might be imitating the heroism of Cocles and Cloelia, but he doubted that possibility. According to Cicero, Cloelia swam fully clothed and Cocles swam in full armor. Pungently, Cicero proposed that the Senate and Roman People award Antony a statue to complement the one awarded Horatius Cocles. The visual antithesis was sure to command attention: whereas Cocles appears fully armed and ready to swim the Tiber River, Antony will appear buck naked and racing to contaminate the city’s political heart.109 104 Roller, 10–56. 105 Verg. Aen. 8.646–51. 106 Val. Max. 3.2.1–2 (Memorable Doings and Sayings, 2000, 1:236–39). 107 Juv. 3.8.261–65. 108 Flor. 1.10 (1.4.3–8). 109 Cass. Dio 45.30–31 (Dio’s Roman History, 1916, 4:462–67).

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The Art of Swimming in Practice And he (Critolaus) began to think about the best way of getting home, acting just like a man who cannot swim but is about to throw himself into the sea, and never hesitates in making the plunge, but having made it begins to think how he can swim to shore. Polybius 38.16.121

∵ The ancients saw swimming’s primary value in preparing one to be safe in any aquatic environment. In the Gorgias, Socrates observed that swimming can save our lives if we master the art. Plato utilized swimming in the Republic as a metaphor for progress in developing sound logic. Because Socrates anticipated that some would object to his line of reasoning, he compared the challenge he faced to that of a person who falls into deep water and must swim to survive. That was a true of a confined swimming pool (kolymbēthera) as well as the most expansive ocean.2 For Polybius, the archetypal fool was a person who throws himself into the sea without knowing how to swim. Only in the water does an idiotic non-swimmer begin to ponder the conundrum of getting to shore. Polybius was highlighting the suicidal policies of a commander named Critolaus, who convinced the Achaean League to engage in a hopeless struggle against the alliance of Sparta and Rome. After a crushing defeat at the battle of Scarpheia (146 BCE), Critolaus may have tried to escape by swimming the muddy sea near Mount Oete (Oeta). If so, he drowned without leaving a trace.3 The ancients made their strongest case for swimming in vivid accounts of shipwreck. In a world where it was cheaper to move people and goods by sea, swimming gave sailors and travelers a better chance to survive. The ancients used the dramatic narrative of shipwreck to make the point in poetry and literature.4 Authors stitched together familiar elements to enhance the drama 1 The Histories, 2012, 6:479. 2 Pl. Grg. 511b–c (Gorgias, 1925, 480–81), Resp. 441c, 453d (Republic, 2013, 1:424–27, 460–63). 3 Polyb. 38.16.11–12; and Paus. 7(Achaia).15.4. See, e.g., Baronowski, 120–24. 4 Talbert and Hayes, 175–81.

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of their narrative: risking a voyage outside the parameters of the safe sailing season, encountering the chaotic winds and darkness of a sudden storm at sea, experiencing the horrendous waves that piteously toss the ship about, navigating the universal panic on board, and confronting the gradual, inexorable breakup of the vessel. Dumped into the water, passengers and crew could cling to the wreckage to survive, swim to shore, or swim to a rescue vessel. Ancient authors used the shipwreck scene for a variety of purposes. The purpose could be moral as in the story of Pyrrho, the only true sage who remained calm in a storm at sea.5 The purpose could be theological when deities unleashed the storm that wrecked the vessel or rescued innocent victims from the water. The purpose could likewise be educational if mastery of the art of swimming saved people. In every instance, the author calculated that the drama of a shipwreck would engage the audience. In one of his fables, Phaedrus included an account of shipwreck to teach a moral. It involved Simonides of Ceos, the first poet subsidized by patrons. Simonides was traveling home after a remunerative trip when the aging vessel sailed right into a storm. As it took on water, the other passengers prepared to abandon ship. They strapped on belts stuffed with coins and gathered other valuable possessions. One traveler noted that Simonides was not following suit and inquired whether he was taking any of his earnings. Standing naked before them, the upright Simonides responded that he already had everything that was his. The outcome of the wreck confirmed the wisdom of his stance. His fellow passengers were weighed down by their coins as they tried to swim. Most of them drowned, and the few who reached shore fared no better. They were quickly relieved of their possessions by robbers waiting on the beach. Simonides, by contrast, swam naked to shore and made his way to Clazomenae. As soon as he spoke, a connoisseur of poetry recognized his voice. He took the shipwrecked bard into his home and gave him clothing, money, and slaves.6 Two influential accounts of shipwreck reflect belief in divine salvation among Christians and Jews living under Rome’s rule. Around 60 CE, the Christian apostle Paul embarked on an Alexandrian grain freighter for the last leg of a journey to Rome. The ship left Crete after the feast of Yom Kippur and outside the canonical season for sailing. The captain set course for Puteoli. The ship soon encountered a violent storm that drove them off course, forced them to jettison cargo and equipment, and threatened to wreck them on the Maltese archipelago. The soldiers on board wanted to kill the prisoners lest any 5 Diog. Laert. 9.11.68–69. Cf. Vitr. De arch. 6.pr.1–2 (shipwreck of Aristippus); and Kagis McEwen, 135–39. 6 C. Iulius Phaedrus Fabulae Aesopicae 4.23.

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of them try to swim to freedom. But the centurion Iulius preferred to prevent the massacre and save Paul. He ordered those who could swim to abandon ship first and then had the rest hold on to wreckage to keep themselves afloat.7 Four years later, in 64 CE, a large grain freighter carrying the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus to Puteoli foundered in the Ionian Sea. The sinking put all 600 persons on board in grave danger. Josephus said that they had to swim all night until, thanks to divine providence, they spotted a ship at daybreak. Light brought hope of salvation. Josephus and approximately eighty others swam faster, reached the ship, and were taken on board.8 When crafting a fictional account of men overboard, the Roman novelist Petronius wove together superstition, humor, and sex. As the storm broke, the credulous passengers turned for help to the ship’s protective deity. Before going overboard, the narrator Encolpius welcomed under his tunic the attractive young Giton, who had stripped naked. Giton then wrapped a belt around both and tied it tightly. Whatever happened, they would share a common fate. But the ideal way to swim to safety is not to secure yourself to a handsome partner. Petronius wanted Roman readers to enjoy his parody against the backdrop of heroic tales in ancient epic and romantic tales in ancient novels.9 In the Odyssey Homer offered an influential account of shipwreck and gave it a theological purpose. Odysseus set out on a vessel of his own building. The storm that broke upon him was divinely willed. It stemmed from the anger of Poseidon. As Odysseus prepared to abandon his ship, he received critical help from the marine deity Leukothea. Leukothea disguised herself as a gannet and landed on the deck. She gave Odysseus her veil and instructions on how to use it and return it to her. Odysseus was fated to escape. As the monster wave unleashed by Poseidon smashed his craft, Odysseus briefly used a piece of the wreckage for support. He then did as instructed, stripped naked, and tied the veil qua life preserver beneath his breast. Releasing the plank, Odysseus trusted the counsel of Leukothea and swam for his life. He eventually reached the island of Phaeacia (Scheria).10 What makes the narrative interesting from a swimming perspective is that it mixes the incredible with the plausible. The incredible elements of the swim to dry land underline the theological purpose of divine forces at work. For example, Odysseus spent two days and two nights swimming in the water and would need a lot of divine aid to avoid hypothermia. Other parts of the 7 8 9 10

Acts 27:41–44. See, e.g., Janni, 334–43; and MacDonald, 92–107. Joseph. Vit. 3.13. Petr. 114–15, discussed by Janni, 387–88, 396. Hom. Od. 5.333–464, 7.275–86. See, e.g., Kardulias, 23–35.

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narrative suggest an author familiar with facets of swimming in open water. For one swimming beyond the surf break, the crashing sound is intimidating. Odysseus rode up on cresting waves to get a view of the situation that faced him. He determined that the surf could drive a swimmer onto the rocks or reefs near shore. Neither supplied a safe exit point. The surf was threatening to a swimmer whether it pushed him toward the shoreline or carried him fast-flowing back out to sea. A powerful rip current can with frightening speed move a swimmer beyond help from shore, and swimmers in areas with rip currents learn to swim across any one they encounter following a line parallel to shore. Once outside the current, one can swim directly toward the beach. Finally, the plan that Odysseus concocted to try to make shore at the mouth of a river he spied was a sound one. His priorities for locating “shelving beaches” and natural harbors were just as wise.11 A sudden decrease in water depth produces higher waves, a gradual decrease produces lighter waves. Natural harbors are inlets largely protected from the elements. Odysseus’s swim to safety on Phaeacia communicated multiple messages about survival. Homer made it clear that the magical veil of Leukothea brought divine forces to bear on the success of Odysseus and protected his determined fate. Dio Chrysostom observed that it was Fortune who kept Odysseus safe from harm as he struggled amid the waves.12 Homer did ascribe a role to Odysseus’s own skill. Held afloat by the magical veil, Odysseus “swam” (nēchemenai) vigorously through the surf break to the mouth of the river. If one wanted to survive shipwreck and could not count on Leukothea’s veil, that person would be well advised to learn to swim, understand the forces at work in the sea, use those forces to possible advantage, and make one’s way to a safe exit point on shore. After Homer’s epic enunciation, dramatic accounts of shipwreck feature in later poetry and prose. At the outset of the Aeneid, Virgil portrayed the Mediterranean’s storm-pummeled surface littered with ship’s planking, treasures from Troy, and swimmers “in the vast abyss.”13 Virgil also invested swimming with humorous and sobering elements. Menoetes ended up the comic swimmer when he was helmsman on a ship commanded by brash Gyas. Leading a race and approaching a rock designated the turning point, Gyas instructed Menoetes to steer the ship so close to the rock that the port oars would scrape it. The cautious Menoetes instead steered a safe distance away. The maneuver allowed a competitor to pass Gyas on the inside. Enraged, Gyas 11 Hom. Od. 5.417–18 (Odyssey, 1919, 1:212–13). 12 Dio Chrys. Or. 64.10–11. Plutarch (Mor. De vitando aere alieno 831e) used the swim of Odysseus to symbolize the plight of a debtor when a lender insists on payment. 13 Verg. Aen. 1.118–19 (Aeneid, 1916, 270–71): “apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto …”.

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heaved Menoetes into the sea. All then gathered at the rail to see if the helmsman, still fully clothed, would resurface. They laughed when the old man flew off the ship, swam awkwardly in soaked clothing, and struggled onto the rock marker, spewing out seawater.14 They should have paused to admire the aged Menoetes outdoing resourceful Odysseus. Menoetes swam dressed and without the aid of a magical veil and then clambered up on the sort of rock that Odysseus avoided along the Phaeacian coast. On the sobering side, Aeneas’s helmsman Palinurus became the victim that Neptune required if the rest of the Trojans were to sail safely to Italy. It was a calm and still night when a capricious instant of violence tore away the steering oar and Palinurus with it. Palinurus did not die by drowning. He survived several days in the water because he swam well. Instead barbarous folk attacked him on his rock perch along the shore.15 The experience of Palinurus combined elements of the stories of Odysseus and Menoetes. Like Odysseus, Palinurus endured for days and nights in the water (perhaps with the aid of the rudder), he sighted Italy by riding up on a wave, and he successfully swam to shore. Like Menoetes, Palinurus swam weighed down by dripping garb and exited the water onto a spur of rugged cliffs. A pair of swimmers doubled the excitement. Greek novelists utilized the theme, often for romantic purposes. Achilles Tatius narrated that a sudden shift in wind and wild seas wrecked the ship carrying his protagonists, Leucippe and Clitophon. Clitophon characterized as preferable the fate of those who drowned immediately. Those who survived were tormented by the thought of a slow death at sea, exacerbated by gazing upon the expanse of water in which they were trapped. Some tried to swim to safety but were dashed by waves onto rocks. Still others were trying to swim while in shock. Leucippe and Clitophon were fortunate enough to locate a portion of the bow where they were sitting at the time of the accident. They pressed the wreckage into service as a float. Clitophon’s cousin Clinias swam while grasping the ship’s yard. When a wave submerged one end, Clinias suffered a fate like a surfer when the tip of his board goes under. That halts the progress of the submerged portion and flings the rider off. Clinias flew directly onto a rock. He survived the impact, swam the rest of the day, but began to lose hope as time passed. Suddenly, Clinias spied a ship coming toward him, so he lifted his hands as high as he could and gestured for help. The narrative suggests a strong treader of water. The crew of the ship threw Clinias a line and pulled him on board.16 14 Verg. Aen. 5.172–82. See, e.g., Lloyd, 254. 15 Verg. Aen. 5.858–60, 6.337–62. See, e.g., Hardie, 102–14. 16 Ach. Tat. 3.4.1–5.2, 5.9.1–3 (Leucippe and Clitophon, 1969, 142–45, 252–55).

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Xenophon of Ephesus imagined pirates attacking the vessel on which Anthia and Habrocomes were traveling. When the pirates boarded, they took as slaves a few passengers, including the boy Habrocomes, slaughtered the remaining travelers, and burned the ship. In a gesture of loyalty, the slave who accompanied Habrocomes to school (paedagogus) threw himself overboard, swam after the galley of the pirates, shouted to Habrocomes on board that life meant nothing to him without his ward, confessed that he had lost hope of ever seeing Habrocomes again, and surrendered to fatigue and the waves. Perhaps the tutor had taught both letters and swimming to Habrocomes.17 In the novel Daphnis and Chloe by Longus, the lovers exacted a measure of revenge on the pirates who had kidnaped Daphnis and some cows belonging to a herdsman named Dorcon. The pirates had left Dorcon mortally wounded on shore. He told Chloe to strike up a tune that the cattle knew. When the cattle heard her playing the tune on pipes, they all ran to the rail, causing the vessel to heel violently. The cows then jumped off in the direction of their Pied Piper. The collective impact generated a wave that sank the ship. With cutlasses hanging at their sides and armor in place, the pirates were all pulled under after a brief swim. Daphnis had better odds. He entered the water half-dressed and barefoot. An apprentice goatherd knew how to handle hot weather. Once in the water, he rid himself of his remaining clothing and swam. Because Daphnis usually swam in rivers, he did experience greater fatigue in the sea’s rougher waters. The cattle were a sure bet. The playful narrator proposed that cows are better swimmers than humans, and they only experience trouble if their hooves become waterlogged and fall off. The weary Daphnis grabbed the horns of two cows and went along for the ride.18 1

Rescuers

1.1 Catalyst: Solidarity and Skill of Dolphins The historian Herodotus supplied the classic narrative of a dolphin saving the distressed swimmer Arion. The choice that the thieving crew offered Arion on the voyage to Corinth was no choice: Arion could either kill himself and receive a proper burial or he could jump overboard and never receive proper burial. 17 Xen. Ephes. Ephes. 1.12–14 (Anthia and Habrocomes, 2009, 282–85). 18 Longus Daphnis and Chloe 1.30.1–6. Cf. also Apul. Met. 2.14 (seer Diophanes barely swimming ashore after shipwreck during voyage he predicted would be successful); and Ov. Pont. 1.39–42 (oddity of shipwrecked galley rower swimming to safety and then returning to the benches).

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Arion surprised them by requesting to give one last performance. He made the request because he calculated that dolphins love music, and his swan song might attract them to the ship. It did. Arion’s leap from the ship’s stern in full costume indicated his trust in divine forces to save him. It would be ludicrous to try to swim while theatrically clothed. The drenched outfit later served to dispel Periander’s doubts about Arion’s story. It likewise convicted his tormenters of perjury when they told the court that they had left him safely on shore at Tarentum as they set sail for home.19 So effective was the account that it was re-presented for centuries in various media: a statue that Arion dedicated at Taenarum where the dolphin deposited him, a cultic dance featuring swift dolphin actors, and textual accounts in Cicero, Ovid, Propertius, both Pliny’s, Plutarch, Oppian, Pausanias, and Aulus Gellius.20 It inspired other accounts, often embellished with astonishing details to enthrall seemingly insatiable fans of dolphin tales. Ancient authors at times invented dolphin rescues to portray human actors as the antithesis to animals of instinctive empathy. Arion had to be saved from the thieving and murdering crew of the ship on which he booked passage. When the ships of Coeranus and Phalanthus of Sparta were wrecked at sea, a dolphin brought those individuals safely to shore. No one else aided the others, and they drowned.21 C. Lee Miller argued that Pliny the Younger structured his letter about the friendly dolphin at Hippo Diarrhytus to highlight an increasing lack of solidarity as humans grew older and became more politically self-interested.22 In the company of the dolphin, the boys of the settlement went from fearful to admiring and finally to welcoming. By contrast, the adult citizens went from skeptical to ashamed for doubting such a magnificent creature to seeking profit at its expense. They turned the dolphin into a tourist attraction. The local North African officials who arrived on the scene went from intrigued to bored to bothered by the nuisance of increasing numbers of visitors who overwhelmed the local infrastructure. So, they arranged to have the dolphin quietly eliminated. Instinctively friendly dolphins, with nothing to gain, shamed humans who prided themselves on compassion. To survive shipwreck, a human being had few good options. The person could cling to wreckage, swim toward the nearest visible ship or shore, and trust in divine assistance rendered through the 19 Hdt. 1.23–24. Flory; Hooker; and Gray, 19–22. 20 See, e.g., Plin. HN 9.24; Plut. Mor. Conv. sept. sap. 161b–62b; Oppian Halieutica 5.448–58; Gell. NA 16.19; and Csapo, 90–95. 21 Plut. Mor. De soll. an. 985a–b; and Ael. NA 8.3. Pausanias 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).13.10. See Bowra, 131–32. 22 Plin. Ep. 9.33.4–11. Miller.

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agency of dolphins. The fact that dolphins in both fiction and non-fiction rescue humans does not seem altogether reassuring. Ancient authors insinuated that humans in crisis in the water were well advised to count on their own skill and the assistance they could offer each other. 1.2 Response: Human Rescue Services Various authors publicized the value of organized rescue at sea. Diodorus Siculus described the chronic crisis associated with a harbor in Egypt a short distance north of Ptolemaïs Theron (Trinkitat). The Red Sea harbor, situated close to the hunting grounds for African elephants, had shallow waters and an erratic shape that impeded wave flow. Oared vessels could handle the marine conditions, but sailed vessels and their deep draft encountered serious problems. That was particularly the case for elephant transports. Repeatedly, sailing vessels got into trouble entering the harbor at night while running before the wind. The vessels either wrecked on rocks or ran aground on ship traps. The aftermath underlined the desirability of a rescue squad at a harbor ironically named Soteria (Deliverance). Sailors were stuck on board a grounded vessel and would not disembark because they were not comfortable swimming. Even after jettisoning everything but essential provisions, they still could not lever the ship free. They gazed out at an inhospitable horizon where they could see no island or promontory or another ship. Sand carried by waves rapidly buried the ship and its doomed crew.23 The Romans did seek to address the problem. A marble relief on a thirdcentury sarcophagus now in Copenhagen’s Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek suggests that the Romans attempted in-water rescues of a man overboard.24 The sarcophagus depicts three large ships, each manned by a crew of three sailors, and a smaller boat with no one on board. On the extreme right is a lighthouse and on the left a tower with a parapet. While the man overboard waves his left arm to plead for help, a spotter on the tower seems to have noticed him and alerted nearby ships to go to his rescue. The empty boat has two quarter rudders, indicating dimensions sufficient for a ship’s boat. The individual struggling in the water may have been the sailor manning that boat who was thrown out by the sudden onset of a storm. The ship for which the boat served is too far beyond him to pull him on board and must concentrate on not colliding with another ship, trying to enter the harbor. The ship on the left, also leaving the harbor, has a sailor bent over on the bow, ready to try and grab the wretch or throw him a 23 Diod. Sic. 3.40.1–9. See, e.g., Sidebotham, 2011, 39–53. 24 Janni, 392–93 fig. 72. Reproduction in Aguilar, https://www.storicang.it/a/antichi-relitti -istantanee-passato_14818.

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float. All the sailors are naked, the common way to swim if they had to go into the water. The man overboard struggles as dolphins swim in front and behind him. The mythical rescuers call forth similar effort from ordinary sailors. The fact that the relief is found on a sarcophagus suggests that the rescue failed.25 On two occasions, Plutarch provided evidence for rescuing swimmers in distress. In the first, Plutarch compared the assistance that daemons gave to mortals to the assistance that persons on shore offered to swimmers. If a swimmer was a good distance from land, those on shore silently kept an eye on him. The observers assumed that anyone swimming so far out was proficient, but they wanted to be able to hear the person if he shouted for help. When a swimmer came in, the observers ran along the shore toward the presumed exit point, waded in, and stayed close at hand until both were safe. In the second text, Plutarch described a situation in which a friend came upon another going through tough times. Candid words can be helpful to the unfortunate, while feverish words do harm. Plutarch compared the harmful approach to a person who tries to rescue someone drowning without knowing how to swim. The would-be rescuer ends up clutching the drowning swimmer and dragging both to their deaths.26 In a dialogue on friendship, Lucian described a bona fide friend who showed solidarity to a victim in turbulent waters. Lucian knew that his audience was familiar with the type pattern of a storm at sea. He supplied skeletal details of a sudden tempest that hit the ship on which Damon and his friend Euthydicus were traveling. The ship’s rocking made Damon rush to the rail and heave. As he did, the ship heeled sharply in that direction, washing Damon overboard. All was stacked against him: he went to vomit fully clothed whereas one swam more easily if naked, he was choking on water as he tried to call for help in the dark, and he was struggling to stay above the surface so he could be heard. Euthydicus did hear him while trying to fall asleep. Advantageously undressed, he leapt into the water and swam to Damon. At that point Lucian seemed to realize that his narrative might not make sense. How did Euthydicus spot Damon in the darkness? He included a note that Damon was visible because the bright moon knifed through the storm clouds. Euthydicus swam alongside Damon and supported him in the water. The wording mirrored that of Xenophon in his Ephesian Tales. Euthydicus’s unselfish action led the others on board to try and help. However, because the vessel was moving so quickly in

25 See, e.g., Toby, 209–11; Casson, 1991, 220–22. 26 Plut. Mor. De gen. 593f; and Plut. Mor. De exil. 599a–b. See, e.g., van Hoof, 145–47.

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strong winds, they could not jump in. They did hurl pieces of cork, spars, and even a gangplank. The cork was likely on board to mark anchor-cables.27 Fiction and non-fiction alike illustrated the antithesis of selfless friendship. In some wrecking narratives it was every man and woman for themselves. During the fictional wreck of Clitophon, Achilles Tatius described desperate passengers sabotaging each other’s chances. In real life, Caligula exhibited remorseless cruelty on his boat bridge from Baiae to Puteoli. The two-day spectacle concluded with an extravagant party, beginning in daylight and continuing into the night. While Caligula presided from the bridge, his soldiers anchored round about on boats. Feasting finished, Caligula hurled his bridge companions into the sea and orchestrated the ramming and sinking of his soldiers’ boats. Dio credited the good fortune of an extremely calm night and water like glass for allowing the majority of those thrown suddenly into the water to save themselves by swimming, even if they were drunk. To the emperor’s glee, some did die.28 In Suetonius’s telling, Caligula invited those on shore to join him on the bridge. He then had all of those who were ferried out on boats tossed overboard. When some clutched desperately at the quarter rudders, Caligula bashed them with oars and boat poles (conti).29 1.3 The Rarity of Rescue and the Complications of Love No matter how skilled a swimmer, individuals drowned in the various marine environments of antiquity. To characterize Penelope’s joy at the return of Odysseus after her years of faithful waiting, Homer compared their mutual struggles to the few survivors of a shipwreck who are elated upon swimming to shore.30 An epigram in the Greek Anthology underlined the danger of swimming while inebriated. A drunken sailor named Ion fell overboard from a ship at anchor in a harbor. He was so wasted that he could not move his hands properly to swim.31 Xenophon recorded a tragedy he witnessed during the march of the 10,000 Greeks. Sudden panic led to mass drowning. Messengers from Cerasus chased by lawless rebels from the Greek army rushed into the Black Sea. Those who did not know how to swim drowned as they tried to escape.32 Pausanias recalled a tragic episode in which thirty-five boys and their chaperones drowned in the Straits of Messina. Bronze statues were erected 27 28 29 30 31 32

Luc. Toxaris seu Amicitia 19–20. See, e.g., ní Mheallaigh, 49–55. Cass. Dio 59.17.1–18.1. Suet. Calig. 32.1–2 (Lives, 1914, 1:466). Hom. Od. 23.231–40. See, e.g., Avramidis. Anth. Pal. 9.82. Xen. An. 5.7.16–26. See, e.g., Prevas, 163–65.

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at Olympia to commemorate the choir from Messenia (Messina) voyaging to perform at Rhegium (Reggio Calabria).33 The ancients shared the belief that a captain should be the last to abandon ship. Cornelius Nepos celebrated the Athenian commander Chabrias, whose trireme was the first to storm into the harbor of Chios in 357 BCE. When the rest of the fleet did not follow, Chabrias confronted the rebels alone and found his galley beginning to sink after it was rammed. Even though the Athenian fleet had roving vessels to pick up swimmers, Chabrias chose not to abandon ship and died honorably in hand-to-hand combat. The rest of his crew chose life over honor. They saved themselves by swimming to the rescue boats.34 Silius Italicus ascribed the Roman disaster at Cannae to the demagogic ambition of the consul Gaius Terentius Varro. Terentius Varro survived the battle and was reported to be approaching Rome. Silius drew an analogy between the arrival of Terentius Varro and the arrival of the captain of a wrecked ship who alone had survived by swimming to shore. Those who discovered the ship’s captain on the beach were ambivalent whether to welcome him as a man manhandled by the sea or disown him as the sole survivor from his sunken ship.35 Ancient literature emphasized that romance exacerbated the dangers of every marine environment. Swept away by passion, a swimmer might well be swept away by the sea’s waves or a river’s current. In the Phoenician Women, the Younger Seneca depicted Oedipus as so infatuated with Antigone that he offered to swim across the entire Aegean.36 Even mighty Heracles feared for his wife Deianira’s safety when they confronted the Evenus River in flood. The centaur Nessus offered to assist Heracles by ferrying her over a ford he knew. Heracles accepted the suggestion of Nessus, but he let the centaur cajole him into using only his awesome strength to swim over. He spurned the smoother waters and decided to challenge the turbulent flow. Heracles hurled his club and bow to the other bank, but he retained his quiver and lion’s skin as he swam across. At the ford, the libidinous centaur put Deianira on his back. She became increasingly fearful of river and rescuer. As Heracles exited the swift water, the first thing he heard was his wife screaming for help as Nessus tried to rape her. He saved her and slew the centaur.37

33 34 35 36

Paus. 5(Elis).25.3–4. Nep. De viris illustribus (Excell. duc.) 12 (Chabrias).4.2–3. See, e.g., Stem, 38–39. Sil. Pun. 10.605–14. Sen. Phoenissae 313–14 (Oedipus also offered to swallow flaming lava from Etna, allow himself to be bound and expose his liver to vultures, and confront the dragon guarding the tree with the golden apples of Hesperides). 37 Ov. Met. 9.98–133.

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Ovid perfected the portrayal of a lover’s swim in the letters of Leander and Hero. The tale often won a place in literature during the Roman Empire and was popular enough to be depicted in mosaics and frescoes, performed in stage pantomimes, and re-enacted in aquatic spectacles.38 Leander initiated the exchange after he was delayed seven nights by a raging storm without and within. The pent-up frustration of separation and the dangerous weather in an already difficult marine environment meant that Leander’s swimming across the Hellespont was no longer simply risky but mad. He knew well the dangers of the watery space separating them. There were the depth and chill of the waters, the distance between Sestus and Abydus, the tidal action and swell, and the sea beasts dwelling in the deep. If one wondered why Leander spurned a boat and swam, Ovid suggested an answer in his Art of Seducing a Woman. Women are aroused when men come to them by a more difficult route.39 Hero seemed to play along. She contemplated Leander swimming in straits that are dangerous to ships. She asked herself rhetorically if his arms were stronger than oars. Sailors dread the possibility of ending up wrecked in those waters and having to swim to safety. Why would Leander freely choose to swim them? In fact, the sheer difficulty of swimming across to her led Hero to rethink her impatience with him for not coming for a week.40 While the body of water constituted a formidable challenge to Leander, his chosen moment to swim increased the danger. To hide the liaison from both sets of parents, Leander traveled at night. As aids for night swimming, Leander utilized the light from the moon, the torch that Hero lit in a tower on the opposite shore, and the pattern of tidal action in the straits.41 He reasoned that he should swim with the tide and wait for a “tranquil deep” (placido ponto).42 His principal criterion for the propitious moment was a sea yielding to the swimmer, and his spontaneous prayer to Diana, elicited by the moon, was for such conditions. Hero, in her less passionate moments, endorsed that plan. He should only entrust his arms to a sea that was calm. Over a century later, 38 Ov. Her. 18–19. See, e.g., Rimell, 180–204. 39 Ov. Ars am. 2.243–50. 40 Swimming across the Hellespont became such a commonplace in the Roman imagination that Statius contended that Manilius Vopiscus did so by building symmetrical halves of his villa on each bank of the Anio River. Stat. Silv. 1.3.25–28. See, e.g., Newlands, 119–53, 305–06; and Campbell, 123–24, 331–32. 41 Anth. Pal. 9.381 (Homeric Cento) (Greek Anthology, 1917, 3:209–11): “And he swiftly passed across the depth of the sea, / through the ambrosial night when other mortals sleep, for a great wave surged towards the dry land of the continent.” 42 Ov. Her. 18.23 (Heroides, 1914, 244).

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Marcus Cornelius Fronto highlighted the unpredictable risks of swimming in so deep a sea at night. The moon might set, the wind might extinguish the lantern of Hero, the cold might numb Leander’s senses in route, and a wave or reef or sea creature might do him fatal harm.43 Leander had swum the channel before, and he fully intended to do so again when the storm abated. He could draw upon his deserved reputation as one swimming in the flower of youth (iuvenis natans) and a mighty swimmer (magnus natator).44 In the past he had stripped naked, oiled his body, entered the water, and sliced through the waves with his agile arms. Every danger that he encountered he parried through passion for Hero: the cold by the heat of affection, the fatigue by the torches in the distance that signaled his goal. He had flung away his fear with his clothes. Of late, however, he had three times stripped naked and attempted the crossing, but the fierce waves rebuffed him. Hero echoed Leander’s description. He employed a rhythmic swimming stroke, characterized by deliberate arms whose economical movements compensated for the fatigue he felt in his shoulders but left him susceptible to the chill he felt all over. Like Odysseus, he took advantage of the swell to rise in the water where he could see Hero’s lantern. The sight of her light reinvigorated his stroke. As he neared the opposite shore, he quickened his pace. “I strain in my stroke (nando) to pleasure my lady.”45 Leander meant that he gives joy to Hero by letting her know that he is close at hand, but the figurative import intimates the ecstasy to come. Hero echoed Leander’s metaphor for his swimming at its most fluid. He was like the bow of a vessel slicing through the waves. In fact, he was ship, crew, and cargo all wrapped into one. From the perspective of swimming, Ovid endowed his narrative with subtle ambiguity. By swimming, human beings may well achieve important goals, but they need to approach swimming rationally because they are doing something inherently risky. When passion overwhelms reason, bad things happen. And one must not allow passion to induce myopia. Going to Hero, Leander is an enraptured swimmer; leaving her, however, Leander becomes a shipwrecked man. He has lost the motivation that compensated for danger and is now completely exposed to the cold of the water, the swiftness of its current, the height of its waves. Hero senses that as well when she examines her impatience for his not coming sooner. Her dream of a dolphin cast up on the sands needs no explanation. It ends, eloquently, with her seeing wave and life abandon the dolphin simultaneously. Virgil captured the bleakness: “yet neither his hapless 43 Fronto Ep. 3.13.3 (Correspondence, 1919, 1:222–23). 44 Ov. Her. 19.90, 145 (Heroides, 1914, 264, 268). 45 Ov. Her. 18.95 (Heroides, 1914, 251).

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parent can call him back, nor thought of the maiden doomed to die on his untimely corpse.”46 1.4 Additional Dangers Various marine environments and their inhabitants presented other dangers to swimmers. The ancients considered some waters perilous even for those who knew how to swim. Diodorus Siculus described a river and a lake in Babylon which had what seemed an endless fount of bitumen (oxidized petroleum). Swimmers would enter the water and head toward the middle. There matters took a dramatic turn for the worse. Sensing themselves pulled down, the swimmers tried to turn around and return to the safety of shore. As they struggled, they found that they were drawn inexorably into the lake’s center. Gradually, a numbness spread upward from the feet to the legs and the groin until the loss of feeling decided every swimmer’s fate. Their corpses eventually floated back to the surface. Diodorus may have referred to an area along the Euphrates about 200 km upstream from the city of Babylon where there are still surface indications of petroleum. Vitruvius also mentioned an Asphalt Lake (limne asphaltitis) in Babylon where bitumen floated on the surface.47 Pausanias described similar problems when swimming in the cunning waters of the Alcyonian lake. Although the waters appeared placid, every swimmer trying to cross the pool found himself sucked into its deadly depths. Nero had ropes several stades long tied together, but he still could not sound its depth. Since the pool seemed bottomless, the ancients considered it one entrance to the underworld.48 In 343 BCE the Egyptians used the quicksand of Lake Sirbonis to slow the invasion of Artaxerxes III of Persia. The Egyptians only had to lure the Persians into crossing the lake, and the unfamiliar bogs did the rest. Whereas Diodorus Siculus said that a thin layer of sand blown off the desert covered the slime below, Frontinus claimed that the Egyptians laid seaweed across the marsh to disguise it. Whatever the camouflage, the Persians marched in, sank into the muck, and could not touch bottom nor swim out.49 Marine growth posed another hazard to swimmers. Around 300 BCE, the philosopher Alexinus moved to Olympia where he started his own school. However, his disciples soon found themselves put off by the unhealthy environment and abandoned 46 Verg. G. 3.262–63 (Georgics, 1916, 194–95). 47 Diod. Sic. 2.12.1–3; and Vitruv. De arch. 8.3.8 (On Architecture, 1934, 2:158–59). See, e.g., Sulimani, 261–64. 48 Paus. 2(Corinth).37.5–6. 49 Diod. Sic. 1.1.30.4–9, 16.46.5; and Frontin. Str. 2.5.6. See, e.g., Gmirkin, 215–20.

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figure 3 The Shipwreck Krater, Pithekoussai, c. 725–700 BCE

him. The solitary Alexinus consoled himself by going for a swim in the Alpheus River. He was cut by a sharp reed, and the wound proved fatal.50 Among the improbable dangers that swimmers encountered in antiquity was their being swallowed by a giant sea creature. Swimming in murky water set the ancient imagination to work on what lurked below. Sacred Hebrew texts exploited the fear of the monster Leviathan and narrated the fate of Jonah inside a whale. Iconography likewise incited terror. A Late Geometric krater from Pithekoussai depicted one shipwrecked man whose upper body has already been ingested by a big fish and a second about to lose his head.51 Classical fiction exploited the fanciful possibilities of life inside a whale. Lucian gave the theme his customarily comic twist. Disoriented new arrivals in the belly of the beast found Cypriots at work in a vegetable garden they cultivated on an island in a lake. The Cypriots informed the visitors that the lake itself was ideal for swimming or sailing, and it was well-stocked with fish to supplement those they plucked from the whale’s “gills” (baleen?). Swimming in the 50 Diog. Laert. 2.10.109–110 (Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 1925, 1:238). The fact that the philosopher succumbed to a reed lent credence for Diogenes to a story about another unfortunate who pierced his foot on a nail when diving (kolumbōn). See, e.g., C. D. Jonge, 139–40. 51 Whales did frequent the Mediterranean in antiquity, and some whales are of leviathan stature. See, e.g., Papadopoulos and Ruscillo, 206–22; Mammal Anatomy, 97; and Nestor, 170.

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lake was so pleasant that the Cypriots liked the idea of being sea creatures in a sea creature.52 One non-fictional account of a large sea creature attacking a human may reflect the presence of killer whales in the ancient Mediterranean. Aelian heard a story from Corsicans about the hubris of an individual shipwrecked in the Straits of Bonifacio. The strong swimmer crossed the expanse of sea until he was able to grab hold of a headland on the Corsican side. He climbed up on the rock and congratulated himself on making his way to safety. Just then a ram-fish (thalattios krios), watching the swimmer emerge, arched its back and generated a big wave. The fish allowed the wave to lift him up, and he surfed it to the headland. Striking with the sudden force of a cyclone, the ramfish devoured the swimmer. Even Aelian, hardly averse to accepting incredible reports, labeled this one a tall tale. That has not stopped scholars from trying to pin down the creature in question. They work from the clues the ancients offered about the ram-fish. It would appear on the surface of the water in the Straits during the winter. Large dolphins often swam around it. The male of the species had a white band around its forehead, while the female had curls below the neck. Both had useful hairs in their nostrils. The ram-fish had menacing habits: it fed on dead bodies, it consumed those perched near the water’s edge, and its immense bulk in motion generated waves that could swamp ships. Scientists have determined that right, grey, and humpback whales entered the Mediterranean in ancient times. All three are coastal species. The white band on the male ram-fish may correspond to the white callosities of right whales. Callosities are white calcified skin patches on their heads. The curls below the neck of a female ram-fish may be the deep ventral grooves of humpbacks. The useful hairs in the nostrils probably refer to baleen. Spending the winter in the straits between Corsica and Sardinia would be compatible with the behavior of right and humpback whales, if either migrated into the Mediterranean. Killer whales do attack seals on land near the shoreline and probably entered the Mediterranean to hunt their preferred food sources, monk seals and other whales, until both were exhausted.53 Ram-fish were not alone in terrifying ancient swimmers. Pausanias described hot springs on the Methana peninsula that had no cold pools. Perspiring bathers were tempted to dive into the sea. They resisted because those waters swarmed with malicious creatures, particularly dogfish who were cousins of larger sharks.54 Ancient Egypt produced memorable stories of crocodiles on 52 Luc. Ver. hist. 1.34 (A True Story, 1913, 290–91). See, e.g., Djelal, 50–53. 53 Ael. NA 15.2. See, e.g., Esteban et al., 142–44; and Rodrigues et al., 929–36. 54 Paus. 2(Corinth).34.1–2.

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the Nile River. Their presence dissuaded bandits in Arabia and Libya from swimming over the Nile to plunder Egyptian towns. Crocodiles provided other services. A king named Menes suffered the humiliation of having his own dogs chase him into Lake Moeris, where a kind croc collected the king on his back and transported him to safety. In gratitude, the king founded a city named Crocodeilonopolis (Arsinoë, Kom Fāris) at a Nile oasis in central Egypt called the Fayum and made it taboo to hunt crocodiles in that oasis. The legend probably refers to Amenemhet III, the pharaoh closely associated with the Fayum. A crocodile god remained a popular deity in the villages of the Fayum, and crocodiles were mummified for burial alongside humans. Ritual and legend addressed the problem that any human consumed by a Nile crocodile could not receive a proper burial.55 Crocodiles had teeth. Philo of Alexandria contended that crocodiles respond to the level of threat they perceive. Where honored, crocodiles behave tamely. There were places in Egypt where people swam with them. Where hunted, however, crocodiles became aggressive. Because hunted crocodiles hid themselves in the murky depths of the Nile, it was dangerous for those living nearby to put a single finger into the water.56 When the Macedonian commander Perdiccas called off a surprise attack on Memphis, he ordered his troops on an island in the Nile to swim back to the river bank. His losses were significant, 2,000 dead from various causes; most ended up devoured by crocodiles.57 Lucian saw Egypt as saturated with superstition, and he carried on his relentless polemic against religious charlatans. The Syrian humorist focused his satire on a sacred scribe and “learned” scholar in Memphis named Pancrates. Rumor reported that Pancrates for twenty-three years had lived in an underground sanctuary, where he learned magic from divine Isis herself. When Pancrates re-emerged, he claimed he could work miracles. As a demonstration, he anchored his boat on the Nile in order to commune with the river’s divine crocs. While he rode on their backs and swam in their company, the crocodiles fawned over the holy man. They wagged their tails in approval.58 A wealthy merchant named Firmus, who led a revolt at Alexandria in 273 CE, likewise used crocodiles to make a point. Firmus decided to show his physical prowess by taking on all Egyptian animal comers. He drove an elephant, mounted a 55 Diod. Sic. 1.89.1–3. See, e.g., Burton, 160–62, 259–60; and Jansen-Winkeln, “Arsinoe III.2: Town in Middle Egypt,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. As variants for the king’s name, Burton gave Menas, Marrus, Mendes, and even Moeris, the same as the lake he excavated. 56 Philo De Providentia 2(646).45. See, e.g., Pearce, 22, 279–82. 57 Diod. Sic. 18.35.1–6. See, e.g., Worthington, 95–97. 58 Luc. Philops. 34. See, e.g., Hartog, 72–73.

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hippo, and rode giant ostriches so swiftly that he seemed to fly. The clou came when Firmus rubbed his body with crocodile fat and swam in their midst.59 Instead of communing with Nile crocodiles, the people of Tentyra (Denderah) showed contempt for them. Living on an island in the Nile, the Tentyritae swam in the river, tracked the crocodiles, and killed a number sufficient to guarantee their own safety. They learned to chase the crocs who ran away and run from those who chased them. If chasing, they dived into the river, climbed on the coward’s back, waited for it to crack open its powerful jaws, inserted a staff, and then utilized the staff like a horse’s bridle. They likewise forced captured crocodiles to disgorge any human remains so that they could give the person proper burial. Augustus brought the Tentyritae to Rome to handle the crocodiles for his aquatic shows in the Circus Flaminius. They would enter the reservoir of water, net the crocodiles, and drag them onto the stage. Viewing completed, the Tentyritae then pulled the crocs back into their reservoir. By applying common sense, Seneca the Younger demystified the collective reputation for courage. The ability to handle crocodiles was not a factor of race or blood lines. As proof that handling crocodiles did not characterize an entire people, Seneca adduced the rather compelling evidence that many Tentyritae died while confronting the beasts.60 2

The Further Benefits of Swimming

Among the ancillary purposes for swimming in antiquity were health therapy, physical exercise, competition, recreation, and erotic play. Proponents of ancient medicine specified different pathologies, which swimming might assist. Cornelius Celsus noted that rabies could often lead to hydrophobia, leaving one thirsty and afraid of water. He proposed surprising the patient by throwing him into a pool he had never seen. If the person did not know how to swim, the physician should let him go under and then pull him to safety. If the individual could swim, the physician should submerge him in order to force him to swallow water. Celsus included swimming in cold water among various remedies for excessive ejection of semen (spermatorrhoea) outside of coitus.61 Pliny argued that quadrupeds and humans could use swimming to reset a dislocated limb.62 Galen discovered healing properties in a peculiar type of water 59 60 61 62

SHA Firmus, Saturninus, Proculus, Bonosus 29. See, e.g., Gilliam. Strabo 17.1.44; Plin. HN 8.92–93; and Sen. QNat. 4A(Nile).15. See, e.g., Coleman, 56. Celsus, Med. 4.28(21).1–2, 5.27.2c–d. Plin. HN 31.71.

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on the island of Lesbos. Its drying effects assisted the treatment of obesity, especially when one had the overweight person swim with maximum exertion (kolumban oxutata).63 When combined with divine aid, Pausanias saw swimming as a way to cure disgusting skin diseases. Ancient physicians further recommended swimming as an aid for tertian fevers, stuffed noses, impaired smell, persistent headaches, and arthritic conditions.64 The ancients valued swimming as a form of physical exercise. Cicero and Horace celebrated the proficiency that their mutual friend, the lawyer Gaius Trebatius Testa (c. 84 BCE–after 4 CE) attained through regular practice. He had to be an outstanding swimmer for Cicero’s barbed innuendo to hit home. Cicero wrote Trebatius in 54 BCE to congratulate the lawyer on his new relationship with Julius Caesar. Trebatius was doing a fine job of remaining in winter quarters and avoiding active service in the Roman invasion of Britain. Cicero ribbed him about his calculations. Though an avid swimmer (homo natandi), Trebatius had no desire to take a dip in the English Channel. And though a big fan of blindfolded gladiators, Trebatius likewise had no desire to get a front-row seat to watch Celtic charioteers in action. Trebatius was far more cautious on a battlefield than he was in a courtroom.65 Horace imagined a satiric exchange with Trebatius when his poetry was under indictment for being too savage. As a lawyer and friend, Trebatius conducted a pretrial interview. Trebatius first suggested that Horace could cure the insomnia he suffered due to his obsession with writing poetry by doing two things. First, Horace should oil his naked body and swim back and forth across the Tiber three times, and then, as darkness was falling, Horace should get plastered on wine. The humor lay in Horace’s having Trebatius advocate two things that Trebatius himself thoroughly enjoyed: a long, invigorating Tiber swim followed by a concerted effort to drink until he passed out.66 The three times across the Tiber and back probably represented a typical swimming workout. Roman authors had one piece of consistent advice on swimming that became proverbial. When exercising in a river, the swimmer should not struggle against the current but go with the flow. Ovid twice proposed that advice. He affirmed that you cannot conquer rivers if you swim against the current. He also suggested that only a foolish swimmer struggles against the stream; the wise swimmer angles back and forth, the swimming version of 63 Gal. De methodo medendi 14.996K–97K. Cf. Papavramidou, Papavramidis, and Christopoulou-Aletra. 64 Paus. 5(Elis).5.7. See, e.g., Larson, 2001, 159. 65 Cic. Fam. 7.10 (Letters to Friends, 2001, 1:202–5). See, e.g., Nice, 71–82. 66 Hor. Sat. 2.1.7–9. See, e.g., Clauss, 198–99.

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tacking when sailing into the wind. Juvenal claimed that the counselor Crispus survived the capricious anger of Domitian by not swimming against the torrent of vitriol. Fronto wondered whether the unnamed emperor with whom he was corresponding would direct him to swim against the current of his natural instincts.67 The ancients generally trained in swimming for personal conditioning rather than to compete in races. In mythology Nereids held swim competitions (sueto certamine nandi). Lucian’s Micyllus beat the boat of Charon across the Styx. He had reached the river when the boat was already full for the last crossing. Told to wait, he decided instead to swim across since there was little risk to one already dead.68 Swimming was not a part of the Olympic games or those at other festivals. Pausanias has a single reference to what may have been an organized swimming contest. That occurred at Hermione on the Peloponnesus as part of the festival for Dionysus Melanaigis (of the Black Goatskin). The celebration featured a music competition and boat races. When Pausanias described the final competition as a hamillēs kolumbou, he could intend a swimming or a free-diving contest. Plutarch used a similar expression when he claimed that dolphins compete with children in diving (kolumbois hamillatai). The only description of a swimming race in a river occurs in the late epic poem of Nonnus. The only known free-diving contests come from medieval and modern times where divers competed to retrieve an object thrown into the water. Though ancient authors like Thucydides and Pausanias added a prefix or adjective to clarify that they were using kolumbos to refer to free-diving, not swimming, that usage was not consistent. The Greeks conceived of a free-diver swimming to the bottom, searching the bottom by swimming, and swimming back to the surface. That all militates against pinpointing the nature of the competition at Hermione.69 Even the indications of improvised swimming contests are sparse. If the text of Cicero’s De senectute reads natationes, not venationes, he urged seniors to get their exercise tilling the soil and then relax by playing games while seated. 67 Ov. Ars am. 2.179–84; Ov. Rem. am. 119–22; Juv. 1.4.89–93; and Fronto Ep. 1 (Correspondence, 1920, 2:46–47). Apollonius Rhodius communicated a sense of the dynamics of surfing. While the argonauts rowed through the Bosporus, a wave arrived from behind the ship and sped the vessel forward like a missile launched from a catapult. Ap. Rhod. Argon. 2.593–95 (Argonautika, 1997, 94). Proper surfing technique avoids the crest for the shoulder. See, e.g., Warshaw, 18–37. 68 Sil. Pun. 3.406–14 (customary swim competition of Nereids); and Luc. Catapl. 18 (Micyllus passing Charon’s boat). 69 Paus. 2(Corinth).35.1 (Description of Greece, 1918, 1:438); and Plut. Mor. Conv. sept. sap. 163a (Moralia, 1928, 2:440). See Larmour.

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The elders should let younger men have their military contests with weapons and spears and horses, their fencing, their ball games, their foot races, and their swimming exercises (natationes).70 In a river swimmers might follow one bank for a distance, cross over and swim back along the other bank. Landmarks along riverbanks were used to chart a zig-zag course that reduced the impact of the current.71 In an open body of water, a bold young swimmer might issue a challenge to a compatriot to see who could swim out farther. The boys of Hippo Diarrhytus competed to see who could reach deeper water first.72 Around 365 CE, when Basil of Caesarea wrote to a learned Christian friend named Julian, he prodded Julian to write back. Basil imagined the busyness of his friend’s life. Impassive when beleaguered by difficulties, Julian was like those individuals who pass by others on the sea. Basil employed the Greek participle parameibomenoi to indicate winners of a contest on the water, but he did not specify whether the contestants were swimming or racing ships. Earlier in that same letter to Julian, Basil had noted that a helmsman cannot calm the sea at will. If he did intend swimming, he supplied a rare reference to such racing.73 The meager evidence for athletes who trained by swimming suggests that it assisted select boxers. In the second half of the second century BCE, Lucilius celebrated a boxer with a battered face who frequented Rome’s civic pool, presumably as part of his training regimen.74 Around 219 CE, Philostratus claimed that Tisander of Naxos trained for boxing through marathon swimming. The remark occurred when Philostratus was attempting to demonstrate that it was the trademark of a hero to train in the wild. Tisander therefore worked out in open water and swam around the headlands of eastern Sicily. His arms carried him great distances, and the repeated strokes in the water conditioned arms and body for boxing matches. Tisander won four boxing gold medals at consecutive Olympic games, and he also won four gold medals at the Pythian Games held every four years at Delphi to honor Apollo. Competing at Delphi may have appealed to Tisander because it was a rare location in Greece with an authentic swimming pool.75

70 71 72 73

Cic. Sen. 16.57–58. See, e.g., Ov. Rem. am. 121–22; and Nonnus Dion. 11.7–31, 45, 407–18. Plin. Ep. 9.33. Basil of Caesarea Ep. 293 to Julian (Letters, 1934, 4:200–01). In book 5 of the Aeneid, Virgil described a ship race as part of funeral games. Verg. Aen. 5.114–285. 74 Lucil. fr. 1211 (Remains of Old Latin, 1938, 3:394–95). 75 Philostr. Gymnasticus 43; and Paus. 6(Elis).13.8. See, e.g., Nicholson, 28–29, 261–72.

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Swimming for Pay

In antiquity capturing turtles was one way to earn a living through swimming. Given the mammoth carapace of some species of sea turtle, particularly the leatherback, the ancients utilized it as roofing material and a personal boat. They either ate the flesh or smoked it as a talisman against incantations and poisons. They ascribed particular healing power to other parts of the animal like its bile and urine. Diodorus Siculus described the methods used by islanders known as Turtle-Eaters (Chelōnophagoi). Modern scholars believe that he referred to an area near the Persian Gulf. Swimming hunters seized their opportunity when the turtles came to the surface to nap in the sun. They would swim out to the resting turtle and approach it from both sides. While those on one side pushed down on the shell, those on the other lifted it up. Once flipped onto its back, the turtle was immobilized. The swimmers prevented the turtle from rolling over and hauled it to land on a rope they fastened to its tail.76 Pliny described similar methods for catching large turtles around the Indian Ocean. Hunters had observed that sea turtles would surface in the morning and float with their backs out of the water. Their relaxed breathing betrayed their unsuspecting attitude. The turtles were oblivious to the fact that their hide dried out under those conditions and made them positively buoyant. Even if they wanted to dive and escape, they could not do so. The sea turtles also had a habit of coming ashore at night to graze. Groggy after gorging themselves, they dozed off on the surface of the water as daylight approached. The giveaway to hunters that the propitious moment had arrived was their loud snoring. The natives swam up in groups of three: two of them turned the turtle over onto its back while the third threw a noose around it. Once lassoed, the turtle was dragged to shore by the rope.77 Competent swimmers might win employment in the spectacles offered by emperors and other elite Romans. Under the emperor Titus, an actor performed Leander’s swim in a way that his feat of endurance, his swimming naked, and his reaching his beloved Hero helped draw crowds to a flooded Colosseum.78 More pragmatically, the Greeks and Romans valued swimming as a foundational skill for free-diving and a survival skill in a military context. Proficiency in swimming served soldiers and sailors and rowers when they had to fight. It likewise became the means by which ancient divers earned their living. 76 Diod. Sic. 3.21.1–5. See, e.g., Kitchell, 186–88. 77 Plin. HN 9.36. See also Hünemörder and Klose, “Tortoise,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. 78 Coleman, 62–63.

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The Profession of Free-Diving: Rationale and Training Other men take pleasure in looking for the sea in the sea itself: they dive beneath the waves and try to visit Nereus and the sea nymphs in their caves. Manilius 5.431–331

∵ Iconographic evidence from Minoan and Mycenaean sites indicates that Bronze Age Greek swimmers earned a living by diving to harvest sponges. Free-diving was a principal way to make the skill of swimming remunerative. Few activities are as accessible to swimmers as free-diving, and few create as many stresses on the body. In the suggestive synopsis of Manilius, divers seek the sea in the sea. To work underwater, free-divers must overcome engrained physiological drives. Humans are not well endowed to suspend respiration. When free-divers hold their breath to descend underwater, bodily defenses activate. Reacting to the build-up of carbon dioxide, the body will first convulse to warn the freediver of a need to start breathing. The spleen then releases a greater quantity of oxygen-rich blood into the bloodstream. Finally, the free-diver may black out as the brain shuts down due to a lack of oxygen. Diving while holding one’s breath represents an assault on the normal equilibrium of the human constitution. Working free-divers expend energy and use up oxygen more quickly. Merely keeping the eyes open accelerates the use of oxygen, which the brain needs to process visual information. As a pure sport, free-diving is second only to base jumping for its inherent dangers. Despite the challenges, ancient swimmers embraced free-diving to earn a living, and they accomplished a lot.2

1 Astronomica, 1977, 334–35: “illis in ponto iucundum est quaerere pontum, / corporaque immergunt undis ipsumque sub antris / Nerea et aequoreas conantur visere Nymphas.” 2 See, e.g., Frost; P. Croce; and Nestor, 1–53.

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Free-Diving as Metaphor

The limited character of a science grounded in theoretical argument and haphazard observation, combined with the inhibited development of technology, meant that ancients divers practiced a pure form of free-diving. Divers utilized almost nothing other than their strength, their training, and their ability to relax underwater. As a model for plunging into the water, they had the example of aquatic fowl. In the Argonautika, Apollonius Rhodius described how the Nereids plummeted into the depths like diving birds. In the Alexandra, Lycophron had Cassandra foresee the Greek villains Ajax and Odysseus wrecking and having to abandon ship. Lycophron compared their forced entry into the water to the diving of a mysterious bird the Greeks called the kērulos, probably the kingfisher. And Ovid, in the Metamorphoses, described how the despondent Aesacus repeatedly tried to kill himself by diving from a cliff into the sea. Instead, the sea-goddess Tethys took pity on Aesacus, covered the forlorn lover with feathers, and denied him the death he sought by turning him into a diving bird (mergus).3 The Leucadian leap became a familiar metaphor for a besotted lover’s suicidal instincts. Lycophron described how the shamed Sirens “self-hurled” from a cliff, extended their wings, and dived into the Tyrrhenian Sea.4 Free-diving earned a place in the similes of Homeric epic and Athenian tragedy. Archaic and classical audiences knew free-diving well enough to appreciate the points of comparison. A diver’s acrobatic entry had visual impact. In the Iliad, Homer utilized diving to portray the headlong fall of a stricken warrior. When Ajax struck Epicles with a rock so massive that it crushed helmet and skull alike, Epicles plummeted like a diver from the high wall on which he stood. In the Odyssey, during the storm that Poseidon unleashed, the powerful winds snapped the stays holding the mast in place, and it fell backwards. The heavy timber hit the helmsman in the head. The crushing blow sent him down, like a diver, from his post on the stern-deck.5 Homer’s simile has the helmsman mirroring the classic entry by a diver from a raised deck at the stern in order to gain momentum for a quick descent. In the Phoenician Women from around 410 BCE, Euripides reprised Homer’s imagery when a messenger described to Jocasta what he had witnessed while watching battle from the walls of Thebes. 3 Ap. Rhod. Argon. 4.966–67; Lycoph. Alex. 387–89, 749–52 (Alexandra, 2015, 202–05, 302–05); and Ov. Met. 11.783–95. See, e.g., Bevan; and Ponganis. 4 Lycoph. Alex. 712–16 (Alexandra, 2015, 292–93). Cf. also Lycoph. Alex. 160–65; and Anac. fr. 376 (94G) in Heph. De poematis 71.9–12. See, e.g., Lindenlauf, 417–23; Holloway; and Beaulieu, 145–61. 5 Hom. Il. 12.383–86; Od. 12.411–14.

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Many Theban soldiers fell headlong from the high walls. Euripides portrayed the plummeting warriors as acrobatic divers.6 When Homer depicted Patroclus mocking Cebriones, the charioteer of Hector, he magnified the comparison. Patroclus hit Cebriones with a stone, causing him to lose his eyeballs and tumble from his chariot. His acrobatic fall reminded the Greek warrior of an agile diver, launching himself from a boat in quest of organisms on the seabed. Scholars have questioned the appropriateness of applying terms for an artistic dive to the backward fall of the eyeless Cebriones from a chariot’s platform not much off the ground. For Robert Rabel, however, the simile constitutes subtle artistry when filtered through the mocking remarks of Patroclus. As a diver often entered a turbulent sea, so the body of Cebriones was enveloped by the chariot’s dust. As a diver often groped around on the bottom in highly limited visibility, so Cebriones stumbled around after losing his sight. The unintended acrobatics of Cebriones on land signal that he would make a good diver at sea. The derisive tone of Patroclus’s comments suggests that divers practiced a less than heroic trade.7 And the reference to gathering sea creatures underwater indicates that Homer was referring to more than the entry. When Athenaeus cited this passage, he did so in the context of collecting edible shellfish and sea squirts. They lived at depths that required a diver to retrieve them.8 In building his similes, Homer utilized two words for a diver: arneutēr and kubistētēr. The term arneutēr in the Iliad indicates a plunging or falling that may be backwards and may include a somersault, but finishes in a head-first entry. It rarely occurs outside the Homeric poems. In the first half of the third century BCE, Herodas introduced the term in a popular mime called “The Dream.” During the rites of Dionysus, competitors for a prize had to jump on the newly flayed skin of a goat and land on its slippery surface. Unlike the awkward losers who fell flat on their backs, more agile contestants alighted headfirst like a skilled tumbler (arneutēr). Around 276 BCE, Aratus used the word to describe how the constellation Cassiopeia, like a diver, plunged headlong into the ocean in pursuit of her daughter Andromeda.9 Homer reserved the term kubistētēr for the tumbling of an acrobat. Euripides preferred that term for his own comparison of soldiers falling from the walls of Thebes. Centuries later, Lycophron had Cassandra note that those on board the burning Greek ships 6 Eur. Phoen. 1141–51. 7 Hom. Il. 16.742–50; and Rabel. 8 Ath. 1.13c–d. Andrew Dalby described the sea squirt as an unusual Mediterranean delicacy, harvested for its interior yellow portion that resembles a scrambled egg; see Dalby, 2003, 296. 9 Herod. Mimes 8 (“The Dream”) (Mimes, 2003, 272–73); and Aratus Phaen. 653–58.

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at Troy leapt like acrobats (kubistētēres) from one place to another in a futile search for refuge.10 Diving found a place in comedy as well. In a fragment from around 437 BCE, the playwright Pherecrates described a woman who had been fortunate enough to view the opulent meals laid out in the kingdom of Hades and was then urged to dive in (kolumban). A papyrus now owned by Duke University conserves a comedic fragment, composed as early as 390 BCE or as late as the Alexandrian era. The text offers instructions on cooking and consuming a large catfish. Its pot had to have ludicrous dimensions, as wide as the great girth of a flute player and as deep as a diver can descend (kolumbētou buthon). Because divers were known to reach considerable depth underwater, the comic writer carried off his hyperbole.11 The writer of Middle Comedy known as Alexis Comicus registered his dismay that the Greeks had fallen in love with perfume. Dipping a stick into an alabastron did not satisfy their craving. In fact, enthusiasts could not get enough perfume even by diving into a swimming-bath full of it (kolumban eis kolumbēthran).12 Writers exploited the fact that the sight of divers underwater was blurred. In the Suppliant Women from around 465 BCE, Aeschylus compared the decisionmaking process of a king to the struggle of a diver to see with the naked eye. A ruler’s responsibilities meant that he had to immerse himself in troubled waters and discern with a penetrating eye a choice that would affect the body politic. Similarly, a diver had to have keen eyesight to discern his quarry once he plunged into turgid waters. Aeschylus implied that seeing underwater was like gazing through a drunken fog. A scholiast to Aeschylus deduced that the tragic writer was referring specifically to sponge divers because they possessed such acute vision.13 The inherent limitations of free-diving helped to illustrate the overly ambitious aims of philosophy. In a dialogue entitled Hermotimus, Lucian (c. 115–90 CE) skewered the overreach of Stoic philosophers. Their goals 10 Lycoph. Alex. 281–306 (Alexandra, 2015, 183–86). See, e.g., James, 29–33; and Beaulieu, 149–50. 11 Pherecrates The Miners fr. 113 (Fragments of Old Comedy, 2011, 2:474–75); and “Comoedia Dukiana” 1146 Pap. Duk. F.1984.7.33–34 (Fragments of Old Comedy, 2011, 3:411, 414–15). See, e.g., Willis, 334–37, 339, 341, 349. 12 Alexis Comicus fr. 301 (Ath. 1.18c) (Poetae Comici Graeci, 1991, 2:186). Plato mocked vain individuals ready to plunge into a well without training in diving; see Pl. Lach. 193c, Prt. 350a. 13 Aesch. Supp. 407–11 (Suppliants, 2009b, 342–45); and Scholia vetera in Suppl. 407–08 (Scholia Graeca in Aeschylum, 1976, 1:73). See, e.g., Tarkow, 6–7. Cicero claimed that, under the water, one could make out nothing at all or see only in a confused way; see Cic. Acad. 2.fr.10 (Non., p. 474).

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were as realistic as traveling up to heaven, flying from Greece to India in a day, or diving deep into the sea off Sicily and coming up at Cyprus.14 The depths that free-divers reached provided another metaphor preserved in a pair of anecdotes that brought together tragedy and philosophy. Diogenes Laertius recorded both. In the version from Ariston of Ceos (third cent. BCE), Euripides gave Socrates a copy of the treatise of Heraclitus entitled On Nature. After examining the work, Socrates joked with Euripides that the part he understood was incredible, so much so that he conjectured that the part he did not understand was also incredible. But one had to be a Delian diver to get to the bottom of it. In a second version from Seleucus Homericus (first cent. CE), a certain Crates first brought the treatise of Heraclitus to Greece. Crates himself observed that one needed to be a Delian diver not to drown in its profundity. Another author named Croton so enjoyed the bon mot that he included it in his book entitled The Diver. The versions agree that the reasoning of Heraclitus, an admirer of the Delphic oracles, should be celebrated for its obscurity.15 Scholars of medieval Byzantium copied the works of most Greek authors read today. Beginning in the ninth century, scholars also lectured on the texts in the schools of higher learning at Constantinople.16 A ninth-century Byzantine mathematician known as Leon the Philosopher helped to re-establish the school in the Magnaura Palace at Constantinople. When commenting on the Conica of Apollonius of Perga (c. 240 BCE), he characterized the subject matter as so profound that it had every need of a Delian diver (kolumbētou Dēliou).17 Leon adapted the proverbial phrase attributed to Socrates or Crates and stipulated that the Delian professional in question was a diver, not a swimmer. To master geometry, one had to dive into the depths (kubistēsei) and investigate every recess. The ancient proverb was familiar enough in medieval Byzantium that Leon felt comfortable transferring it from its original context on the obscurities of Heraclitus to the opaque ideas of Apollonius on conic sections. A century later, Byzantine scholars compiled a combination dictionary and historical encyclopedia known as the Suda. Among its articles, there is one for a Delian diver (Dēliou kolumbētou). As a compendium, the Suda first adduced the reference in Book 9 of Diogenes Laertius, where a book of Heraclitus was characterized as so hard to understand that only a Delian diver 14 15 16 17

Luc. Hermot. 71. See, e.g., van Dijk, 296–301. Diog. Laert. 2.22, 9.11–12. See, e.g., Reynolds and Wilson, 38–69; and Kristeller, 137–50. Anth. Pal. 9.578 (Greek Anthology, 1917, 3:322). See, e.g., Gärtner, “Leon [10],” in BNP, http:// dx.doi.org/.

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would not drown in it. From Book 9 the redactors passed to Book 2 and introduced Socrates. When asked what he thought of the book, Socrates quipped that you needed to be a Delian diver not to drown in it. The Suda interpolated the phrase about drowning from the previous citation and glossed Socrates to mean a Delian diver in reference to those who swim deeply underwater. The entry concluded with a third application of the proverb to those who had extensive experience swimming (nēchesthai). Byzantine scholars saw the logic of linking an ability to swim with the profession of diving.18 Neither Leon nor the editors of the Suda seem bothered by the implication that ancient Delos had a pool of highly skilled divers. In the Adages, Erasmus included the expression “a Delian kolymbētēs.” Erasmus conceded that the Greek noun can refer to a swimmer or a diver but expressed a preference for diver. He found it odd that the general public (vulgus) had interpreted the word to refer to one expert in swimming at the surface (akrov / in summa aqua). For Erasmus, the original context of the proverb indicated a reference to diving, not swimming. Socrates had poked fun at Heraclitus by claiming that one would have to be a Delian diver to plumb the depths of his abstruse thought. Erasmus did entertain a less preferable interpretation whereby a reader would have to be a powerful swimmer not to drown in the profundity of Heraclitus’s ideas.19 Modern commentators have sought to trace the origins of the saying and the reasons for featuring a diver from Delos. Ava Chitwood felt that the wisecrack had its origins in Greek comedy, given its composition in iambic meter, its use of stock characters like Euripides and Socrates, and its attribution to multiple sources. Ultimately, the imagery derived from Heraclitus himself, who argued that one could not plumb the depth of the human soul.20 Ephraim Lytle used the saying as evidence for a sponge-diving industry on the island of Delos. Francesc Casadesús Bordoy has questioned why, beyond the proverb, we have no textual evidence for Delian divers. He believed that Diogenes Laertius was referring to a professional free-diver. The logical counterpart for the enigmatic philosophy of Heraclitus would be the Delphic oracle of Apollo, but a one-liner about a Delphic diver would not work. A diver from a mountainous sanctuary is preposterous. A diver from an island like Delos, where a less renowned oracle was consulted, is plausible.21 Annalisa Marzano introduced the evidence of 18 Suda s.v. Δηλίου κολυμβητοῦ (Suidae lexicon, 1854, 1:269), citing Diog. Laert. 2.22, 9.11–12. 19 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.6.29 (Adages, 1989, 32:24): “Δήλιος κολυμβητής / Delius natator.” 20 Chitwood, 74–79. 21 Lytle, 305–07; and Casadesús Bordoy, www.presocratic.org/pdf/casadesus.pdf.

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vast piles of murex shells found on Delos. The middens suggested that murices were gathered so extensively at Delos, using traps and divers, that the islanders exhausted their supplies.22 Two mythological figures who dived in ways beyond human capacity had an association with Delos. One was the Athenian hero Theseus, and the second was the Anthedonian fisherman Glaucus (Glaukos). Theseus starred in an ode written by Bacchylides for performance by the Keans at a festival on Delos. Most scholars date the ode to the 470s BCE, the period after Athens had defeated the Persians and was attempting to control the Delian League. It was probably performed at the festival in honor of Apollo Delios. The ode concludes with a paean sung by the Athenian youth to memorialize the suprahuman feats of Theseus in diving to the realm of Poseidon and Amphitrite and catching up with the voyaging ship.23 Bacchylides created an alternate account for the more familiar myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. Rather than dramatize the successful escape of Athenian youth alive from the labyrinth on Crete, Bacchylides had the Keans sing of a portent as the Athenian youth were being transported to Crete for their human sacrifice. The diving was heroic: from the raised stern, Theseus traced an arc into the water, plunged dolphin-like and dolphin-aided to the hidden depths, and returned to the speeding vessel. His fellow Athenians were astonished that Theseus had acted so confidently, that he had dived underwater where failure meant death, and that he had reappeared at the ship alive and well and clothed regally. The human fisherman Glaucus had to undergo a transformation in order to become a quasi-divine diver. Glaucus consumed a magic herb, became part fish, and abandoned dry land to live underwater.24 According to Aristotle, the Constitution of Delos commemorated that Glaucus had settled on the island after changing into a merman and attaining divine powers of prophecy.25 The earliest oral traditions and most subsequent literature associated Glaucus with his birthplace of Boeotian Anthedon. For one thousand years, from Aeschylus to Nonnus, ancient authors in a variety of genres added to the lore of the diving fisherman.26 22 Marzano, 157–60, 171. 23 Bacchyl. 17.67–129. See, e.g., Stern; Scodel; Burnett, 28–37; Barringer, 162–66; Danek; Pavlou; and Beaulieu, 69–79. 24 See, e.g., Ov. Met. 13.917–68, 14.1–74. 25 Arist. fr. 490 Rose (Delian Constitution, Ath. 7.296c). 26 They included tragedians (Aesch. Glaucus the Sea God fr. 25d–31, Fragments, 2009a, 26–33; Eur. Or. 360–68); a comic dramatist (Nausicrates Nauklēroi), philosophers (Pl. Resp. 10.611c–d; Arist. Delian Constitution), poets (Pindar, Euanthes Hymn to Glaucus, Aeschrion of Samos Iambs, Callimachus of Cyrene, Theolytus of Methymna Bacchic

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Anthedon is situated on the Gulf of Euboea and set into the foothills of the Messapium (Ktypas) mountain range. The rocky terrain and infertility of the soil meant that the locals could not cultivate grain. They earned their living by selling an inferior wine and the marine creatures they harvested.27 The economy of Anthedon therefore depended mainly on the sea, which led the Anthedonians to claim descent from Glaucus. In the third century BCE, Heraklides Criticus indicated that Anthedonian fishermen used hooks to catch fish, and they also dived to harvest murex and sponges.28 As divine patron to the local fishermen, Glaucus helped resolve the dangers of sailing on the sea or diving beneath it. The historian Mnaseas (third century BCE) characterized Glaucus as having a dual profession, seaman (nautikos) and swimmer-diver (kolumbētēs). In an iamb that probably dates to the fourth century BCE, Aeschrion of Samos claimed that Glaucus fell in love with Hydnē, the daughter of Skyllos (Skylliēs), born in Skione and renowned for his diving (katakolumbētos).29 The Hellenistic poet Hedyle of Attica used the patronymic Scyllis to mean a daughter of Scyllus and transformed Hydnē into Scylla. The Homeric monster became the diver’s daughter.30 Glaucus was a hero to the Anthedonians, particularly their diving fishermen. Glaucus had a sublime ability to dive, inspiring those who practiced his cult. He gained wider appeal because he did things that human nature excludes. He survived underwater, lived without dying, prophesied the future, exercised control over the weather, and navigated in open seas. One text described a minor cult of Glaucus that had spread to the island of Delos. In addition, the Keans performed at Delos an ode to Theseus that celebrated his diving underwater and returning to his ship. The archaeological evidence of murex middens on Delos establishes the presence of fishermen who set traps and dived

27 28 29 30

Songs, Hedyle of Samos and her son Hedylus, Possis of Magnesia Amazonis, Promathidas of Heraclea, Ap. Rhod. Argon. 1.1310–28, Alexander of Aetolia, Quintus Cornificius, Cicero, Virgil, Ov. Met. 13.917–14.74, Stat. Theb. 7.324–27, Silv. 3.2.36–38, Claudian, Nonnus), historians (Mnaseas European History 3, Nic. Europia 3), a grammarian (Nicanor of Cyrene), and geographers (Heraklides Criticus, Strabo, Paus. 9.22.6–7). The elder Philostratus (Imag. 2.15) described a panel-painting of Glaucus. Athenaeus (7.296–97) compiled references to Glaucus. See, e.g., Corsano, 11–36; Scherf, “Glaucus [1] Sea demon,” in BNP, http:// dx.doi.org/; and Rodríguez Somolinos. Plut. Mor. Quaest. Graec. 295e–f; and Ath. 7.296b (Theolytus of Methymna Bacchic Songs). See, e.g., Dalby, 2003, 58. Heraklides Kriticus 1.23–24 (Austin, 2006, 200). See, e.g., Snodgrass, 88–91; and Buckler and Beck, 186–87, 190, 197–98. Ath. 7.296b–c (Mnaseas of Patara European History 3), 7.296e–f (Aeschrion of Samos Iambs). Ath. 7.297b (Hedyle). See, e.g., Lowe.

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for the valuable shellfish. The Delians may have amplified diving activity on the island by combining the search for murex with that for sponges, as the Anthedonians did. But Casadesús Bordoy had a point. What we know about ancient diving on Delos seems slender justification for the ancient proverb. 2

Terminology and Labor Organization

We know less about the way that Greek divers were organized than we do about Romans. The generic Greek word for a diver, κολυμβητής/-τήρ, and the verb for diving or submerging, κολυμβάω, are related to the Greek word κόλυμβος/-βις/-βας, applied to one or more types of bird who dived underwater.31 In commenting on the Acharnians of Aristophanes, Athenaeus noted that the comic playwright used the words for duck (nette) and diving bird (kolumbas) and that the names of those fowl inspired the verbs for swimming (nechesthai) and diving (kolumban). He had a case for the latter but was mistaken about the former.32 When describing Skylliēs as a diver, Herodotus (8.8) used the noun δύτηϛ, related to the verb δύω (to cause to sink, to sink). Iulius Pollux listed an art of diving built from that term (δυτική ).33 Frank Frost argued that we do not know if Greek divers simply free-lanced as independent entrepreneurs, worked for a share of the profits, or formed into a trade association.34 Given the need for a boat and a crew and given the evidence from nineteenth-century Greek practice in sponge diving, they may have operated as cooperatives, pooling their resources, manpower, and profits. In the second or early third century CE, Alciphron composed an imaginary letter for an Attic fisherman named Galenaeus operating out of the harbor of Munychia (Piraeus). Galenaeus described having an avaricious master who took the catch, hoarded the profits, and rummaged through the boat to assure that nothing was being kept from him. When the fishermen one day sent a slave named Hermon with their catch, the despotic master sent him back with orders to produce sponges and sea-silk. Rather than dive for sponges, the terrified Hermon abandoned his fish-trap and compatriots, climbed on a small boat, and disappeared into a crowd of freelancing Rhodian fishermen.

31 Arnott, 106, 243–44 (great crested grebe in Aristotle, little grebe or the slightly larger black-necked grebe in Alexander of Myndus); and Beekes, with van Beek, 1:741. 32 Ath. 9.395e–f (citing Ar. Ach. 875–76). 33 Hdt. 8.8.; and Poll. Onom. 7.139. 34 Frost, 184.

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Alciphron’s final characterization intimates differing labor relationships: the master lost a slave, but the fishermen lost a co-worker.35 The only Latin term for a diver was urinator and, for diving, urinare/-i. To specify divers seeking a specific catch, the Romans would often transliterate the Greek term. Varro explained the etymology of urns (urnae) from the fact that they dive (urinant) into water to draw it out. The verb urinare “means to be plunged into water.”36 The Latin terms are also related to the word urina, ultimately, if not originally, meaning urine. John Peter Oleson has proposed that, during diving, a proven physiological stimulus to produce urine, called diuresis, led the Romans to use urina as the basis for their designation of a diver.37 Physiological research has shown that a difference in pressure between head and lungs when breathing incites a much greater flow of urine. Roman divers were professionals who organized themselves into local trade associations with the encouragement of the imperial government. Divers assisted the operation of the government’s food supply program (annona). They kept port structures functioning, maintained foundations laid underwater, salvaged lost cargoes, and removed blockages from rivers and harbor entrances. Inscriptions from the second and early third centuries CE indicate that there was an association (corpus) at Rome for fishermen and divers working the Tiber River and one at Ostia for divers salvaging cargoes jettisoned, dropped, or wrecked near Rome’s seaport.38 Fishermen using nets on the Tiber could indicate to divers the places that needed dredging or cleaning. The same member could be a fisherman for part of the year and a diver in amenable weather. For greater efficiency at lower cost, fishermen and divers could pool their fleet of riverboats.39 The principal inscription from Rome’s trade association was found in the vicinity of the Tiber port where the association likely had its headquarters. Among the reasons for celebrating one of the directors, Tiberius Claudius Severus, the inscription indicated that he had secured a license giving the boats 35 Alciphron Ep. 1.2 (Galenaeus to Cyrton) (The Letters, 1949, 40–43). See, e.g., Marzano, 163, 167–70. 36 Varro Ling. 5.126 (On the Latin Language, 1938, 1:120–21): “Urnae dictae, quod urinant in aqua haurienda ut urinator. Urinare est mergi in aquam.” Cf. Cic. Acad. 2.fr.10. See, e.g., Scheller, 140–42, 148–49; and Vaan, 644. 37 Oleson, 1976, 24–29. See, e.g., McCally, 253–57. 38 CIL 6:225 (no. 1080), 419–20 (no. 1872), 2878–79 (nos. 29700–02); 14:58 (no. 303), Suppl. 686 (no. 4620). Le Gall, 269n1, set aside CIL 6.29701 for lack of provenance and characterized CIL 6.1080 as a Renaissance forgery because it uses the word primicerius, which is not found in inscriptions until well into the fourth century. 39 See, e.g., Le Gall, 166–83; Oleson, 1976, 22–24; Bruun, 141–42, 161, 180–81, 200; Boscolo, 185–87; and P. Croce, 89–96.

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of the association the right to navigate on the Tiber. A bas-relief depicted the crew rowing those boats. Tiberius himself may be represented as the individual standing on a boat and holding a palm in his right hand for the victory won by obtaining the prized privilege.40 The principal inscription from Ostia was dedicated to a powerful grain merchant and influential city councilor, Publius Aufidius Fortis. It documents that Ostia’s association included only divers.41 All the members of a Roman trade association (collegium) paid dues, gathered for banquets, marked birthdays, elected their own officials, and assured appropriate burial rites for colleagues. They are known to have engaged in work stoppages and rioted due to depressed wages or unfair food prices. Given that agitation, the imperial government regulated their affairs and, when necessary, suppressed their existence. In the case of divers, the older members may also have assured satisfactory training.42 3

Training and Gender

The ancients believed that the choice to become a professional diver was governed by fate. Sometime after 9 CE, the astrologer Manilius wrote a didactic poem to teach the Romans how to forecast their destiny by interpreting a horoscope. Manilius treated those bound for engagement with the sea in a broader discussion of the effects of constellations outside the zodiac and beyond the latitudes of the Mediterranean world, the so-called paranatellonta. The rising of those constellations influenced individuals to work in contexts that the pattern of stars suggested. Manlius moderated his determinism by injecting a hint of playfulness. Those born under Aquarius (Waterman) had skills useful for divining springs, harnessing the flow of water for fountains, and extending the shore into the sea. Those influenced by Pisces (Two Fishes) had a natural affection for the sea that made them proficient for building or navigating ships, fighting naval battles, fishing, and deep diving. Children born under Delphinus (Dolphin), wine-dark like the Mediterranean Sea, will be equally at home on sea and land. Some whose sign was Dolphin will dive beneath the waves. Among constellations outside the zodiac, the rising of Piscis Austrinus (Southern Fish) proved particularly influential on the choice to become a fisherman and diver. Those born under Southern Fish spend their lives along the 40 CIL 6.1872. Further inscriptions from Rome (CIL 29700, 29701, 29702) all celebrate the fact that officers in the association likewise funded endowments for sportulae. 41 CIL 14.303, suppl. 4620. See, e.g., Fasciato, 415–17; Terpstra, 119; and Broekaert, 228–29. 42 See, e.g., Kloppenborg, 17–27; and Herz, “Collegium,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/.

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seashore or riverbank. The divers among them scorn danger to harvest pearl oysters or salvage shipwrecked cargoes.43 Late antique Romans continued to see astrology as a sound way to predict who would be make a good swimmer and earn a living as a diver. Writing around 335 CE, Iulius Firmicus Maternus followed Manilius in looking to the constellation Delphinus. He stated things simply. “Whoever has this star rising will have swimming as a hobby.”44 Firmicus Maternus accentuated the role of fate in the life of professional free-divers and the subaltern status of those divers. He read extensively in Greek sources on astrology, and he promoted astrology as a science of universal value. The alignment of the constellations affected every human accomplishment and determined every human employment.45 Firmicus Maternus listed the constellations that determine the choice of free-diving as a profession and offered a thumbnail characterization of the job’s appeal. He identified six different horoscopes that predict one will earn a living as a diver. In four of the six cases, he used the generic term for divers (urinatores). In two of them, he specified sponge divers or sponge fishermen.46 So, diving for sponges remained a viable way to earn a living, but it did not exhaust the possibilities. There are additional occupations determined by the same conjunction in the heavens. Free-divers on occasion cluster with others who work in and with water: fishermen, gardeners, sewer-cleaners, pump operators, and sailors. In no instance do free-divers emerge in distinguished company. John Peter Oleson characterized them as among the dregs of society.47 That dismal standing is reinforced by the characterization that Firmicus Maternus supplied for the work itself. Those who labor around water exhaust themselves in distasteful repetitive labors that anticipate the minddulling work of the industrial assembly line. The obligations of divers are grueling, abject, and degrading. Sponge divers specifically will find their work wearisome and die at a young age. Diving was not a fated profession, nor was it an instinctive human ability. To master diving, humans needed training and practice. That likely explains why diving in antiquity had association with specific geographic locales. They had developed a method to prepare divers. The Greeks associated quality 43 Manilius 4.259–72 (Aquarius), 4.273–91 (Pisces), 5.423–37 (Delphinus), 5.394–408 (Piscis Austrinus). See, e.g., von Albrecht, 2:972–85; Volk, 104–09, 164–65; and S. J. Green, 33–61. 44 Firm. Mat. Math. 8.15.2 (Ancient Astrology, 1975, 279). 45 Thorndike. 46 Firm. Mat. Math. 3.9.3 (urinatores), 4.13.6–7 (urinatores), 8.15.2 (urinator), 8.29.6 (urinatores), 8.26.9 (piscator qui colligat marinas spongias), 8.30.8 (piscatores legentes spongias). 47 Oleson, 1984, 46–48.

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divers with Delos, Skione, and Anthedon. The transformation of Glaucus from human fisherman to deified merman presented a mythical ideal for local training at Anthedon. There were Greek proverbs about the skill of a Delian diver and the professionalism of a Skionian diver. The Delian diver was conserved in Diogenes Laertius, reworked by the Byzantine scholar Leon the Philosopher, and given its own article in the Suda. The second proverb was cataloged by the Byzantine orator, writer, and churchman, Makarios Chrysokephalos (Macarius Chrysocephalus, c. 1300–82). His Rhodonia is an anthology of aphorisms culled from ancient literary authors and exegetes. It included the phrase “a Skionian diver,” glossed to mean an individual who excelled at his job. His chief source was Herodotus, who had described Skylliēs as both a diver from the city of Skione and the best among all those diving at the time. Where Herodotus used the word dutēs for diver, Makarios preferred the word kolumbai.48 A lonely Greek papyrus from Egypt in the first century BCE referred to the “best diver” (Aristos kolumbētēs), perhaps a professional free-diver who saw himself as the equal of Skylliēs. Scholars classified that papyrus as belonging to memoranda and pilgrims’ votive inscriptions (proskynemata).49 The ancients confronted the challenge of how to make a creature illequipped for the sea temporarily at home in that alien environment.50 There are clues in ancient sources for the formal training of divers. They crafted an art to train candidates for survival in the water. The learner had to practice the rules until he mastered them. By the second half of the second century, Iulius Pollux named a generic art of diving (kolumbētikē / dutikē ) and specific arts of diving for purple shellfish (porphureutikē ) and for sponges (spoggothērikē ).51 In two early dialogues, Laches and Protagoras, Plato ridiculed the foolishness of anyone who dives without mastering the skill involved.52 He was attempting to show that boldness can be an indication of courage, but training contributes to success and reduces the risk of disastrous failure. Technical wisdom included knowing how to shoot an arrow, fight on horseback, and dive underwater. The philosopher elaborated two stark alternatives for diving. Either you submerged in a well or under the sea without training and relied solely on a courage that was foolhardy, or you 48 Makarios Chrysokephalos (Macarius Paroemiographus), Rhodōnia (΄ΡΟΔΩΝΙΑ), in Paroemiogr., 1851, 2:195: “ὁ Σκιωναῖος κολυμβᾷ ἐπὶ τῶν ἐμπειρίαν εἰς πράγματα ἐχόντων.” 49 Preisigke, 1:252 (no. 3747). 50 Philo of Alexandria argued that humans belong on earth and should only make brief forays into the sea. See, e.g., Philo De opificio mundi 51(35).147, Quod Deterius Potiori Insidiari Soleat 151–52. 51 Poll. Onom. 7.139. 52 Pl. Lach. 193c; Pl. Prt. 350a. See, e.g., Hobbs, 91–93, 115–23.

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dived after receiving the training that keeps you alive and allows you to do your job. A knowledgeable diver could unblock a well or salvage shipwrecked cargo and had far greater odds of surviving. Only mad daredevils impulsively risked diving without proper instruction. Divers could and should get formal training, implying that diving was an art (technē). In the Sophist, Plato again suggested that diving had explicit training methods. He divided hunting into a quest for living things and lifeless things. Plato claimed a hunt for the lifeless had little importance except for some species of diving, by which he seemed to mean salvage and pearl diving. Because Plato divided diving into species, he implied that it was an art. His adjective kolumbētikēs should be understood with the noun technēs.53 The younger Seneca was convinced that a human being could train his mind and body to cope with extremely difficult challenges. If we put our mind to the task, get appropriate guidance, and improve our skill-level, we will succeed. Starting from the removal of anger from our souls, Seneca added abstaining from wine and sex, walking a tightrope, and diving to measureless depths. A human being can discipline his spirit to suffer the sea even when he cannot breathe.54 The information on diving in ancient sources supplies a way to evaluate dependable preparation. An adept diver would be capable of salvaging objects in waters as deep as 27 m and diving to even greater depths for marketable sea creatures. He would be comfortable working on the bottom for up to two minutes; elite divers could remain longer. The diver would be familiar with the buoyancy of his own body and use an appropriately heavy diving stone. He would also be able to equalize the pressure on his ears during rapid descents and ascents or endure the pain of a ruptured ear drum. He could withstand the cold temperatures at depth while diving naked. He could work by feel in conditions of blurred vision, having only the light provided by the sun’s rays to assist him. His overall physical conditioning would permit multiple dives on a working day of long hours, and he would eat nothing all day after a light breakfast. His psychological conditioning would allow him to overcome the fear caused by surface waves, bottom currents, stinging animals and vegetation, claustrophobia in poor visibility, and the threat of attack by marine predators. His religious faith supplied reliable protection. Despite the challenges, prior to every descent, the adept diver must, above all, induce a zen-like state of calm. And, before he could start diving, he had to know how to swim. 53 Pl. Soph. 219e–220a (Sophist, 1921, 276). See, e.g., Works of Plato, The Sophist, 1850, 3:108; Plato’s Sophist, 1990, 42; and A Translation of Plato’s Sophist, 2009, 78–79. 54 Sen. Dial. 3–5 (De ira) 2.12.4 (Moral Essays, 1928, 1:194–95): “… et in immensam altitudinem mergi ac sine ulla respirandi vice perpeti maria.”

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Ancient history provides hints that diving was not limited to men alone; mythology offers more, if it is not escapist. Around 609 BCE, the poet Alcman dedicated one of his lyric compositions to “Female Divers” (Kolumbōsai). George Huxley proposed that the Spartan bard used the poem to compare diving maidens to the mythical halcyons that dive off the Laconian coast in search of fish. The weary old poet watched the skilled women with envy and wished that he could become a kingfisher, punning on the Greek name for that bird (alkyōn). He could then join them in their diving.55 Female divers had mythic models in the legendary feats of nymphs and Nereids. Even though he could not swim or dive, Polyphemus planned to dazzle the Nereid Galatea with a soggy bouquet of flowers.56 Statius had the nymph Pholoë flee the “shaggy legs and shameless horns” of lecherous Pan by diving into a spring still dressed in saffron robe. She hid at the bottom among the sea grasses as Pan rued the fact that he had not learned to swim and dive.57 Skylliēs of Skione taught his daughter Hydnē to dive. When discussing her exploits, Pausanias commented that “nly those of the female sex who are pure virgins dive into the sea.” The comment has puzzled commentators. Some wonder if the restriction to virgins reflected a broader norm for female athletic competition in Greece. Others speculate that diving might have comprised a ritual test for virginity, since women stripped naked to swim. Nonetheless, Hydnē joined her father in earning public recognition for their military contribution during the Persian Wars.58 55

For Alcman, see Anacreon, Greek Lyric, 2:336–37, 350–51; Fragments of Old Comedy, 2011, 2:222–23; and Huxley, 26–28. 56 Theoc. Id. 11.54–62; Philoxenus of Cythera fr. 815 (Kyklōps); and Gutzwiller, 63–65, 106–15. Cf. Ov. Met. 13.728–901. 57 Stat. Silv. 2.3.8–38 (Silvae, 2015, 116–17). 58 Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).19.2. See, e.g., Sissa, 86, 117–23.

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Free-Diving to Earn a Living … and while causing terror to fasten upon him, the Ray extends all its body over the wretched man like a roof and prevents him from reaching the surface and breathing. Aelian NA 1.191

∵ Ancient sources cataloged the dangers that professional free-divers confronted. Some featured curious sea creatures, so difficult to identify that it raises the question whether they exist. Aelian spoke of a carnivorous martenfish (galē), just as hostile as its land cousin. It lived among the rocks and ate the eyes from dead bodies.2 Oppian and Aelian added a type of wrasse (iulis) that gathered by the tens of thousands and consumed the blood of sponge divers. Both authors compared the wrasses to flies buzzing around sweating farm workers at harvest time. Aelian traced the Greek name of the wrasse (ioulos) to the word for poison (ios) because wrasses had a mouth full of the venomous substance. He was as wrong about the etymology as he was about the coordinated onslaught of thousands of vampire wrasses.3 Citing Trebius Niger, Pliny claimed that no creature equaled the ferocity of a giant octopus when attacking the shipwrecked and divers. The merciless beast coiled its tentacles around the victim, fixed its suckers to his flesh, and tore the hapless victim to pieces.4 The “ox-”, “cloud-” or “fog-fish” was also terrifying. Divers described the fish as flat-bodied, soft-fleshed, and up to 5 m (11–12 cubits) wide. When the huge fish saw a free-diver descend, it would surreptitiously rise from its hiding place in the silt, swim over the hapless fellow, and cover him like a roof. The fish hovered in that position until the diver suffocated, or it might even pin him under

1 On Animals, 1958, 1:39. 2 Ael. NA 15.11. 3 Oppian Halieutica 2.434–53; Ael. NA 2.44 (On Animals, 1958, 1:142–45); and Ath. 7.304f (Numen.). See, e.g., Bartley, 269–70. 4 Plin. HN 9.91.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_006

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its enveloping mass.5 To rout the hovering ray, divers were said to carry sharp spikes attached to a cord. The defensive weapon makes sense if the cord was a way for the diver to tie it off. He could not launch a spike through the dense water and would have to swim up beneath the fish. Even Pliny was skeptical that such a creature existed and explained the fearsome fish as the darkness caused by clouds and the anxiety that caused a diver.6 The danger of attack by sharks or other carnivorous fish was more realistic. Oppian’s description of a shark tearing a diver to pieces was one reason he considered sponge diving the worst of all occupations.7 Ancient divers found ways to parry the threat. As athletes do today to cut down glare, divers blackened their hands and feet to avoid attracting predators. Pliny stipulated that dogfish (caniculae) go for a diver’s loins, his heels, and any other white body part. When attacked, divers were advised to swim directly at the shark, a sound strategy. On the way up, divers were counseled to deploy a dagger, perhaps the spike mentioned above. As divers neared the boat, they could curl up into a ball. If sharks moved in to attack while divers were exiting, the tenders on board could hurl tridents or make noise while they hustled the diver into the boat. The tridents might not work because a crafty shark often swam under the boat.8 When tenders and sharks engaged in a tug of war for the diver, carnage ensued.9 Multiple authors proposed that the best defense was to dive where a fish called the anthias congregated. Divers called that fish sacred because sharks avoided them. As Aristotle intuited, the divers had matters backwards. That species of fish found places where there were no sharks.10 1

Diving for Sponges

The oldest and most widespread economic activity of free-divers in the Mediterranean was sponge fishing. A natural sponge is the skeleton of an animal that grows in the sea.11 The Greeks had specific terms for a sponge 5 Arist. Hist. an. 540b17 (bous); Plin. HN 9.151 (nubes / nebula); Oppian Halieutica 2.141–66 (bous); and Ael. NA 1.19 (bous thalattios). 6 Plin. HN 9.151 (Natural History, 1940, 3:264).: “… caliginis et pavoris, ut arbitror, opere.” 7 Oppian Halieutica 5.612–13. 8 Plin. HN 9.152–53; and Ael. NA 15.11. 9 Oppian Halieutica 5.665–74. 10 Arist. Hist. an. 620b34–621a2, and Ath. 7.282c (citing Arist. On the Habits of Animals fr. 190). Centuries later, Plutarch (Mor. De soll. an. 981e) still argued that the anthias either repelled sharks or remembered the safe spots. Cf. also Plin. HN 9.153 (plani pisces); and Oppian Halieutica 5.627–33. 11 Arist. Hist. an. 548b1–549a13. See, e.g., Voultsiadou and Vafidis, 113–15; and Stott, 18–39.

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diver (spongotheras / spongokolymnetes / spongotomos / spongeus), while the Romans used the generic term for diver (urinator).12 That suggests that sponge diving remained an economic pursuit of the Aegean. From the Bronze Age, demand for sponges remained strong. Homer mentioned the sponges that Hephaestus used to clean sweat from his face while working at his forge and those that the attendants to Penelope’s suitors used to clean tables.13 Aeschylus mentioned using sponges to erase from papyrus a text or drawing. Artwork shows sponge and strigil hanging ready for use in wrestling-schools. A fragment from Aristophanes suggests that only the wealthy could afford to bring their sponges to the baths. Sponges were used to line head gear, plug chips in pitchers and leaks in ship hulls, and soak up blood during surgery. In the Hellenistic era physicians employed sponges to give measured doses of a liquid, reduce pain by application on the skin after soaking in hot water, stanch bleeding after soaking in oil, and assist in delivering an enema.14 Beginning in the Aegean, sponge divers roamed widely in the Mediterranean in search of the best product. Pliny described known fisheries in Africa, where the sponges were firmer and harder, off Rhodes where the sponges were softer, and promising new beds around the city of Antiphellos (Kaş) in Lycia where the sponges were especially soft.15 Sponges were so valuable and so challenging to obtain that the ancients sought substitutes, whether natural or artificial. Pliny labeled the simple threadlike algae called conferva, particularly common on Alpine streams, a “freshwater sponge.”16 The best sponges grew at challenging depths, and their fishing was rugged work. The diver had a line tied around his mid-section before descending. To speed his descent, he also employed a stone or lead weight, either held in his hand or tied to the same rope. Once on the bottom, he stowed his weight and collected sponges in a net for a minute or more. When the diver needed to surface, he tugged the line, signaling to his companions on the boat to haul him back up. Pliny described the rope as tied “from the shoulders” ( funem illi religatum ab umeris eius trahunt), and he may refer to the loop’s sliding up 12 P. Croce, 59–65; and Marzano, 160–63. 13 Hom. Il. 18.414 (Hephaestus); and Hom. Od. 1.109–13 (attendants). See also Od. 22.437–39, where sponges are used to clean off bloody residue from chairs and tables. 14 Aesch. Ag. 1328–29 (wet sponge blots out drawing); Ar. Anagyrus fr. 59a (Phot.) (the poor use sponges brought to baths by the rich), Anagyrus 59b (Eust.) (Fragments, 2008, 138–39); and Plin. HN 31.123–30 (medicinal qualities of sponges). See, e.g., Bolkestein, 40–41n206. 15 Plin. HN 31.131, 32.151. 16 Plin. HN 27.69 (Natural History, 1956, 7:430–31). Cf. also Strabo (15.1.67) where Nearchus described the Indians trying to stitch wool, hair, and threads into an object as absorbent as a sponge.

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the torso as tenders hauled on it.17 Every effort was made to save time while ascending and descending so that one had more time to work on the bottom. As Pliny and Oppian noted, sponges could not be pulled loose with the hands but had to be cut from their rock perch.18 Divers were equipped with a tool that resembled a small sickle, a net strapped around their waist or neck, and their naked bodies. After sponges were cut from the rock, they bled in a way that threatened to gag the diver. 2

Diving for Other Marine Species

Ancient divers also collected fish, octopus, ocean seaweed, edible mollusks, pearl oysters, red coral, and purple shellfish.19 If the species did not require immediate consumption or conservation, divers who specialized in their collection had an advantage over other fishermen.20 Diving fishermen used their bare hands to catch both sargus (sar / white sea bream) and sciaena (meagre). Clasping a sargus required skill, for schools of the fish pooled the spines running along their backs. Oppian claimed that a diver had to place his hand over the fish’s head and then gently stroke it along the spine. Soothed by the diver’s petting, the fish remained immobile while the diver seized one in each hand.21 His account makes one wonder how an ancient diver could see so well underwater that he could find a school of sar, determine that the fish are actually sar, and pinpoint the location of their heads so as to elude their spiny defenses. Even were the diving fisherman to succeed in all those tasks on a single breath, it still seems improbable that he would catch the fish with his bare hands and not spear them. Given that Oppian probably never dived, he may be the butt of fish tales told by divers he interviewed. The ability of divers to handle fish underwater helped Cleopatra to embarrass Mark Antony. Antony was having no luck catching fish with rod and line and was discomfited to fail in the queen’s presence. He therefore ordered 17 Plin. HN 9.152 (Natural History, 1940, 3:266–67). 18 Plin. HN 31.131; and Oppian Halieutica 5.612–74. 19 For ocean seaweed that sponge divers gathered, see Theophr. Hist. pl. 4.6.4; and Hardy and Totelin, 172–75. For sea oaks and acorns reported by divers, see Theophr. Hist. pl. 4.6.9; and Plin. HN 13.137. Brown seaweed and a red algae with a leaf that resembles that of an oak are still called sea oak. 20 See, in general, Ravara Montebelli; and Marzano, 15–88. 21 Oppian Halieutica 3.29–49, 4.593–634. An anonymous nineteenth-century reader of Oppian proposed that he was referring to the barbel (Barbus barbus), whose dorsal fin had a serrated spine capable of inflicting a severe wound. Anon. “On Angling.”

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diving fishermen on his boat to take a fish previously caught, sneak underwater, and put it on his hook. The intuitive queen saw through Antony’s ruse and decided to have some fun with him. Feigning admiration, she invited a crowd of spectators to come the next day and watch the great Roman fisherman ply his sport. As Antony cast his line, he had a fleet of fishing boats packed with spectators observing his every move. What no one saw, however, was an attendant of Cleopatra dive underwater and fasten to Antony’s line a salted herring from the Black Sea. Anticipating an ovation from the crowd, Antony hauled in his catch. The applause turned to hearty laughter when his salted prize was recognized. Both Antony and Cleopatra had in their retinue trained free-divers to whom they could turn.22 The ancients found the octopus delectable eating after it had been tenderized, and the marine cephalopod brought added benefits as an aphrodisiac. An early Greek epigram known as the Carian fable popularized the nutritional value of the octopus.23 In the dead of winter a Carian fisherman spotted an octopus. The fisherman debated whether he should throw himself naked into the water and risk freezing to death or forego diving for the octopus and risk seeing his children die from starvation. In a poem on gastronomy, Archestratus recommended as particularly appetizing the octopi from Caria, Thasos, and Corcyra (Corfu). Corcyran octopi were likewise renowned for their size.24 Ennius (239–169 BCE) reiterated the quality of those from Corcyra, a regular stopover on the journey from Brundusium (Brindisi) to his home in Ambracia.25 In The Rope (Rudens, c. 201–200 BCE), Plautus employed the image of slamming an octopus on the ground when Gripus threatened to make Trachalio pay if he provoked a fight.26 The comic poet Machon (3rd cent. BCE) disparaged the dithyrambic poet Philoxenus of Cythera for being a glutton for octopus. While visiting Syracuse, Philoxenus bought an octopus almost a meter in length, took it home, tenderized it, and consumed the entire animal except for its head. After he developed a severe case of indigestion, a physician

22 Plut. Vit. Ant. 29.3–4. For the scene in Shakespeare (Antony and Cleopatra 2.5.1–23), see, e.g., Williams, 85–87; and Blits, 33–34, 76–78. 23 Simon. fr. 514 (Simonides, 1991, 3:380–83); Timocreon fr. 734; Aesop’s Fables, “Fable 545 (Perry 425). The Fisherman and the Octopus,” 2002, http://www.mythfolklore.net/ aesopica/oxford/545.htm. See, e.g., van Dijk, 105, 160–62, 165. 24 Ath. 7.318f. 25 Enn. Delikatessen (Hedyphagetica) (Remains of Old Latin, 1935, 1:408–09). See, e.g., Dalby, 2000, 142–43. 26 Plaut. Rud. 1010.

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told him to put his affairs in order. So Philoxenus requested the leftover head of the octopus.27 The Cynic philosopher Diogenes supposedly died when he consumed an octopus raw. The debate on the part the octopus played in Diogenes’ death continued into late antiquity. Emperor Julian censured a contemporary Cynic philosopher, who accused Diogenes of vainglory for eating a raw octopus and paying with his life. Julian wondered how his unnamed antagonist could be so certain that death was all that bad. The authentic person lives in harmony with nature (physis) and not in harmony with the conventions of society (nomos). That contention, however, did open Julian to the question why, if eating raw octopus was in accord with nature, Diogenes had died by doing so. Some argued that Diogenes was conducting a test to see if eating raw foods was harmful. Finally, Julian insinuated that the self-righteous accuser of Diogenes was really a hypocrite. Consistent with his Egyptian origins, that Cynic would eat anything. He gorged himself on pickled food that was not cooked. Moreover, the cynical Cynic knew well that those who live near the sea swallow raw the sea urchins, oysters, and similar creatures they catch. On the one hand, he envied those who consume shellfish raw, and on the other he decried Diogenes for eating raw octopus. Both are animate, and the only difference between them lies in their texture. The shellfish was harder, the octopus softer because it was bloodless. Rather than utilizing a criterion of rawness, the philosopher should rather use a criterion of tastiness. The Cynic’s taste in raw food differed from that of Diogenes. The critic perhaps preferred his raw items with salt and the other condiments of pickling. Diogenes had a taste for octopus in its natural state as it emerged from the Mediterranean in the grasp of a free-diver.28 Authors likely gleaned a good deal of their information on the behavior of octopi from the observations of those who dived to catch them. For Aristotle, octopi reflexively ejected their ink from fear whereas cuttlefish did so from calculation.29 Aristotle contended that an octopus rarely lived for two years, and the creature tended to liquefy as it aged. Aristotle and Pliny characterized octopi as stupid. They simplified for divers the difficulties of finding them in poor visibility by leaving the refuse from their meals piled in front of their lairs. Octopi utilized the trash as bait for small fish, but, with a diver, they got more than they bargained for. Aristotle said that females are so weak after giving 27 Ath. 8.341a–e. On Machon, see, e.g., Cairns, 2000; and LeVen, 137–44. 28 Julian. Or. 6(9).181a, 191b–d (Orations 6–8, 1913, 4–7, 32–35). On the death of Diogenes, see also Luc. Vit. auct. 10; Diog. Laert. 6.76; and Plut. Mor. De esu carnium 995d–e. See, e.g., Billerbeck, 218–20; and D. Krueger, 231–36. 29 Arist. Hist. an. 621b30–32, Part. an. 679a. For cuttlefish, see also Ael. NA 1.34; and Cic. Nat. D. 2.50.127.

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birth that they are easy to nab. There were even reports that, if a diver sprinkled salt inside an octopus’s hiding place, the obliging creature came right out. When feeling playful underwater, octopi were foolish enough to swim right up to a man’s hand.30 Several ancient observers noted the capacity of an octopus to change its color to match the environment.31 Pliny rejected the theory that an octopus, when starving, would eat one of its own arms. An octopus with less than eight arms had fallen prey to the large eel known as the conger. But Pliny agreed with other ancient commentators that an octopus could leave the sea and go out on dry land, as long as the terrain was not slippery.32 A popular Greek epigram featured a fisherman who hurled an octopus from clear water onto land so it would not grab him with its tentacles. Variants of the story had the octopus landing on a hare or the hare’s lair. The fisherman doubled his take when the captured (the octopus) became the captor (of the hare).33 Other octopi freely chose dry land. Aelian told the story of one who crawled onto a rock to warm up in the sun.34 In summertime, octopi were known to climb a tree with ripe fruit and eat their fill. Authors registered the delight of octopi for olives and figs.35 When roaming on land, an octopus could pose a threat to merchants. Aelian heard the account of an enormous octopus at Dicaearchia (Pozzuoli). The creature entered an underground sewer at night, accessed a warehouse, crushed storage amphoras, and gorged itself on salted fish.36 Trebius Niger, lieutenant to Lucius Sallustius Lucullus in southern Spain and publisher of the general’s memoirs, purveyed tales of giant octopi rampaging on land and at sea. At Carteia, attracted by the pungent aroma of steeping fish, one famished monster made its way into uncovered salting tanks and ate its fill. When the owners built a protective wooden stockade around the tanks, the octopus outsmarted them by climbing a tree whose branches extended over the complex.37 In addition to fish and cephalopods, divers in antiquity were called upon to collect mollusks with shells (testacea), some of which were edible. Galen 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

See, e.g., Arist. Hist. an. 622a4–32; Plin. HN 9.85–87; Ath. 7.316a–17f; and Thorpe, 217–29. See, e.g., Arist. Hist. an. 622a9–11; Plin. HN 9.87; Plut. Mor. De soll. an. 978e (citing Pind. and Thgn.). For speculation on the reasons for the change in color, see, e.g., Plut. Mor. Quaest. naturales 916b–f. Plin. HN 9.85–86. Anth. Pal. 9.14, 94, 227. Ael. NA 7.11. See, e.g., S. D. Smith, 4–5, 240–47. Ael. NA 9.45; and Ath. 7.317b–c. Ael. NA 13.6. See, e.g., Terpstra, 89–90. For comparative perspectives, see, e.g., Asplund Ingemark, 145–57. Plin. HN 9.92–93 (recounted with skepticism). See, e.g., Birley, 2005, 95–99. On the enormous size of octopi, cf. Plin. HN 9.8.

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listed whelks, murices, clams, and all varieties of oyster. Oppian listed three ways to collect testaceans: by diving and plucking them off the sand, by diving and pulling them loose from the rocks to which they attached themselves, and by gathering those thrown by waves on the beach or digging for them in the sand at low tide. Philostratus had Apollonius of Tyana report that the mussels, oysters, and other such creatures affixed to rocks off the island of Biblus grew to be ten times larger than their Greek counterparts. Exactly where Biblus was located has generated discussion because the term may be a highly corrupt form of Babace which is, in turn, an alternate reading for Barace.38 The ancients, particularly the Romans, developed a taste for oysters. They were harvested from natural beds and lucrative farms.39 Ancient sources do not mention divers gathering edible oysters. Ancient divers worldwide did harvest pearl oysters. The pearl invited the ancient Mediterranean world to look beyond its traditional horizons. According to Quintus Curtius Rufus, access to pearls was a primary reason for Alexander’s conquest of the Indus River valley.40 The first sure reference to pearls in classical sources dates to the years immediately following the death of Alexander. In a treatise On Stones (De lapidibus), Theophrastus classified pearls (margarites) among the precious stones and traced their origins to an oyster which was comparable to but smaller than the Mediterranean bivalve mollusk called pinna. He specified that prized pearl oysters were found off the coast of India, off an island in the Persian Gulf, and in the Red Sea. The pearls were typically about the size of large fisheyes and were valued for their transparency.41 The Romans had to obtain pearls by trading with caravan merchants or sellers in the ports of the Red Sea, the Yemeni and Malabar coasts, and the island of Sri Lanka (Taprobane). The only locale in the Mediterranean yielding pearl oysters, the area around the Thracian Bosporus, could not compete with the quality and quantity of pearls from the East and not even with the inferior pearls gathered around Britain. Pearling fostered the reputation of the East as 38 Gal. De alimentorum facultatibus 3.33 (Galen on Food and Diet, “On the Powers of Foods,” 2000, 184–85); Oppian Halieutica 5.589–97; and Philostr. V A 3.53. On the corrupt form “Biblus,” see, e.g., Eggermont, 40–41. Philo (De opificio mundi 51.147) adduced those who catch mussels of all types (ostreoi) as one proof that God created humans to handle the watery element of nature. 39 See, e.g., A. C. Andrews; Dalby, 2003, 245–47; and Marzano, 173–97. 40 Curt. 8.5.3. See, e.g., Kunz and Stevenson, 3–12, 285–98; and Donkin, 42–104. 41 Theophr. De lapidibus 35–36 (cited in Ath. 3.93a–b) (De lapidibus, 1965, 71, 112–13). Homer’s “triple-armed earrings” (Il. 14.183, Od. 18.298) were likely not pearls. See, e.g., Kardara; and Higgins, 106, Plate 16-C.

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exotic.42 In the suggestive phrasing of Pliny the Elder, the incessant quest for profit brought India ever closer.43 For Pliny, pearls reflected the decadence of Roman society, dating from Pompey the Great’s two-day triumph in 61 BCE. The Roman general had paraded before admiring throngs thirty-three pearl crowns, a pearl shrine to the Muses, and a portrait of his own head crafted from pearls. It was bad enough, Pliny observed, that Romans eat the fish that come from the sea; now, they have also taken to wearing the pearls and purple gathered at significant cost to divers’ lives.44 Isidorus of Charax and Pliny claimed that pearl divers faced the constant risk of losing fingers. If a diver came upon an oyster with its shell open and reached inside for its pearl, the oyster would snap the shell closed, often amputating individual fingers or the entire hand. When fishing for pearls, the secret to success lay in approaching the oyster along its sides, grasping it underneath one side, and pulling it loose.45 Pliny and Aelian revealed a further secret of the pearl fishermen that reminded them of the behavior of bees. Observation taught that oysters had leaders, who were adept at avoiding capture. If divers focused on the leader and captured him first, the divers made their work much easier. The leaderless oysters would wander aimlessly into their grasp.46 Ignorance about the behavior of oysters underlines how exotic the places were where pearl divers lived. Pearls are covered in the shell by a mantle blocking their removal. Pearl oysters have flat lips that do not sever fingers. And oysters are sedentary. Ancient sources supply sketchy information about the methods that pearl divers used. Those who worked just inside the Persian Gulf between modern Dubai and Qatar used rafts constructed of bamboo reeds to dive to a maximum depth of 36 m (20 fathoms). Those who worked the excellent grounds between India and Sri Lanka were often forced laborers condemned to such fishing for

42 Ael. NA 15.8. 43 Plin. HN 6.101 (Natural History, 1942, 2:414): “… lucroque India admota est.” See, e.g., Sidebotham, 1986, 13–47, 103–04. 44 Plin. HN 9.104–05, 117, 37.12–17. Pliny testified that Lollia Paulina, wife of Memmius Regulus and later Caligula, arrived at a pedestrian engagement party wearing pearls and emeralds valued at forty million sesterces. On the pearl as luxury item, see also Varro Sat. Men. 283; Cic. Verr. 2.4.1 (1); Vitr. De arch. 8.pr.3; Ov. Ars am. 3.129–33; Philo Quod probus omnis liber sit 10(455).65–67; Sen. Ben. 2.12.1–2. For context, see Oliver; Beard, 7–41; and Lao. 45 Plin. HN 9.110; and Isidorus of Charax 20, cited by Ath. 3.94b (Parthiae descriptio, 1965, 1:255; Parthian Stations, 1914, 10–11). 46 Plin. HN 9.111; and Ael. NA 15.8. See, e.g., Karttunen, 1997, 219–20, 245–46.

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their crimes.47 Calm surface conditions facilitated the work. If the sea was choppy, the crew would spread oil on its surface to settle it down. Modern fishermen use a similar method to improve surface visibility, pouring shark oil, at times mixed with sand, to settle the waters.48 The ancient pearl diver had, as equipment, a net bag for his catch and a sharp iron tool to pry oysters loose. Most dives lasted around two minutes maximum. Divers worked as deep as 12.6 m (7 fathoms). In good weather, a single diver could make 12–15 dives a day, in poor weather 3–4 dives. Archaeological evidence from pearl diving in the Persian Gulf is limited to stone weights. At early Neolithic sites, weights were discovered buried in middens of oyster shells. At Ed-Dur from the first centuries of the Common Era, in addition to some forty pearls and luxury trade goods that included Roman glass, archaeologists found a diver’s weight with a lead ring to attach it to a rope. Pierced stones of unknown date from Qatar were too large for fishing nets and too small for anchoring a boat.49 Buyers had to beware; fraudulent pearls were marketed in antiquity. Philostratus described a painting in a villa on the Bay of Naples that included a scene of Cupids collecting apples in baskets. The baskets reflected the sublime workmanship of Hephaestus, who decorated them with emeralds and pearls.50 Philostratus emphasized that those were “true pearls,” implying that fake pearls were purveyed. In a novel entitled Ethiopian Story (Aethiopica), Heliodorus of Emesa recounted a meeting near the Egyptian frontier between the noble Theagenes and an Ethiopian merchant. The Ethiopian produced from a small pouch pearls as large as nuts that were appealingly round and lustrously white. The Red Sea was an active source and corridor for Indo-Mediterranean trade in pearls. Appearance and place of purchase helped to establish authenticity.51 Panegyrists of the late Roman emperors used pearls as proof for the brilliant trappings of court ceremonial. The troops who rebelled at Paris in support of Julian gave him a purple cloak and a diadem studded with jewels and pearls.52 For the fourth consulship of Honorius, Claudian celebrated the way that Honorius had been carried on the shoulders of his troops like a latterday Pharaoh. Claudian depicted the emperor seated on a golden throne and 47 Isidorus of Charax 20, cited by Ath. 3.93d–e. Peripl. M. Rubri 58–59 (Periplus Maris Erythraei, 86–89). Philostratus (V A 3.57) claimed that Indian pearl divers had devised a way to produce pearls outside an oyster. 48 Flégel, 517; and Kalafatas, 117, 124. 49 Carter, 162–69, 201–03. For ethnographical observation of pearl divers in the Persian Gulf and Sri Lanka, see, e.g., D. Wilson; and Steuart, 9–18. 50 Philostr. Imag. 1.6 (Imagines, 1931, 22–23). 51 Heliod. Aeth. 2.30.3. See, e.g., McLaughlin, 70–72; and Schörle. 52 Lib. 12.59.

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dressed in fabrics studded with pearls, emeralds, amethysts, and sapphires.53 The poet Claudian prized pearls and other jewels as symbols of imperial splendor at a time when that splendor was fading fast. In a marriage poem for Emperor Honorius and Maria, daughter of Stilicho, Claudian described a competition among the Nereids to present the best wedding gift. Psamathe offered a diadem encrusted with pearls from the Red Sea.54 In a helpful passage for understanding marine commodities trading, Claudian commended the searcher of uncharted pools of the hot Eastern seas, a free-diver who plundered the very bosom of Tethys, sister of Oceanus and mother by him of all rivers and oceans. Other courageous wayfarers (divers? merchants?) crossed burning sands to obtain coral. Cloth finishers who sewed precious stones on scarlet fabric united the shining glories of Red Sea pearls with the regal dye of Phoenician murex. To enhance the ceremonial even further, China lent its silks and the Hydaspes (Jhelum) River of India lent its jewels.55 A popular anecdote about the pearl featured King Perozes I of Persia (r. 459–84). Procopius added the story to his narrative of the Persian War. In 484, Perozes broke a treaty he had signed with the Hunnic Hephthalites and for a second time invaded their territory. His army rode straight into a trap, a deep ditch that the Hephthalites had camouflaged. As Perozes charged to his death, he cast from his ear an extraordinarily large pearl in the hope that no one would ever find it. The history of that beautiful pearl began with an unusual romance. A large shark became captivated by an oyster who teased the shark by opening its valves to reveal the pearl within. The shark would depart to hunt its next meal and then return as quickly as possible. A fisherman who noticed the odd marine courtship related the news to Perozes. The avaricious king craved the pearl, so he enlisted the fisherman’s aid. The fisherman agreed on the condition that the king promise to raise his children if the shark killed him. When Perozes gave his word, the fisherman watched for the moment when the shark left to eat, swam over to the oyster, and dived to snatch it. Persian Gulf fishermen doubled as pearl divers. The shark sensed the threat and attacked. As the fisherman hurled the oyster on the beach, the shark devoured him. Bystanders retrieved the pearl oyster, conveyed it to the king, and told him of the fisherman’s demise. 53 Claud. 4 Cons. Hon. 565–92, referring to Honorius’s reception in Liguria in late 397 or early 398. See, e.g., Ware, 23–27. 54 Claud. Epithalamium Honori et Mariae 10.166–71 (from 398 CE). When Claudian (3 Cons. Hon. 210–11) closed a panegyric for Honorius, he emphasized precious shells from the Red Sea. 55 Claud. 4 Cons. Hon. 593–610.

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One moral of the story flowed from the resemblance between possessive shark and possessive king: both wanted the pearl oyster all for himself. A tyrannical desire to possess led to blatant injustice. There is also a contrast drawn between the morals of fisherman and king. For the fisherman, earning a living was desirable, but his family was his most precious possession. For the king nothing came before luxury goods. If he could not have the pearl, he wanted no one else to have it. Greed eroded solidarity: Procopius gave no indication that Perozes assisted the family of the fisherman.56 The Byzantine humanist Photius (c. 810–c. 893), patriarch of Constantinople, assembled names, excerpts, and reviews of authors who wrote in Greek from the classical era into Byzantine times. He titled his encyclopedic collection The Library (Bibliotheca). As part of his research, Photius either found or wrote a note (scholion) on various Greek terms for pearls. Greek authors used the word margaritai, but they also employed variations (margaroi, margaridai). Photius specified that margaroi was found in the writings of the rhetor Procopius of Gaza (465–c. 528), while margaridai was utilized in Book 2 of the History of Constantine the Great written in Ionic dialect by the historian Praxagoras (c. 337–400). Other respected authors chose one of the variants. Nonetheless, the more widely used Greek term for pearls was margaritai. Early modern editors of Photius then attempted to attach the scholion to its proper place in his Bibliotheca. The two principal manuscript copies of the work sandwiched the scholion between the entry on Aeschines (cod. 61) and that on Praxagoras Historicus (cod. 62). It was placed there because the scholiast cited the History of Constantine by Praxagoras. The Jesuit Juan de Mariana (1536–1624) prepared for publication a Latin epitome of the Bibliotheca. Conserved in a late sixteenth-century manuscript and a copy of that manuscript from the eighteenth century, the epitome was only recently printed.57 De Mariana attributed the scholion on words for pearls to Phrynichus, whom Photius cited at the end of the entry on Aeschines. In addition to proximity, de Mariana may have reasoned that a note on words for a pearl might well come from a lexicographer like Phrynichus. A fellow Jesuit, Andreas Schott (1552–1629), alerted his readers that he had moved the scholion from its original location in the Greek manuscript and associated it with the entry on Procopius (cod. 63). Early in that entry Photius gave a summary of the incident involving King Perozes that closely followed Procopius. Schott’s philological instincts in this case seem superior to those of de Mariana. Writing in the second century, Phrynichus could not cite the later 56 Procop. De bellis 1.4.14–31 (History of the Wars, 1914, 1:31). See, e.g., Kaldellis, 69–80. 57 de Mariana, 2004.

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texts of Praxagoras and Procopius. Nigel Guy Wilson retained the scholion as a note by Photius on the valuable pearl that Perozes threw away as he fell into the ditch. Given the extraordinary value of the pearl, Schott translated it into Latin as unio rather than margarita. Ancient Greek, as Photius’s note explained, did not distinguish types of pearls; they were all commonly margaritai.58 The trade for pearls stimulated diving in the Mediterranean. Among the products that the Romans traded in India was red coral. The Periplus Maris Erythraei from the second half of the first century CE listed five emporia importing Mediterranean coral.59 Archaeological evidence for Roman trading of coral for pearls has been found during excavations at Mantai on Sri Lanka, an emporium and manufacturing center close to the pearl banks in the Gulf of Mannar. In addition to whole and drilled pearls, the excavators discovered a bead made of coral imported from the Roman Empire. Mediterranean red was the precious coral par excellence in antiquity. Even in modern times, fine pieces of red coral were valued in India at twenty times their weight in gold.60 According to Pliny, coral was as valuable to the Indians as pearls were to the Romans. He cited those who traced the name of coral to the sharp iron tool that was used to cut it loose (Greek keirō). He claimed that it could also be harvested by net and that, once touched by human hands, it petrified.61 The ancients were fascinated by what they perceived to be coral’s changing nature: in the water it was a pliant plant while in the air it became hard as stone. Ovid imagined Perseus setting the head of Medusa on a bed of seaweed, and it transformed the seaweed into hard coral.62 The fact that Athena used Medusa’s head as a shield against her enemies contributed to coral’s reputation as an

58 Phot. Bibl. cod. 63 (Procopius), scholion (Migne, PG, 1860, 103:121–24). De Mariana, Epitome, 2004, 40–42 (Aeschines). Schott, trans., Photii bibliotheca, 1606, 27 (Procopius). The Bibliotheca, 1994, 5, 15, 43–51 (Aeschines, Procopius). One of the three copies of Schott’s edition available for consultation in the HathiTrust database is the one that Schott gave to Mariana. It was later in the possession of Professor Alfredo Adolfo Camús (1817–89) and is now conserved in the library of the Universidad Complutense de Madrid. See the HathiTrust website, https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=ucm.5326811523;view =1up;seq=5. 59 Peripl. M. Rubri 28 (coral imported to Kanê), 39 (Barbarikè), 49 (Barygaza), 56 (Muziris and Nelkynda) (Periplus Maris Erythraei, 66–67, 74–75, 80–81, 84–85, 191). 60 See, e.g., Sidebotham, 1991, 122–30; Carswell, 200–01; and McLaughlin, 153–55. 61 Plin. HN 32.21–22 (Natural History, 1963, 8:478:79). 62 Ov. Met. 4.740–52. See also Ov. Met. 15.413–17; Sext. Emp. Pyr. 119; App. Verg. Ciris 433–40; and Plin. HN 37.164. See, e.g., Tsounis et al., 168: “Red coral is one of the most thoroughly studied gorgonians because it has been of interest to science since the controversies over whether it should be included in the plant or animal kingdom.”

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effective talisman. In addition to warding off bad luck, the skeleton of red coral was manufactured into jewelry and other items. Annalisa Marzano and Gianfranco Purpura have examined the evidence on coral diving and trading in textual sources and archaeological sites.63 In the Mediterranean coral was primarily used for medical recipes, where it was crushed, dissolved in liquid, and ingested as a remedy for dysentery, rheumatism, and menstrual cramping. The powder could also be applied directly as a cure for stings or antidote for poisons.64 What was not used for medicine or jewelry could then be exported to peoples like the Celts to the north or the Indians to the east.65 The fact that red coral almost disappeared from the Mediterranean under the Empire suggests that Indian demand led Roman merchants to send most of their coral to South Asia. Pliny indicated that supplies in his day had become scarce at the places producing the prized red: the Hyères Islands off the coast of Provence, the Aeolian Islands off northeastern Sicily, and Drepana (Trapani) on Sicily’s northwestern corner.66 A vessel excavated at the ancient port of Marseilles and dated to the 6th century BCE had pieces of red coral embedded in the pitch lining of the inner hull. Since the pieces fused to caulking that had softened under the hot Mediterranean sun, the vessel was used to fish for coral in an area that Pliny indicated was still important in the first century CE. A wreck discovered at El Sec (Calvía) off the southwest coast of Mallorca and dated c. 375–350 BCE was carrying red polished coral among other goods of predominantly Greek and Punic provenance. At Motya (Mozia) on the island of San Pantaleo off the western coast of Sicily, a coral fibula carved in the form of a dolphin was found together with other unworked coral branches and discarded murex shells. An inscription set up in Roman times at Magnesia in Lydia spoke of a trade association of those who worked coral or made figurines (korallioplastai). They may have done both.67 Scholars debate whether ancient fishermen harvested coral from banks in shallow and deep water or they over-harvested the shallows and had to turn 63 64

Purpura; and Marzano, 85, 163–67. See, e.g., Celsus, Med. 5.6–8, 5.18.26, 5.28.19c. Grattius (Cynegetica 400–07) ridiculed the use of Maltese red coral to cure a dog of rabies. 65 For the Celts, see, e.g., Reinach. 66 Plin. HN 32.21 (for the places producing prized coral), 32.24 (for its scarcity). 67 The inscription with translation is published on the Associations in the Greco-Roman World website, http://www.philipharland.com/greco-roman-associations/?p=12171. See also Aribas Palau et al.; Harland, ed., 163–64; and Kotarba-Morley. Two late republican or early imperial shipwrecks have been identified in shallow water at Zabargad (Zeberged) near the major Red Sea port of Berenike Troglodytica and in deep water off Quseir alQadim near the port of Myos Hormos.

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to the deep. Free-divers could only collect coral to a limited depth. Spotty evidence for the tools that diving fishermen may have used has been found underwater. A diver operated a sharp iron instrument resembling a knife or shears in order to cut coral from its roosting place. Other iron tools did not require the services of a diver. They included a small rake and net or a simple metal bar suspended from a line. Collecting coral became devastatingly efficient when fishermen invented a dredging tool in the form of an X.68 Archaeologists have recovered pairs of lead bars that are notched to fit together in cross form, though none has a secure tie to coral harvesting. A quadrangular stone was recovered from the Mediterranean that has five holes bored out, one in the center and one at each of the four corners. It could be attached at the crossing point of an X-shaped coral dredge, but it could just as easily have served as the base for a ship’s capstan. That stone and the lead and iron rings associated with it have no secure date nor any link to a context of coral fishing. The distribution of the evidence in space and time suggests that coral fishing did not become a systematic ancient industry. As trade with India flourished, demand may have accelerated the stripping of known coral banks by divers and spurred a search for new ones. The absence of coral within reach of divers stimulated the search for implements to dredge coral from deeper banks. References to pearls in late antiquity outnumber those to red coral. Red coral and pearls were linked as luxury items that free-divers collected. When Ausonius described the crystalline quality of the Moselle River, its colored pebbles on the bottom reminded him of red coral, as well as whitening pearls, visible at low tide along the Scottish coast.69 Claudian described the commodities that contributed to the sumptuous accouterments of Honorius in Liguria. He included red coral that divers retrieved from the sea bottom after crossing Eastern deserts.70 And when Claudian described the competition among the Nereids to produce the prize wedding gift for Honorius and Maria, he had Doto dive for coral, which he described as “a plant as long as it is beneath the water, a jewel once it is brought forth from the waves.”71 Red coral did have a market, although its heyday came later in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. The ancients harvested purple shellfish or murex for consumption and the production of red-purple dye. The used shells could be recycled for building projects, and shell middens testify to the vast numbers needed for dye 68 69 70 71

See, e.g., Galasso. Auson. Mos. 55–74. Claud. 4 Cons. Hon. 584–601. Claud. Epithalamium Honori et Mariae 169–71 (Epithalamium of Honorius and Maria, 1925, 255).

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production. Herodotus described a murex fisherman named Corobius who knew an island called Platea (Bunbah) off the east coast of Libya. He guided a small party of Theraeans to the island, and they became the seed for the colony of Cyrene.72 When Alexander the Great needed crews for the fleet he built at the city of Babylon, he impressed large numbers of murex fishermen from Phoenicia, renowned producers of the dye.73 Treating murex fishermen as a specific category, distinct from the general classification, is confirmed by the inclusion of “taking purple shellfish” (porphyreutikē ) among the marine arts listed by Iulius Pollux.74 The three principal species of murex that supply the purple dye are harvested at depths ranging from less than 1.5 m to 150 m. Murex fishermen usually set baited wicker traps in the shape of a bottle and tied the traps to stone weights.75 Though traps supplied the brunt of the catch, free-divers could reach the depths where two of the three species lived. In a dialogue entitled Toxaris or Friendship, Lucian attested to the existence of divers for purple shellfish. Agathocles of Samos and Deinias of Ephesus, friends from childhood, ended up estranged when the latter wasted his patrimony on carousing and committed a murder. For his crimes Deinias was exiled to the island of Gyarus (Gyara). Agathocles stood by his friend and joined him in exile. He supported them by diving with the purple-fishers and sharing what he earned.76 Pliny twice referred to diving for murex. He contended that free-divers would be foolish to seek the shellfish in waters too deep for setting an anchor, and he emphasized the extreme dangers for miners working underground by declaring that diving for pearls and murex was less hazardous.77 3

Underwater Mining and Salvage

Ancient divers are said to have earned their living in ways other than collecting marine creatures from the seabed. Reports of a copper mine located 3.6 m (2 fathoms) below the surface at Demonesus, an island in the Sea of Marmara, 72 Hdt. 4.151–53 (porphyreos). 73 Arr. Anab. 7.19.4 (porphyreoi). 74 Poll. Onom. 7.139 (Onomasticon, 1967, 90). Ancient sources pointed out that murex fishermen spent so much time at sea that the elements dyed their hair red. See, e.g., Ps. Arist. Pr. 966b25–35 (“porphyreis,” Problems, 2011, 2:424); and Heraklides Kriticus 1.24. 75 Oppian Halieutica 5.598–611. See, e.g., Trotta, 236, 239–40; and Marzano, 143–60. 76 Luc. Toxaris seu Amicitia 18 (“tois porphyreusi sugkatedeuto,” Toxaris or Friendship, 1936, 134). 77 Plin. HN 22.3, 33.70–71.

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seem dubious. The classic text on the underwater mine at Demonesus is included in a compilation of marvels attributed to Aristotle. The copper mined underwater was so highly prized that it was used to make statues at Sicyon for the Temple of Apollo and at Pheneus as an ex-voto of Heracles for his capture of Elis. The difficulty of mining the copper may simply be a way to invest the statue and ex-voto with an aura of the supernatural. The story of an underwater copper mine fits the genre in which it is conserved: an alleged fact that is amazing to the ancient author and amusing to the ancient reader, but difficult for a rational person to accept.78 The Pseudo-Aristotelian collector characterized the copper from the island of Demonesus as copper collected by diving (chalkos kolumbētēs). Other paradoxographers and scholars supplied information on the island or the divers’ copper. Antigonus of Carystus, a Hellenistic gatherer of wondrous tales, muddied the waters by following Theophrastus (c. 370–286 BCE), paraphrasing Callimachus (c. 320/303–245/240 BCE), and claiming that the divers (kolumbētai) collected copper at the Carthaginian island of Delos, not Demonesus.79 Hesychius of Alexandria, who put together a lexicon sometime in the fifth or sixth century CE, argued in his entry for Demonesus that there were actually two islands known by that name – Chalcitis and Pityusa.80 Around 530 CE, Stephanus of Byzantium compiled a lexicon on peoples and their place of residence that had entries for Demonesus and Chalcitis. He claimed that Demonesus had mines for malachite (chrysocolla) and azurite (cyanos), both copper carbonates but of differing hues. Stephanus added that Demonesus also had a mine for a type of gold particularly valuable as a remedy for diseases of the eyes. He misunderstood the author of the Pseudo-Aristotelian Marvels, who argued that the malachite (green copper carbonate) and azurite (blue copper carbonate) sell for prices commensurate with gold because they had medicinal properties that could help alleviate eye problems. Although Stephanus used Pseudo-Aristotle as his key source, he 78

Ps. Arist. Mir. ausc. 834b19–32 (On Marvellous Things Heard, 1936, 260–61): “There is also copper to be dived for in two fathoms of sea (ἔστι δὲ αὐτόθι χαλκὸς κολυμβητὴς ἐν δυοῖν ὀργυιαῖς τῆς θαλάσσης).” See, e.g., P. Croce, 69–71. 79 Antig. Car. 131(146) (Historia mirabilium, 1877, 32–33): “  ̓Εκ δὲ τῆς κατὰ Δημόνησον τὴν Καλχηδονίων τοὺς κολυμβητὰς ἀναφέρειν εἰς δύο ὀργυιὰς χαλκόν, ἐξ οὗ καὶ τοὺς ἐν Φενεῷ τοὺς ὑπό ΄Ηρακλέους ἀνατεθέντας ἀνδριάντας εἰργάσθαι.” Otto Keller followed Jan van Meurs in emending “Delos of the Carthaginians” to “Demonesus of the Chalcedonians” (Historiarum mirabilium collectanea, 1619, 108–09, 178). Theophr. De lapidibus 25 (“Carthage”). See, e.g., Krevans, 120, 124–26; Angelucci, 9–13; and Priestley, 51–108. For the case that the work attributed to Antigonus was put together by Byzantine scholars for Constantine Porphyrogenitus in the tenth century, see, e.g., Musso. 80 See, e.g., Magie, 1:304, 2:1183n7.

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made no reference to copper retrieved by diving. That could be because only an epitome of his work made by Hermolaus survives, or the Byzantine geographer may have found the idea of an underwater mine too marvelous. He may also have moved the mine’s location. His entry for Chalcitis noted briefly in its opening lines that the island was located near Chalcedon and had a copper mine. To situate Chalcitis in the Sea of Marmara, Stephanus cited Book 11 of the Geographies (Geographoumena) of Artemidorus of Ephesus (first cent. BCE).81 Matters remained in that bewildering state until the sixteenth century, when the French natural scientist Pierre Gilles (Petrus Gyllius) took up the question. Gilles lived in Istanbul from 1544–47 and again in 1550 and examined the waters surrounding the city. In his De Bosporo Thracio Libri III, he dedicated a chapter to the island of Chalcitis, which the Greeks of his day called Chalcis. It was located near Antigonia (Nicaea).82 Gilles began by citing the Periplus Bithyniae of Menippus of Pergamum, a geographer of the first century BCE. He adduced a statement by Menippus that the island of Chalcitis lay opposite Chalcedon and had copper mines.83 Gilles then went on to argue that the Chalcitis of Menippus was the same as the Demonesus of Stephanus. The island in question had three essential qualities: it was situated near Chalcedon, had mines of malachite and azurite, and had valuable gold that was an aid to eye maladies. Gilles followed Stephanus in misreading the Aristotelian source. Gilles gave two reasons for identifying the islands of Chalcitis and Demonesus. First, no other island near Chalcedon except Chalcitis had mines. Second, Pseudo-Aristotle gave corresponding details about the island, which Gilles then cited. Gilles did not seem to entertain the possibility that Stephanus of Byzantium used Pseudo-Aristotle as his principal source for Demonesus. The identification of Chalcitis with Demonesus had important ramifications. Although Pliny correctly noted that Demonesus was an island in the Sea of Marmara, the Roman scholar was wrong to say that Demonesus faced Nicomedia (İzmit).84 Gilles had empirically established that there was no island in the Gulf of Nicomedia (Astucenus). A visit to Chalcitis provided 81

Stephanus Byzantinus, Ethnika kat’epitomēn, 1694, 298–99 (Demonesus), 752 (Chalcitis). Ethnica, 2011, 2:34–35 (Demonesus): “Δημόνησος, περὶ Χαλκηδόνα νῆσος, ἀπὸ Δημονήσου τινός. ἔχει δ’ ὁ τόπος κυανοῦ μέταλλον, καὶ χρυσοκόλλης. καὶ χρυσίον εὑρίσκεται τίμιον, ὀφθαλμῶν τε φάρμακόν έστιν. ὁ νησιώτης Δημονήσιος.” In the entry for “Chalcitis,” Stephanus explicitly mentioned copper (chalkos). 82 Gilles, 260–61. 83 Menippus wrote a “Periplus of the Inner Sea” (the Mediterranean-Black Sea system), of which only minor portions survive. Gilles likely used the Epitome of the first book prepared by Marcian before 530 when Stephanus Byzantinus cited it. See, e.g., Gärtner, “Menippus [6],” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. 84 Plin. HN 5.151.

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physical proof that it was the Demonesus of Stephanus. Gilles found evidence in the abandoned mines and the refuse from mining still visible in the sixteenth century. He discovered slag piles with excellent azurite (caeruleus) and loose malachite (chrysocolla). Gilles was convinced that one needed only to dig in the shallows of the bay to find Aristotle’s first-rate gold. By the nineteenth century, Western geographers knew of three small islands opposite Chalcedon: Proté, Chalcitis (Kharkitas), and Pityodes (Prinkipos). Chalcitis and Pityodes were also called Demonēsi and were known for copper. Hesychius had proposed in the fifth or sixth century that Chalicitis and Pityusa both went under the name of Demonesus. John Hawkins took up the subject of submarine mines in an article for the inaugural 1818 issue of the journal of the Royal Geological Society of Cornwall.85 The British were anticipating the possibility of mining the sea floor as their land mines were being rapidly exhausted by the pace of the Industrial Revolution. For Hawkins, that project was far from fantastic: coal mines at Whitehaven had for some time extended under the sea and Thomas Curtis had thirty years earlier attempted to sink a mine in the sea but failed to keep the test dig free of water. Hawkins analyzed the two cases of submarine mining he found in ancient sources. He discovered the first in the description that Pausanias offered of the Siphnian treasury at Delphi.86 The island of Siphnos had productive gold mines, and Apollo, through his oracle, ordered the islanders to pay him a tithe. They paid into the treasury until greed led them to withhold their contribution. That was a costly decision, for the sea soon flooded the Siphnian mines. For Hawkins, the story was readily explained by natural causes. The gold mines on Siphnos were productive, but, as the mining reached deeper levels, the digging yielded less profit. The Siphnian miners instead decided to follow veins of gold that led under the sea, but the sea broke into the mine and ended production. The second case was the Pseudo-Aristotelian account of copper collected by diving. Hawkins noted that Antigonus of Carystus repeated the account but changed Demonesus to Delos, perhaps because Delos, according to Pliny, was famous for works in bronze.87 Hawkins agreed with Hesychius that the islands of Chalcitis and Pityusa were both known as Demonesus. What sealed the deal for Hawkins was the discovery of vestiges of copper mining on the small island just offshore from Chalcedon called Kalki. Hawkins had the testimony of Gilles, who saw scrap heaps of copper, burrowed in, and identified azurite and malchite. Hawkins did realize that Stephanus of Byzantium had misinterpreted 85 Hawkins, 130–36. 86 Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).11.2. 87 Plin. HN 34.9.

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Pseudo-Aristotle to say that the island of many names also produced gold. The mistaken reading of Stephanus misled Gilles a thousand years later. Hawkins also adduced his own eyewitness testimony, based on a visit to Kalki in 1794. He described the island as rising no more than twenty fathoms above sea level. He located a text in Pliny which claimed that copper in the area of Chalcedon was already exhausted in the first century CE. Nonetheless, in 1794, Hawkins found prodigious piles of mining rubbish which had visible green and blue copper oxides mixed in. From the dimensions of the scrap heaps, compared to the minimal rise of the island above sea level, he deduced that the mining operations continued below sea level. Because much of the detritus sat near the shoreline, he also deduced that the mining operations extended under the sea itself. Those realities led to a popular assumption that free-divers mined the copper, and the collectors of marvelous tales saved that conviction for posterity. Hawkins entertained the possibility that copper was discovered near the surface of veins running underwater at Kalki because he had observed such circumstances near Cornwall. It made good sense that the ancients did little mining below the seabed, and not only due to the physical limitations of free-diving. Most ancient mines were located so far from the sea that miners would not follow their veins under the water. Ancient divers engaged in legitimate and piratical salvage. Wreckers practiced salvage piratically by lighting false beacons to lure unsuspecting vessels onto rocks and reefs. Divers would aid in collecting the bounty. The wreckers inspired the myth of Nauplius, who exacted a measure of revenge on Odysseus and the Greeks for the death of his son Palamedes at Troy. Nauplius lured their returning vessels to ruin at Cape Kaphareus (Kavo Doro) at the southeastern tip of Euboea. The Cape was also known as Xylophagos, “timber eater.”88 The pernicious reputation of the Cape’s residents continued for centuries. Dio Chrysostom suggested that it was virtually impossible to explain the wealth of the farmers who lived on the Cape’s rocky terrain, owned slaves, and raised livestock without inferring their participation in criminal wrecking.89 In the second century, the emperors Hadrian (r. 117–38) and Antoninus Pius (r. 138– 61) adopted severe sanctions against wreckers and those who picked wrecks clean, treating them as thieving bandits (latrones).90

88 Eur. Hel. 766–69, 1126–36. Sophocles wrote Nauplius Sails In and Nauplius Lights a Fire. Apollod. Bibl. 2.1.5, Epit. 6.7–11. Lycoph. Alex. 373–86 (Alexandra, 2015, 201–03). See, e.g., Ormerod, 69–72, 77–79. 89 Dio Chrys. Or. 7.30–33, 51–53 (Euboean Discourse, 1932, 302–5, 314–17). 90 Braund, 204–06.

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Entrepreneurs and governments engaged in salvage as well. Livy narrated the precipitous decision of King Perseus of Macedon (r. 179–68 BCE) to order his treasure cast into the sea at Pella so that the Romans could not take it. Regretting that choice, the king sent divers to recover the treasure. Once most of it was salvaged, Perseus had the divers and the messengers who delivered his order eliminated lest his decision for disposal come back to embarrass him. The significant gaps in the assemblage of wine amphoras on the Madrague de Giens shipwreck (c. 70–50 BCE), as well as the presence of large stones suitable for free-diving, suggest that the owner of that shipment recouped some of his losses by hiring salvage divers.91 Roman law discussed jettison and salvage and mentioned the work of salvage divers, originally in the context of shipping to Ostia. Before the emperors built a sheltered port, goods had to be offloaded onto lighters. Roman law treated the case of a ship saved by jettison at sea that later sank in a storm. If divers recovered cargo lost in the sinking, the goods recovered must first be used to offset the losses of the merchant or merchants whose goods were earlier jettisoned. If, however, the divers recovered the cargo jettisoned before the sinking, the owner(s) of that cargo need not give anything to the merchants whose cargo was lost in the subsequent demise of the vessel. In both cases, the law supplied merchants with an incentive to hire salvage divers and made clear that it was licit to recover materials lost in a shipwreck only if the owner sanctioned the work. The law likewise established that fair compensation for a salvage diver’s work would be a portion of the property recovered.92 The astrologer Manilius noted that those fated to become salvage divers searched the sandy bottom to locate booty that wrecks have disgorged. The divers sought to profit, but the objects recovered were not uncommonly their lifeless bodies.93 4

Building Activities (Villas / Ports / Bridges)

Divers found employment on public and private building projects. During the late Republic and early Empire, Sallust derided rich Romans for squandering their wealth to entomb the sea and erect villas over the water.94 Virgil described 91 Perseus salvage: Livy 44.10.1–4. Madrague de Giens wreck salvage: Tchernia. 92 Dig. 14.2.4 (Corpus iuris civilis, 1954, 1:220; The Civil Law, 1932, 4:209–10, http://www .constitution.org/sps/sps04.htm). See, e.g., Le Gall, 252–53; Zamora Manzano; and P. Croce, 79–88. 93 Manilius 5.400–02, 431–35. 94 Sall. Cat. 13.1–2, 20.11; and La congiura di Catilina, 1992, 111–12n1. See also Vell. Pat. 2.33.4.; Sen. Ep. 89.21; and Hor. Carm. 3.1.33–37.

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the massive foundational rocks that men cast crashing into the waters of Baiae. As the vacation playground of Rome’s leisured rich, Baiae had become legendary. Aristocratic villas there did invade the sea, but now the sea has taken much back, to the delight of scuba diving tourists. Remains of the large artificial cases or square piers used to build in water have been found in various locales from Baia to Pozzuoli and testify to the genius of Roman hydraulic concrete, mixed using the volcanic ash from that region.95 Divers likely assisted in building break walls and underwater foundations. They also assisted the Roman government in building artificial harbors at sites like Caesarea Marittima.96 Double-walled wooden caissons were floated out to the site for artificial moles and then submerged. The caissons resembled large, bottomless chests. They were sunk into position on the sea floor, divers leveled off the area inside, workers lowered baskets of concrete and spilled them onto the leveled surface, and long rakes smoothed out the mix. The process had to be repeated until all the water was displaced from the interior of the caisson.97 In 384–85, the prefect of the city of Rome, Quintus Aurelius Symmachus, sent two reports to the imperial court. Officially, he addressed them to the coemperors but practically he entrusted them to the court of Valentinian II at Milan. Symmachus described a legal case involving a crumbling bridge pier. He opened a window into the contribution of free-divers to the public works program and their base social status.98 The case involved two Greek engineers of aristocratic standing, Cyriades and Auxentius. The engineers had leveled charges against each other after a part of the bridge collapsed in the winter of 382. Till then, the bridge below the Aventine, the Pons Probi or Pons Theodosii, had been progressing well and was nearly complete. It had a longer and shorter span in position. However, when the Tiber rose due to autumn rains, the added force of the waters damaged a part of the structure. Work ceased when the builders exhausted the appropriated public funds, and the emperor ordered Anicius Auchenius Bassus to hold an inquest. The results of that first inquest may have been favorable to Auxentius because the emperor then ordered Cyriades to clear his name. Cyriades leveled a charge of negligence against Auxentius, which led to a second formal 95 Verg. Aen. 9.710–16. See, e.g., Di Fraia; Dalby, 2000, 51–54; and Brandon et al., 7–8, 11–12, 23–24, 208–21. 96 Vitr. De arch. 5.12.2–6. 97 See, e.g., Hohlfelder, 57–58. Because salvage diving at Ostia was seasonal work, the government may have employed the divers on construction projects like the artificial harbor of Portus; see Oleson et al., 199–207. 98 Symmachus Relat. 25–26 (Relationes, 1973, 7, 139–47). See, e.g., Vera, 46–47, 78–79, 86–89; and Babić, 255–60.

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inquest. Sallustius Aventius initiated the probe, and Symmachus inherited it. Symmachus tried to have specialists whom he regarded as upright conduct a preliminary investigation, but Cyriades objected to their choice. So Symmachus next summoned a committee of master builders, acceptable to Cyriades but less so to Auxentius. Although still in charge of the project, Auxentius disappeared overnight. Cyriades feared that his rival had set out for Milan to make his case directly to the emperor and insisted that Symmachus communicate the situation in Rome. Symmachus did so in the first of his two reports. After receiving the report, Valentinian named a new supervisor of the work, the senator Aphrodosius, and he ordered Symmachus to continue his inquest. The second report apprised Theodosius of the results. The short, freestanding length of the bridge had collapsed under the impact of the Tiber’s waters. The rest of the built structure was not affected because it was not yet linked to the shorter segment. When Symmachus had that standing portion examined, he learned that there were gaps between the stones of the piers. Cyriades offered a first explanation. It was common practice to fill the gaps later with a binding mortar. At the time that Auxentius became director, he should have taken that step. Instead, he had the gaps plugged with hay and esparto, a dangerous alternative which would not bind the structural elements. Cyriades implied that his rival had acted in that fraudulent way to discredit him. Cyriades produced a record of the work done and called a diver to give testimony. However, the diver testified that these were standard procedures for the portion of bridge piers underwater and no action had been taken to bring Cyriades into disrepute. The contradiction between the claim of Cyriades and the testimony of the diver led the inquest to order that the diver be examined again under torture. The tortured wretch then contradicted his earlier testimony but also confessed his deep-seated fear of Cyriades. After weighing all the testimony, Symmachus determined not to trust what the diver said under torture, accepted the results of his earlier questioning of those who laid the pier foundations, and attached to his report the evidence that Cyriades supplied indicating Auxentius had embezzled appropriated funds. Cyriades closed the affair on a note of optimism. Since the damaged bridge had withstood three winters without further failure, it could be repaired and put into operation. The confusing case whose outcome is unknown offers a glimpse of the social status of those involved in public works projects in late antique Rome. The two Greek engineers, Cyriades and Auxentius, held senatorial rank (comites) and probably had expertise that qualified them to be professional instructors of engineering (mechanicae professores). The reports suggest that the direction of public works was entrusted to men of senatorial standing. The committee that Symmachus appointed and Cyriades accepted had master builders (magistri

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fabrilis artis) whose experience made them trustworthy assessors of the bridge. Further down the laboring ladder, general construction workers (artifices) gave the inquest their best financial estimate for the cost of repairing the bridge. At the bottom stood the free-divers (urinandi artifices) who did the construction work underwater, testified before the inquest about that work, and, in at least one case, endured torture as a part of a judicial proceeding. Romans limited the use of torture to slaves. The fact that the diver was recognized as a master (artifex) may indicate the survival of a trade association in Rome that had existed from at least the second century. As skilled laborers, the divers assisted the building of the bridge pier by guiding the stones into position and filling the gaps between them.99 99

Cuomo, 17–19.

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Military Diving and Swimming: The Open Seas When the fleet of Xerxes was attacked by a violent storm off Mount Pelion, father and daughter completed its destruction by dragging away under the sea the anchors and any other security the triremes had. In return for this deed the Amphictyons dedicated statues of Scyllis and his daughter. Pausanias 10.19.1–21

∵ Skylliēs and his daughter Hydnē were lionized for using their free-diving abilities to contribute to the Greek victory over the Persians. Herodotus first recounted the story, even though he questioned the veracity of some details. Reportedly a Greek from Skione (Chalkidike) forced to serve Xerxes, Skylliēs was able to salvage valuable items from Persian vessels that sank in a sudden storm along the eastern shore of the peninsula of Magnesia.2 Regretting his help to a tyrant, Skylliēs deserted, swam almost fifteen kilometers underwater from Aphetae (Afetes) to Artemisium (Artemisio), and supplied his fellow Greeks crucial intelligence. He told them of the Persian fleet’s disaster, its reduced strength, and its division into two squadrons. Herodotus interjected that he found the tale of the underwater swim implausible and believed that Skylliēs had instead used a boat.3 Later chroniclers like the poet Apollonides (c. 1–50 CE) and the geographer Pausanias (c. 130–c. 180 CE) added other details. Apollonides credited Skylliēs with inventing underwater combat (buthiēn heureto naumachiēn). During the storm Skylliēs slipped below the surface, cut the anchor lines of the Persian ships, and let them wreck on the cliffs. Pausanias agreed that the skilled diver had his change of heart during the storm, not afterwards.4 When the squall broke on the Persian fleet at anchor off Mount Pelion, Skylliēs and Hydnē dived 1 Description of Greece, 1935, 4:470–71. 2 Pritchett. 3 Hdt. 7.188–90 (the destruction of the Persian fleet); and Hdt. 8.8 (Skylliēs’s underwater swim). 4 Anth. Pal. 9.296 (Apollonides “Garland of Philip”).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_007

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underwater and compromised the anchors, causing the war galleys of Xerxes to crash against the rocky coast. The two were even credited with playing a similar role in the Athenian victory at Artemisium. The Amphictyonic Council erected statues of Skylliēs and Hydnē at Delphi to celebrate the heroism of father and daughter and inspire others to emulate it.5 Pliny the Elder credited Androbius with painting the scene of Skylliēs cutting the mooring lines of the Persian fleet.6 Surreptitiously severing anchor lines became a popular guerilla tactic in naval warfare. 1

Free-Diving for Military Purposes

Diving had multiple applications in ancient warfare. At Tyre in 332 BCE, Phoenician divers more than once sabotaged the efforts of Alexander the Great to compel the stronghold to capitulate. As Alexander’s troops pushed a siege mole from the mainland to the island, Phoenician divers, under cover of darkness, undermined its progress. The divers entered the water where Macedonian sentries could not spot them, glided to the structure, located the trees used for the foundation, and attached hooks to branches projecting through the stones. By hauling on lines, the saboteurs removed tree trunks and rubble fill until a portion of the structure gave way.7 When Alexander tried to use his ships to clear away stones laid to block passage into Tyre’s harbor, Phoenician divers cut the anchor cables of Alexander’s ships and set them adrift. The Macedonian general countered by ordering that his crews replace the cable with chain. Alexander may well have employed his own divers in the operation to remove the stone barricade. Arrian said that nooses were thrown around the stones from the siege mole; divers would arrange the nooses in place. Machines then hoisted the stones and dropped them into deep water.8 In 194 CE, divers from Byzantium again cut anchor cables and added an insidious twist. When swimming underwater to the Roman ships, the divers took lines that finished in a sharp spike. Once they had hammered the spike in and cut the anchor cable, their colleagues on shore could reel in the valuable catch. The tactic also gave the impression that Byzantium had preternatural

5 Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).19.1–2. 6 Plin. HN 35.139. See, e.g., Hauvette; Frost, 181; and E. Hall, 256–57, 285–87. 7 Curt. 4.3.9–10. Both Curtius (4.3.6–7) and Diodorus Siculus (17.42.5) recounted an earlier storm that damaged the mole. See, e.g., Kern, 209–17. 8 Arr. Anab. 2.21.4–7. See, e.g., O’Connell, 63; and Murray, 95–100.

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forces on its side. The amazed Romans of Septimius Severus watched as their vessels seemed to sail on their own into captivity.9 Diving underwater supplied cover when delivering rations or messages to compatriots under siege. During the Peloponnesian War, helot divers assisted Spartan hoplites trapped on the island of Sphacteria (Sphaktiría) off Pylos. Promised their freedom in exchange for undertaking the dangerous mission, the helots tied around their bodies a cord attached to a waterproof skin. They filled the skin with poppy seeds mixed with honey and crushed linseed to relieve the hunger and thirst of the Spartan regulars. The tactic worked for a time. Once the Athenians discovered the trick, they posted special lookouts.10 When Roman forces under Scipio Aemilianus laid siege to Numantina (Numancia) in 134–33 BCE, the allies of the Numantines conveyed messages and supplies by using navy divers and fast boats that exploited strong winds and the steady current of the Durius (Duero) River. Scipio countered with timbers, embedded with knives and spear-heads. The impaling timbers were tied to towers on either bank and allowed to drift on the river.11 Troops loyal to Mark Antony besieged those of Octavian in 43 BCE at Mutina (Modena). A relief party first tried to get a message to those trapped in the town by using signal torches in trees. When that failed, they scratched a message onto a sheet of lead and consigned it to a diver. The diver rolled up the sheet, tied it to his wrist, and swam it under the river’s water at night.12 A year later, Marcus Iunius Brutus, one of Caesar’s assassins, laid siege to Xanthus (Kınık) in Lycia. Within a few days, the siege reduced the inhabitants to a desperate state. Brutus guessed that the Xanthians might try to escape by swimming and took measures to stop them. He ordered that nets be strung across the river channel and had bells sewn along their edges. The desperate residents did try to get away by swimming below the river’s surface. They only surfaced to breathe and then quickly submerged. However, when they contacted the nets, the bells gave away their dolphin swimming.13 In a speech to the Emperor Julian to celebrate his consulship of 363, Libanius suggested through a simile that divers continued to conduct covert operations. Libanius commended Julian for quietly slipping his forces to Sirmium two years earlier. He moved the troops by boat on the Danube River, while his adversaries were expecting him to come at the city by the access road on high ground. 9 10 11 12

Cass. Dio 75.12.1–2. Thuc. 4.26.5–9. See, e.g., Rood, 26–39. App. Hisp. 6.91. See, e.g., Jimeno Martínez and Torre Echávarri, 19–24. Cass. Dio 46.36.1–5. See, e.g., Mussati and Righi, 30. Frontin. Str. 3.13.7 less precisely described the messengers as swimming across (tranabant) the Scultenn (Panaro) River. 13 Plut. Vit. Brut. 30.6–7.

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Julian fooled them by choosing a pathless route. Trapped like fish before the net is drawn tight, they accepted Julian’s offer to leave the city without a fight. Libanius claimed that Julian had operated like an underwater diver (hyphydrou kolumbētou), adding an adjective to ensure that readers understood he meant a free-diver and not simply a swimmer.14 Such a diver can hide below the surface of the water and not be seen by enemy scouts on shore. Ancient divers also conducted naval operations in the open. Evidence points to a specialist sailor trained for diving responsibilities. A fragment from a play of Aristophanes entitled Babylonians depicted a diving marine tying a vessel’s stern cable around his waist and swimming it to shore. Staged in 426 BCE during the Peloponnesian War, the comedy seems to have juxtaposed veteran Athenian marines who were occasionally trained to dive on missions to stereotypical new Babylonian recruits who, as coddled Easterners, proved less than adequate trainees as divers or deck-hands.15 In an effort to suggest how poorly the universe functioned, Lucian contrasted a lazy sailor uncommitted to his shipboard responsibilities and yet promoted to officer to a fearless sailor committed to dive or man the yard and sent to pump out the bilge.16 When Statius prayed that the Nereids accompany Maecius Celer on his voyage aboard a Roman grain freighter to Syria, he counted on them to dive and free an enmeshed anchor.17 The ancients recounted stories in which clever sea creatures attached themselves to a ship and halted its progress. Murices sent by Aphrodite fixed themselves in great numbers to a vessel carrying a group of noble boys and a message from the tyrant Periander of Corinth to castrate them. Thereafter, the sea snails were worshiped at the shrine of Aphrodite at Cnidus (Knidos). Divers were pressed into service to get rid of such “ship-holders.” Caligula sent down divers to determine why his quinquereme had its progress arrested while the rest of the fleet continued on. When they brought up a marine creature that resembled a large slug or snail (limax magna), the emperor was indignant that such a small creature had stopped his mighty vessel. The text on Caligula is ambiguous: Pliny may refer to the remora (sucking fish) that resembles a large slug or to the murex which resembles a medium-sized snail. Neither could stop

14 Lib. 12.62–63. See, e.g., Athanassiadi-Fowden, 79–80. 15 Ar. fr. 82 (Harp. 121.3, citing Babylonians) (Fragments, 2008, 152–53): “the marine made a good dive (ἐξκολύμβησ’ οὑπιβάτης) to bring the stern-cable ashore.” See, e.g., Welsh, 142– 45; and Starkey, 501–08. 16 Luc. Iupp. trag. 48. 17 Stat. Silv. 3.2.32 (Silvae, 2015, 172–73).

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a ship. More pertinently, the narrative indicates that Caligula had diving sailors on board the quinquereme, ready to make in-water repairs.18 Divers provided valuable service to ancient navies when they cleared harbors of obstructions or rigged them in place. Athenians divers and improvised machinery helped remove the piles that the Syracusans had driven into the seabed to erect a palisade around their galley anchorage and obstruct its entrance. The Syracusans invented dangerous ships traps by driving some piles deep enough not to be visible. They could only be removed by divers, who were given incentive pay to do the difficult work.19 Gnaeus Pompeius, elder son of Pompey the Great, was reported to have used divers in 48 BCE to help clear the entrance to the harbor of Oricus. According to Cassius Dio, the Caesareans created the blockage by filling hulls with stones and scuttling them. Once the divers had removed the stones, the sunken hulls became more buoyant, and they could be hauled out of the way.20 Two years later, divers helped to fix harbor obstructions in place. The Pompeiian fleet, under the command of Publius Attius Varus, sank anchors across the narrow harbor mouth of Carteia (San Roque). Divers would have assisted the operation by assuring that the anchors were set at the proper height to remain concealed and still do damage.21 2

Swimming for Military Purposes See Table 1 in the Appendices

2.1 Carnage at Sea Naval battles in antiquity engaged large numbers of oared warships in fleet actions at close quarters. If the crew and marines on the ships finished in the water, even if they could swim, they were vulnerable. In describing the naval battle in 49 BCE off Massilia (Marseilles), Lucan made clear that knowing how to swim aided combatants but hardly nullified the risk. Weapons missed their intended targets on opposing ships and instead hit swimmers in the water. A swimmer who spotted a foe would pull him under and drown them both. When the crew of a rammed Massilian galley spied a friendly vessel, they swam to it. Upon reaching their presumptive rescuers, the swimmers grabbed hold 18 Plin. HN 9.80, 32.2–6 (Natural History, 1940, 216–17, 1963, 464–69). See, e.g., Copenhaver, 375–77, 396–98. 19 Thuc. 7.25.5–7. 20 Cass. Dio 42.12.1–3. Caesar (BCiv. 3.39–40) described a single freighter equipped with a tower and moored to a sunken freighter. In both scenarios, divers would prove useful. See, e.g., Gray-Fow, 160; and Pitassi, 170–73. 21 Cass. Dio 43.31.3.

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of the caprail. The crew warned them that the ship could not bear their weight and there was no way to rescue them all. But the desperate men refused to let go. The ship’s crew felt that they had no choice but to lop off the swimmers’ arms. Their compatriots sank back into the water with no hope of survival. Two limbs essential to swimming had been amputated.22 Graphic poetry likewise served Silius Italicus in his fictional account of the Roman siege of Syracuse. He invented a battle between the Carthaginian Himilco and the Roman Corbulo. In a fit of rage, Corbulo recklessly closed on the enemy. His polyreme came within range of a shower of Carthaginian missiles and sank. Corbulo managed to leap onto a makeshift catamaran supporting a Roman siege tower. He clambered to the top of the tower and hurled a torch onto the flagship of Himilco, setting it ablaze. Carthaginian rowers paid a severe price. Silius described a rower named Sciron run through by a ship’s ram and pinned to a ship. A second named Ornytus swam atop smoking benches and roasted to death. Silius compared Ornytus to Ajax when Athena hit him with a lightning bolt and forced him to stem “the rising waves with arms on fire.”23 Ancient navies used warships designed to be propelled by oars. Coordinated maneuvers by fleets and a burst of ramming speed by individual ships dictated the shape of the hull. For oars to operate efficiently they must be mounted at a low angle to the water. Consequently, the galleys had a low freeboard and performed poorly when heeling. The presence of an outrigger made maneuvering complicated. War galleys carried sails as an alternate means of propulsion. In favorable conditions at sea, the galleys performed adequately under sail. In unfavorable conditions, they revealed their character as one of the poorest sailing vessels ever built. When caught with the coast downwind, many wrecked. Because the Persian commander Mardonius lost 300 ships and more than 20,000 men against Mount Athos, Xerxes had a canal dug across the peninsula to avoid disastrous losses there a second time.24 The low freeboard of war galleys meant that they were easily swamped. Ancient accounts suggest that many more ships were lost in storms at sea than in naval battles. During the First Punic War alone, the greatest naval conflict of antiquity, the Romans lost nearly 700 quinqueremes, the overwhelming majority in the open sea. Carthage had more seasoned sailors, but its losses at sea totaled 500 warships.25 Those who served on galleys were expected to know how to swim, but the skill would be of little help when a fleet was hit by a storm in the open 22 23 24 25

Lucan 3.509–762, esp. 3.661–69 (Civil War, 1928, 163). See, e.g., Fratantuono, 116–25. Sil. Pun. 14.353–579, esp. 479–80 (Punica, 1934, 2:307–09). See, e.g., Stocks, 155–60. Hdt. 6.44, 7.22–24; Thuc. 4.109.1–2. Janni, 155–59.

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sea. Because fleets usually navigated in sight of land and commanders preferred to fight in sheltered conditions, knowing how to swim did increase the odds of survival. But the hazards accentuated by the poets were real. During the siege of Syracuse in 413 BCE, the crews whose triremes sank found themselves wounded by enemy arrows or killed by spear thrusts as they tried to swim away.26 In 396 BCE, the Carthaginians under Mago engaged the Syracusans under Leptines off Catana (Catania). The Carthaginians destroyed over 100 ships. Mago had stationed lighter vessels along the shore to massacre any rowers trying to swim to safety. In the spring of 72 BCE, Mithridates suffered severe losses in a storm on the Black Sea. As the crews tried to swim away, they were struck by floating debris or dashed against ships still afloat. While the battered bodies of his men littered the sea, Mithridates was rescued by a speedy oared pirate vessel. The autocrat survived while his subjects were fodder to his ambition.27 In 38 BCE, the Pompeian commander Demochares ambushed the fleet of Octavian near the promontory of Scyllaeum (Squillace). When Octavian chose to anchor his warships in line abreast, Demochares attacked each of Octavian’s ships with two of his own. The battle became a melee, and Octavian’s ships began to crash into each other and the cliff face. Octavian leapt onto the rocks and helped pull out those crew members who swam ashore. The next day a huge storm hit the fleet as its crews were repairing the damage. Those thrown overboard were battered by the waves and floating wreckage. If they tried to swim to shore, they were dashed against the rocky coastline.28 Land forces seeking to escape enemy pursuit and reach ships close to shore fared no better. During the Peloponnesian War, the Athenians and their allies routed the Ambracians at the battle of Olpae (426/425 BCE) on the eastern shore of the Gulf of Ambracia. The Ambracian soldiers fled the battlefield in such haste that Thucydides described their tumbling into ravines and running into ambushes. When the survivors reached the sea, they swam toward the Athenian triremes patrolling the coast. The Ambracians had learned to swim and knew their choosing to do so would prove fatal. They preferred to be slaughtered by the waiting Athenians than to die at the hands of their hated local enemies. The Athenians did not disappoint, butchering the defenseless swimmers in the water.29 When Alexander besieged Tyre, the Tyrians launched fireships against the towers on the causeway he was extending toward the 26 27 28 29

Thuc. 13.6.3. Sall. Hist. fr. 76; Plut. Vit. Luc. 13.2–3 (muoparōna); and App. Mith. 12.78 (skaphos). App. B Civ. 5(17).85–89 (Roman History, Civil Wars, 2020, 6:154–63). Thuc. 3.112.5–8.

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island. As the flames climbed the towers, the Macedonian soldiers manning them were either immolated or forced to leap into the sea. The opponents attempted to take the swimmers alive. To incapacitate them as they reached for help, the Tyrians gouged their hands with sharpened stakes or smashed them with stones. In 168 BCE a battle took place at Pydna, a Greek seaport on the coast of Pieria in Macedonia. The Romans won a victory crucial to the campaign by Lucius Aemilius Paullus to overthrow King Perseus. After the battle, some Macedonians waded into the waters of the Thermaic Gulf. They jettisoned their weapons and raised their arms to surrender to the Romans manning ships. When the Macedonians saw the ships’ boats clustering, they assumed that the Romans were preparing to rescue them and take them prisoner. They pressed deeper into the water, and some of them began to swim. The Romans on the boats massacred everyone they could reach. Those still alive swam back to shore where they were trampled by the elephants of Aemilius Paullus.30 Philip II of Macedon defeated the troops of the Phocian League under Onomarchus at the battle of Crocus Field in 352 BCE. Onomarchus had convinced the Phocian League to continue the Third Sacred War and then plundered the sanctuary at Delphi. He fled the battlefield for the Gulf of Pegasae, where the Athenian commander Chares had brought his ships into the gulf to assist his Phocian allies. Philip descended on the troops of Onomarchus as some stripped off their armor and tried to swim to the Athenian triremes. The Macedonians murdered more than 6,000 unarmed swimmers. The 3,000 Phocians taken alive were later drowned in the traditional punishment for sacrilege.31 Not all adversaries proved pitiless. In 389 BCE, the Lucanian allies of Dionysius I of Syracuse inflicted a heavy defeat on the residents of the Pan-Hellenic colony of Thurii in southern Italy. The vanquished Thurini fled to the sea when they spotted what they assumed were friendly ships from Rhegium, but Dionysius had sent the ships under the command of his brother Leptines to assist his Lucanian confederates. Rather than slaughter the swimmers in the water, Leptines received them on his vessels, ferried them back to land, and persuaded the Lucani to accept a stipulated ransom for each captive.32 When Diodorus Siculus described a brewing conflict between the cities of Aradus and Marathus (Amrīt) around 150 BCE, he illustrated a swimmer’s solidarity with a foe treated fraudulently. The residents of Aradus on 30 Livy 44.42.4–6. 31 Diod. Sic. 16.35.1–6. 32 Diod. Sic. 14.102.1–2.

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the island of Arwad (Er-ruwad) were plotting to take possession of mainland Marathus. Brash young Aradians committed sacrilege by murdering envoys sent from Marathus, and the leadership decided to compound that transgression. Feigning a desire for alliance, the Aradians forged a letter in the name of the ambassadors and added official seals for authentication. The letter promised to send troops to Marathus. If the letter proved convincing and the troops were let in, the city would be theirs. The Aradians, however, did not anticipate the initiative of a sailor sympathetic to Marathus and knowledgeable about local waters. Because his boat had been confiscated, the sailor swam at night across the strait separating the island from the coast. Ancient authors gave differing distances for the swim, from 200 passus (c. 0.296 km) to 8 stadia (c. 1.480 km) to 20 stadia (c. 3.7 km).33 The actual distance was around 3.3 km. The sailor completed the swim and revealed the plot, allowing Marathus to retain its independence.34 3

Organized Rescue

Ancient naval commanders at times made provision to rescue rowers and marines who finished in the water. In 359 BCE, after the trierarch Chabrias was killed in the harbor of Chios, rescue ships picked up the rest of his crew. Prior to his naval engagement with Ptolemy at Salamis (Cyprus) in 306 BCE, Demetrius I Besieger of Cities had cavalry patrol the shores and be ready to assist swimmers from sunken galleys. Immediately after the battle, Demetrius ordered his transport vessels to pick up any survivors still swimming in the sea.35 The Phoenicians and Rhodians had a tradition of seafaring which fostered their appreciation for swimming. During a lengthy siege, Alexander the Great witnessed the benefits swimming yielded for the Phoenicians of Tyre. The sailors on a fire ship sent against the mole Alexander was constructing were able to swim away from the conflagration they had caused. The crews of three Tyrian triremes were able to swim to shore easily after Alexander sank their vessels. And the crews of other rammed ships were not slaughtered because they swam untroubled back into the harbor.36 The descendants of the Phoenicians who settled Carthage shared a sense of swimming’s benefits. 33 34 35 36

Plin. HN 5.78 (200 passus); Diod. Sic. 33.5.6 (8 stadia); and Strabo 16.2.13 (20 stadia). Diod. Sic. 33.5.1–6. Diod. Sic. 20.50.1, 20.52.4. For the battle, see, e.g., Murray, 106–11. Arr. Anab. 2.19.3–4, 2.20.9–10, 2.22.3–5.

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The years immediately after the Peloponnesian War witnessed naval fighting in Magna Graecia. Dionysius I and his brother Leptines launched a combined land-sea attack on the Carthaginian galley harbor of Dascon near Syracuse. Attacking on land, Dionysius managed to set fire to the galleys beached in the harbor. The flames spread from the beached ships to the merchantmen at anchor. Their Carthaginian crews dived into the harbor and were able to swim to land.37 The island of Rhodes developed an oared warship called the trihemiolia that was swift enough to chase down pirate galleys. It also proved effective for rescuing swimmers in battle. Around 306 BCE Antigonus the One-eyed dispatched his son Demetrius Besieger of Cities with an expeditionary force to crush the island’s independence. The Macedonians were angered that Rhodes tried to remain neutral in the war pitting Antigonus against Ptolemy in Egypt. When the city’s survival seemed in peril, the Rhodian admiral Execestus concocted a desperate scheme. From the fastest vessels, Execestus chose the three he deemed most effective and attacked the ships housing enormous siege engines. Skilled rowing allowed the small ships to avoid a barrage from the catapults. Execestus repeatedly rammed the siege engines and managed to sink two of the three. Before he could attack the third, Demetrius had it hauled back to shore. Execestus pressed the battle and paid for his boldness. His own swift ship was surrounded and sunk, and he was wounded and captured. The other two Rhodian galleys survived. Most of the crew from the commander’s ship swam to one of the others.38 A fast Rhodian ship figured in the rescue of the naval officer Dionysodorus during the battle of Chios in 201 BCE. Dionysodorus was a brother of the fleet commander Deinocrates and an ally of King Attalus I of Pergamum. His fleet fought against the forces of King Philip V of Macedon. Dionysodorus ordered his galley to ram an opponent, but the enemy vessel shifted course. The galley of Dionysodorus passed so close to its intended target that its starboard oars were sheared off. Pergamene warships quickly surrounded the handicapped galley, took it out of action, and killed most of its crew. Only Dionysodorus and two others managed to swim to a trihemiolia that came to their rescue. In 47 BCE naval forces in the Roman Civil War met in battle off the tiny island of Tauris (Šcedro) along the Dalmatian coast. The Pompeians were commanded by Marcus Octavius and the Caesareans by Publius Vatinius. Vatinius had only a makeshift fleet comprised of merchant galleys equipped for the occasion with rams. Given that his numbers were too few and his vessels too 37 Diod. Sic. 14.73.1–4. See, e.g., Leake, 327–30. 38 Diod. Sic. 20.88.1–6. See, e.g., Billows, 165–69; and Kern, 237–48.

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light for maneuvers, Vatinius ordered a mass assault. As Vatinius hoped, that turned the battle into a melee. The Caesareans seized every opportunity to leap onto grappled enemy ships. Octavius was wounded and had two ships, one a quadrireme, sunk from under him. He finally took refuge on a ship’s boat, but it foundered when too many swimmers sought refuge on board. Though wounded, the commander managed to swim to a small oared craft (muoparo) belonging to his fleet and take flight overnight.39 The size and speed of ships effected the calculus of the likelihood of their sinking in battle. That became apparent in the final campaign that Octavian waged against Sextus Pompeius in Sicily. In September 36 BCE, the fleet of Sextus Pompeius offered battle at Mylae. Contrasting strategies figured in the narrow victory that Agrippa won for Octavian over the Pompeians under Demochares. Agrippa had bigger and heavier ships, armed with towers to launch missiles and equipped with beaked ramps (“ravens”) and grappling irons to allow boarding. The ships of Demochares were lower and faster, designed for fleet maneuvers and quick strikes. Knowing the vulnerability of his ships, Demochares had boats circulating to pick up swimmers. Demochares got a firsthand lesson in the wisdom of his dispositions when Agrippa bore down on his flagship, struck it near the bow, dislodged the men from its towers, and gashed its hull. As water rushed in, the rowers on the lower level, called thalamioi, found themselves quickly swamped. Those on the upper level, the zygioi, had to break through the decking that covered their rowing benches in order to abandon ship. They fled swimming. Demochares transferred to another of his ships.40 Octavian meanwhile conveyed his troops from the Italian coast to the area of Tauromenium (Taormina) and disposed his fleet to protect them from an attack along the sea flank. In two separate engagements, Sextus Pompeius defeated and dispersed Octavian’s vessels. When night fell after the first engagement, some vessels from Octavian’s fleet had been captured and burned, while others, against orders, set sail back toward the mainland. Sensing a further opportunity, Sextus Pompeius first trailed those ships but then wheeled around to attack Octavian again. The maneuver allowed him to burn several of Octavian’s ships and capture others. When crew members attempted to swim ashore at Tauromenium, Pompeius’s cavalry took them prisoner or slaughtered them on

39 BAlex. 46. 40 App. B Civ. 5(17).106–07 (Roman History, Civil Wars, 2020, 6:188–93). See, e.g., Morrison, with Coates, 149–57 (Mylae and Naulochus).

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the spot. Octavian had failed to dispose boats to rescue the swimmers from an area under enemy control.41 In the decisive battle of Naulochus, Agrippa again counted on the number and height of his ships, their thick bows and towers, and superior marines to win a battle he hoped to fight at close quarters. And Demochares once again counted on his lighter vessels for nimble movement and the daring of his marines to repel boarders. The battle played out according to expectations. Agrippa’s ships were superior after they grappled the ships of Demochares and allowed boarding. The enemy crews, because they were lightly armed and skilled swimmers, jumped off any sinking ship. They swam to a friendly vessel and climbed on board. In the end, missiles from the towers of Agrippa’s ships softened up the ships of Demochares, grappling irons caught hold of them, and boarding parties of marines finished the job. Sextus Pompeius escaped with a few ships to Lesbos and was captured and executed a year later.42 4

Self-Rescue

Rowers on board ancient galleys were a skilled resource vital to the war effort. Their ability to survive and fight another day was crucial. They needed to know how to swim in order to rescue themselves. The crews were aided by the fact that most naval fighting was conducted in proximity to shore. In 429 BCE, the Athenian commander Phormio found his hand forced when his Spartan enemies threatened the Athenian base at Naupactus. Phormio moved his small fleet of twenty ships inside the narrows of the Gulf of Corinth. The Spartans, anticipating Phormio’s move, had their best ships turn away from Naupactus and confront the Athenian fleet. The Spartans cut off nine of the twenty Athenian triremes, forcing their pilots to run them aground. Athenian rowers and marines who did not swim to shore were killed by the pursuing Spartans.43 Late in the Peloponnesian War, in the spring of 406 BCE, the Athenian subordinate Antiochus violated a command of Alcibiades not to engage the Spartans. The Spartan fleet under Lysander inflicted severe losses. Antiochus lost twenty-two ships, but only a few of the crew members were taken captive. The rest swam to safety on shore.44

41 42 43 44

App. B Civ. 5(17).111 (Roman History, Civil Wars, 2020, 6:196–99). Cass. Dio 49.3.4–5. Thuc. 2.90.1–6. Diod. Sic. 13.17.1–4. See, e.g., Kagan, 314–18.

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In 306 BCE, Antigonus the One-eyed led an abortive invasion of Egypt against his rival Ptolemy I. Antigonus decided to leave Gaza for the Nile in late October, a date beyond the dependable season for sailing. An autumn storm hit his fleet of 150 warships and 100 transports west of Gaza at a stretch along the coast where there was no harbor for shelter. The ships had to anchor off Kasios (Casium) and attempt to ride out the storm. In the end, the fleet lost only three quinqueremes, and, despite the stormy conditions, rowers from the sunken galleys managed to swim to shore.45 Soldiers on transports and distinguished generals shared a common need to swim. In 168 BCE, Antenor commanded for King Perseus a Macedonian fleet of forty fast oared warships called lemboi. They were ideal for the sort of ambush he planned. Antenor had learned that Eumenes II was using thirtyfive transports to ferry Galatian horses and their riders through the narrow straits between the island of Chios and Erythrae on the coast of Asia Minor. When Antenor caught Eumenes by surprise, the transports proved no match for warships. The captains nearer shore had the horsemen abandon ship and swim to Erythraean territory. Those nearer Chios raised their sails and ran the ships aground off the island. Leaving the horses on board, the soldiers and crew swam to shore and took refuge in the city. The Macedonians landed a force, which cut down most of the Galatians and returned home with 200 prisoners and twenty prized horses.46 When Sulla brought his army to Rome in 88 BCE, Marius fled the capital and narrowly escaped near Minturnae, a town situated on the Liris River approximately 160 km south of the capital. Marius was spotted by a troop of Sulla’s cavalry as he walked toward them. Fortunately, Marius and his compatriots noticed two merchantmen coasting nearby. They ran as fast as they could, threw themselves into the surf, and swam to the ships. Characterized by Plutarch as old and overweight, Marius needed the assistance of two slaves to make it on board one ship, while his companions swam to the other.47 5

Technological Aids

During the Corinthian War in 389 BCE, the Athenian general Iphicrates utilized swimming infantry to ambush the Spartan troops of Anaxibius near Abydus on the Hellespont. While the unsuspecting Anaxibius led his troops single 45 Diod. Sic. 20.74. See, e.g., Billows, 162–64. 46 Livy 44.28.11–13. See, e.g., Morrison, with Coates, 111–12. 47 Plut. Mar. 37.1–2.

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file through a gorge closed on one side by mountains and on the other by the straits, Iphicrates selected burly soldiers to skirt the edge of the channel and swim around places too precipitous to pass on foot. The soldiers rubbed olive oil on their bodies and drank alcohol to deaden their sensibilities. Emerging in the rear, they attacked the guards watching the gorge and caught the Spartans in a deadly trap.48 The episode reveals a search by the ancients for an antidote to hypothermia. Having the soldiers oil their bodies for insulation might help. However, allowing them to drink alcohol to deaden the pain would be counterproductive. Alcohol causes widening of the blood vessels (vasodilation) and exacerbates the effects of hypothermia. Flotation devices that the ancients used to teach children to swim had ready application for military swimming. Neo-Assyrian reliefs in the palace of Aššurnasirpal II (r. 883–59 BCE) supply early evidence. They depict fighters using inflated animal skins to remain afloat. The one soldier without a float may be in the act of drowning.49 In 73 BCE Mithridates placed the city of Cyzicus under siege. The Roman commander Lucius Lucullus led a relief force and sent messengers ahead to alert the townspeople of his imminent arrival. Getting a message to the city was not easy. The town was situated on a peninsula between two harbors and had only a narrow isthmus connecting it to the coast. Since the Romans could not traverse the land bridge, they devised a complicated float for a swimming messenger. They sewed the message inside two leather skins, inflated both floats, and joined them underneath with two straps. The Romans then laid a board over the floats. A soldier skilled at both navigation and swimming got on the inflated skins and traveled approximately 11 km to the town. Knowing how to steer a boat, he used his suspended legs as a rudder. He slipped past the sentries of Mithridates and delivered the message.50 The episode had a coda in art a half-century later. A poem that Sidonius Apollinaris wrote celebrated the fortified country residence (burgus) of Pontius Leontius near Bordeaux. Sidonius described a swimming scene depicted on a wall painting in the colonnade of that residence: “Here a bold Roman soldier is swimming to land, carrying across the water a scroll all dry despite his dripping body.”51 Sidonius indicated that the swimmer participated in the campaign of Lucullus against Mithridates five hundred years earlier. Lucullus had deputed him to swim a message to the citizens of Cyzicus that Roman forces were on the way to lift the siege. Tacitus and Florus described the messenger 48 49 50 51

Frontin. Str. 1.4.7. See, e.g., Noakes, 13–31. See, e.g., Albenda, 148; and Rollinger, 155–58. Frontin. Str. 3.13.6; and Sall. Hist. 3.25 (37M, 23Mc, 19d, 20k). See also Flor. 3.5 (1.40.15–17). Sid. Apoll. Carm. 22.167–68 (Poems. Letters: Books 1–2, 275). See, e.g., Dewar, 94–97.

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using inflated skins to reach the townspeople. However, neither depicted the messenger holding a scroll out of the water. Frontinus described letters sewn inside two skins before they were inflated in order to keep them dry during the seven-mile swim. The authors depicted the soldier lying on the flotation device and steering it with his feet; his arms seem uninvolved. The only Roman soldier celebrated for keeping documents dry while swimming was surely bold: Julius Caesar at Pharos. The artist contaminated the Cyzicus scene with Caesar’s swimming exploit. A message sewn inside the inflated skins would not be visible to a viewer of the painting. In other instances, infantry turned their shields into a flotation device. The Celtic Tolistobogii who raided Greece from Galatia in 279 BCE had circular shields that they could use as a personal raft.52 In the first century, Julius Leonides of Alexandria wrote an epigram for a Myrtilus. More than praise for Myrtilus, the short poem praised the technology of his doubly protective shield as an asset on land and sea. He fought with the shield on the field of battle and walked away alive. He also swam with its aid after a northwest wind had swamped his ship.53 A note in Florus may explain the workings of the shield. As new arrivals swelled the number of slaves supporting the revolt of Spartacus, the leaders had crude weapons manufactured to equip that force. They made swords by melting down the iron from slave prisons, and they made shields by covering a wicker-work frame with animal hides. Such a shield mimics a coracle on a smaller scale and would likely float.54 The use of a shield as a flotation device points toward the other marine environment in which swimming became a vital survival skill, the freshwater rivers and lakes of Europe, North Africa, and the Levant. 52 Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).20.6–8. 53 Anth. Pal. 9.42 (Greek Anthology, 1917, 3:24–25). 54 Flor. 3.20 (2.8.6–7).

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From the Open Seas to Rivers and Lakes And have we not these great rivers, at which we can parcel out whatever number of you we would choose to fight with – some, in fact, which you could not cross at all unless we carried you over? Xenophon An. 2.5.18–191

∵ Generals of ancient armies had to contend constantly with geography. Rivers inhibited the swift movement of the attacking forces and provided numerous lines of defense.2 Harry Sidebottom argued that the way that the ancients conceived the geography of their world enhanced the importance of rivers and the sea. They had no accurate topographical maps and did not determine strategy in terms of blocks of territory. They looked upon their world in a linear way, focusing on the coastline, the rivers, and the mountain ranges. Conquering places took a back seat to conquering peoples. One followed or crossed the lines of the landscape to reach the objective.3 Xenophon conceded in the Anabasis that negotiating rivers challenged the 10,000 mercenaries. Pierre Briant has argued that, “both in the Greek imagination and in their actual experiences, rivers represented the obstacles that led to fear never being able to return to the sea.”4 And without reaching the sea, they could not get back home. The Spartan leader Clearchus admitted as much in a conversation with the Achaemenid Persian commander Tissaphernes. Clearchus noted a contrast between the Persians, who had the capacity to cross every river, and the Greeks, who found every river difficult to cross without Persian assistance. Tissaphernes replied in a way that hardly seemed calculated to put Clearchus at ease. The rivers of the vast Persian kingdom were so numerous that Persians felt confident to fight any opponent along their banks. Without Persians to guide the Greeks, they could 1 2 3 4

Anabasis, 1998, 187–89. See, e.g., Keegan, 67–73, 142–43. Sidebottom, 68–69. Briant, 373. See also Hornell.

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never make it across the rivers. That problem was especially pronounced in Babylon, laced by rivers and irrigation canals that thwarted access to its principal cities. In practice rivers were not insurmountable obstacles. The Greek mercenaries waded across some at fords, and they negotiated deeper crossings by collecting boats or using animal skins. The Greeks rarely swam unassisted. That seems odd. They trained rowers and sailors for swimming at sea, but they did not supply their land forces with similar training. 1

Greek Mercenaries in Persia

Textual evidence suggests that rivers regularly tested the Greeks fighting for Cyrus the Younger. In March 401 BCE, the mercenary soldiers used the animal skins they carried as tent covers to put together rafts that would ferry them across the Euphrates River. The leather may have been treated to make it water resistant. The soldiers filled the skins with dry hay, drew the edges together, and sewed them tight so that water did not seep in. That still does not sound all that safe. The idea for such devices may have come from observing local customs. A little later in the narrative, Xenophon watched as the Persians recrossed the Tigris River after they had obtained provisions like bread, cheese, and wine at a settlement called Canae. They transported the supplies on rafts made of skins.5 Stuffed or inflated skins had multiple applications. On the retreat toward the sea, the Greeks found their path blocked by high mountains on one side and a river so deep that, when they plumbed its depth, their spears did not reach the surface. They could not wade across, and they did not consider swimming across. An entrepreneurial Rhodian proposed a solution. If the Greeks paid him a Talent for his expertise and supplied him with 2,000 animal skins, he assured them that he could use the skins and other paraphernalia to build a pontoon bridge. The generals consulted, confessed that they found the idea ingenious, but decided that the presence of enemy cavalry on the opposite bank made it unfeasible.6 The retreating Greeks confronted an analogous dilemma in the hilly country of the upper Tigris River. The Carduchi inhabited the region, and they were skilled fighters with bows and catapults. The Greek soldiers and their baggage train had to cross the Centrites (Zirmas / Zarm) River, where the water was more than chest deep and the bottom littered with slippery rocks. Facing a potential barrage of missiles, the Greeks debated whether to employ their 5 Xen. An. 1.5.10, 2.4.28. 6 Xen. An. 3.5.7–12.

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shields. If they carried the shields in a normal defensive position, the river’s current would sweep them away. And if they carried the shields on their heads, the Carduchi could hit their vulnerable torsos with arrows and missiles. The Greeks seemed to have no way across. However, the next morning at breakfast, Xenophon got good news. Two of his soldiers informed him that they had been gathering brushwood downstream from the camp. As they did, they were struck by the fact that an old man, a woman, and a little girl were putting what seemed to be bags of clothing in a cave at a point along the river’s course blocked by rocks and inaccessible to cavalry. The soldiers inferred that they had stumbled on a safe place to swim in the river. They stripped naked, keeping only their daggers for defense. As they set out, they realized to their delight that the water was only waist deep. The text does suggest that the two were confident enough in their swimming ability to attempt the crossing. Xenophon sent a contingent of troops to exploit the no longer secret ford.7 2

A Contrast: Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar

2.1 The Idiosyncrasy of Alexander and His Troops A half century after Xenophon’s long march, the politics of Greece focused on the growth of the Macedonian monarchy under Philip II and his son Alexander. In 355/54 BCE, Philip set about conquering the city of Methone. The official court version of the story, preserved by the historian Theopompus of Cyprus, had Philip shot by a sniper with an arrow while he was inspecting his siege engines. The arrow ricocheted off his helmet and glanced his face, blinding the king in his right eye. When Plutarch refashioned the story at the end of the first century CE, he used Callisthenes as a supplemental source and drew a parallel between Philip and the Roman hero, Horatius Cocles. Both suffered a similar wound, both were hit while battling at a river, and both displayed their heroism by swimming to safety after they were struck. As Philip attempted to force his way across the Sandanus (Sardon) River, an archer named Aster hit him in the eye with a personally inscribed arrow: “Aster to Philip sends his deadly shaft.”8 Despite the grave wound, Philip managed to swim back to his friends. It is not clear whether Philip assured that his son Alexander learn to swim. Greek and Latin authors furnish conflicting versions of a supposed swim of

7 Xen. An. 4.3.6–12 (Anabasis, 1998, 317). See, e.g., Prevas, 129–38. 8 Plut. Mor. Parallela Graeca et Romana 307d–e (Moralia, 1936, 4:270–71). See, e.g., Swift Riginos, 106–14.

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Alexander in the Cydnus River (333 BCE).9 The accounts differ on Alexander’s state of health when he reached the river, they use distinct terms for his activity in the water, and they give different reasons for Alexander’s choosing to go in. For example, while some authors concur that Alexander was already ill from the forced march, others indicate that he became ill because he went into the river. The authors gave varying symptoms for the illness that came upon him in the water: sudden chill and near-fainting (Curtius Rufus), temporary paralysis (Justin), or a fever (Arrian, Lucian). Arrian noted a discrepancy in his sources. While some indicated that Alexander became ill because he dived into the icy river, Aristobulus claimed that he reached the river exhausted, so he rested rather than go in.10 The vocabulary employed by the authors who describe Alexander going into the river also varies. Some use language that indicates Alexander was bathing, others that he was swimming. Curtius Rufus described Alexander bathing: he went down into the river (descendit in flumen), he did so to wash his body (corpus ablueret), and he barely went in (vix ingressi). Plutarch likewise depicted Alexander taking a bath (lousamenōi). The Vulgate tradition cited by Arrian, however, had Alexander dive into the Cydnus and go for a swim (nēxasthai). Justin emphasized the entry, describing Alexander throwing his arms out front (proiectis armis) as he threw himself into the water (in undam se proiecit). Perhaps harmonizing the traditions, Lucian spoke of Alexander taking the plunge (loutrou), bathing (lousasthai), and swimming (nēxasthai). The last term matches the vocabulary of the Vulgate tradition preserved in Arrian. A soldier on campaign might combine bathing with swimming, provided that he knew how to swim. Therein lies the rub. The authors who have Alexander entering the Cydnus explained why he made a choice that adversely affected his health. Curtius Rufus, Justin, and the Vulgate tradition in Arrian emphasized Alexander’s physical state as critical to his decision. He was sweating, covered with dust, and miserable due to the heat. Alexander decided to show his troops the way in washing off dust and 9 Curt. 3.5.1–4 (mid-first cent. CE drawing upon the Vulgate tradition and probably dependent on Cleitarchus); Just. Epit. 11.8.3–9 (c. 400 CE and drawing upon the Vulgate authors and probably Cleitarchus again); Plut. Vit. Alex. 19 (first quarter of second century and drawing upon a variety of sources); Arr. Anab. 2.4.7 (after 138 CE and drawing upon Aristobulus and another of the Vulgate writers); and Luc. Domus 1 (brief mention in second half of second century CE, showing familiarity with Curtius Rufus and Arrian). See, e.g., N. G. L. Hammond, 1983, 40–42, 97–98, 160–69; and Badian, “Alexander Historians,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. 10 Diodorus Siculus (17.31.4–6) said nothing about a swim in the river and portrayed Alexander as gravely ill and suffering from severe pain.

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sweat. Lucian and Justin emphasized the attractiveness of the Cydnus with its clear waters, cooling temperature in summer’s heat, and a current that was not overly swift. The Vulgate tradition adduced by Arrian filled out that picture. The Cydnus was fed by springs on Mount Taurus and then flowed for a time through open country. The illness Alexander suffered did not have to be the direct result of his going into the river. Fatigue or heat exhaustion, suggested by the detail that Alexander reached the Cydnus sweating profusely, can cause a fever. The earliest surviving account from Curtius Rufus and based upon the Vulgate tradition has Alexander simply bathing in the river. Among the accounts, the symptoms of the illness incurred by entering the icy waters vary from near fainting (perhaps still the result of his fatigue from the march) to fever to cramping to paralysis. None of the sources mentions shivering, a logical first physical reaction to spending time bathing or swimming in water so cold that it would cause mild or severe hypothermia. The other signs of hypothermia are not mentioned: lack of coordination, slurred speech, confusion, or drowsiness. The editorializing of Curtius Rufus and Lucian enhance Alexander’s heroic character. As much as a remedy for his own discomfort, Alexander wished to give his troops an example of a commander satisfied with a straightforward way to wash off dusty sweat from a sustained march. Aware of the risks, Alexander would still lead the way. Other textual evidence supports the inference that Alexander did not know how to swim. If he went into the Cydnus, it was to bathe. Plutarch was one source who described Alexander going into the Cydnus only to wash off. He presented further evidence that Alexander could not swim in his account of the campaign in India. In 327 BCE, the Macedonian forces halted at Nysa because there was a deep river fronting the citadel. Alexander decried his condition as the most miserable of human beings because he had not learned how to swim (nein).11 Later in the same campaign, Alexander ferried his army down the Hydaspes River to its junction with the Acesines and then on to the Indus. Whenever the fleet reached a confluence, it had to contend with rapids. The helmsmen struggled to maintain control in the roiling waters, causing vessels to crash into each other. At the Acesines, two ships sank, others ran aground, and Alexander’s flagship was swept into a cataract. Diodorus Siculus and Curtius Rufus conserved differing versions of the event, particularly an attempt by Alexander to swim.12 Diodorus made Alexander appear more heroic. In grave danger as his ship was tossed about, Alexander stared death in the face, stripped naked, and leapt 11 Plut. Vit. Alex. 58.4. 12 Diod. Sic. 17.97.1–3; and Curt. 9.4.8–14.

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into the river. The Greek historian did add that friends swam with Alexander (parenēchonto) to give him needed assistance. In the account of Curtius Rufus, Alexander only disrobed in order to be ready to jump in. He planned to reach his friends, who were already swimming close by and waiting to help him. His options were equally uninviting: it was as dangerous to remain on board a vessel spinning out of control as it was to try swimming in the churning waters. At that critical juncture, the river began to widen and slow down. His crew took to the oars and managed to run the ship aground. Diodorus and Curtius Rufus agreed on one detail. Alexander counted on the help of friends in the water. He would not attempt to swim on his own. On another occasion, one of Alexander’s sailors swam to retrieve the general’s diadem. Following Aristobulus, Arrian portrayed Alexander piloting a trireme in the Babylonian marshlands where the kings of Assyria had their tombs. A strong gust of wind blew Alexander’s cap and diadem from his head. The cap finished in the marsh while the diadem caught on a reed. Immediately a Phoenician sailor swam to retrieve the diadem. He removed it from the reed and bound the band around his head to keep it dry while he swam back to the trireme.13 Following Cleitarchus, Diodorus Siculus gave an alternate version. Alexander’s small oared vessel (akation) became separated from the others, and days passed as he searched for a way out of the marsh. While proceeding along a narrow channel lined by thick reeds, his diadem caught on one of the reeds and dropped into the swamp. A rower swam back to the diadem and put it on his head to keep it from damage as he ferried it back.14 Alexander did not swim for the diadem, although the duty may have fallen by status to a sailor.15 Rivers tested the army of Alexander. In 331 BCE, Alexander launched a preemptive strike at night across the Danube River. His soldiers used dugout canoes or makeshift floats from tent covers stuffed with hay, as Xenophon’s soldiers had done.16 When Alexander’s army reached the Oxus (Amu Darya) River in Central Asia in 329 BCE, Alexander was upset that he could not locate boats for the crossing. His opponent Bessus, satrap of Bactria, had burned them all. Alexander’s engineers informed him that sinking piles for a bridge was also not an option. He had to fall back on the only expedient available. Alexander 13 Arr. Anab. 7.22.2–5; and App. Syr. 11.56 (Roman History, Syrian Book, 2019, 3:116–17). 14 Diod. Sic. 17.116.5–117.4. 15 N. G. L. Hammond has argued that the sensational details added by Diodorus from Cleitarchus make the account in Arrian more credible; see N. G. L. Hammond, 1998, 413–14, 423–24. From a nautical perspective, an akation with its shallower draft and greater maneuverability seems a more appropriate watercraft for exploring an unknown marshland. 16 Arr. Anab. 1.3.5–4.5.

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distributed hides stuffed with straw to his soldiers who would lie on the buoyant hides and then swim across the river in waves. Arrian said that the soldiers carried the hides as tent coverings. It took five days for the whole army to cross. In both cases, Alexander’s soldiers utilized a makeshift flotation device.17 Alexander later realized that his reliance on skins stuffed with dried grass could backfire. If Alexander were to use the floats at the battle of the Iaxartes (Tanais / Syr Darya) River, he would teach his Scythian enemies the trick. His insight became axiomatic: “the fortune of war teaches its art even to the vanquished.”18 Alexander decided to divide and conquer rather than allow Scythia and Sogdiana to fight as one. He would cross the Iaxartes and attack the Scythians. He planned to utilize whatever watercraft he could muster and supply covering fire from his catapults on the riverbank. The Scythians were astonished by the long range of the Macedonian artillery and withdrew a distance from the river. Their pullback allowed Alexander to launch his amphibious assault. Rafts ferried the phalanx and cavalry. Many horsemen let their horses swim behind the rafts. Alexander had lighter-armed troops employ individual skins stuffed with straw. The troops in the water positioned themselves between the rafts for cover. Alexander got his army across, established a beachhead, and defeated the Scythians. Hide rafts and hide floats had again contributed to Alexander’s success. His soldiers did not swim unaided.19 Alexander settled affairs in Central Asia and marched south to India. In 326 BCE, at the Hydaspes River, he confronted Porus, king of Parava (Gujrat). Alexander planned to re-utilize the boats he had employed to build a pontoon bridge over the Indus River. He ordered that the boats be cut into two or three pieces and transported on carts for reassembly. Unfortunately, Alexander reached the Hydaspes after marching through the monsoon rains. The swollen river was too wide for his bridge, and its fords were mostly flooded. Porus was awaiting Alexander’s arrival at a place called Haranpur, one of the rare locations where it was still possible to ford the river.20 The Macedonian commander settled on a two-part strategy. He would try to fool Porus into believing that he was going to wait for the dry season to attack, and he would wear down the morale of the king’s forces through diversionary tactics. Alexander had his troops make feint after feint at various points along the river, usually at night.

17 Curt. 7.5.17–18; and Arr. Anab. 3.29.2–4. See, e.g., Cawthorne, 79–82. In general, see Bloedow. 18 Curt. 7.7.15–17 (History of Alexander, 1946, 2:190–91). 19 Curt. 7.8.6, 7.9.2–5. See, e.g., Holt, 53–63. 20 Curt. 8.13.7–11. See, e.g., Ashley, 318–41.

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He forced the troops of Porus to wake up and move into position to defend the riverbank. Both generals recognized the importance of the islets in the middle of the channel. They sent soldiers to swim across to the islands (nantes transibant) while they held their weapons over their heads. Wading seems a better description. One island skirmish involved two young Macedonian nobles named Hegesimachus and Nicanor.21 Rashly assuming that fortune favored the brave Alexander, they recruited a small unit of the most athletic young fighters for a raid on an island held by a band of Hindi. The Macedonians swam across (transnavere) armed only with lances and hubris. They did slay many Hindi. Instead of withdrawing, they waited for Hindi reinforcements to arrive but failed to detect a group who swam out (enaverant) as their compatriots barraged the island from long range. The flower of Macedonian youth was either killed on the island or swept away by the river’s current as they fled. Soldiers on both sides reached the island by wading or swimming. The Macedonians came carrying their lances, while the Hindis arrived undetected. The Hindis used swimming to greater advantage. In the meantime, scouts of Alexander had discovered a wooded island named Admana about 30 km away. At the island, the river had a ravine along its bank, and it made a considerable bend. In order to get the army across, Alexander planned to hide crack troops in the ravine and move them at night on boats and skin rafts. As a diversion he sent his cavalry to a ford halfway between the island and his camp, where for days they raised a battle-cry as if planning to swim across (transnaturus). In the middle of the night and the midst of a thunderstorm, he had his troops cross using the island as a shield. Unfortunately, Alexander presumed that another island or unrecognizable section of Adamna, now separated by a new channel, was the opposite bank. Before that error cost him dearly, Alexander’s troops found a ford to complete the crossing and expose the rear of Porus’s army. Even that part of the crossing was taxing because the deep ford reached the chests of his men and the necks of his horses.22 Boats, skin rafts, and a ford together allowed Alexander’s best troops to transit the river.23 Alexander sailed down the Indus to Pattala, where the river divided into an eastern and western branch. In the summer of 325 BCE, he explored the 21 Curt. 8.13.12–16. 22 Curt. 8.13.17–27; and Arr. Anab. 5.11.1–13.4. 23 Arr. Anab. 5.20.8–10. Alexander likewise had his army cross the Acesines (Chenab) River on boats and hides stuffed with straw. The soldiers on floats fared better than those on boats in a wide river with swift rapids and sharp rocks.

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western branch. When the fleet reached the delta, it likely encountered a marine event called a tidal bore, during which the water rises to become a roiling wall several feet high and continues to rise after the bore itself has passed. The first high tide arrived so suddenly that it caused the Greek vessels to crash into each other. It flooded the plains bordering the river and left only the tops of knolls exposed. Many of the crew deserted their ships and swam to the dry spots. Then the tide roared back out. It left the ships high and dry. Some of the men assumed that they were now trapped and would soon run out of food. But they hesitated to leave the ships. The raging tide had brought in giant crabs who patrolled the mud flats. For a moment, Alexander wondered if he had reached the end. Then he took decisive action. Alexander sent horsemen to the mouth of the river who were to outrace the next high tide and warn the rest of his forces that it was about to arrive. He had repairs made to the damaged ships. The horsemen beat the high tide back to the ships, and all were ready for its arrival. It lifted the ships from their muddy entrapment and refloated them.24 Alexander sent a fleet under Nearchus to explore the shore of the Arabian Sea as far as the mouth of the Euphrates River. The voyage supplied evidence for unaided swimming by some of Alexander’s troops. While coasting near a place called Cabana, the fleet encountered rough surf. Nearchus decided to anchor his vessels in open water. While at anchor, the fleet was hit by a sudden squall that sank two warships and one galley. Given that they were not far from land, soldiers in light armor were able to swim to shore.25 An amphibious attack on a village of survivors of the Stone Age offered further evidence. Those Fisheaters (Ichthyophagoi) lived on a lagoon where the Hingol (Tomerus) River met the sea. Nearchus selected from his troops the most agile and lightly armed, who were also the most experienced swimmers. At a signal, that select corps was to begin to swim toward shore. The lightly armed corps dived in, swam, found their footing, took their places, and attacked as a well-formed phalanx. From the ships their fellow soldiers launched a barrage of arrows and other missiles. The flash of armor, the speed of the charge, and the shower of missiles caused the half-naked Fisheaters to panic. Some were killed in flight, some were captured, and some escaped to the hills.26

24 Curt. 9.9.9–19. See, e.g., Zerbe, 203–06; and Ashley, 96–100. 25 Arr. Indica 23.2–3. 26 Arr. Indica 24.5–8. Eggermont, 64–67.

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2.2 The Dexterity of Julius Caesar and His Soldiers In writing Caesar’s biography a century and a half after his assassination, Suetonius enumerated the qualities that led the Romans to deify him.27 Among those were physical feats that allowed Caesar to display personal courage and lead armies to victory. They included swimming. When Caesar came up against the barrier of a river, he would either swim across unaided or with the aid of an inflated skin. At Pharos in Alexandria, Caesar proved his willingness to risk a hazardous swim. There are at least seven accounts of his exploit in ancient historians and biographers. They supply conflicting details of the circumstances that led Caesar into grave difficulty and the way that he swam to safety.28 The swim took place after Caesar had already captured the lighthouse and its island of Pharos. The sources agree that Caesar pressed on toward the city, launching an amphibious attack on the causeway. The Alexandrians counterattacked from front and rear, and a furious confrontation played out on the narrow land bridge. Thereafter the sources disagree. Casualties mounted as the Alexandrians slew their opponents and overloaded Roman ships were swamped. The more fortunate among the fleeing Romans held their shields over their heads and swam to ships at anchor. In the meantime, Caesar did all he could to rally his troops. He put himself in harm’s way until he recognized that his men had quit the fight. At that moment Caesar made for his own boat. The analysis of Caesar’s swim involves four details: the start, the swimming, his cloak, and the outcome. The Bellum Alexandrinum had Caesar elect to dive into the harbor from his own overloaded boat, a decision that proved judicious when the boat foundered. Plutarch said that Caesar chose to abandon the boat once it was surrounded by enemy ships. Only later did he stipulate that the Alexandrians sank Caesar’s boat early in the engagement. Suetonius said that Caesar was forced to retreat onto a boat. When too many others followed him, he jumped off. Appian’s first account simply had Caesar leap into the sea, and his other account specified that Caesar made the leap when he realized he was in extreme danger after being left alone on the causeway. Florus said that Caesar was driven from the peninsula of Pharos into the sea, and Cassius Dio likewise claimed that Caesar fell into the sea in the crush of soldiers rushing to flee the causeway. Florus and Dio shifted the reason for beginning to swim 27 Suet. Iul. 57. 28 The seven are: the spurious Bellum Alexandrinum attributed to Caesar but likely redacted by Aulus Hirtius (BAlex. 21.1–3, c. 44 BCE), the later biographers Plutarch (Vit. Caes. 49.7–8, after 96 CE) and Suetonius (Iul. 64, c. 120 CE), and the later historians Appian (B Civ. 2.90, 150, c. 150–60 CE), Florus (2.13.59, c. 160 CE), and Cassius Dio (42.40.3–5, c. 200–235 CE). Lucan also left a revisionist account which served as the abrupt conclusion to his epic poem entitled Pharsalia.

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from a voluntary decision on Caesar’s part, in one instance at least to save the others on the boat, to an involuntary decision due to pandemonium. The Bellum Alexandrinum was terse in describing Caesar’s swim: he swam – period. Plutarch emphasized the factors that made the swimming difficult: missiles flew at Caesar in the water and he was holding many papers in one hand. Despite the barrage, Caesar refused to let go of the papers. He used his free hand for propulsion. Suetonius stated that Caesar held the papers up with his left hand and swam 200 passus (0.296 km). In one account, Appian kept matters simple: Caesar swam a long way in deep water. His second description is unique for having Caesar devise a way to reduce his vulnerability. He would swim a distance underwater, surface briefly to take a breath, and then return underwater where he was shielded from enemy weapons. That style of swimming, however, would not allow Caesar to protect his valuable papers. Florus introduced an element of divine protection by suggesting that the general swam with “wonderful good fortune.”29 Cassius Dio joined Plutarch in offering a more extended description of Caesar’s swimming. Since Caesar had been pushed into the water by the stampeding crowd, he was fully clothed. That almost cost him his life as his clothing weighed him down and provided a target. The Roman general rid himself of his clothing, held up documents in his left hand, and succeeded in swimming away from nearly certain death. Neither the Bellum Alexandrinum nor Plutarch said anything about a cloak that Caesar was wearing. Suetonius claimed that Caesar clenched the cloak in his teeth and dragged it behind him so it would not be captured. Appian offered two details about its fate. In one account, given the extreme danger, Caesar threw off the purple cloak before he dived into the water. In the other, the Egyptians seized the cloak and hung it up as a trophy. Florus was unsure whether Caesar left the cloak behind by design or it accidentally fell off. Whatever the reason, it drew enemy fire away from him. Cassius Dio inferred that Caesar shed the cloak in the water so it would not weigh him down or supply a ready target. He concurred with Appian that the Egyptians plucked the purple garment from the water and displayed the trophy to commemorate their routing the Romans.30 In the Bellum Alexandrinum, Caesar’s swim ended when he reached friendly ships. He immediately sent boats back to assist his beleaguered soldiers, and, as a result, many were saved. Plutarch noted that Caesar escaped and saved his precious papers. Suetonius presented an altogether positive outcome whereby Caesar got away to the nearest ship, and he saved both his papers and his cloak. 29 Florus 2.13.59 (Epitome of Roman History, 1929, 284–85): “mira felicitate.” 30 Hurschmann, “Tropaion,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/.

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figure 4 Caesar’s swim at Alexandria

Appian agreed that Caesar escaped but lost his cloak. His other account had Caesar swimming underwater until he was near a friendly ship. He stretched out his hands as he surfaced, made himself known to those on the boat, and was rescued. Presumably, Caesar’s voice and countenance caused the sailors to recognize someone appearing suddenly from below the surface. Florus emphasized that Caesar was taken on board by his sailors and soon resumed the attack on his foes. Cassius Dio said that Caesar succeeded in reaching a skiff that he boarded. He saved his papers but not his cloak. To evaluate the historicity of varying details, one must apply appropriate criteria.31 One criterion helpful in distinguishing the historical deeds of Caesar in Alexandria from the heroic legend of the deified Caesar is that of embarrassment. Caesar and his troops were in dire straits on the causeway. Their amphibious assault began as three cohorts landed near the city end of the land bridge with support from missiles launched from Roman ships. As Caesar’s troops advanced toward the city, the Alexandrians landed in boats behind him. When the Roman rear broke, the attacking legionaries panicked and ran for their boats. The battle marked the worst defeat of Caesar’s Egyptian campaign. Roman casualties numbered close to 1,000. The chaotic effort to flee in boats contributed to Caesar’s having to swim to safety. If he was wearing a purple cloak, he would likely get rid of it before entering the water or as soon afterwards as he could, even at the risk of dishonor. Those who report that the Egyptians seized the cloak and displayed it as a trophy have embarrassment on their side. 31

See, e.g., Meier, 167–95.

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By way of context, the realities of boating and swimming may aid in winnowing dubious details. The amphibious attack was likely conducted in boats easy to maneuver and beach so that the soldiers could disembark quickly. Similarly, Caesar would more easily be rescued from the water by a boat or ship with lower sides than a multi-banked galley or a merchantman. The Bellum Alexandrinum makes sense in saying that Caesar sent back boats to rescue his remaining soldiers. It also presents the commander in a heroic light for thinking of them immediately and mitigates possible censure for his abandoning the fight. From a swimming perspective, if Caesar was wearing a purple cloak, he was wise to shed it, even if it fell into enemy hands. In that light it seems foolhardy to value a sheaf of documents so much that one would try to swim one-handed while dodging a fusillade of enemy missiles. Appian’s description of swimming underwater as much as possible makes good sense when one is the target of missiles. The density of water slows their velocity. Caesar did survive the battle on the causeway. His swimming to safety had little to do with fortune and much to do with rigorous training. Caesar’s soldiers at times gave proof of their emulation for an athletic commander. At Pharos his soldiers held their shields over their heads and swam to waiting boats.32 In North Africa, the troops of Caesar under the command of Gaius Scribonius Curio suffered defeat in 49 BCE at the hands of King Juba of Numidia (c. 85–46 BCE). Caesar’s soldiers pleaded with their squadron commander, Marcius Rufus, to withdraw them from danger and ferry them back to Sicily. Rufus instructed the ship captains to send their boats to the beach in the early evening. The captains objected. They falsely claimed that enemy forces were close by and a visible cloud of dust heralded their arrival. The crews of the Roman galleys rowed into deep water away from the desperate troops, and the captains of the merchantmen followed suit. They sent only a few boats to the beach. When the boats arrived, the soldiers fought for places on board and swamped several. In the end, only a few soldiers and family men were taken on board the ships of the fleet and managed to reach Sicily. Caesar said that they succeeded by making a claim on the compassion of others or by swimming out to the ships on their own.33 Caesar himself in his history of the civil war and Lucan a century later in his epic on the war recalled the aid of swimming during the campaign against the Pompeians in Hispania. After a victory at Ilerda (Lérida), Caesar’s army encamped between two small streams that fed into the Sicoris (Segre) River. 32 BAlex. 20. For Caesar’s armed soldiers wading through deep surf to shore during a reconnaissance mission to Britain in 55 BCE, see Caes. BGall. 4.22–26. 33 Caes. BCiv. 2.43.2–44.1.

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The Pompeians controlled the only bridge leading to Ilerda itself, and a sudden storm fed by melting snows washed away two pontoon bridges that Caesar’s soldiers had built across the Sicoris. There were no viable fords for thirty miles in either direction. Although Caesar had ordered a supply train to march from Italy and Gaul, it had not yet arrived. The soldiers in the camp were trapped without food. If those soldiers left camp to forage, they were ambushed by the Lusitani and the troops of the Pompeian commander Afranius. In fact, Caesar acknowledged that the Lusitani had an advantage in a theater with rivers because they were equipped with inflatable skins.34 Caesar decided to offset his disadvantage by crossing a legion several miles to the north in oversize coracles that he had first seen during his campaigns in Britain. Lucan analyzed the differing mentalities of Caesar and Marcus Petreius, working with Afranius as co-legate for Spain. While Petreius preferred headstrong fighters, who had no fear of dying, Caesar created problems through his ability to tame nature and engineer the environment. At Ilerda, Petreius was intimidated when Caesar had his soldiers cut a path to the hill on which the city stood and felled trees to bridge and channel the Sicoris River. Petreius therefore abandoned the high ground. When Caesar saw the hills bare and camp deserted, he ordered his troops to take up arms and swim directly across the river. He forbade them from using the bridge just built or a shoal or ford. Lucan surmised that attacking soldiers welcomed the challenge of swimming. If they were retreating, they were hesitant to swim. His poetry conveyed the rapid action of Caesar’s soldiers as they donned their arms, swam across the river, and then dried off as quickly as possible. They formed a line of march as they battled lingering chill from their soaking.35 In 46 BCE, Caesar’s naval commander in Hispania, Gaius Didius, defeated the Pompeians at Carteia. A year later Caesar himself inflicted a second defeat at Munda (Monda). Pompey’s son Gnaeus was wounded at Munda and fled with an escort of Lusitani. In due course, Didius’s men caught up to the prized quarry at Lauro and killed him. Caesar then sent Didius to destroy the Pompeian fleet. After Didius beached his fleet at Gades, the Lusitani got a measure of revenge. They prepared an ambush, burned the beached ships, and killed Didius and many crewmen. Those of Didius’s forces who survived tried to escape by swimming. Using ships’ boats (scaphae), the Lusitani captured some of the escapees near shore. Most Caesareans swam out to friendly ships anchored in deep water.36 34 Caes. BCiv. 1.48.1–7. 35 Lucan 4.137–54. See, e.g., Fratantuono, 137–38. 36 BHisp. 40.

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On occasion the sources name a heroic swimmer in Caesar’s legions. Given a pattern to his heroic action and name (Scaeva / Scaevius), the character may have served authors of fiction and non-fiction as the archetypal stalwart. Caesar himself mentioned a soldier by the name of Scaeva whose shield had been pierced 230 times while defending an outpost at Dyrrhachium (Durrës) in 48 BCE. For his valor, Caesar promoted him to chief centurion.37 Lucan then developed the character to become a paradigm of the fanatically loyal individual driven by fury to commit unspeakable acts. In the perversion of ethics produced by civil war, Scaeva exemplified the blind partisan who promotes horrendous bloodshed. Twice in Lucan’s epic, at Dyrrhachium and Alexandria, Scaeva appeared to bale Caesar out of circumstances from which there seemed no exit. On the causeway a Caesar racked by doubt and seeing no escape for himself and his soldiers had to be shaken from stasis by Scaeva.38 Other authors presented a more complex picture of the redoubtable Scaeva. In the writings of Valerius Maximus, Plutarch, and Cassius Dio, he appeared as an intrepid swimmer in combat. Valerius Maximus and Plutarch celebrated his heroism in the context of Caesar’s invasion of Britain. According to Valerius Maximus, Scaevius traveled with four companions by boat to a rock outcrop close to shore. At low tide, a horde of Celts streamed into the shallows to dislodge the Romans. While the others took the boat back to shore, Scaevius held his ground. He was not without the energy that epitomized Lucan’s fictional character. Scaevius hurled as many javelins as five soldiers would launch during a day’s fighting. He drove back the boldest attackers by whacking them with his shield boss and slashing them with his sword blade. He fought on after he had his thigh run through with a spear, his face smashed by a stone, his helmet hacked to pieces, and his shield pierced so many times it was disintegrating. Finally, he made a dramatic exit by swimming in the waves stained with the gore of the enemy soldiers he had dispatched. He made the swim while weighed down by breastplates front and back. When he appeared before Caesar, he begged his pardon for bringing back a shield pierced numerous times. Plutarch offered his variations on the theme. His soldier was not named, and, in full view of Caesar, he rescued a group of centurions from swampy terrain along a river. Britons on horseback exploited that unfavorable landscape to press the Roman front line so hard that defeat seemed imminent. At that point, 37 Caes. BCiv. 3.53. Cf. Suet. Iul. 68.4 (shield pierced 120 times and lost an eye); and App. B Civ. 2.60 (wounded in the eye by a dart). 38 Lucan 6.138–262 (Dyrrhachium), 10.534–46 (Alexandria). See, e.g., Hömke; Bonner, 99–101; and Fratantuono, 225–31, 430–37.

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the unnamed soldier rushed into the midst of the fight and routed the barbarians. Once the soldier was certain that the centurions were safe, he plunged into the marsh and, by wading and swimming, got across the muddy waters. When Caesar offered the soldier his congratulations, he burst into tears, threw himself at Caesar’s feet, and apologized for losing his shield. Perforated numerous times, it had fallen apart.39 Cassius Dio was the last of the three to write an account of a Scaevius. The Greek historian moved the exemplary soldier’s exploits back in time. During a campaign in Hispania in 61–60 BCE, Caesar drove Lusitanian inhabitants of the Herminian Mountains to the island of Erythaea off the coast at Gades. When Caesar found himself short of boats to ferry his troops over to the island, he assembled rafts to carry a portion of the army across. The commander of that impromptu fleet decided to land the troops on a breakwater a short distance from the island. He then planned to have them cross on foot at low tide. However, when the tide rose and forced them off the breakwater, he fled, leaving his troops to fend for themselves. All but one of the landing party were killed. The lone survivor, Publius Scaevius, lost his shield and suffered multiple wounds. Still, Scaevius managed to leap into the water and save himself by swimming.40 3

The Macedonians and Rome’s Militarization

3.1 Greek Swimming after Alexander Evidence from the years after Alexander’s death confirms the spotty reputation of Macedonian infantry for swimming. Diodorus Siculus recounted the foray of Perdiccas into Egypt with his army and forty elephants to recover the corpse of Alexander from Ptolemy I. Perdiccas first attempted a direct assault on the Fort of the Camels along the Nile near Memphis, but Ptolemy arrived to rally the defenders. Perdiccas next tried to bypass the fort and launch a surprise attack on Memphis while Ptolemy was still in the fort. To simplify matters, his army undertook the Nile crossing at an island. A first contingent made it to the island in water that was chin deep. Perdiccas placed his elephants upstream to dam the flow and positioned his cavalry downstream to rescue any floundering soldiers. He did not calculate that the elephants would shuffle their feet in discomfort, weaken the sandbar, and end up making the water deeper. Perdiccas decided to call off the attack and ordered those who had 39 Val. Max. 3.2.23b; and Plut. Vit. Caes. 16.3–4. 40 Cass. Dio 37.53.1–4.

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made it to the island to retreat. The death toll reached 2,000. The strongest swimmers managed to survive, but only after they discarded their equipment. Those still wearing their armor drowned because, according to Diodorus, the Macedonians suffered when swimming from a want of skill (apeiria).41 In July 316 BCE, Eumenes of Cardia routed the Macedonian Antigonus the One-eyed at the Coprates (Dez) River. The two armies were operating in the area where the Coprates flowed into the Pasitigris (Karun) River. When Eumenes received word that a part of the army of Antigonus together with about 6,000 foragers had crossed the Coprates River, he marched his forces over a pontoon bridge on the Pasitigris and attacked the unsuspecting troops. Eumenes overwhelmed the undermanned Macedonians, who fled back to their boats beached along the Coprates. They boarded in such numbers that they swamped the boats. Most of those who tried to swim to safety were carried off by the current and drowned. Approximately 4,000 non-swimmers surrendered because they preferred capture to death in the river.42 In both episodes, the Macedonian infantry did not distinguish itself in the water. In 279 BCE swimming barbarians gave an allied force of Hellenistic Greeks fits. King Brennus brought his Galatian Tolistobogii into Greece, and they plundered their way through Macedonia. The Greeks sent a force of cavalry and 1,000 light-armed troops to block the raiders’ path at the Spercheius River. They destroyed the bridges over the Spercheius and encamped along its bank. Brennus tried to outflank the Greeks by dispatching crack soldiers at night to an unpatrolled area where the river spilled onto the plain to form a marshy lake. The select force made its way across the widened Spercheius either by wading if tall enough or by swimming on their small shield (buckler). The Greek contingent had to abandon the river line, leaving the sanctuary at Delphi vulnerable to plunder.43 3.2 Swimming Heroics of Archaic Rome According to historical legend, the archaic Romans struggled to gain their autonomy by defeating the neighboring peoples. Those struggles also taught the Romans the dangers they faced when they had to swim in lakes and rivers. Dionysius of Halicarnassus claimed that Romulus witnessed the courage of Mettus Curtius who stiffened the resistance of his Sabine comrades 41 Diod. Sic. 18.35.1–6 (Library of History, 1947, 9:112). See, e.g., Roisman, 97–102; and Worthington, 95–97. 42 Diod. Sic. 19.18.4–7 (apeiroi). See, e.g., Anson, 180–83. 43 Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).20.6–8. Brennus may be a generic name for chieftain. Polybius (5.46.7–9) described the rout of drunken Seleucid troops by the rebel Molon and their drowning in the Tigris. See, e.g., Rankin, 83–97; and Grainger, 9–13.

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and covered their orderly retreat. The two heroes then met in single combat; Curtius withdrew after sustaining multiple wounds at the hands of Rome’s first king. Arriving at a lake surrounded by Romans, he threw himself armed into the muddy slop along the shore and swam to the middle. To the surprise of Romulus, who left him there to drown, Mettus Curtius continued across to the other side.44 Romans were reminded of the event when a monument was built in the Roman Forum, likely during the reign of Augustus. Called the lacus Curtius, it stood on the purported spot of the swim. Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Livy reported Rome’s struggle with the Etruscans of Veii and their allies from Fidenae to control river traffic and saltworks on the Tiber. The Greek historian may have projected the conflict backward to the reign of King Tullus Hostilius (r. 672–41 BCE). Livy placed the battle in 426 BCE as a prelude to Rome’s ten-year siege of Veii. Fearing encirclement by the Romans, the Veientes tried to escape by crossing the Tiber. The retreating soldiers had to jettison their arms. Only a few succeeded in swimming across the river. Even experienced swimmers were pulled under due to wounds, panic, and fatigue. The two historians concurred that the death toll rose because too few fleeing soldiers could swim the river.45 Horatius Cocles proved a sharp contrast. He became a hero of the early Republic by swimming to glory.46 Cocles sprang into action when Lars Porsenna launched an attack from the Janiculum hill and threatened to enter the city across the wooden bridge to the Tiber Island. By chance on guard duty, Horatius saved the nascent Republic by blocking passage across the bridge. While Horatius delayed the Etruscans, he had his fellow Romans destroy the bridge behind him. When he heard it crash down – he could not turn to look – he offered a prayer to the river god Tiberinus and leapt in. Against overwhelming odds, he attempted to swim across. He had already been wounded, wore armor, encountered a hail of enemy missiles, and swam where the bridge piers quickened the current as it split around them.47 Some accounts said that he made it across without further injury. Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Plutarch indicated that, when Horatius turned away from the attacking Etruscans, he 44 45 46 47

Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.42.5–6, 2.46.3. The version in C. Calpurnius Piso (Varro Ling. 5.149) has Curtius crossing a swamp. That in Livy (1.12.8–10, 1.13.5) has Curtius plunging into the swamp and reappearing on his horse after an exciting interval. See, e.g., Jaeger, 30–56. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.25.1–5; and Livy 4.33.10–12. A similar battle under Romulus where, after defeat, the Veientes threw themselves into Tiber and drowned: Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.55.2. See, e.g., Camporeale, “Veii,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.23–25; and Livy 2.10.1–13. For the Cloelia parallel, see Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.33.1–4; and Livy 2.13.6–11 (supra). In addition to Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, see Frontin. Str. 2.13.5.

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Horatius Cocles swims to safety after defending the bridge

took a painful spear in the buttock. And in his Parallel Stories, Plutarch had Horatius Cocles hit in the eye by an arrow just as he went to leap into the Tiber. A wound resulting in chronic injury visibly ratified the heroism of Cocles.48 3.3 Pontius Cominius and the Gallic Siege of the Capitoline The Romans early on awarded the status of civic hero to citizens who swam to defend the commonwealth. The next one emerged at a low point in the Republic’s military fortunes, the sack of Rome by Gauls in 390/387 BCE. The raiding Gauls had defeated the Romans at the battle of the Allia River. According to Diodorus Siculus, a first contingent of Roman soldiers in flight tried to swim the river in full armor and were swept away. Most of the rest chose to discard their arms before swimming. The Gauls showered them 48 Plut. Vit. Publicola 16.1–7, Mor. Parallela Graeca et Romana 307d–e (8), citing Theotimus Italian History. See, e.g., Roller, 12–16.

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with javelins, which often hit their mark because the swimmers had massed together.49 Livy’s account had purposeful coloring. He claimed that a very unRoman terror gripped the troops after defeat on the battlefield. The entire left wing of the Roman battle line made for the bank of the Tiber. In quick succession, they jettisoned their weapons, suffered numerous casualties, and wondered whether to attempt the crossing. Many who chose to do so had no skill in swimming (imperiti nandi), or they lacked the strength because they were weighed down by armor. The river swallowed them up.50 The Gauls followed up their victory by raiding Rome. They entered the city and placed the Capitoline citadel under siege. Breaking the siege provided Roman redemption in multiple ways: Camillus came back from exile to command the Romans, those who abandoned the field at the Allia became a part of his liberating army, and swimming served as a pillar of victory, not a way to flee defeat. Camillus the general and Cominius the swimmer teamed to save the Romans trapped in the citadel. There are four accounts of the exploits of Pontius Cominius.51 Frontinus is the only one to report that Cominius was sent by the Romans on the Capitoline to request that Camillus come to their aid. He slithered down the Tarpeian rock, eluded the Gallic sentries, swam up the Tiber, reached Veii, and delivered the message. Though the other authors differ on details, including the spelling of the name, they all insist that Cominius started from Veii and took his message to the besieged on the Capitoline in Rome.52 Each described the goal of the mission, the trip itself, the delivery of the message to the appropriate audience, and the return trip to Veii. On the trip from Veii to Rome, Diodorus Siculus portrayed Cominius traveling alone at night by swimming the river. Having made his way unseen to the steep cliff of the Capitoline, he struggled to haul himself to the top. Livy specified that Cominius supported himself on a strip of cork and floated down the Tiber with the current. He made his way from the riverbank along a path so steep that the Gauls had left it unguarded. Plutarch emphasized that Cominius traveled without a written copy of his message lest he be caught with it. He made most of the trip during daylight and reached the edge of the city as night fell. He wore coarse garments and hid pieces of cork beneath his clothing. The details imply that Cominius walked most of the way to Rome. When he saw that sentries were guarding the bridge, he wrapped his light garments around 49 50 51 52

Diod. Sic. 14.114–15. Livy 5.38.5–8. See, e.g., Luce, 268–79, 285–86, 297–98. Diod. Sic. 14.116.1–5; Livy 5.46.8–10; Plut. Vit. Cam. 25; and Frontin. Str. 3.13.1. Pontius Cominius (Livy); Pontius Cominus (Plut. Vit. Cam.); Cominius Pontius (Diod. Sic.); Gaius Pontius (Plut. De fort. Rom.).

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his head, fastened the pieces of cork to his body, and used them as support while he swam across the Tiber. Determining the location of the enemy by the sound of voices and the light of fires, he gave them wide berth and approached the Capitoline through the Porta Carmentalis. The swimming heroics seem exaggerated in Diodorus and Livy, who imply that Cominius swam all the way from Veii to Rome. Diodorus claimed that he did so at night, alone, and on his own power. Why swim the entire 15 km when the Gauls were busy besieging the Capitoline? Plutarch’s account makes more sense. Cominius chose coarse garments to conceal his identity and appear an impoverished peasant in case he was stopped along the way. He likewise carried no written copy of his message. Cominius set out on foot during daylight so that he would reach the outskirts of Rome after nightfall. He hid under his garments the cork he would use to help him swim the river. Both Livy and Plutarch highlighted that Cominius utilized cork as a support during his nighttime swim. That seems a prudent safety factor under the circumstances. The claim that Cominius swam back to Veii seems incredible. He may have preferred to drift downstream and cross the river where it was unguarded. He would not swim 15 km upriver. 3.4 Swimming in the Punic Wars: Hannibal as Master From the outset of the Second Punic War (218–202 BCE), Hannibal schooled the Romans on an army’s need to cope with rivers. Silius Italicus described Hannibal’s battle shield, cast for him by the craftsmen of Galicia. The Ebro River marked the shield’s border. By crossing that river, Hannibal broke the treaty with Rome and initiated the war.53 Silius borrowed an expression from Virgil to depict Hannibal swimming through the roaring rocks of an unfamiliar river and then summoning his colleagues to join him on the opposite bank. The rocks did not roar; the water in the rapids crashed over rocks and made a roaring sound.54 Family lore led Hannibal to prize swimming. According to Diodorus Siculus, his father Hamilcar Barkas drowned in Spain while crossing a river in flight. The father saved the lives of Hannibal and his brother by drawing to himself the pursuing Orissans.55 Hannibal’s march from Spain to Italy demonstrated his ability to overcome the obstacle that rivers presented. In 218 BCE, he managed to cross the Rhône River and dislodge the Celtic tribe of the Volcae massed on the opposite bank. Hannibal had previously offered peace to the Gauls on his side of the river in 53 Sil. Pun. 2.449–52. 54 Sil. Pun. 1.261–64, following Verg. Aen. 6.551. 55 Diod. Sic. 25.10.4.

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exchange for their selling him their boats. He supplemented those with quickly built dugouts. Because his Spanish auxiliaries (Hispani) were reputed to be excellent swimmers, he sent them upstream, where his Gallic guides informed him that an island lessened the river’s depth. A contingent of Spanish and African soldiers commanded by Hanno departed under cover of night. When they reached the ford, they prepared to cross. The swimming Spanish auxiliaries stuffed their clothes into skins, laid their circular shields over the buoyant skins, and used the rough assemblage for flotation as they swam across the river. When Hanno approached the Volcae from the rear, he lit a signal fire whose smoke indicated to Hannibal that he should now ferry the main force across the Rhône. In quick succession, Hanno took the camp of the Volcae, the Volcae realized they were surrounded, and they fled. Hannibal had transferred the bulk of his army and cleared the enemy from the opposite bank. He could focus on the complicated transport of his elephants and then press on into Italy.56 Once across the Alps, Hannibal and his army reached the Po River. Livy cited a report by Lucius Coelius Antipater, a second-century BCE jurist and historian, that Scipio had already withdrawn his Roman forces. Hannibal’s brother Mago immediately swam across the river with the cavalry and Spanish infantry. Hannibal himself took the rest of the army to a ford where he aligned his elephants in the current to slow the river’s surge.57 According to Livy, anyone who knows the Po will doubt the veracity of that account. Even if the Spanish auxiliaries swam across on their inflated skins, the river’s current was so strong that the cavalry were bound to lose horses and arms if they tried to swim. And it would require several days for Hannibal’s remaining army to complete the circuitous march and reach fords that could accommodate his baggage train. In Livy’s opinion the Carthaginians found a spot where they could bridge the Po on river boats so that they would not have to swim. Hannibal won a major victory at the battle of the Trebia (Trebbia) River by luring the Romans under the command of Sempronius into a trap that exploited the terrain. He chose a flat area without trees that the Trebia bisected. The steep banks of the stream were overgrown with thick reeds and thorny shrubs. The night before the battle Hannibal sent his brother Mago with a select force of infantry and cavalry to conceal themselves in the dense vegetation. At dawn, Hannibal launched his Numidian cavalry across the river to raid the Roman camp and provoke Sempronius into a full-scale battle. Meanwhile, he commanded that the rest of the army eat a hearty breakfast and rub themselves 56 Livy 21.27.1–28.12. 57 Livy 21.47.4–5; and Cass. Dio 14 (Epitome).8.24.

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down with olive oil for added insulation against the pelting sleet. Sempronius took Hannibal’s bait and ordered his army to cross the Trebia. None of them had had time to eat. In the wintry chill, they crossed in water that reached to their chests. From his hiding place Mago timed his attack on the Roman rear to perfection. On both flanks the Roman lines broke, and the soldiers fled back toward the river. Many were cut down by the enemy cavalry, while others perished in the river, swollen by rain the night before and snow that melted during the day. The Roman soldiers could no longer wade through the deeper water, and they could not swim because of the weight of their armor.58 Silius dramatized in verse the dispassionate narrative of defeat. As the Romans fled to the Trebia, so many accumulated on its bank that it collapsed under their collective weight. Many found themselves unexpectedly thrown into the river. One speedy Roman swimmer made it across. Grasping the bank with his hands, he struggled to gain a safe hold, began to pull himself up, and, while defenseless and exposed, was pinned in place by a well-aimed enemy spear. Another unarmed Roman soldier had the genial instinct to grab an enemy soldier and swim them both to their deaths. A soldier named Irpinus had almost made it to the opposite bank and was alerting his comrades to reach down and help pull him out. At that moment, a horse raging from its painful wounds was carried downstream by the current and crashed into Irpinus. The unexpected blow sent the gallant but exhausted swimmer to his death.59 In 217 BCE, Hannibal again ambushed a Roman army, as it marched along the shore of Lake Trasimene in central Italy. The topography was ideal for an ambush. The Roman army under the command of the consul Gaius Flaminius was advancing past the point where the hills crowded down toward the lake’s grassy shallows. On the mist-shrouded morning, Hannibal attacked the troops on their flank as they were emerging from that narrow passage to climb the next hill. The slaughter was on. Many Romans found themselves forced into the lake. According to Polybius, they either completely lost their minds and tried to swim in their armor, which led to a quick death by drowning, or they waded far enough into the water to cover their bodies and leave only their heads exposed. Then, they lifted their arms in supplication and tried to surrender to the Carthaginians. The appeal went unheeded, and the Numidian cavalry had a field day. At that desperate moment, encouraged by companions, some Romans took their own lives.60 58 Polyb. 3.71.1–74.11 (who does not mention swimming); Livy 21.54–56; and App. Hann. 7.24– 29. See, e.g., Lazenby, 1978, 55–58; and Gabriel, 36–39. 59 Sil. Pun. 4.585–97. 60 Polyb. 3.84.8–11. See, e.g., Lazenby, 1978, 62–65; and Gabriel, 39–43.

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For all the success of Hannibal in exploiting rivers and lakes to his advantage, the mention of Romans swimming seems confined to isolated examples. When Pliny the Elder compiled a list of Romans given surnames from trees, he included a Frondicius who swam across the Volturnus (Volturno) River camouflaged by foliage on his head.61 The episode occurred during the fight against Hannibal, perhaps in 216 BCE. With the acuity of hindsight, Silius Italicus did portray Scipio, Hannibal’s ultimate nemesis, as capable of swimming in his breastplate and doing so with such strength as to break the force of billowing waves.62 Livy noted that no one from a troop of Roman cavalry ambushed by the troops of Hannibal near Naples would have survived if he could not swim. The fleeing cavalry spotted the boats of fishermen just offshore. As they approached in the water, the fishermen came to their rescue.63 Even in the Third Punic War (149–46 BCE), little more than a pretext for Rome to destroy Carthage, the Carthaginians used swimming to their advantage. In 147 BCE the consul Publius Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus took command. He decided on two actions to hasten the city’s capitulation. He built a breakwall to block the entrance to the contiguous commercial and naval harbors, and he disposed siege engines on the breakwall to pummel a quay that the Carthaginians had fortified. The Carthaginians parried the obstruction by digging a new harbor entrance. But the siege engines were taking a toll as they battered the crucial quay. The Carthaginians therefore organized a night-time raid on the breakwall. Since there was no passageway, they could not attack by land. Since the water was too shallow, they could not use ships to attack. They planned a raid using troops who would surreptitiously swim to the mole and carry unlit torches. The raiders submerged, swam or waded over to the mole in chest-deep water, and caught the Romans off guard. Once they lit the torches, they were exposed. The Roman sentinels unleashed a withering barrage. Though repeatedly wounded, the raiders managed to dash through the hail of missiles, set the engines on fire, and force the Romans manning them to flee. Although the Carthaginians had volunteered for a suicide mission, they achieved their goal of neutralizing the siege engines, and some managed to swim back to their own forces.64 3.5 Roman Swimming to the End of the Republic During the Third Macedonian War, Roman legionaries were embarrassed on one occasion when they had to swim. In 171 BCE, King Perseus of Macedon 61 62 63 64

Plin. HN 17.7. Sil. Pun. 8.553–54 (Punica, 1934, 1:432–33). Livy 23.1.7–9. App. Pun. 8.124 (Roman History, African Book, 2019, 2:226–29).

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won a victory over the Romans and their allies near the Peneus River. After the Romans fled to the other side, Perseus gloated, highlighting events he witnessed on the night after the battle. When Roman soldiers were forced to swim across the river at night, they panicked like shipwrecked swimmers. The Macedonians could cross and attack the Roman camp because pusillanimity did not hold them back. It was particularly galling for Macedonians to mock the Romans, given that the Macedonians had a poor reputation as swimmers.65 In a war against the Cimbri late in the second century BCE, the Romans produced a swimming hero worthy of mention alongside Horatius Cocles, Cloelia, and Pontius Cominius. A Roman army suffered a disastrous defeat against the Cimbri in 105/104 BCE at the battle of Arausio (Orange). Among the Roman soldiers who fought that day was Sertorius, lionized for his exploits by Plutarch. Sertorius found himself alone, wounded, and separated from his horse after his comrades were put to flight. Against a strongly adverse current, Sertorius managed to swim across the river, and he brought along his shield and breastplate.66 He seems a vintage Stoic swimmer well suited to Plutarch’s own ethic of heroism: one oblivious to adversity as he pressed on resolutely against the flow. 4

Swimming Enemies

The rulers of Rome faced difficulties on the periphery of the Empire, within and beyond the borders. In Europe, the border essentially ran along the Rhine and Danube rivers, which collectively separated Rome from hostile German tribes. The Germans were good enough swimmers to put pressure on the Romans and convince them to enlist swimming auxiliaries. When Pliny the Younger composed a panegyric for Trajan, he used Domitian for an iniquitous foil. Pliny derided Domitian for his military embarrassments along the Rhine-Danube frontier. He personified the two rivers, who expressed delight in abetting Roman humiliation whenever an emperor proved indecisive. Witnesses on the banks of both rivers could see the reason. The Roman legions displaying eagles and standards patrolled one side, the German enemy habituated to row or swim across rivers occupied the other. The Germans swam rivers under all conditions, even when they were blocked by ice-floes or by flooding of the surrounding plains as the ice melted. Weak emperors turned the front line of imperial defense into a motive for ridicule. By contrast the Rhine

65 Livy 42.61.6–8. 66 Plut. Vit. Sert. 3.1.

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and Euphrates rivers expressed admiration for Trajan. Pliny advocated regular training in the mountains and waters.67 In the civil war that followed the death of Nero, the fighting spilled into Italy itself. In April 69 CE, the Germans supporting Vitellius fought the gladiators in service to Otho at an island in the Po River. The Vitellians first pretended to be building a boat-bridge across the Po. The Othonian gladiators reacted by trying to reach the island by boat. Their move was anticipated by the Germans, who in considerable numbers swam over and arrived first. To counter that move, the Othonian commander filled liburnians with the bravest gladiators. Brave though they may have been, they were not accurate when firing arrows from rocking boats. From solid ground the Germans hit their targets. The Germans then waded into the river, grabbed hold of the gladiator boats, and either boarded or sank them.68 Herodianus felt that the Germans fighting the Roman forces under Maximinus had advantages in the thick woods and deep marshes of their homeland. In the marshes, the Germans knew the places that were passable and were adept swimmers because they bathed exclusively in rivers.69 Celtic adversaries of Rome shared with the Germans a readiness to swim and use water to their advantage. When describing the rebellious Caledonians, Celtic residents of the Scottish Highlands, Herodianus depicted them reveling in their swampy birthplace. The naked Caledonians could swim or run through marshes and display their intimidating tattoos. Cassius Dio painted a memorable picture of the Celtic Amazon chieftain, Boudicca, with her flowing red locks, loose multicolored clothing, and menacing spear. She led a band of warriors into open revolt against Britain’s Roman colonizers. In wording reminiscent of the way that Numanus Remulus taunted Virgil’s Trojans, Boudicca told her troops to take pride in the fact that they were unruly Britons, unversed in the effeminate ways of their Roman occupiers. That stark difference offered the Britons an advantage in the war that was about to begin. Given that there were many rivers running through their territory, Boudicca saw the Britons exploiting them. The delicate Romans only crossed rivers in boats and always with difficulty. The Britons swam rivers naked.70

67 Plin. Panegyr. 14.1, 82.4–6. 68 Tac. Hist. 2.34–35. The armies met between the cities of Cremona and Mantua at a hamlet named Bedriacum (Betriacum). 69 Hdn. 3.14.6–7, 7.2.5–6. Herodianus wrote a history of the Roman Empire from the death of Marcus Aurelius in 180 CE to the accession of Gordian III in 238 CE. 70 Cass. Dio 62 (Epitome).5.6. See, e.g., Adler, 141–52.

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The Batavi as Supreme Swimming Auxiliaries

Roman authors celebrated the military contribution made by their swimming auxiliaries. The Romans had seen Hannibal make effective use of such allies. Caesar employed German auxiliaries during his campaign against Ptolemy XIII in Egypt. Ptolemy’s forces had encamped on a steep hill protected by the Nile River. Caesar approached the camp from the south along a road that crossed a narrow river, likely a drainage canal dug to irrigate fields. Ptolemy sent his cavalry and light infantry to block Caesar’s crossing and harass him from the opposite bank. Caesar overcame that force by sending bands of German cavalry to swim across to a spot where the bank was lower, while his infantry crossed on an improvised timber bridge. Together cavalry and infantry opened the blocked route. The amphibious German horsemen presage the use of swimming Batavi as an imperial bodyguard.71 Under the emperors, the Batavi became an elite auxiliary force of swimming horsemen. In the strict sense, the name Batavi refers to a German tribe that migrated to the territory between the Rhine and Waal rivers. Their homeland extended as far as the North Sea, what the Romans called the island of the Batavi (insula Batavorum). The Batavi became clients of Rome in 12 CE. As a reward for their service, they remained exempt from taxation until 69 CE. When the Romans imposed a levy on the Batavi, it led to a revolt from August 69 until October 70 CE. Tacitus introduced the Batavi by noting that they were not taxed for almost sixty years despite allying with the more powerful Romans. As their part of the bargain, the Batavi supplied men and arms. Tacitus asserted that the Batavi crossed the Rhine in battle formation and held on to their arms and horses. His language suggests that they swam in the water alongside the horses.72 The Batavi first contributed during the wars against the Germans, they increased their fame during the Roman invasion of Britain, and they featured a select body of cavalry who welcomed the opportunity to swim (praecipuo nandi studio). In the Annals Tacitus described aid that the Batavi gave the Principate early on. They participated in the campaign that Germanicus conducted against Arminius and the Cherusci. During the fighting the historian faulted Germanicus for committing a tactical error. He moored his attacking fleet along the left bank of the Amisia (Ems) River where it emptied into the North Sea. Tacitus argued that Germanicus should have proceeded farther upstream and then disembarked his troops on the right bank where they intended to 71 BAlex. 29. 72 Tac. Hist. 4.12 (Histories, 1931, 3:22). See, e.g., Dietz, “Batavi,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/.

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fight. Germanicus wasted valuable days in building a bridge. Otherwise the cavalry and legions had to wait for low tide in order to cross the estuary. On one such crossing, confusion erupted in the rear of the line occupied by auxiliaries among whom were the Batavi. The Batavi dashed into the water and unveiled their “art of swimming” (ars nandi).73 But disorder among the crossing troops caused a number of those skilled swimmers to drown. The Batavi fought next at the battle of Idistaviso, a plain situated between the Weser River and the hilly terrain beyond. Swimming played a role on both days of a battle in which Germanicus bested Arminius. On the first day the cavalry of the Batavi swam across the Weser to attack the center of the German line. Arminius had deployed his own cavalry where they could hit the attackers on their flank, and his plan paid off. The commander of the Batavi and many of his horsemen lost their lives. The fighting on the second day took place on the plain itself after the Roman troops and auxiliaries successfully crossed the river at a point not far from the Batavian crossing on day one. Once on dry land, the Roman army performed well. With minimal casualties, they slew numerous Germans. The battle’s denouement witnessed yet another flight to a river. And the results for the fleeing Germans were typically disastrous as they sought to escape by swimming the Weser. Many died as they were hit by Roman spears or swept under by the river’s current. As the panicked fighters massed on the riverbank, it collapsed and plunged them to their death.74 The Batavi contributed their swimming skills to the Roman conquest of Britain. In 43 CE the emperor Claudius made Aulus Plautius commander of an invading army. Upon landing, the Roman forces made steady progress until their advance halted at a river. The Britons mistakenly assumed that the Romans could not cross without a bridge and set up a poorly defended camp. According to Cassius Dio, Plautius exploited their miscalculation and sent across a contingent of “Celts” (Keltoi), who were accustomed to swim in full armor. The swimming troops fell upon the cavalier Britons, wounded the horses they used for their war chariots, and, in the ensuing melee, focused on killing noble warriors who fled on horseback. Behind that first wave, Plautius sent across troops led by Flavius Vespasian, the future emperor, and his brother Sabinus. Dio claimed that the Roman soldiers got across the river “in some way,” suggesting that he was skeptical that the Romans swam. Mark W. C. Hassall has argued that Dio’s Keltoi are the eight cohorts of Batavi that Plautius brought along because they had trained to cross large rivers. Greek authors commonly designated the Germans as Keltoi. The same forces in service to Plautius 73 Tac. Ann. 2.8 (Annals, 1931, 3:394). 74 Tac. Ann. 2.17.

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used their swimming to the benefit of the Romans during a skirmish at the Thames estuary. While the Britons knew the fords and used them to cross, the Keltoi pursued them by swimming over. Regular Roman legionaries crossed on a bridge.75 The Romans required two attempts separated by almost twenty years before they could conquer the island of Mona (Anglesey) off North Wales. In 58/59 CE Gaius Suetonius Paullinus prepared to attack the island. It had a large population and harbored refugees from all over Britain. To transport the infantry across the shallow but variable channel, Suetonius Paullinus assembled a flotilla of flat-bottomed boats. He intended for his cavalry to use fords or swim at the side of their horses in deeper water. Scholars believe that cavalry accustomed to swim alongside their horses were the Batavi. Because of the revolt led by Boudicca, Suetonius Paullinus had to abort the plan.76 Mona fell to the Roman forces under the command of Iulius Agricola in 78/79 CE. Agricola had little time to plan his expedition and found himself without ships.77 He therefore turned to unnamed auxiliaries because they knew the fords and had a hereditary knack for swimming (patrius nandi usus). So skilled were those auxiliaries that they could simultaneously control in the water their own movements, their weapons, and their horses. When Agricola committed those auxiliaries, the islanders were amazed that they made it over by swimming. They petitioned for peace and surrendered. Scholars again argue that the swimming auxiliaries were Batavi, though some question how the Batavi would be familiar with local fords giving access to the island of Mona. They may have studied the situation prior to the aborted invasion some twenty years earlier or questioned local defectors. The topography of the island of the Batavi, a strip of land hemmed in by two rivers and the North Sea, meant that their revolt required all involved in the fighting to swim. The nobleman and once Roman prefect Gaius Iulius Civilis led the rebels, while another noble member of the Batavi named Claudius Labeo abandoned the rebel cause to become a loyal ally of Rome. Early in his command, Labeo moved his levy of Bethasii, Tungri, and Nervi eastward, perhaps hoping to wrest back Cologne from the control of Civilis. That maneuver led to a battle between the two armies at a bridge over the Maas River. Both sides struggled to gain the advantage. The tide turned in Labeo’s favor when his Germans swam across the river and attacked the rebels’ rear. In desperation, 75 Cass. Dio 60.20.1–6 (Dio’s Roman History, 1924, 7:417–19); and Hassall, 131–32. The unnamed first river may be the Arun; see J. G. F. Hind. 76 Tac. Ann. 14.29. See, e.g., Birley, 2005, 43–50 (Gaius Suetonius Paullinus). 77 Tac. Agr. 18.3–5.

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Civilis rushed to the line of the Tungri, called on the spot for an alliance, and convinced the Tungri to surrender. Labeo barely managed to escape before he was surrounded.78 In the latter stages of the revolt, the fighting shifted to the lower Rhine. The two armies were separated by a marshy plain. Civilis continued to command the rebel forces, while Quintus Petillius Cerialis Rufus Senior had assumed command of the Roman forces. The complicated theater of war became even more complex when Civilis built a dam at an angle into the Rhine that directed water over the banks. That made the existing marsh deeper and larger. The flooding seemed a good strategy. It created swampy shallows that were unfamiliar. While the Romans were weighed down by equipment and “afraid of swimming,” the Batavi were lightly armed, tall enough to stand above the water, and accustomed to negotiating streams.79 The Batavi went on the offensive, and the Romans engaged them. However, panic set in among the Roman forces as the deepened marshes swallowed their arms and horses. The Batavi knew the shallow spots, used them to leap-frog across the waters, and attacked the Romans on their flanks and rear. Tacitus underlined the unusual character of the encounter, devoid of hand-to-hand combat. It seemed more like a naval battle as the Romans floundered in the varying depths of water. The injured and uninjured commingled; those who could swim were indistinguishable from those who could not. Cerialis won an important victory for Rome at Castra Vetera in the summer of 70 CE. The Romans had established that camp on the left bank of the Rhine near Colonia Ulpia Traiana (Xanten). It was besieged by the rebels of Civilis and capitulated early that year. By summer, the Romans sought to win it back. The first day of the battle proved favorable to the Batavi. Their height advantage and long spears allowed them to inflict wounds at a safe distance, and the Romans again struggled in the marshy terrain. The Batavi caused the Romans serious problems when they dictated the place of combat. In concert with the attack of the Batavi, a column of the Bructeri swam across the Rhine to support the assault. The fighting waned as the marshy conditions limited the effectiveness of both sides. The following day, the Batavi attacked the infantry and cavalry of the Roman auxiliaries arrayed on dry ground in the front line. As the auxiliaries absorbed the blow and fell back, Roman legionaries took up the fight and stemmed the advance of the Batavi. A spy revealed to Cerialis that there was a way to send cavalry along the edge of the marsh and get behind enemy lines. Cerialis took the suggestion and won the confrontation. 78 Tac. Hist. 4.66. 79 Tac. Hist. 5.14–18 (Histories, 1931, 3:198–207, quote on 201).

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Civilis, leader of the Batavi, abandons his horse and swims to safety

Desperate to prolong the struggle, Civilis planned a simultaneous attack on four Roman camps. He personally attacked the Roman auxiliary fort at Vada, situated, as the name implies, at a river ford. The first wave of the Batavi wiped out the elite Roman defenders. Cerialis arrived with a crack force of Roman cavalry to save the day. As Civilis tried to rally his fleeing troops, the Romans recognized the rebel commander and unleashed a barrage of weapons. Good Batavus that Civilis was, he abandoned his horse and swam across the Vacalis (Waal) River to safety. One other commander of the Batavi also swam, while two rode in boats.80 By the second century, the reputation of the Batavi as expert swimming cavalry was so consolidated that Roman authors may have extended the designation to any auxiliary horsemen who stood out for swimming. The epitome of Cassius Dio described an intimidating display that the Batavi offered under Hadrian. Dio highlighted the cavalry of the Batavi, “as they were called,” who swam fully armed across the Ister (Danube) River.81 When the barbarians on the opposite bank witnessed the feat, they abandoned hostilities with the

80 Tac. Hist. 5.21. 81 Cass. Dio 69 (Epitome).9.6 (Dio’s Roman History, 1925, 8:442–43).

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Empire. They decided to focus on their own internal disputes, which they invited Hadrian to arbitrate. From the time of Horatius Cocles to the public display by the Batavi, the Romans gauged a soldier’s swimming proficiency by whether he could swim while armed. The apology that the centurion offered to Caesar for losing his shield while swimming represented the flip side of the coin. An epitaph celebrating the bravest of the 1,000 Batavi serving Emperor Hadrian reiterated the criterion. The poem is conserved in an inscription and lists the prodigious feats of a soldier whose name may have been Soranus.82 Hadrian personally witnessed his exploits. The auxiliary swam across the Danube in a full set of arms and hit one arrow in mid-air with a second. Michael Speidel has proposed that outstanding auxiliary swimmers might have risked the extra weight of their arms because they could hold onto their horses in the water. He also proposed that those who served in the emperor’s horse guard, no matter their place of origin, were labeled Batavi because they were the best at swimming with arms. They comprised an elite strike force capable of intimidation simply by displaying the feats of which they were capable. That such a small force could prove alarming underlines yet again the advantage of nullifying the obstacle of rivers.83 A Roman sentry also made the Danube River the setting for a remarkable feat of swimming. In 172/173 CE, the soldier drew guard duty at night. When he heard a plea for help from fellow soldiers held captive on the opposite side, he immediately responded. He swam across the river “just as he was,” presumably meaning in armor. Upon reaching the other bank, he managed to release the captives. Then he returned by swimming and resumed guard duty. The characterization of the loyal swimmer could not be more generic: a soldier (stratiōtēs).84 Was he a Roman, a Batavus by birth, a Batavus by extension? We only know that he was a strong swimmer if he made it across the river and back at night fully armed. 6

Swimming Heroes Battle River Gods

From Achilles in Homer’s Iliad to Hippomedon in Statius’s Thebaid, modeled on Homer, epic heroes battled river deities.85 The confrontations symbol82 CIL 3.3676. 83 Cass. Dio 55.24.7–8 (Dio’s Roman History, 1917, 6:456–57). Speidel, 277–81 (with a translation of CIL 3.3676). 84 Cass. Dio 72 (Epitome).5.2. 85 See, e.g., Chaudhuri, 197–214.

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ize the stern challenge that the natural forces of rivers presented to ancient warriors. Book 21 of the Iliad is drenched in bloody rage as Achilles pursues the Trojans back to Troy. He drove one group to the plain before the city and forced others to run toward the Scamander (Menderes) River. Homer called the river Xanthus. The river deity was a son of Zeus, an ancestor of Priam, and a benefactor of Troy. Bands of Trojans threw themselves into the dangerous waters, shrieking loudly and struggling to swim as eddies spun them one way and another.86 Achilles leapt in and, using only his sword, slaughtered most of them. He ridiculed the Trojans for long sacrificing bulls and horses to a river god who failed to protect them.87 The taunting triggered a theomachy between Xanthus and Achilles. The river god gained the upper hand by inundating the Greek hero in water and mud. When Achilles could not swim to safety, Hera rescued him by having Hephaestus turn the river to fire. The river god yielded before an Olympian god.88 From the perspective of swimming, in the combat between Achilles and Xanthus, there was a marked disparity between valiant humanity and elemental nature. The swirling wave rose around Achilles, it pushed him back, and Achilles could not find a secure foothold on the riverbed. He seemed no match for the forces of the river, despite his physical strength and contemptuous attitude. Achilles even tried to use his shield to deflect the rising waters, a tactic popular with epic heroes. But he could not stem their rising nor swim through them.89 In the Aeneid Virgil dramatized two narrow escapes using a river for assistance. The first took place in the Tiber River and had as swimmer Turnus, mythical king of the Rutuli. His brother-in-law Numanus had reminded the newly arrived Trojans that, as children, the local peoples had been steeled in the river’s icy waters. That proved a good thing for Turnus, whose lust for blood led him to try and slaughter the Trojans singlehandedly. As his strength waned, he had to save himself by swimming in his armor. The Tiber in its reddish-yellow flood worked with the hero this time. It aided Turnus’s swimming by lifting him up on its buoyant waters, a welcome assist when swimming in armor. The second took place at the Amasenus (Amaseno) River, where Metabus, king of the Volscians, arrived in flight carrying his infant daughter Camilla. His pursuing rivals left him little time to decide on a plan. In full armor he had to confront the raging torrent. Seeing that the river overflowed its banks, Metabus decided not to swim while holding Camilla. That would put her life at risk. He encased Camilla in cork, tied her to the shaft of his spear, and, after praying to 86 87 88 89

Hom. Il. 21.1–16. Hom. Il. 21.35–135. Hom. Il. 21.136–99. See, e.g., Mackie, 492–98. Hom. Il. 21.233–382.

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Diana, hurled her across. The cork seems buffering and flotation if the spear fell in the water. Next, he leapt into the river, subdued the volume of its racing current, and swam to his daughter on the opposite bank.90 Statius laced with ominous notes the theomachy of Hippomedon and the river god Ismenus. Hippomedon chased his Theban opponents to the banks of the Boeotian Ismenus River. The waters flowed swiftly through a funneling channel, and still the desperate soldiers leapt in. So many crowded the bank that it collapsed under their weight. Once in the water, the soldiers sought ways to avoid the wrath of giant Hippomedon. Some threw off their helmets and ducked underwater. Statius compared them to a school of blue fish avoiding a dolphin by cowering in seaweed. When they came up to breathe, Hippomedon slew them. Others swam for it, but that did not work either. Their corselets and belts dragged them under. The Thebans were hardly heroic swimmers: they jettisoned their helmets, hid in cowardice on the bottom, and could not swim armed. By contrast, Hippomedon rode his horse into the midst of the river, leaving only his javelins behind. Among those whom Hippomedon butchered was Crenaeus, the grandson of the river god.91 That led to an asymmetrical confrontation between human being and river deities. There was no Olympian deus ex machina to rescue Hippomedon. Initially, Hippomedon borrowed a page from Achilles in the Iliad and Scipio in the Punica. He repelled the force of the river’s water with his shield. But then he took his imitation of Achilles too far and began to taunt the river god as unmanly. An infuriated Ismenus enlisted the aid of his brother Asopus, and both arrived in flood stage. That left Hippomedon fighting mighty rivers whose strength was greater than ever. Ismenus crushed Hippomedon under colossal waters. The giant hero, cut down to size, lamented that he had to suffer an ignominious death by drowning. Adding insult to (fatal) injury, the Thebans regrouped and hurled rocks and spears at their once awesome antagonist.92 The epic record of river aristeia was not univocal. Epic heroes were celebrated for virtues that made them worthy of emulation. Swimming was one such art. But the heroes were not entirely self-reliant when they had to swim. In keeping with ancient votive practice, they called upon a protective deity, claimed that they deserved to be heard, and petitioned to be kept safe. They made a promise to do something in gratitude to a god or goddess who 90 Verg. Aen. 9.815–18, 11.547–66. See, e.g., Gransden, 120–24, 151, 189–90. 91 Stat. Theb. 9.225–51 (Thebaid, 2004, 2:76–77). 92 Stat. Theb. 9.252–539. See, e.g., McNelis, 135–37.

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responded to their wish. Still, the rivers and seas of the ancient world were environments where divine forces might prove victorious. Men and women, even the heroes among them, entered those settings at their own risk and often had to fight to survive. Water was a constituent element of the ancient world, but it was not man’s natural element.

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The End of the Ancient Tradition and Nonnus of Panopolis Why is he afraid to dip his toe in the yellow Tiber? Why does he shy away from olive oil more nervously than if it were viper’s blood? Why does he no longer have arms that are black and blue from weapons – he who has often won fame by throwing the discus or the javelin beyond the mark? Horace Carm. 1.8.8–121

∵ Until late antiquity, Greek and Roman sources supplied little information about swim training for their citizen rowers and military recruits. If accounts of an incident in the war between the Carthaginians and Dionysius I of Syracuse are credible, some soldiers in antiquity achieved a high level of proficiency. When the Carthaginians attacked Messina in 396 BCE and forced the garrison to flee, of those who attempted to swim across the Straits of Messina, 50 of 200 (25 percent) reportedly succeeded.2 The poets credited Roman youth with incorporating swimming as a part of a broader exercise program for military preparedness. Unfazed by the Tiber’s yellow tinge, the vigorous athletes went directly from workouts on the Campus Martius to a swim in the river.3 Scholars contend that the feats which Scipio Africanus demonstrated before Campanian trainees represented standard exercises in Republican training. Silius Italicus may also have wished to underline that Scipio possessed the extraordinary military prowess of an epic hero. Scipio threw stakes and vaulted over ditches, which are teachable. He also outran a horse, tossed stones and spears out of camp, and swam through high surf in his breastplate.4 There 1 Odes and Epodes, 2004, 41. 2 Diod. Sic. 14.57.4–5. 3 See, e.g., Hor. Carm. 3.7.22–28, 3.12.4–12; and Ov. Ars am. 3.381–86. Verg. Aen. 7.31, 9.816 for the reddish-yellow Tiber. 4 Sil. Pun. 8.546–61. See, e.g., Marks, 124; and E. Hall, 259.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_009

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seem risks in drilling new inductees in that way. The breastplate weighed the soldier down as he strove to hold himself up. Because the Greeks and Romans concurred that one should learn to swim while learning grammar, military commanders may have presumed that new recruits already possessed the skill. Plautus insisted that reed floats were to serve boys, not young men of military age.5 When Horace described the effects of the infatuation of Sybaris for Lydia, he illustrated the sort of exercise program that helped prepare Roman adolescents for military service. Sybaris had given up all for her, particularly his customary workouts on the Campus Martius. He no longer engaged in horseback riding, whether cavalry exercises with his friends or breaking an unruly Gallic steed. He no longer wrestled, treating olive oil like poisonous snake’s blood. His arms were no longer black and blue from blows absorbed while practicing with fake weapons. He no longer threw the javelin or tossed the discus, competitions he used to win regularly. And he no longer dipped even a toe into the reddish-yellow Tiber, a place where he used to love to swim. He had withdrawn from all exercising applicable to military campaigning.6 1

Vegetius on Training

The only explicit tie between military training and swimming comes from the fourth-century manual on the Roman armed forces, the Epitoma rei militaris of Publius Vegetius Renatus. A bureaucrat in the imperial treasury, Vegetius had no military career of his own. His four books cover recruitment and drilling, the legion as a fighting unit, strategy and tactics for land battles, methods of besieging cities, and naval warfare. Throughout, Vegetius employed earlier sources and revealed his nostalgia for what he deemed the golden era of the Roman military. Opportunities for drilling recruits increased when Augustus stationed almost all the legions along the frontiers. A field commander could impose standard discipline, and the soldiers had down time to exercise. When promoting rigorous training, Vegetius included swimming as an essential skill. He advocated that all recruits, whether infantry or cavalry or military servants allowed to wear a helmet (galearii), learn to swim. Vegetius’s position was

5 Plaut. Aulularia 592–98. 6 Hor. Carm. 1.8.4–8. See, e.g., Santirocco, 36–41.

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clear, but the sources on Roman military preparation that led him to encourage every soldier to swim are less clear.7 Vegetius described an ideal program for drilling new recruits. They should make forced marches in heavy equipment and be instructed in the use of bows, javelins, slings, and swords. Recruits began by practicing with wooden swords and wicker shields, sometimes under the tutelage of trustworthy gladiators. They would graduate to drills using real arms. Among athletic activities soldiers needed to run, vault, and swim. Once taught swimming, recruits should practice it all summer long. He emphasized universal mastery because armies could not always get across rivers in boats, whether they were retreating from a victorious enemy or pursuing a vanquished one. Sudden rains or snows caused torrents to overflow their banks. Ignorance of swimming meant that the flooding waters and a relentless enemy put the legions in jeopardy. That explained why the ancient Romans trained on the Field of Mars. Soldiers went from practicing with weapons and working up a sweat to swimming in the river nearby and cooling down as they cleaned up. While on campaign and not fighting, swimming was one of several activities worthy of daily practice. Vegetius proposed a rigorous regimen. He specified marching through thorn-bushes and up steep terrain, cutting a path through wilderness, digging a ditch, and seizing any sort of enemy position. Swimming for Vegetius was an integral part of that training. It relaxed muscles weary from marching. Soldiers should swim in both the sea and rivers. In an army recruited from a vast empire, constant activity for Vegetius inhibited mutinous plotting. In good weather, the soldiers in camp should practice archery, artillery, slinging or throwing stones, donning armor, and sword play. Whenever near the sea or a river in warm weather, they should be ordered to swim. 2

Late Antique Poets and Historians on Military Swimming

Scholars have pointed out that Vegetius used sources from an earlier era and advocated a return to the military practices of the early Empire. He was describing military preparation as he wanted it to be, not as it was practiced in the late fourth and early fifth centuries. Mention of military swimming in late antique sources affords a way to test whether Roman recruits received the training that Vegetius endorsed. Sidonius Apollinaris wrote a poetic 7 Veg. Mil. 1.3, 10; 2.23; 3.4. Vegetius wrote the treatise after 383, and it was finished before 450. See, e.g., Brandt, “Vegetius,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/; Southern, 30, 135–37; and Bannard, 486–87, 492–94.

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panegyric for the assumption of the consulate by the Western emperor Avitus on 1 January 456. Avitus was father-in-law to Sidonius. Speaking soon after the Vandal sack, Sidonius imagined Jupiter describing why a Gaul like Avitus will serve the Romans well as military commander. Avitus combined in one person the martial proficiencies of several barbarian tribes.8 He had the running speed of a Herulian, the ability to hurl the javelin of a Hun, the dexterity in wielding a shield of the Sarmatians, the stamina for marching of a Salian, and the athleticism for brandishing a scimitar of a Gelonian. Avitus likewise had the swimming facility of a Frank.9 The weapons training and athletic skills valued by Vegetius and Sidonius are similar (javelin and shield, running and marching and swimming), but the context has changed. Roman emperors measure themselves against all sorts of barbarians, and the German Franks epitomize skilled swimming. Battle narratives in late antique histories do not present all Roman recruits knowing how to swim nor all barbarians doomed to drown.10 In a panegyric to honor Constantius II, Julian recalled the successful defense of Nisibis by the Romans under Count Lucillianus. In 350 the Persian king Shapur (Sapor) II besieged the city for the third time. To force the Romans to capitulate, Shapur exploited the unusually high waters of the Mygdonius (Çakçak Deresı) River, swollen by melting snow and running over its banks. Shapur had his soldiers build embankments to hold in the overflow and create an artificial lake around Nisibis. He mounted siege engines on boats, and he blasted an opening in the city’s walls. But the Romans quickly filled the breach. Julian observed that, the barbarians, slaying not, were slain in multiple ways when the Romans counterattacked. The defenders hurled down fire onto the siege engines and soldiers’ shields, driving those not immolated into the water. Some Persians met their deaths while trying to swim away, hit in the back by Roman missiles. Others who jumped from the siege engines were pierced in mid-air. A final group of Persians, more traditional barbarians who did not know how to swim, “perished more obscurely.”11 The moment of death underwater was not visible. Ammianus Marcellinus described allies and enemies of Rome struggling before the barrier presented by a river. In 354 a raiding party of Isauri reached the Melas (Manavgat Çayï) River and stopped there overnight. At sunrise, the Isauri discovered that the stream was narrow but too deep to ford. As they 8 Stat. Achil. 2.129–36 has Achilles learning in a similar way (Achilleid, 2004, 395). 9 Sid. Apoll. Carm. 2.7.233–40. See, e.g., Watson, 183–85. 10 See, e.g., P. de Jonge. Ammianus was a professional soldier and served in the army of Julian. 11 Julian. Or. 1.27c–28a (Orations 1–5, 1913, 71). See, e.g., Harrel, 82–84; and Neusner, 6–7.

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searched for fishing boats and assembled wickerwork floats, the Roman garrison from Side suddenly attacked from the rear. On the opposite bank Roman legions massed to await their crossing. Some Isauri tried to sneak across the river by swimming or using dugout canoes. But the waiting Romans had no difficulty in picking them off.12 In 357, Roman auxiliaries under Bainobaudes managed to reach islands in the Rhine where the Alamanni had taken refuge. The light-armed troops crossed to an island by wading over or swimming on shields. The auxiliaries butchered every living person there, found some empty boats, and used those craft for transport to handle the rest of the Alamanni. Even in water shallow enough for wading, according to Ammianus, the Roman auxiliaries used shield-rafts if they elected to swim.13 Ammianus and Libanius described German survivors swimming in the Rhine River after the battle of Strasbourg. The battle ended in such a bloody tableau that Ammianus likened it to a theater spectacle. As the Germans fled toward the overflowing river, Julian knew that his own troops might trust too confidently in their swimming expertise (nandi peritia). He ordered them not to pursue the Germans into the raging waters. The Romans stood on the high banks and unleashed a torrent of missiles. If any German outran the barrage and reached the river, his weighty equipment pulled him under. The rest were sitting ducks. Germans who did not know how to swim clung to the good swimmers, while others left behind by faster swimmers floated like logs. The swift current swept many away. Only those supported by shieldrafts avoided the worst of the river’s chop by frequently changing course. They managed to reach the opposite bank. The Rhine ran red “with barbarian blood” (cruore barbarico).14 Libanius said that the vast number of bodies of those who drowned because they did not know how to swim obscured sight of the water. Well downstream, the Germans got the grim news of defeat as the bodies of their compatriots drifted past.15 Ammianus modeled on Julian at Strasbourg his account of the victory of Constantius II over the Limigantes in 358. He used the same language of swimming expertise (nandi peritia), but this time he attributed the skill to Rome’s barbarian enemy. The Limigantes were slaves who had rebelled against their Sarmatian overlords early in the fourth century. After the Romans defeated their army, they slaughtered many villagers. Those who escaped plunged into a neighboring river, hoping that their mastery of 12 Amm. Marc. 14.2.9–10. See, e.g., Hopwood, 226–29. 13 Amm. Marc. 16.11.8–9. Libanius simply affirmed that the Roman troops made their way to the islands by swimming or in boats. Lib. 18.45. 14 Amm. Marc. 16.12.55–57 (History, 1950, 1:292–95). 15 Lib. 18.60.

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swimming would allow them to reach the opposite bank. But that hope was largely in vain. Many lost their lives by drowning, and some succumbed to Roman missiles. Once again, so many died that the immense river frothed with blood.16 For cloak and dagger intrigue, Ammianus supplied the story of Antoninus, a merchant and mid-level commander (protector) who defected from Rome to Persia in the winter of 358/359. Severe exactions imposed by greedy Roman officials had drained his resources, but he found himself treated respectfully by the Persians. Antoninus prepared for his defection by compiling information on Roman military resources and operational plans. Then, he bought a farm along the Tigris River at Iapsis. That allowed him to move to the border in winter without arousing suspicion. From the farm he utilized friends skilled in swimming (nandi peritia) to make secret contact with the local Persian military governor, Tamsapor. The information on the Roman forces of Constantius II that Antoninus possessed convinced Tamsapor to aid his defection. Men from the Persian camp crossed over the Tigris, Antoninus and his household boarded their boats in the dead of night, and the Persians ferried them over to the territory of the Great King Shapur II.17 The massive military expedition that Julian mounted in the spring and summer of 363 involved swimming by both Roman and Persian forces. Julian first crossed the Euphrates River with his main army and marched down the left bank. He shielded the army’s right flank with a river fleet of 1,000 supply and siege ships escorted by 50 war galleys. After preliminary victories along the Euphrates, Julian had his army move along the south bank of the Naarmalcha (Royal) Canal, a major waterway linking the Euphrates and Tigris rivers. At the Tigris, Julian reached his goal, the Persian capital of Ctesiphon on the east bank. If Ctesiphon fell, Julian would complete a conquest that Trajan had only begun and Alexander alone had finished. Multiple historians conserve accounts of skirmishes and battles involving swimmers. Ammianus Marcellinus expounded the progress and failure of Julian’s brief campaign as the stuff of epic. The soldier turned historian had to camouflage Julian’s defeat by praising his steady advance until he succumbed to a sudden wound at night. Ammianus laid ultimate blame on divinely ordained fate. Julian misread the signs and omens that might have warned him of future failure.18 A flooded waterway saved Rome’s ally, the renegade Persian Prince Hormisdas (Hormizd), from an ambush planned by Shapur II’s supreme 16 Amm. Marc. 17.13.15 (History, 1950, 1:388–89). See, e.g., Kelly, 301–03. 17 Amm. Marc. 18.5.3 (History, 1950, 1:428–29). See, e.g., Seager, 159–62. 18 See, e.g., Bowersock, 106–19; and R. Smith, 89–92.

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military commander, the Surena. The waterway was possibly an irrigation canal tied to the Euphrates River. Surprised that he was not meeting greater resistance, Julian had sent Hormisdas ahead of his main army. The Surena planned to ambush that separated detachment, but his cavalry could not ford the waterway because its depth varied so unpredictably. On the day of the attack, the water in the canal suddenly rose. The next day, Hormisdas killed many of the Surena’s troops, put others to flight, and took into his army those who surrendered.19 Shortly thereafter, Julian’s forces arrived at the juncture between the Euphrates and the Naarmalcha. The Naarmalcha had a muddy bed and water too deep to ford. At that moment, the Persians appeared on the opposite bank. They stood ready to launch darts and stones. Julian sent an officer named Lucillianus with the advance scouting party assigned to him to attack the Persians from the rear. Exploiting the diversion, Julian planned to get his main army over the canal. The Persians ignored Lucillianus and remained massed along the canal. Julian therefore ordered Count Victor to move well to the east under cover of darkness, cross over the waterway, and find Lucillianus. The united forces would again attack the rear of the Persian lines. In the meantime, Julian set up a pontoon bridge on boats and sent his light infantry across the bridge to halt the missile attack the Persians unleashed on Julian’s swimming cavalry. Julian’s baggage train crossed the canal at a different location, where a bend in the channel slowed the current and permitted fording.20 Julian had now reached the banks of the Tigris River opposite Ctesiphon. He devised a plan so bold that his own generals opposed it. Informed by scouts that the Persians had encamped outside the city along the opposite bank, Julian decided on a surprise crossing and attack at night. He unloaded several transports from his river fleet so that they could ferry soldiers across the Tigris. The first wave was met by a hail of Persian missiles. Julian ordered the rest of his fleet to cross immediately. The soldiers who were not given a place on the ships panicked, launched themselves into the river on their shields, and somehow managed to keep up with the boats. Their success led Ammianus to draw a comparison between their accomplishment and the exploit of Sertorius in swimming the Rhône with arms and armor.21 Sertorius the retreating Roman champion swimming the Rhône unaided in full armor outshone the frightened attackers who used their shield-rafts to cross the Tigris. Although Julian’s assault established a beachhead, his soldiers did not press their advantage. 19 Amm. Marc. 24.2.4; and Zos. 3.15.4–6. See, e.g., Boeft et al., 36–39. 20 Amm. Marc. 24.2.7–8. Zos. 3.16. See, e.g., Boeft et al., 41–48. 21 Amm. Marc. 24.6.4–7, citing Plut. Vit. Sert. 3.1.

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They paused to pillage the Persian camp. Julian failed to capture Ctesiphon, and, a few weeks later, he incurred a fatal spear wound during a nighttime skirmish. Julian’s troops chose Jovian (r. 363–64) to replace him. Jovian decided to withdraw from Persia and end the war against Shapur II. During the retreat, Jovian hesitated to attempt a crossing of the Tigris. The river was in flood stage, Arab allies of the Persians were roaming the opposite bank, and many of his soldiers were without experience in swimming (nandi imperiti). They apparently bypassed the basic training that Vegetius considered traditional. Pressed by his soldiers, who were anxious to leave Persia, Jovian decided on a trial run by his Gauls and Germans. If those auxiliaries succeeded in swimming across, Jovian would allow the others to do so. If they were swept away by the Tigris, he could point to their fate in order to quell the festering mutiny. The new emperor chose the Gauls and Germans because, from early boyhood, they were taught (instituti) to traverse rivers whereas many Romans could not swim. Awaiting nighttime, the auxiliaries surprised everyone as they sped across as if racing each other. They killed several sentinels who had dozed off. Then they signaled that the crossing had succeeded. But because so many of his troops lacked experience swimming, Jovian prepared a pontoon bridge supported by inflated bladders sewn from animal hides.22 The makeshift bridging of the Tigris did not end the problems the river presented. Most of the Roman army still had to cross, and they were low on supplies. Some soldiers, racked by hunger, mutinied. The deserters attempted to cross on their own but those without experience in swimming (nandi imperitia) drowned. Others who overcame the force of the current and reached the opposite bank were either killed by Persians and their Arab allies or captured and taken to be sold as slaves. The disciplined remainder of Jovian’s army waited until trumpet blasts indicated that they should proceed. In their haste to save themselves, the soldiers charged into the stream. It was every man for himself. Some used makeshift rafts, some held onto their horses and swam, some sat on inflated skins and paddled for safety, and still others devised different aids for the crossing. All attempted to diminish the effect of the river’s current by advancing at an angle to the waves. Jovian and select companions traveled in the few boats that remained after the order to burn the fleet.23 Ammianus saw the battle of Adrianople in 378 as the watershed moment for Roman imperial rule. The emperor Valens confronted an army of the Tervingian Goths and lost both the battle and his life. He paid dearly for his 22 Amm. Marc. 25.6.11–14 (History, 1940, 2:526–29). See, e.g., Speidel, 281–82. 23 Amm. Marc. 25.8.1–3 (History, 1940, 2:536–39).

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decision in 376 to allow the Tervingi to cross the Danube and settle in Roman territory. The Tervingi had abandoned their homeland when the Huns swept in, and Valens sent officials to oversee their transport across the river. For Ammianus it was a suicidal choice. “iligent care was taken that no future destroyer of the Roman state should be left behind.”24 The Romans used boats, rafts, and dugouts to ferry the Tervingi into imperial territory. Ammianus rated the Danube under normal circumstances the most dangerous of all rivers. At the time of the crossing, matters were worse because frequent rains had swollen its volume. Given the massive number of Goths attempting to escape the Huns, some gave up on waiting for the transport vessels and tried to swim over. A good many drowned in the powerful currents. Ammianus did not attribute their demise to a lack of swimming expertise. The theater for military swimming shifted to the pressured frontiers of the Empire itself. In 386, for example, Flavius Promotus, the Roman commander for Thrace, used German-speaking spies to defeat the Greuthungi under Odotheus. The spies bribed followers of Odotheus to reveal his plan for a night invasion across the Danube River. On the evening of the attack Promotus arranged the ships of his fleet in three lines along the riverbank. The weather contributed to the good fortune of the Romans. The night was dark and without moonlight. The unsuspecting barbarians set out to cross the Danube on hastily assembled rafts. They presumed that they would reach the Roman side unopposed. Instead, at a prearranged signal, the Romans rowed their waiting liburnians against the rafts of the Greuthungi and spilled in mid-stream every one they encountered. Weighed down by heavy arms, not one of those Goths survived by swimming. The rafts that made it past the Roman attackers ran up against the lines of galleys guarding the shore. The river was now clogged by dead bodies and arms, but a few Greuthungi managed to swim to shore. Roving Roman patrols completed the slaughter.25 In such troubled times, panegyrists of the emperors applauded a return to the rigorous drilling and selfless heroism of archaic Rome. Swimming was one of the requisite skills. Claudian commended Theodosius for attending to the instruction of his son Honorius (384–423). Once Honorius could walk, his father kept him from “time-wasting slumbers” by exercising his body and inuring his spirit to hardship.26 He climbed mountains, sprinted over plains, vaulted ravines, and swam roaring torrents. As child-emperor in 393, Honorius continued to practice the arts of war. To be a true soldier, he had to train with weapons, as his soldiers did, and share their hardships. Honorius therefore 24 Amm. Marc. 31.4.5 (History, 1939, 3:403). See, e.g., Heather, 145–54, 158–67, 188; and Ratti. 25 Zos. 4.38–39. 26 Claud. 3 Cons. Hon. 38–50 (Panegyric on the Third Consulship of Honorius, 1922, 273).

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could hurl a spear on horseback, launch a javelin, and shoot a bow. Theodosius urged him to be the first to climb a steep hill, hack down trees, test a marsh on horseback, traverse a frozen river, or swim a flooded one.27 Claudian had Honorius himself extol his father-in-law and guardian Stilicho, master of the soldiers and master swimmer. In February 402 Stilicho came to the rescue of Honorius when the Visigoths under Alaric attacked Liguria and besieged the imperial army at Milan. Stilicho reached the Adda (Addua) River at night and found that Alaric controlled the bridge separating him from the emperor. Calculating that he could neither delay nor attack the bridge with so small a force, Stilicho flashed like lightning through the Visigothic encampment. His boldness raised the siege. Claudian did not clarify if he rode over the bridge or swam across the icy river on horseback. In favor of swimming, Claudian spoke of the Adda plowed by Stilicho and compared him to Horatius Cocles. Stilicho surpassed that legendary Roman swimmer because, while Horatius turned his back to swim away, Stilicho faced his adversaries to rush past them.28 The tradition of swimming rescuers lived on into the Gothic Wars in Italy. In 538, Belisarius, supreme commander of the Byzantine armies, learned that thousands of Ostrogoths and Burgundians were besieging a small garrison holding Milan. He therefore sent a relief force under the command of Martin and Uliaris. When that force reached the Po River a day’s journey from Milan, the generals saw no reliable way to cross over. They built a camp on the south bank of the river. As Martin and Uliaris prevaricated, using the crossing as an excuse, word reached Mundilas, the besieged commander in Milan. Mundilas sent a messenger named Paulus to confront the timid commanders. Paulus managed to slip through the Gothic lines undetected and reached the Po. With no boat available, he removed his clothing and risked the swim across. Having made his point, Paulus was sent back to Mundilas with the assurance that Martin and Uliaris would act quickly. Paulus again swam the Po River under cover of darkness.29 3

A Shift in Mood: Ausonius and Erotic Aquatics

The late antique poet Ausonius portrayed nymphs and satyrs who frolicked in the waters of the Moselle River. He placed their midday romp in a Bacchic context of vine foliage and known associates of the wine-god. The nymphs and 27 Claud. 4 Cons. Hon. 337–52, 523–45. See, e.g., McEvoy, 162–65. 28 Claud. 6 Cons. Hon. 441–90. See, e.g., Ware, 42–44. 29 Procop. Goth. 6.21.1–5, 27–42. See, e.g., Bury, 2:202–04.

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satyrs had the river to themselves. Potential gawkers had taken refuge in cool shade elsewhere. But by including the description in his poem, he made his readers chance voyeurs. Ausonius distinguished the nymphs from the satyrs. The former were at home in the water and swam skillfully; the latter were at home on land and did not swim well. Those habituated to life on land needed training in the art. Whenever the satyrs tried to clasp the nymphs, the nymphs frustrated their lascivious intent by dunking them. Ausonius used the same expression for the inept swimming satyrs (rudes natandi) that Statius had earlier used for Pan alone (nandi rudis).30 4

Nonnus and the Celebration of Erotic Aquatics

Bacchic ambience, voyeuristic verse, and erotic aquatics typify the epic poem of Nonnus of Panopolis entitled Dionysiaca. The sprawling story is a tour de force, and its depiction of swimming and free-diving recapitulates essential emphases.31 Written in Alexandria, likely in the middle of the fifth century, the poem is the longest epic to survive from antiquity. The heart of the account (books 13–40) describes the expedition of Dionysus and his satyrs to India.32 When Nonnus described Semele entering the Asopus River near Thebes, he declared that swimming was an art (technē) which the mother of Dionysus knew well. Semele moved through the water with a stroke that was steady and powerful. Nonnus broke apart the stroke into the action of the hands, the position of the body, and the movement of the legs. He characterized Semele as moving her hands like oars in a rowing motion (cheiras eretmōsasa), keeping her head above the stream, and stepping on the water with alternate feet to push it behind her. Scholars have tried to identify the stroke Nonnus portrayed. As one would expect for epic poetry, the expressions for the parts of the stroke, particularly the hands (arms), are formulaic. There are at least eight further instances where Nonnus characterized the swimmer’s hands moving like oars in a rowing motion: in reference to satyrs, to Dionysus (twice), to Calamus and Carpus during their race, to Carpus alone, to the old Silens, to Aphrodite, and to Zeus as he imagines taking the form of a bull again.33 Nonnus only once described 30 Auson. Mos. 169–88, esp. 183 (Moselle, 1919, 1:238); and Stat. Silv. 2.4.37 (Silvae, 2015, 118). See, e.g., R. Taylor, 181–83, 191–94, 202–03. 31 See, e.g., Kröll, 71–74, 94–97. 32 See, e.g., Fornaro, “Nonnus,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. 33 Nonnus Dion. 7.184–89 (for Semele), 10.150 for the satyrs (chersin eressōn), 10.170 for Dionysus (cheiras eretmōsas), 11.49 for Dionysus (cheiras eressōn), 11.415 for Calamus

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the hands moving differently in the water, when Dionysus let the young satyr Ampelus pass him to win a race. In that case, the poet described Dionysus as moving his palms round and round as though he were tired. While Nicole Kröll interpreted that motion as referring to breaststroke, I see it in context as referring to sculling with the hands while treading water.34 In addition to the analogy of a rowing motion with the arms, Nonnus explained the body position and leg motion. He characterized the body position of Semele as stretching her head well above the water, so it did not get wet; only the lower portion of her hair was immersed. She therefore breasted the surface as she swam. Nonnus likewise characterized Dionysus as pushing his bare breast against the stream. Carpus died tragically during his race even though he had lifted his head and neck above the surface. A powerful gust sent a wave crashing over his face. The poet depicted the body position of Aphrodite as resting her bosom upon the sea. Nonnus offered little detail about the swimming motion of the legs. He said that Semele’s feet stepped upon the water alternately in order to push it back, that Dionysus moved his feet, and that the old Silens paddled with feet and hands. The description of Aphrodite using her legs mirrors that of Semele as she pushed water behind her with successive thrusts of her feet. Scholars have not reached a consensus on the overall stroke that Nonnus described. Fabio Maniscalco and Nicole Kröll argued for front crawl. For Maniscalco, an alternating movement of the feet fits the flutter kick of front crawl, though he admits that keeping the head above water is not good technique. For Kröll, the description of the hands rowing establishes that the stroke was front crawl. On the other hand, H. A. Harris leaned toward breaststroke, favoring the evidence of Semele “plying her hands like oars.”35 Harris acknowledged that the leg motion, alternate thrusting of the feet, better suits front crawl. Perhaps the most helpful comment that Harris offered was his sense that accurate observation was not Nonnus’s forte. Carelessness could explain mixing the arm movement of the breaststroke and the leg movement of front crawl or even a dog paddle. The description of arms operating like oars in a rowing motion is more suited to breaststroke. The body position with head constantly out of the water and breasts pushing against the water also fits a and Carpus (eressomenōn palamaōn), 11.420 for Carpus (cheiras eressōn), 23.161 for the Silens (kai posi kai palamēisin eretmōsantes), 41.112 for Aphrodite, matching Semele and Dionysus (cheiras eretmōsasa), 41.240 for Zeus (di’hydato ichnos eressōn). See, e.g., D’Ippolito, 2016. 34 Kröll, 78. 35 Nonnus Dion. 7.184–89 (my translation). Maniscalco, 151n60; and Kröll, 78. See also H. A. Harris, 122.

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beginner’s breaststroke or a dog paddle. The leg motion of treading alternately and impressing a footprint on the water as it is pushed behind fits dog paddle well and front crawl less well. To summarize, Nonnus may describe a front crawl (Maniscalco, Kröll), he may describe a breaststroke, particularly for the arms and body position (Harris, McManamon), he may describe a hybrid stroke that swimmers of late antiquity developed in contrast to modern practice, or he may describe inaccurately what he observed from shore when he watched others swim. The heart of the epic focused on heroic actions in warfare, but Nonnus rarely depicted swimming in a military context. During the Indian expedition, he did incorporate the traditional scene of a hero battling a river. He had Aeacus fighting the Hydaspes. The Iliad allusion is clear: Aeacus was both the son of Zeus and the grandfather of Achilles. He chased the Indians along the banks of the flooding Hydaspes.36 As Aeacus slashed furiously with his sword, many Indians finished in the river where they stretched their legs and arms in the manner of one swimming. But they did not move their hands properly and soon found a tomb afloat. Dionysus then joined Aeacus in the fight, and together they found a variety of ways to dispatch their swimming foes. If an Indian was swimming on his shield, the two heroes stabbed him in the back. If an Indian was fighting from a position half submerged, the two heroes pierced him through his exposed breast or neck. Nonnus offered multiple accounts of swimmers racing in rivers. Nonnus borrowed much of the vocabulary he used to describe swim competitions from foot and chariot racing on land. He contrived a swimming contest to complete the competition between Dionysus and his favorite satyr, Ampelus. A swim race was not part of the traditional games described in Homeric or later poems. To highlight the novelty of Dionysus and Ampelus competing in that fashion, Nonnus added mirroring races between Calamus and Carpus.37 Dionysus vied with Ampelus in the water after the two had run a foot race and wrestled. The contest took place in the Pactolus (Sart Çayi) River in Lydia, opulent for the gold dust that washed out at its source. Dionysus challenged Ampelus to show that he was more adept in the water. As Ausonius illustrated, satyrs made poor swimmers. The course followed a zigzag path, a fun way to meet the test and a prudent way to deal with the current. Dionysus first employed a steady stroke, pushing his breast against the stream, moving his feet, and using his hands like oars. To allow his youthful competitor to win,

36 Nonnus Dion. 23.1–26. See, e.g., Verhelst, 156–58. 37 See, e.g., Kröll, 74–94; Hadjittofi, 148–49; Geisz, 186–87; and Bannert and Kröll, 500–01.

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Dionysus pretended to be tired and moved his hands round and round in a way that suggests he paused to tread water. As planned, Ampelus took the gold.38 The parallel contest between Calamus and Carpus featured a swimming course laid out like a chariot race in the circus. The swimmers went out along one bank, reached a turning point, crossed to the other bank, reached another turning point, and headed back to the start. The poem twice indicated that the swimmers used their hands like oars, the key to propulsion. Calamus tried to assure that Carpus win and would have succeeded if a strong gust had not hit the river. The resulting wave poured into the open mouth of Carpus. He swallowed so much water so quickly that he drowned. Somehow, swimming on the same river at the same time, Calamus managed to avoid the effects of the gust. Disconsolate, he took his own life.39 Nonnus used the image of a maiden swimming to suggest the appearance of Tyre’s position on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. The feet of swimming Tyre rested upon Mother Earth, her body extended into the water and was whitened by the foam of the sea, caressing her as she was splayed out on the rolling waters. Her head, neck, and breasts were given over to the sea, and she stretched her arms underwater in two places to create the natural harbor. The emphases reflect the eroticism that Nonnus imparted when he depicted his characters in water. When swimming, the human body was sensual. Nonnus used the skill to emphasize the aesthetics of Tyre’s natural setting. In other instances of swimming, Nonnus added an element of voyeurism.40 Robert Schmiel has cataloged the episodes where a male voyeur observes a female immersed in water.41 While her female companion Hekaerge swam in a calm stream, Artemis used its waters to wash away the dust and grime of the hunt. Despite a prohibition not to look at the Archeress, Actaeon (Actaion) climbed a tree to survey her body until he was spotted by a Naiad. The freshwater nymph cried out to warn the women in the water. Hekaerge halted in her stroke, while the modest Artemis used her clothing and the water as a shield. Zeus gazed on the naked body of Persephone (Persephoneia) as she took refuge from the midday heat and floated on the running waters of a cool stream, her gleaming skin moistened by the refreshing bath.42 Zeus turned himself into an 38 39 40 41

Nonnus Dion. 11.7–55. See, e.g., Kaletsch, “Pactolus,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. Nonnus Dion. 11.404–31. Nonnus Dion. 40.311–26. See, e.g., Hadjittofi, “Major Themes and Motifs,” 143–51. Schmiel, 1993, 480–82. Schmiel listed two other scenes that are erotic without devolving to voyeurism: the marine orgy of the satyrs and nymphs after the first vintage of wine (12.363–93), and the understated homoeroticism of the swimming race between Dionysus and Ampelus (11.7–55, 244–48). See also Newbold, 2008, 71–80, 88–91. 42 Nonnus Dion. 5.304–15, 476–93 (Actaeon), 5.586–621 (Zeus).

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eagle and used its flying ability and eagle eyes to scrutinize the naked body of Semele as she swam. He contemplated her rosy fingers, her face, and her eyes. As the wind blew her hair aside, Zeus admired the exposed nape of her neck. Above all, eagle-eyed Zeus zoomed in on Semele’s bosom. It did prove helpful that the preferred swimming stroke for Nonnus had the swimmer meeting the waters at the breasts. “The mind of Zeus left the skies and crept down to swim beside swimming Semele (nēchomenēi … sunenēcheto).”43 Dionysus aped his father Zeus and made the nymph Nicaea his first target. Nicaea was bathing under a mountain waterfall to wash away the sweat from hunting. Dionysus spied her swimming (nēchomenēn) and zeroed in on the clustering of her curly hair fanned by the breeze.44 Dionysus perked up when the breeze blew her locks aside to reveal her neck gleaming brightly like the full moon. She hurried on in her fluid stroke. When Helios fixed his gaze on the Naiad Clymene, most attractive as she swam (nēcheto), she too gleamed like the full moon in the water.45 Aphrodite swam to Beroë (Beirut) after her remarkable birth in the foaming sea. Her stroke in the water reflected a formula that Nonnus had perfected. She swam resting her bosom on the sea, imprinted the silent brine with her feet, and kept her body afloat. Nonnus was more graphic about the way that Aphrodite dressed, or undressed, for the swim. She rubbed her skin with bunches of seaweed so that it took on a more purple hue. And Aphrodite did not swim entirely naked: she wore an embroidered belt around her loins, her charmed cestus.46 Artemis opened the listing of female maidens scrutinized by men, and she closed it scrutinized by a fellow woman, Aura. Artemis and her attendants, Loxo and Aura, were perspiring after a hunt in the scorching summer’s heat. They repaired to the Sangarius (Sakarya) River where they met the resident Naiads. Artemis guarded her virginity as she gradually entered the river. As the goddess submerged her body, she would hike up her tunic, ensuring that she remain veiled by water or clothing. She pressed her feet and thighs together in the water. Aura scanned the body of one who may not be scanned. In the water, Aura stretched out her arms and legs to their full length and swam alongside Artemis. Nonnus made it sound as though Aura utilized sidestroke. The fact that the ancients swam naked allowed Nonnus to pander to the emotions of his fifth-century audience. He would know their proclivities because Romans of the preceding century had embraced a popular form of aquatic 43 44 45 46

Nonnus Dion. 7.171–279 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 1:265). Nonnus Dion. 16.5–20 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 2:2–5). Nonnus Dion. 38.116–29 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 3:100–01). Nonnus Dion. 41.97–117.

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spectacle that Gennaro D’Ippolito called the “hydromime.”47 Theatrical promoters staged aquatic stories from mythology. Archaeological evidence from around the Mediterranean establishes that the orchestra of Roman theaters could be transformed into a pool of water too small for mock naval fighting but ideal for aquatic hunts and mimes. Whenever the stories had women protagonists, the audience knew that they would perform naked. In fact, water became a tantalizing barrier to the audience’s voyeurism. A meter’s depth would likely suffice to hide much of an actress’s anatomy. But that depth mattered little if the script called for the female lead to push the water with her breasts, float on her back, or exit the pool. 5

Hero and Leander on Stage and in Epyllion

From the reign of Titus in 80 CE, troops of stage mimes entertained the audience by re-enacting the skillful swimming and diving of Nereids. The spectacle was likely staged at night to enhance its strip-tease features. Nereids had to swim naked, but their illumination by torchlight muted the spectacle. The heroic swimming of Leander to Hero across the Hellespont was dramatized as a sentimental love story in the theater or a remarkable athletic feat in the amphitheater.48 In late antiquity, after Nonnus wrote his epic, Musaeus composed an abbreviated epic or epyllion to celebrate the two lovers. He also was inspired by theatrical staging of the story and may have written the poem for that context. Abydus and Sestus, home to Leander and Hero, flanked the Hellespont at its narrowest point. Musaeus emphasized that the swim presented clear dangers to Leander in space and time. Forceful currents flowed through the narrow straits. Leander swam at night, guided by the lantern that Hero illuminated in her tower on the opposite shore. He did not fear strong storms that might blow in and deter ships. “Seaborne spousals” drove the young lover to confront the swim at the riskiest moment.49 He recognized that his love for Hero engendered a contest (agon) in which he battled her parents and the natural elements. The two reduced their commitment to simple vows. Hero would light the lamp nightly, and Leander would swim (nēchomai) across the long waves. In the temperate summer, when Leander saw the lamp lit, “he burned with the

47 48 49

D’Ippolito, 1962. Coleman, 48–50, 62–65. Musaeus Grammaticus Hero and Leander 1–8, 202–09 (Hero and Leander, 1973, 345).

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burning lamp.”50 His passion drove him to hasten to her. As he reached the edge of the pounding surf, he trembled before his commitment. Nonetheless, he stripped and tied his clothes around his head. He strained himself swimming, as though engaged in a race. He served as personal oarsman for his own body, utilizing his arms for a stroke that approximated rowing. Like all who live and work on the sea, he tasted its pungent salinity. Things went well until winter arrived. Hero maintained her vow and lit the torch. Leander saw the light beckoning him and attempted to swim across. But he could no longer dominate the elements. The “fiercely shrieking sea” carried him off course, and his stroke proved futile.51 Musaeus detailed the slow exhaustion that took hold: the thrust of his feet grew slack, his hands moved but failed to move him, and, as his momentum ceased, water spilled down his throat. At that moment, the stormy winds extinguished the light of the lamp. The epilogue for an abbreviated epic was aptly concise. When the body of Leander washed up at the foot of the tower, Hero threw herself to her death.52 6

Nonnus bis: Literary Evidence for Free-Diving

In an epic on Dionysus, Nonnus mentioned the episode of the Tyrrhenian pirates in passing three different times, treated it once briefly, and narrated it once in detail. Nonnus added his own novel twists to the story.53 The seer Tiresias supplied the fullest account as he warned Dionysus’s antagonistic cousin Pentheus to beware the wrath of the wine god. The pirates felt its full force. The unscrupulous outlaws murdered strangers, stole sheep grazing near shore, and attacked vessels at sea. As a champion of justice, Dionysus decided to free the sea of their plague. He disguised himself as a boy and stood on a headland. He slung a gold chain around his neck, donned purple robes, and wreathed his head in a garland studded with emeralds and India’s precious pearls. The pirates took the bait and abducted the boy. They stripped him of his valuable possessions and tied his hands behind his back. While the pirates congratulated themselves, Dionysus unleashed a host of woes. He grew tall as a giant and roared more loudly than an army of 9,000 soldiers. He transformed the elements of the ship to enlighten them on the god with whom they 50 51 52 53

Musaeus Grammaticus Hero and Leander 241 (Hero and Leander, 1973, 377). Musaeus Grammaticus Hero and Leander 313 (Hero and Leander, 1973, 385). Musaeus Grammaticus Hero and Leander 324–43. See, e.g., Minchin, 276–83. Hymn. Hom. Bacch. 7 (Homeric Hymns, 2003, 184–89); Ov. Met. 3.563–686; and Sen. Oedipus 459–66. See, e.g., James; and Paleotheodoros.

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had to reckon. The rigging lines became snakes, the mast a cypress tree, and the quarter rudders home to heavy bunches of grapes. Bellowing bulls and a roaring lion invaded the ship. The pirates shrieked in terror and ran around the deck looking for safety. Driven mad, they thought that they saw a flowery meadow and wooded pasture beyond the rail. They assumed that they had run aground. So, they leapt from the ship, experienced a metamorphosis, and emerged as dolphins prancing on the calm waters of the sea. From the deck, the pirates dived like birds. Underwater, they had to shed their human nature and become dolphins. To describe their leap, Nonnus used the term “tumblers” (kubistētēres), diction dating back to Homer and Euripides. Once in the water, in keeping with Delian ritual, he had the dolphins dance.54 Nonnus offered several vignettes of free-diving, often featuring a similar transformation as characters moved from their natural environment to the world underwater. When Nonnus depicted Dionysus cavorting with the satyrs in the Pactolus River, he portrayed free-diving as a profession. Romping with Dionysus in the water could effect change in the satyrs. Satyrs made poor swimmers, and they were intimidated by the thought of diving underwater. One of the satyrs with Dionysus, however, became a classic Nonnian swimmer. He used his hands like oars in a rowing motion, he imprinted tracks on the swells with his feet as he stretched his legs backwards, and he sliced through waters “rolling with riches.”55 Another satyr outdid his comrade by changing into a working free-diver as he descended below the river’s surface and searched underwater caves for speckled fish. Perhaps the fish were distinguished as speckled because they would be easier to spot in limited visibility, or they may have been a peculiarly appetizing species. The diving fisher-satyr stretched out his arm and groped with his hand until he snared a “swimming fry.”56 He then abandoned the depths, swam back to the surface, and offered to Dionysus the purple-slimed fish. In the middle of the fifth century, an epic poet from late Roman Egypt was familiar with free-divers who earned their living by fishing for particular species underwater. In a poem on the Moselle River (c. 370), Ausonius compared a young boy diving into the river to recapture a fish that had somersaulted off his hook to the fisherman Glaucus who used the deadly herbs of Circe to transform himself from a human fisherman on land to a diving fisherman

54 Nonnus Dion. 44.240–49, 45.103–68 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 3:314). For tumbling, Dion. 44.249; for dancing, Dion. 45.166, 47.632. 55 Nonnus Dion. 10.145–69, esp. 10.152 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 1:339). 56 Nonnus Dion. 10.155 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 1:339).

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underwater.57 Ausonius confirmed that fishermen were known to dive in rivers like the Moselle to catch or re-catch their quarry. Nonnus used symbolism to intimate the transformative and annoying elements of free-diving for a living. For transformation, he sketched the wrenching process by which Ino became the Nereid Leukothea. Ino had dived into the sea to escape her mad husband Athamas. He had already cheated on her, killed their son Learchus, and tried to boil their second son Melicertes. Nonnus described Ino’s vault from a cliff into the sea in the archaizing terminology for acrobatic tumbling (kubistēsasa). She and her son were taken to their new home in deep waters to live with sea deities. Leukothea henceforth came to the aid of sailors lost at sea.58 The minor apotheosis of Cassiopeia, the mother of Andromeda, involved diving but proved a nuisance for its ritual regularity. Positively, Cassiopeia earned a place as a constellation among the stars. Negatively, she had to dive into the brine of the sea and fear the Nereids living in the deep. Having to immerse oneself daily in the sea, whether a human person earning a living or a constellation illumining the heavens, was wearying.59 Nonnus explored the impact of free-diving on the war occupying the heart of his epic, the expedition of Dionysus to India. The poem’s description of battles with a river and acrobatic tumbling echoed key themes in the Iliad. Books 20 and 21 treated the battle between Dionysus and Lycurgus, son of Ares, and they again introduced diving fishermen. Lycurgus took up a battle-axe and charged Dionysus and his Bacchants. Dionysus escaped by diving (hypedusato) into the Erythraean Sea. Once safely underwater, Dionysus received the hospitality of Nereus and Thetis, the mother of Achilles. A frustrated Lycurgus sought a way to bring him back up. He knew nothing about the use of cunning mesh in the depths of the sea. He therefore had fishermen dive (duntes) into the depths and drag Dionysus from his refuge.60 When later in the story the lovesick Morrheus delivered a pining speech, he recalled that Dionysus, from fear of Lycurgus, had dived (edusato) into the sea. Soldiers in flight could resort to free-diving. The battle of the Hydaspes River involved diving of various sorts.61 Early on, as Aeacus slaughtered his Indian opponents, one of them did a complete flip in the air (autokuklistos) and tumbled Iliad-style into a stream clogged with the swollen bodies of his dead comrades.62 Later in the battle, to save his 57 58 59 60 61 62

Auson. Mos. 270–82. See, e.g., Roberts, 1984, 346–48. Nonnus Dion. 10.45–125 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 1:336). Nonnus Dion. 25.134–37; and Aratus Phaen. 653–58. See, e.g., Hadjittofi, 127–30. Nonnus Dion. 20.376–83 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 2:140). See, e.g., Schmiel, 1998, 401–06; and Shorrock, 214–19. Nonnus Dion. 22.366–67 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 2:196).

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Bacchants from the fury of the river god, Dionysus set the river on fire. The set piece turned upside down the normal relationships of the four universal elements. Fire now found a home in water. In fact, it became extremely hot below the surface as the flames spread to the deep. Unveiled nymphs were driven from their homes. Some dived undraped into nearby rivers: one plunged into the alien Ganges and another chose the roaring Acesines.63 It was not enough for Dionysus to defeat the river god Hydaspes. He later had to engage in combat against King Deriades, the super-virile son of Hydaspes. The battle between the Bacchants of Dionysus and the Indians of Deriades drew a large crowd of marine deities. Deriades planned to destroy Dionysus and his fleet by using fire against their wooden ships. But Eurymedon the Cabirus turned the tables on the Indian king by setting fire to his own galley. Dionysus then ordered that the blazing ship of Eurymedon be allowed to drift into the midst of the fleet of Deriades. A naked Nereid saw the glare from the sea as the surface burst into flame, and she dived (edusato) into the deep to flee the liquid fire. The fact that Nonnus spoke of a Nereid means that the battle took place at sea. To this point all the diving was accomplished by major gods or lesser marine deities, who had special endowments that allowed them to survive underwater.64 In Book 26, Nonnus introduced a group called the Kyraioi, who lived on an island at the mouth of the Indus River. The Kyraioi were allies of Deriades and presented novel dangers to Dionysus and his Bacchants. They came ready for diving duties, they were familiar with the dangerous coastline pummeled by the sea, and they engaged in fleet actions without using wooden ships. They used one-man coracles of untanned hide stretched over a wicker framework, and they could maneuver their watercraft as ably as a shipwright’s finest wooden design. When Nonnus characterized the Kyraioi as ready for diving work, he used the term kubistētēri that he had used for the satyrs tumbling into a river and for Ino launching herself from a cliff. He did not specify their underwater contribution, but they may have utilized stealth tactics. A century earlier, such tactics were familiar to the audience whom Libanius addressed.65 63 Nonnus Dion. 23.267–76. See, e.g., Newbold, 2006, 15–17, https://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ ejournals/ElAnt/V10N1/Newbold.pdf. 64 Nonnus Dion. 39.391–401 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 3:150). 65 Nonnus Dion. 26.173–80 (Dionysiaca, 1940, 2:304). See, e.g., Frangoulis, 95–96. Libanius, supra.

part 2 Medieval Impoverishment

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Legendary Aquatic Feats of the Middle Ages So, Fergus chose to ask from him a charm for passing under seas and pools and lakes. “You shall have it,” said the dwarf, “save one that I bar to you: you shall not go under Loch Rudraige which is in your own territory.” Echtra Fergusa maic Léite 41

∵ The mythical king of Ulster, Fergus mac Léti, swam and dived underwater in the fantastic way that enlivened the medieval literature of various cultures. In fact, the original saga from the seventh or eighth century attributed to King Fergus such extraordinary feats that a thirteenth-century wag composed a Lucianic spoof of the tale. The sense that heroic swimming was reserved to an almost superhuman elite captivated peoples of the European Middle Ages. The motif implies that the actual diffusion of the skill diminished and the ancient ideal of knowing how to swim became increasingly esoteric. The saga of King Fergus introduced the world to leprechauns, originally diminutive water sprites of not altogether admirable intentions. Fergus and his faithful charioteer Muena one day repaired to the seacoast for some rest and relaxation. When the two dozed off, the leprechauns moved in. They pilfered Fergus’s sword and began to carry him into the sea. Once his foot contacted the chilly waters, he revived and grabbed hold of three sprites. While holding a leprechaun in each hand, Fergus had to pin the third rascal against his chest. Caught red-handed, the little people granted him three wishes: he would henceforth be able to pass under the seas, the pools, and the lakes. But they did so on one condition. He must never use the charm in Loch Rudraige, modern Dundrum Bay in County Down. Fergus eventually made the fateful decision to violate the prohibition and swim below the waters of the Loch. He encountered a terrifying creature called the muirdris, who could inflate and contract his body at will. The sight of that 1 Binchy, 41, https://www.ucd.ie/tlh/trans/dab.eriu.16.001.t.text.html. See, e.g., MacKillop, “Fergus mac Léti,” in Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, http://www.oxfordreference.com.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_010

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awful, altering monster, even in the poor visibility of the Loch, caused Fergus’s mouth to migrate one hundred and eighty degrees. His faithful charioteer delivered the bad news to Fergus: “ll is thy aspect.”2 But he gave his master heart by assuring him that sleep would provide a cure. While Fergus slept, Muena consulted the council of Wise Men. They decided on a course of action that would keep the disfigurement from the king. Fearing that the half-wits of Ulster might blurt out the news, they were all banished. Then, the councilors instructed the king to wash his head while lying on his back. That way he would never catch a glimpse of his mouth in reflective water. The plan worked well for seven years until Fergus subverted matters. He whipped his servant Dorn because she dawdled while washing his head. Resenting her beating, Dorn taunted the king for his ugly disfigurement. Fergus exploded in anger, sliced Dorn in two, and then dived under the waters of the Loch to engage in one-on-one combat with the muirdris. The contest lasted an entire day and night. Eventually, King Fergus emerged triumphant, holding the head of the monster. But Fergus did not long survive his titanic underwater tussle. Features of the battle in the Loch resonate in the sagas of the Anglo-Saxons, the Celts, and the Vikings. First, Fergus desired to master the waters, swimming on them and diving below them, but he needed a magic charm from the leprechauns to do so. Swimming and free-diving had become almost impossible for human beings, heroic kings included. Second, descending below the waters, where who knows what was lurking, was always risky and foolhardy when forbidden. A quick glimpse of the muirdris through the murky waters of an Ulster bay could scar one for life. Finally, defeating the muirdris in Loch Rudraige required feats unparalleled even in antiquity: a full day and night of combat underwater that left the Loch drenched in blood for a month thereafter.3 1

Swimming and Diving in the Early Middle Ages

Military swimming declined in importance as knights came to dominate medieval combat. Historians of Germanic tribes and commentators on Vegetius did advocate training in swimming and try to illustrate its effectiveness. Among the historians, Gregory of Tours (538–94) came from a distinguished senatorial family in Gaul and rose to become a bishop. He had first-hand experience of the court life of Merovingian Gaul. Two centuries after Gregory, Paul the 2 Binchy, 42. 3 Binchy, 43–44.

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Deacon (720/30–797/99) left one of the oldest families in the Friuli region to become a Benedictine monk. Trained in the textual skills of a grammarian, poet, and historian, Paul spent time at the court of King Ratchis (r. 744–49), where he taught the Lombard royal children and gathered data for the history he composed. Both clerics worked from a basic classical education and a pronounced Christian ethic as they redacted their histories of the Franks and Lombards.4 And both included sporadic anecdotes on the cultural importance of swimming. 1.1 Gregory of Tours and the Franks Gregory of Tours modeled his literary career on Sidonius Apollinaris, who once characterized the Franks as exemplary swimmers.5 Gregory recounted a story about the loyal retainer of another Gregory, his great-grandfather and bishop of Langres. The retainer’s name was Leo. Turned master chef, he came to the aid of Attalus, the nephew of Gregory of Langres, after Attalus was sold as a slave to an anonymous Frankish nobleman residing in the territory of Trier. Attalus had to watch over the lord’s horses. Leo planned to ingratiate himself to the nobleman, reveal his identity to Attalus, and help him escape. Leo succeeded in arranging for his sale as a slave to the master. With every culinary success, Leo solidified his position and rose to become head of the entire household. The moment had arrived to put his plan into action. One day, when Leo and Attalus were out in the fields, Leo stood a distance from the boy and with his back to him so that they could speak without arousing suspicion. He laid out his plan, and they put it into action during a feast that the master had organized. Leo assured ample alcohol for all. After eating and drinking well into the evening, the host and his guests took leave of each other. Once all in the house were asleep, Leo summoned Attalus. The lad had used his stable duties to screen his saddling horses for the escape. Leo asked if Attalus had a sword. Attalus indicated that he did not need one since he had a short lance. The loyal retainer dissented. He went back into the house to snatch the master’s sword and small shield. But Leo made enough noise to rouse the lord from his drunken slumber. The master inquired who the intruder was and what he wanted. The trusted Leo played the trust card. He informed the master that it was Leo, on his way to awaken Attalus because the boy had overslept and needed to take the horses out to pasture. The master ordered Leo to do as he pleased and then rolled over. Leo returned to Attalus and consigned the arms. The pair providentially found the paddock gates unbarred. Attalus had 4 See, e.g., Wynn, 2:222–23; and Taviani-Carozzi, 2:1101–02, https://www-oxfordreference.com. 5 Sid. Apoll. Carm. 2.7.233–40.

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earlier driven in wedges to bar those gates and keep the horses inside the paddock. After thanking God, the two took a bundle of clothing and all the remaining horses. They reached the Moselle River and needed to cross, but they were blocked from doing so by locals loyal to their lord. Leo and Attalus abandoned the horses, stripped naked, and swam across, supported by the stolen shield. While it was still dark, they clambered up the opposite bank and hid in the woods.6 The tale proved popular. The monk Aimon of Fleury (c. 960–1010) incorporated it into his Historia Francorum, and it became the basis for an 1838 play in German.7 It offers clues to the character and diffusion of swimming in late sixth-century Merovingian Gaul. The escaping pair chose to swim naked. They did not attempt the crossing on horseback. The risky return for the master’s shield meant that the lad Attalus had a flotation device to assist his swim. That suggests that he was the age of a normal learner. The shield-raft had a solid ancient pedigree. The diffusion of swimming, or lack thereof, may be illustrated by the fact that the Frankish loyalists blocking the path would not pursue the fugitives if it meant swimming. The escape did take place at night, and the loyalists may have congregated at a known ford. Upright fugitives did benefit from divine intervention. For Gregory, there was no other explanation for the fact that Leo and Attalus found the paddock gates unlocked. Swimming made a second cameo when Gregory clashed with Count Leudast. Originally a slave, Leudast ingratiated himself at the court of Charibert and rose to become a count. In late 579, Leudast participated in a plot to depose Gregory and replace him as bishop with a local priest named Riculf. Leudast arrived in Tours on the Saturday after Easter. While Leudast pretended that he was in Tours on other business, he arrested two of Gregory’s confidants, Galienus and the archdeacon Plato. He intended to accuse both of treason, likely hoping to flip them. Leudast stripped the two of their clerical clothing, loaded them down with chains, and ordered them to be taken to the Queen. They were to perjure themselves by claiming that they heard Gregory label her majesty an adulteress. Leudast utilized a ferry system to cross the river. His boat towed another with the two prisoners. The boat of Leudast sank, his villainous comrades drowned, and he had to swim for his life. An opportunist

6 Gregory of Tours Historia Francorum 3.15 (Recueil des historiens, 1869, 2:195): “Venientes autem ad Mosellam fluvium, cum transirent illum, et detinerentur a quibusdam, relictis equitibus et vestimentis, enatantes super parma positi amnem, in ulteriorem egressi sunt ripam. Et inter obscura noctis ingressi silvas, latuerunt.” See, e.g., Martínez Pizarro. 7 See, e.g., Wood, 2013, 170–71.

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former slave like Leudast could swim, though other members of his entourage could not.8 Gregory recounted the career of the cunning Austrasian Duke Guntram Boso, who resided at Tours. Duke Guntram promised the king that he would apprehend the rebellious commander Eunius Mummolus and bring him for trial at the Burgundian court. In 582, Guntram Boso’s chase after Mummolus led them across three smaller rivers before reaching the Rhône. Mummolus had observed that Guntram’s column did not have its own boats and had to co-opt those available locally. In cloak and dagger fashion, Mummolus sabotaged the boats that his pursuers would have to use to cross the Rhône. When many of the compromised boats sank in mid-stream, some of Guntram Boso’s soldiers swam to safety while others tore planks from the boats and made their way to shore with the aid of the makeshift floats. Those with less presence of mind drowned. What remained of Guntram’s army crossed the Rhône, reached Avignon, and placed the city under siege. Mummolus still had a trick up his sleeve. The defenders of Avignon had dug a moat on the eastern side of the city. The moat was fed by the Rhône. Mummolus had his men dig pits at various points to deepen the channel. When Guntram arrived, Mummolus hailed him from the city’s walls and indicated his willingness to negotiate one on one. Guntram finally agreed. Mummolus told Guntram to wade across the moat. Guntram chose a companion, and they stepped in. When the two fell into a pit, Guntram almost drowned and his companion did. Swimming was a critical skill for saving one’s life, but not all possessed the skill.9 The evidence for Charlemagne’s ability to swim is not altogether clear. In a biography, Einhard (Eginhard) emphasized that Charlemagne did exercise for purposes of recreation, favoring equestrian and hunting workouts. Charlemagne chose late in life to build a palace at Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle) largely because he enjoyed the steam produced there by hot springs. Einhard noted that the emperor kept fit at Aachen by swimming (natatu), but he added that Charlemagne invited his sons, his nobles, and his retinue to join him. His guests at times numbered a hundred or more. His heated swimming pool on such occasions sounds more like a Carolingian luxury hot tub. Perhaps when the party was over, Charlemagne did have a pool adequate for swimming all to himself. John McClelland has argued that, after Gregory of Tours, sports failed 8 Gregory of Tours Historia Francorum 5.50 (Recueil des historiens, 1869, 2:262–64). See, e.g., Wood, 2014, 86–87; Heinzelmann, 46–48. 9 Gregory of Tours Historia Francorum 6.26 (Recueil des historiens, 1869, 2:279). See, e.g., Bachrach, 72–78.

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to attract notice. The five hundred years until around 1100 were a desert of authentic physical exercise.10 1.2 Paul the Deacon and the Lombards The history that Paul the Deacon wrote of the Lombards went from the origins of that Germanic tribe to the death of King Liutprand in 744. He included an aetiological story to explain why a newly chosen king grasped the royal lance as a symbol of his authority. One day, the Lombard King Agelmund was riding by a fishpond when he spotted seven infant boys floundering in the water. They turned out to be septuplets, whose prostitute mother had discarded them. Agelmund dismounted and prodded the babies with his spear. One of the boys put his tiny hand on the spear and held on. Moved by compassion, the king commanded that the infant be lifted from the pond and brought immediately to a wet nurse. The brave boy was given the name Lamissio because the word in Lombard for fishpond was lama. As an adult, Lamissio succeeded Agelmund.11 Before assuming the throne, Lamissio had a chance to prove his prowess as a swimmer. When Lamissio led his Lombard army to a river, the local Amazons refused to allow them across. To settle matters, Lamissio challenged the strongest Amazon to a swimming duel. By killing her, Lamissio won a twin victory: acclaim from all who witnessed the confrontation and the right to cross. Paul manifested his skepticism about the accuracy of the account. If the Amazons ever existed, they had been wiped out long before the supposed contest. He did entertain the possibility that Lamissio had led his army to a place where a class of athletic female swimmers resided. There was a report of just such a race of women in the innermost parts of Germany. The story suggests that women who swam well were not unimaginable.12 Paul supplied another account of swimming during the troubles that followed the death of King Cunipert. Cunipert’s young son Liutpert was then under the guardianship of his tutor Ansprand. Usurping the throne, Aripert had Liutpert killed, exiled his guardian Ansprand to Bavaria, and murdered one of Ansprand’s sons. Nine years later, in 712, Ansprand gathered a Bavarian army, invaded Italy, and fought the army of Aripert. Paul underlined the slaughter on both sides. When the Bavarians turned their backs to leave the 10 Einhard Vita Karoli Magni 22 (Vita, 1839, 41–42). See McClelland, 36–37, 39, 117. 11 Paul the Deacon Historia Langobardorum 1.15 (Historia, 1878, 61–62). For the skeptics, Paul cited a text of Pliny (HN 7.33) on the monstrous births of seven or even nine babies to the same mother. See, e.g., Malone, 320–25; and Gasparri, 101–02. 12 Paul the Deacon Historia Langobardorum 1.15 (Historia, 1878, 62).

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field, Aripert withdrew to his camp. Because he had avoided outright defeat, he claimed victory. But Aripert was unwilling to endure the discomforts of the field and retired to his palace in Pavia. His departure affected morale on both sides: his own soldiers lost hope while the Bavarians took heart. Once Aripert reached Pavia, he realized his poor choice and took counsel with his courtiers. They urged him to flee to France and take as much gold with him as he would need in exile. Aripert did as advised, but, when he attempted to swim across the Ticinus (Ticino) River, greed got the better of him. Weighed down by the gold, he drowned. The Lombards found his body the following day and took it to the palace for proper burial.13 The moral of the story related to the power of greed to drag down the human spirit. The low note on swimming may reflect the broader reality of its diminishing usefulness to medieval society. 1.3 Swimming in Medieval Art By the High Middle Ages, the ethos of chivalry and the Christianization of Europe conspired against learning to swim. The historical writings of the period made few references to swimmers. Information gleaned from classical sources was recast in bizarre form. Plutarch’s biography of Alexander the Great had him expressing regret that he had not learned to swim. In the Middle Ages, romances celebrated his overcoming that liability by descending underwater in a sealed glass sphere or barrel. Alexander was probably fortunate that no such technology existed. He would rapidly exhaust the air supply in such a closed container, fill it with carbon dioxide, and have no good way to signal that he was in trouble. The descent of Alexander in his glass bell is as absurd as his ascent to the heavens on a chariot drawn by griffons. Unnatural means were introduced to accomplish human ends. A similar pattern structured the lives of the Christian saints, who interceded with God to have the divinity save near drowning victims. Swimming as a human skill proved to be of little help.14 Swimmers are difficult to find in medieval art. A manuscript illumination for Frederick II’s treatise on the art of falconry depicted a swimmer crossing a pond to retrieve the prey caught by a falcon.15 The swimmer’s clothes are piled at water’s edge. He kept a cap on his head and may wear breeches. His arms appear to move in unison, his legs without coordination. He bends the arms at the elbows, has his hands near his ears, and twists the right hand outward at 13 Paul the Deacon Historia Langobardorum 6.35 (Historia, 1878, 227–28). See, e.g., Hallenbeck, 11–12. 14 See, e.g., Boyer; Gosman, 29–30, 33, 38, 206–07; and Morosini, 340–64. 15 Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vatican City, MS Pal. lat 1071, fol. 69. Frederick II, De arte venandi cum avibus, https://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Pal.lat.1071.

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the wrist. The left leg is bent at the knee while the right extends straight out behind. If all of that is not odd enough, add that, when he lies flat in the water, he almost covers the length of the pond. Not much swimming was required. The falcon awaits his arrival on the opposite side of a narrow stream flowing from the pond. Why swim the pond when you could ford the stream or swim a shorter distance across it directly to the patient falcon? The composition suggests that the illuminator knew almost nothing about swimming and liked the idea of an almost square pond that fit the space on the parchment he had at his disposition.16 Two other known fifteenth-century illuminations continue the theme of guileless depictions of swimming or even non-swimming. The first depicts a miracle from the life of Saint Benedict. In a vision, the saint realized that his disciple Placidus, while retrieving water, had fallen into the lake. Benedict sent Maurus to rescue Placidus, Maurus walked on the lake’s water and snatched Placidus by the hair, but Placidus saw one dressed as an abbot, not Maurus, saving him. The illumination shows an erect Maurus in heavy garb reaching out to an equally fully clothed Placidus and grasping him by the hands, not the hair. The calm encouragement of Maurus contrasts to the panicked cry of Placidus. Amazing grace channeled through a Christian holy man rescued a swimmer in distress. No human participant in the event gave any indication of knowing how to swim.17 Other medieval artworks do not show swimmers clothed but nude, as was traditional. The illumination for August that the Limbourg brothers executed for the Très riches heures du duc de Berry shows naked peasants swimming in the Juine River. Four serfs have made their way along a path through a field where two of their fellow laborers are cutting and binding sheaves of grain. A naked figure sits on the riverbank. His blue robe lies on the ground next to him. His lower legs dangle in the river as he washes his right arm with his left. Two of the peasants are swimming. One lies on his back nearer the bank, angles his arms away from his body, opens both legs, and bends them ninety degrees at the knees to form a U. To show that he is in the water, his naked body has dark shading. His fellow swimmer lies on his stomach and seems to have a flotation belt at his waist. He lifts his head out of the water, strokes with his arms, and trails his slightly separated legs behind. The arms work together 16 17

See, e.g., Orme, 22–40; and Sekules, 174–75. Pierpont Morgan Library, New York, MS M.917/945, 283, The Hours of Catherine of Cleves (c. 1440), “Suffrages, Saint Benedict,” https://www.themorgan.org/collection/hours-of -catherine-of-cleves/334. For Italian depictions of the scene, see, e.g., R. Hall and Roberts, “11 H (Benedict) 52.”

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for breaststroke. The last of the foursome stands in the water facing the riverbank. The water reaches his upper thighs, again indicated by shading. He bends forward and puts his hands in the water at river’s edge. He seems to be washing off or preparing to climb out. The August illumination is the only one in which peasants have a moment to relax from their labor in the fields. It retains a strong note of class. The swimming peasants are tiny figures in the background. An aristocratic hawking party towers over the image’s foreground. Unlike hawking, swimming was not restricted to the medieval nobility.18 1.4 Medieval Commentary on Vegetius Vegetius stimulated interest in swimming among a select group of medieval scholars. In the ninth century, Hrabanus Maurus published an epitome of Vegetius with material added from other sources. Among various forms of military drilling, the abbot of Fulda recommended swimming. He presaged the chivalric future of Western warfare by concluding his list with horsemanship. In the De regimine principum, Giles of Rome adduced Vegetius to argue late in the thirteenth century that soldiers should be trained to employ a variety of weapons and swim well. Around 1330, in a work marketed as treating warfare in the spiritual life, Bartolomeo da Urbino had more to say about warfare in real life. Drawing on Vegetius and Valerius Maximus, he argued that soldiers needed to train in running and leaping and combat exercises that included swimming. In a work written in Scotland in 1494, Adam Loutfut interpolated passages from Giles of Rome into his expanded translation of Vegetius. He supported the position that soldiers should know how to swim. Petrarch glossed the manual of Vegetius where it described imperial naval bases at Misenum and Ravenna, while Machiavelli quoted Vegetius on soldiers having to learn to swim because they could not cross every river on a bridge. The illustration of swimming in a medieval manuscript of Vegetius now in Paris is technically sophisticated. It displays a historiated initial N with an adept swimmer. The swimmer’s left arm extends down into the water, his right arm is rotating above the water, and his head tilts to his right to breathe. The illuminator apparently wished to depict the swimmer using a front crawl with rotary breathing. And the initial speaks: the man swimming visualizes the word natandi that opens the chapter.19 18 Musée Condé, Chantilly, MS 65, fol. 8v. Limbourg brothers, Très riches heures du duc de Berry (Aout). “Limbourg brothers (Herman, Jean, Paul),” Web Gallery of Art, https://www .wga.hu/. See, e.g., L. F. Jacobs, 32–35. 19 Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, MS Smith-Lesouëf 13, unnumbered folio (cap. ix). Vegetius, De re militari, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b100855893/f5.item. See esp. Allmand, 51–52, 107–08, 116–20, 142, 203 fig. 7, 214–15, 235–36.

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Aquatic Feats of the Heroes of Sagas and Epic

Great heroes of the literature of the Middle Ages received the sort of military instruction that Vegetius advocated. The protagonists of Celtic legend, Anglo-Saxon epic, and Norse saga kept the renown of swimming and freediving alive in the imagination of all who learned of their exploits. Heroes distinguished themselves as a ferry service across rivers, as willing rescuers of self and other, as endurance swimmers unfazed by cold or distance, as oddson favorites in one-on-one aquatic combat, and as free-diving monster-slayers. When it came to swimming and free-diving, Beowulf set the bar high. He engaged in competitive swims, free-dived to kill Grendel’s monstrous mother, and made a marathon swim weighed down with baggage. For five days Beowulf swam in the icy seas, matching stroke for stroke his brash competitor Breca. After storm surges separated the pair, Beowulf continued swimming for two more days. Along the way he battled sea-monsters who intended to feast on his flesh. One mighty monster who foolishly pulled Beowulf underwater “met his unmaker.”20 Beowulf later dived to the monster-mere of Grendel’s mother. He had to swim for half a day underwater until he finally reached the sea-floor and waterless hall. There he risked his life to fight the female warrior. Victorious, he returned to the gore-drenched surface with the head of her son and the hilt of a bizarre sword that had bailed him out. Finally, after a raid on Frisia, Beowulf swam back to southern Sweden, towing thirty trophies from the earls he had felled. Having lost his lord, Beowulf experienced the wretched loneliness of the long-distance swimmer.21 Among the Anglo-Saxon, Celtic, and Icelandic traditions, the question of influence remains debated. Theodore Andersson commented that the quest for the sources of Beowulf has been earnest but “surprisingly barren.”22 Patterns in the narratives indicate an appreciation for skills such as breath-holding and endurance swimming, particularly in cold waters. The retrieval of valuable objects like swords and rings indicates the ongoing value of salvage to cultures that transported their goods by sea. The frequency of one-on-one contests in the water, to swim the farthest distance or longest time or to wrestle an opponent into submission by dunking, portends the aristocratic direction of Medieval Europe. Individual heroism in jousting was a proven path to political authority. Prowess in swimming and diving are admired but seemingly attainable only by a select group. In waters as cold as those of northern Europe, it 20 Beowulf, 2004, 19–21 (lines 450–516, quote line 495). 21 Beowulf, 2004, 44–49 (lines 1279–1456), 67–68 (lines 2075–99). 22 T. M. Andersson, 129. See, e.g., Carney, 84–101, 114–28; and Puhvel, 55–81.

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makes sense that experiments with insulating clothing were underway and that a hero would disdain such pampering. True heroes swam in full armor. Once in the water, they took on bears as well as men. 2.1 Characteristics of Swimming in Northern Legends In describing a swimmer’s abilities, the northerners shifted their primary animal comparison to one at home in that icy clime. Though still admiring the dolphin, northern heroes wanted to swim like a seal.23 In terms of diffusion, the master swimmers of the north are few. Nicholas Orme has argued that the mundane character of swimming as a skill allowed swimming out of the ordinary to capture the audience’s attention. Legendary sagas made normal abilities super-human.24 It could also be the opposite. Swimming had become so unfamiliar that what seems ridiculously hyperbolic to us seemed remotely plausible to them. Stories of amazing swims entertained those engaged in agricultural activities day in and day out. In the Icelandic sagas, skilled practitioners of swimming cross class lines. Saga heroes like Egil and Grettir stand out, the kings and nobility of Norway stand out, but commoners likewise distinguished themselves for their capacity to swim. In the saga of the Orkney Islanders, a counselor named Havard (Howard) Gunnason jumped ship and swam to an uninhabited island. Later, a different Havard, a humble farmhand, accompanied the future jarl Kali Kolsson in his search for treasure in a cave on the island of Dolls. The two tied a safety line between them and then swam across a lake inside the cave. The text noted that merchants coveted the island’s treasure but would not risk the swim. After setting up stones and singing a song, the two returned to their men. Later renamed Rognvald, Kali Kolsson kept on swimming. He set out on Crusade in 1151 and, while in the Holy Land, swam the Jordan River with his companion Sigmund Fishhook whose name has the ring of a commoner.25 In the sagas, it was not unknown that a woman would swim. A slave and sorceress named Thorgerd Brak got into an ugly spat with Skallagrim after nursing his son Egil. When the crazed father tried to attack his own son, the slave nurse got Skallagrim to let go of Egil and go after her. Skallagrim managed to grab her, but she escaped, leapt off a cliff, and tried to swim to safety. Skallagrim hurled a great stone that hit the swimming woman, and, in the straightforward 23 Njál’s Saga 19 (Gunnar), 25 (Skarphedinn). See the Icelandic Saga Database (numbering followed here), http://sagadb.org. 24 Orme, 9–18. 25 Orkneyinga Saga 37, 52, 82 (History of the Earls of Orkney, 1981, 92, 110–11, 179, quote from Kali’s poem on 111).

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words of the saga, neither resurfaced.26 The body of water came to be known as Brak’s Sound. There are indications that fearless men learned swimming at a young age. The saga of the People of Laxardal portrayed a group of Icelandic youth swimming for fun in the Lax (Salmon) River. To trick young Grettir into swimming, the outlaw Thorir Redbeard twice had to acknowledge that swimming was “least handy” to him. Havard the Lame was an old man when Thorbjorn Thjodreksson killed his son. While seeking revenge, Havard found himself imbued with the swimming strength of a young man.27 Northerners swam in every marine environment: the saltwater seas and the freshwater ponds, lakes, and rivers. Living on a large island like Iceland or an archipelago of islands like the Orkneys motivated audacious youth to learn to swim. And they swam year-round. On a fair autumn Norwegian day, the men of Trondheim were out swimming and competing in the River Nid. When a boat carrying Thorkell, his wife, and their young son to Christmas services capsized in ice flows on a river, Thord the Terror rescued all three members of the family. The summer’s heat of Palestine did not deflect Jarl Rognvald Kali, Sigmund Fishhook, or King Sigurd I Magnusson (r. 1103–30) from swimming across the Jordan.28 No matter what the season, northerners usually swam naked. Sigurd did in the heat of a Palestinian summer, and Thord did in winter ice flows. The young men swimming in the Salmon River leapt out and were almost dressed when others approached them. Grettir removed his clothes and weapons when swimming to retrieve fishing nets, but he did dress for his swim from his island hideout to Iceland itself. Northerners experimented with clothing that might supply insulation. That was particularly true for long swims or swims in the open sea. Among the preferred materials were coarse wool and sealskin. When Grettir swam to borrow fire, he wore a cowl tucked into breeches of homespun cloth and a rope belt. He still emerged covered in ice and was mistaken for a troll. When he made the famous swim from his Drangey hideout to Iceland, he wore a sealskin hood and loose thin drawers. After Egil swam to a nearby island, he had to wring his clothes dry.29 26 Egil’s Saga 40. 27 Laxardal Saga 33; Grettir’s Saga 56; and The Story of Howard the Lame 11. Laxardal is a valley in Western Iceland named for the Lax (Salmon) River. 28 Laxardal Saga 40; The Saga of Thord the Terror 2; Orkneyinga Saga 82; and Sturlusson Heimskringla “Story of Sigurd the Crusader and His Brothers Eystein and Olaf” 25 (Heimskringla, 1844, Online Medieval and Classical Library Release, http://omacl.org/ Heimskringla/; Heimskringla I–III, 2011–15, Viking Society Website Publications, http:// vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/). 29 Grettir’s Saga 38, 56, 75; and Egil’s Saga 45.

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The Christianization of the north brought added modesty. As Jarl of Orkney, St. Magnus wore breeches when swimming to escape the fleet of the king of Norway. When the Irish slave St. Findan realized that he was too weak to swim from his captors on the Orkney Islands, he entrusted his fate to divine mercy, plunged fully dressed into the sea, and soon found that his clothing had frozen solid and floated him to safety. The rigid body caste of Findan indicates that northerners knew that icebergs floated and used rigid floats, likely fashioned from the wood that they worked so well.30 Among technological aids, Grettir was said to have tied his fingers together in webbed fashion.31 Swimmers did not disdain aid from divine forces. Bersi wore a charm around his neck, while Havard the Lame took a vow to be baptized if he survived his swim. The wording is clever: baptism for Christians is a salvific act. The sacramental ritual unfolded by plunging the neophyte into water. The Christian God did not let Havard down. Quite the contrary, God had something to do with his opponent Thjodreksson’s literal downfall. As Thjodreksson went to hurl a rock at the swimming Havard, he slipped on the wet outcrop, fell backward, had the rock land on his chest, and lay motionless. Havard then swooped in with his newfound youthful swimming strength and killed Thjodreksson. Once his nemesis was dead, Havard then slashed his face and extracted his teeth, as Thjodreksson had done to his son. His vengeance served, Havard still had the strength to swim back to the mainland.32 When describing the basic swim stroke, northern literature more than once used the analogy of rowing. One saga reversed matters by having a boat swim.33 When Bersi came out of retirement to compete at the winter games in Saurbae, he stroked with all his might to breast the waves. Ancient authors used the same wording. It calls to mind surfers paddling furiously to get over a cresting wave. One saga indicated that a servant taught swimming. The yeoman Wolf took a group of boys for instruction to a small mountain lake (tarn) near their homestead.34 Prowess in swimming figured in the listing of abilities that set heroes apart from a young age. Among the perfections of Cúchulainn, Celtic storytellers included an ability to perform a vertical leap so high that it became known as the salmon leap, handle a horse, and swim. The seven pupils in each 30 Orme, 16; and Vita Sancti Findani (Life of the Holy Findan, 1962, 159, CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts website, http://www.ucc.ie/celt/published/T201041/text001.html). 31 Grettir’s Saga 75. 32 Kormak the Skald’s Saga 11; and Story of Howard the Lame 11. 33 Gisli the Outlaw’s Saga 13 (Gisli, 1866, 77): “he rowed out to sea every day that a boat would swim.” 34 Kormak the Skald’s Saga 11; and Faereyinga Saga (Saga of Thrand the Gate) 12.

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eye and the seven toes and fingers that gave Cúchulainn the grip of a hawk did not impede his stroke.35 In the Laxardal saga, a son of Olaf the Peacock named Kjartan emerged as a deft craftsman and reputedly the best swimmer among men.36 Icelandic heroes included swimming among their base skill set. Thord the Terror was ranked a competent poet and able to swim better than any rival.37 A friend to Njál and hero of Njál’s saga, Gunnar established his supremacy in arms by winning all competitions. There was no better way to recap his swimming prowess than to assert that he swam like a seal. Njál’s son Skarphedinn need not quake before Gunnar’s mighty athleticism. He was the swiftest runner, a skilled swordsman, and also swam like a seal.38 2.2 Purposes of Swimming in Northern Legends Swimmers put all that ability to good use when they attempted to rescue themselves or others. Celtic legend and Norse saga celebrated heroes who ferried the needy over a river. Christian legend had St. Christopher perform the same service. When boys playing near the Callan River at Emania ended their games and dived in, along came Cúchulainn to assist. He balanced one lad in each palm and two more on each shoulder. Then the mighty hero transited the river while getting only his ankles wet. In a Christian adaptation of the myth of Cúchulainn, St. Patrick (Pádraig) was trying to convert King Lóegaire. When Lóegaire challenged Patrick to summon Cúchulainn, Patrick assured him that God can. Once God did, Cúchulainn enumerated the enormous risks he had run during his lifetime. They included a shipwreck in which Cúchulainn’s crew were said to have drowned in a terrible storm, but they didn’t because he came to their rescue. He brought them to safety by putting nine in each hand and thirty on his head. He positioned eight along his sides where they clung to his body as he swam the Ocean until reaching harbor.39 In Grettir’s saga, the hero carried a woman named Steinvor (Steinbor) and her daughter across a raging river on Christmas Day. While he held mother and daughter in one arm, he used the other to deflect the flow of ice on the river.40 Personal swimming rescues could be particularly delicate in naval encounters or blood feuds. After a battle on the Baltic Sea in 1000, King Olaf Tryggvason 35 36 37 38 39

Táin Bó Cuilnge (Cattle Raid of Cooley) 11. Laxardal Saga 28, 33. See, e.g., Pencak, 66–80. The Saga of Thord the Terror 1. Njál’s Saga 19, 25 (Story of Burnt Njal, 1900, 34, 44). Táin Bó Cuilnge (Cattle Raid of Cooley) 26 (LL 67a) (Cuchullin Saga, 1898, 151); and Síaburcharpat Con Culainn (Cuchullin Saga, “Phantom Chariot of Cúchulainn,” 1898, 284–85). 40 Grettir’s Saga 64.

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jumped into the water in full gear to escape and was never seen again. One version indicated that Olaf had drowned. Another rehabilitated the king’s memory. Once underwater, he removed his mail-shirt, dived where he could not be seen, and swam under the enemy longships to safety.41 By contrast, the fate of the crew of Hallvard was not in question after a night-time raid on their ship by Kveldulf and his son Skallagrim. Their commander slain, many of Hallvard’s men threw themselves into the water to escape. But they were foiled by Skallagrim’s crew, who rowed after the swimmers, and killed them all.42 Swimming helped Sigmund Brestisson to escape after he was sent from Norway to Christianize the Faroe Islands and reduce them to vassalage. On the island of Skufoy, the warrior Thrand used two ships and select crews to harm Sigmund, his longtime rival. As the raiders burned his houses, Sigmund got away by leaping across a chasm. Having waited for nightfall, Sigmund then leapt back and killed one of Thrand’s men. But he lost his sword on the return vault. Thrand’s gang tracked Sigmund to a rock promontory. Unable to fight without a sword, Sigmund plunged into the sea. Hearing the splash, Thrand and his gang gave chase. Some used a boat while others walked the beach. The outcome remained unsettled until some years later. It emerged that Sigmund and his two companions, Einar and Thorir, were swept by the current in the direction of the island of Suduroy and tried to swim the ten kilometers to the island. Halfway there, Einar gave up, and Sigmund for a time carried Einar on his back. That ended when Thorir inquired how long Sigmund intended to transport a corpse. Sigmund released Einar’s body, and the two pressed on. Three quarters of the way to Suduroy, cousin Thorir gave up. Sigmund put Thorir over his shoulders and resumed swimming. He reached Suduroy exhausted, fell immediately on the beach, and did not notice his cousin Thorir slipping from his grasp back into the sea. When Sigmund regained consciousness, he was murdered by a tenant of Thorgrim, who coveted his valuables. A swim of that distance at night in frigid water would be a heroic achievement. The exertion in the end cost all three their lives.43 After navigating south along the Jutland peninsula to the border between Denmark and Frisia, Thorolf and Egil were warned that Eyvind Braggart planned to ambush them. Egil decided to take the initiative, so he headed north on the sea at night. He caught Eyvind with only two ships anchored in an inlet and attacked with rocks and spears. Eyvind and the others who survived the onslaught jumped overboard and used their swimming skills to reach 41 Olaf’s Saga 256 (Saga of King Olaf, 1895, 429–35). 42 Egil’s Saga 27. 43 Faereyinga saga (Saga of Thrand the Gate) 37–40 (Thrand of Gotu, 1994, 86–95).

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safety on land.44 Hunted as an outlaw for killing the brother of a man named Bork, Gisli Sursson had taken refuge on an islet off the coast of Hjardarness. Bork took a boatload of his men to the islet to do justice. Gisli plunged into the strait and tried to swim to Iceland. Bork saw Gisli in the water and hit him in the leg with his spear. Gisli managed to extract the spear. Bleeding from the wound, Gisli made it to shore at night and hid in the forest.45 The bard Kormak got his opportunity to prove his skill at swimming when Vikings kidnapped a woman named Steingerd (Steingeror). The Vikings left a skeletal crew on their ship to guard her, while the rest went ashore to have supper. Aided by his brother Thorgils, Kormak made his way to the ship, found Steingerd on the stern deck, jumped overboard with her, and swam toward shore. When aggressive eels pulled Kormak under, he managed to wriggle free and get the captive Steingerd to safety.46 In extreme circumstances, Thord the Terror managed to rescue the family of Thorkell. At Christmastime, Thorkell set out with his wife and young son in a boat on a river choked by ice flows. The flows capsized the boat, leaving the three clinging to its keel and yelling for help. At first, Thord indulged his resentment, having warned Thorkell that the river was impassable. Ultimately, he made three trips out to the capsized boat and back to shore, utilizing his swimming skill to save the others. On the first trip, he had to break the ice to reach the boat. He selected the boy Eidr for rescue. Thord used string to tie the boy between his shoulders. That position would keep the boy’s head above water as Thord swam breaststroke. He ferried the boy to shore, enlisted the aid of his brother to care for him, and warmed up for the next swim. This time, Thord found the mother exhausted and struggling to hold on. He brought her back to land. Thord saved Thorkell for last because he could best resist the cold.47 2.3 Distance and Competitive Swimming in Northern Legends The northern heroes competed in swim marathons to build up their endurance. Anglo-Saxon and Icelandic racers had to confront poor weather, sapping cold, and difficult navigation. When the young Beowulf accepted Breca’s challenge, he confronted the long swim dressed in his mail shirt. Beowulf made the choice because the mail offered protection when marine monsters tried to bite him and aided his endurance by supplying a bit of warmth. What should weigh down the swimmer instead developed the insulating properties of neoprene 44 45 46 47

Egil’s Saga 49. Gisli’s Saga 14. Kormak the Skald’s Saga 26. The Saga of Thord the Terror 2.

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rubber. The traditional marine hardships encountered along the way add to the luster of Beowulf’s success. Sword in hand, he swam on through tossing seas, bitter cold, and disorienting nights. As an adult, Beowulf swam home from the disastrous expedition of King Hygelāc to Frisia. The distance covered was already remarkable, but Beowulf added to it by ferrying thirty trophies of war gear. Among swimmers in Norse sagas, Egil One-Hand paired with Asmund Beserkers-slayer to prove their ability in endurance swimming. Son of King Hring of the Smalands, Egil was a rambunctious boy who ran with a gang that took pleasure in killing birds and animals. At age twelve, Egil challenged the thirty members of his band to see who could swim the farthest into a lake filled with islands. The outermost island was so far away that one had to climb a tree to see it. The competitors swam a long distance until they were slowed by a combination of mist and wind. Egil swam the fastest and lost sight of the others. He also lost his bearings and ended up wandering the lake for two days. He was so exhausted that he had to crawl out, cover himself in moss, and recuperate.48 A competitive spirit when swimming dovetailed with the enduring element of eroticism. The Celtic hero Fergus mac Roích got into trouble when he went for a swim with Queen Medb, married at the time to the warrior Ailill mac Máta. In the lake, the naked queen sat on Fergus’s chest and wrapped her legs around him. Her husband commented that it was not pleasant “to watch what hart and doe were doing in the lake.”49 While Fergus and Medb cavorted, a blind warrior-poet named Lugaid overheard them. Urged on by Ailill, Lugaid hurled his lance in the direction of the noise. The lance passed through the heart of Fergus, who managed to swim to shore and pull it out before he expired. Queen Medb had a daughter by Ailill named Finnabair. Despite knowing the hero Fráech only by reputation, Finnabair fell for him. Fráech arrived for his first visit with a massive offering for the bride price. However, when Ailill demanded even more, Fráech balked. The demands included twelve white calves with red ears paired with twelve milk cows. While Ailill plotted to kill Fráech, the suitor put his energies into impressing both parents. Ailill sent Fráech to retrieve berries from the opposite bank of the river Dublind, knowing the swim was not safe. The sight of Fráech’s naked body did nothing to dampen Finnabair’s rapture. When Fráech returned with a branch of berries, 48 Saga of Egil One-Hand and Asmund Berserks-Slayer 9 (Seven Viking Romances, 1985, 240–42). 49 Meyer, Death-Tales, 1906, 32–35 (quote on 33); and MacKillop, “Fergus mac Róich,” in Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, http://www.oxfordreference.com.

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Ailill sent him back for more. This time he swam over a deep pool where a dragon awaited him. Fráech yelled for a sword, but no one would supply one until Finnabair cast away her outer garments, grabbed a sword, and swam out. To stop her, her father threw a spear, but it only grazed her. Fráech caught the spear and threw it back at Ailill, ripping his robe and tunic. Then, taking the sword from Finnabair, he battled the monster and cut off its head. Later in life, Fráech met his aquatic match when Cúchulainn drowned him.50 Another Celtic tale had the sisters Áine and Milucra competing for the same hero, Fionn mac Cumhaill. Milucra knew that her sister had taken a vow never to make love to a gray-haired man. So the sorceress Milucra concocted a plan to trick Fionn into swimming in a lake whose waters she enchanted so that they would turn a swimmer’s hair gray. Milucra told Fionn she had dropped a gold ring in the lake. He swam in and dived to retrieve it. When Fionn emerged, his hair had indeed become gray. He also emerged aged and bowed, a side effect Milucra had not intended. Áine countered with her own magic potion. The Fianna, the men of Fionn’s band, forced him to take the potion, which did restore his youth but left his hair silver.51 Icelandic swimmers embraced the challenge of distance swimming in difficult conditions. When Egil Skallagrimsson one day spotted the island of Sheppey across a wide fjord, he placed his weapons inside his cloak, wrapped them in a bundle, and tied the bundle on his back. He then swam in the rest of his clothing.52 Marathon swimming seemed a specialty of the outlaw-hero Grettir. He was so confident in his ability to swim long distances that it could be used against him. Early in winter, Grettir and his cohorts navigated from Iceland to Norway. Along the way, they ran into such inclement weather, including snow and frost, that, by the time they anchored in a sound, they were exhausted, soaked to the bone, and in danger of freezing to death. Yet they had no fire. Someone spotted a roaring blaze in a house on the opposite side of the sound. Knowing how headstrong Grettir could be, his posse dared him to swim over and bring back the fire. Grettir took the bait. He stripped, donned a homespun wool tunic and breeches, tucked up the tunic, and tied a rope belt around it. Grettir leapt overboard and swam the sound. He emerged iced over, resembling a terrifying troll. He entered the shelter with the roaring 50 Táin Bó Fraích (The Cattle Raid of Fráech) (Heroic Romances, 1906, 7–56). Modern retelling in Freeman, 98–102. See, e.g., Monaghan, 2004, 188; and MacKillop, “Fráech,” in Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, http://www.oxfordreference.com. 51 Rolleston, 278–81; Ó Hógáin, 219–20 (unnamed otherworldly lady); MacKillop, “Áine,” in Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, http://www.oxfordreference.com; and Monaghan, 2014, 195. 52 Egil’s Saga 45.

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fire where he confronted the sons of Thorir of Gard and acquired the fire. But he accidentally set the shelter ablaze during a struggle with Thorir’s sons. He swam the fire back to his crew, only to receive the shattering news that they were disowning him because he had caused a deadly inferno in the home. He made an enemy in Thorir of Gard who enlisted the help of Thorir Redbeard in a secret plan for revenge. Thorir Redbeard spent two winters with Grettir during which he enjoyed Grettir’s hospitality and looked for a way to kill him. Redbeard came up with a plan by which he could catch Grettir off guard. During a violent storm Redbeard destroyed their only boat and blamed the loss on the storm. The pair had set fish nets a long way out in the water. Grettir ordered Redbeard to swim out and bring in the nets, but Redbeard twice refused. So Grettir took off his clothes and weapons and stepped into the trap that Redbeard had set for him. Grettir swam the long distance to the nets, swept them together, and brought them fish-laden to shore. As Grettir climbed out of the frigid waters, Redbeard sprang. He attacked Grettir with his short sword. Grettir fell back into the water and sank like a stone. Redbeard patrolled the shoreline, waiting for Grettir to reemerge. But Grettir foiled his plan by diving and groping his way along the bottom. He found his way to a safe exit point in a bay. Surprising Redbeard, Grettir threw him to the ground. When Redbeard lost his sword, Grettir swooped to retrieve it and lopped off his head. Grettir was not only an accomplished distance swimmer but an accomplished free-diver as well. His maneuvering offers clues on how free-divers in the north oriented themselves underwater by feel and bottom topography. While living for two winters on the island of Drangey off the north coast of Iceland, Grettir gave further proof of swimming prowess. He was assisted on that barren refuge by his brother Illugi and a servant Glaum (Thornbjorn). Glaum was responsible for collecting driftwood and watching the fire at night. Over time, he grew resentful and one night let the fire go out. The trio had no boat of their own. As an outlaw, Grettir chose for his hideout a deserted island that no boat would visit anytime soon. He therefore proposed to swim the channel separating their refuge from Iceland and obtain fire at Reykir along the coast. Illugi begged his brother not to attempt the 7.5 km swim in winter. But the hero could not be dissuaded. Grettir prepared himself by donning a cowl, perhaps of sealskin, and coarse woolen breeches. He again hiked up the upper garment and tucked it into his breeches. Grettir tied his fingers together in a webbed arrangement to keep them warm and add power to his stroke. He began to swim late in the day because the weather was calm and the current helped him. After dark he reached landfall at Reykir. Grettir took a long bath in the hot springs. Extremely weary, he managed to reach the hall of a local

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homestead where he collapsed and fell sound asleep. The farmer who owned the homestead was impressed by the feat of swimming the fjord. He ferried Grettir and the fire he needed back to Drangey on his boat. Icelanders and foreigners still attempt the swim from Drangey to Reykir, but they first grease their bodies or don a wet suit.53 In addition to distance swimming, northern swimmers engaged in aquatic duels. In Celtic lore, Cúchulainn met Fannel mac Nechtan at a river ford where they squared off to wrestle. The mighty Cúchulainn pulled Fannel to the surface, lopped off his head with a sword, and dropped the headless corpse into the current to be carried to oblivion.54 From birth, Fionn mac Cumhaill had an exceptional tie to the sea and revealed himself a born swimmer. When his grandfather threw him as a baby into the water, he swam back holding an eel. Some years later, he came upon a group of youths competing at hurling on the green of a fort along the River Liffey. Fionn did not know that the gang had been instructed to kill him. Over the course of several days Fionn defeated ever greater numbers of the hurlers until it came to a fight. The band attacked him with their hurlets, Fionn “prostrated” seven of the youths, and he took refuge in the forest. He emerged at the end of a week and went back to the same place. This time he found the young men hard at swimming in the lake. The hotheads had not learned their lesson. When they challenged Fionn to swim, he plunged in. They tried to drown him but failed. So Fionn pushed nine of them underwater until they succumbed.55 The Laxardal saga offers a picture of a dunking contest at Trondheim between the voyaging Icelander Kjartan and an unnamed local Norwegian. Kjartan and his crew arrived on a pleasant autumn day to find the residents swimming in the Nid River. They wondered how Icelanders would fare against their Norwegian counterparts. Kjartan noticed one local who surpassed the rest, and he decided to take him on. The combatants agreed on a best of three match. Round 1 went to Kjartan who dunked the skilled local, kept him down for a time, and then allowed him up. Both took a break, during which they may have treaded water. Round two saw the local grab Kjartan and dunk him for a time entirely long enough. When Kjartan surfaced, the two exchanged no words. Round three saw both submerge together to see who could hold his breath for the longest time. The immersion lasted so long that Kjartan felt he was in the tightest bind of his life. Both headed for the riverbank to revive. 53 Grettir’s Saga 38, 56, 75–77. 54 Táin Bó Cuilnge (Cattle Raid of Cooley) 26 (LL.67a) (Cuchullin Saga, 1898, 151). 55 P. Kennedy, 1854–59, 14–15. Modern retelling in Freeman, 154–55. See, e.g., Ó Hógáin, 215–16.

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As they conversed Kjartan learned that he had competed against Olaf, king of Norway.56 The saga of Thrand the Gate offered a prequel to the Trondheim water combat. It described the invitation that King Olaf made to Sigmund Brestisson, hero of the Orkneys and proselytizer of the Faroes, to engage in a skills competition. The competition involved archery and swimming, in which Olaf mastered Sigmund as he had everyone else in Norway.57 The Heimskringla, sagas of the Norwegian kings redacted by the Icelandic chieftain Snorri Sturlusson (d. 1241), offer further evidence for the pride monarchs took in winning aquatic duels. Like drunken sailors, King Sigurd and his brother King Eystein bragged about their valor. Whereas Sigurd boasted that he could dunk his brother whenever he wanted, Eystein retorted that he could match Sigurd in distance swimming and could also dive and swim underwater.58 The conjunction is not fortuitous: skill in a dunking contest would develop habits useful to a free-diver. A good dunking combatant had sound breath control and did not panic underwater. King Sigurd gave proof of his vaunted dunking ability on a day when he had anchored his vessel in a harbor alongside an Icelandic merchant ship. The sun was shining and the weather optimal for swimming. King Sigurd noticed a bullying Icelandic swimmer, who took delight in dunking those who did not swim well. The king stripped, jumped in the water, swam to the hazing Icelander, dunked him, and held him under. When the Icelander came up, the king again dunked him. Time after time, the king pushed the Icelander under until Sigurd Sigurdson intervened in fear for the life of the bully. Sigurd complimented the king for swimming better than his antagonist and offered to fight him. That led the king to relent and let the tormenter go.59 3

Free-Diving Heroes of Medieval Legend

3.1 Beowulf for the Anglo-Saxons Beowulf proved as redoubtable a hero when free-diving as he did when swimming. Vested in his trusty mail, he dived to the monster-mere to battle Grendel’s mother for a full day. In the end, Beowulf owed his victory to the protective mail the mother could not pierce and a weighty battle-sword he 56 Laxardal Saga 40. See, e.g., Wieting, 72–78. 57 Faereyinga saga (Saga of Thrand the Gate) 32. 58 Sturlusson Heimskringla “Saga of Sigurd the Crusader and His Brothers Eystein and Olaf” 24. 59 Sturlusson Heimskringla “Saga of Sigurd the Crusader and his Brothers Eystein and Olaf” 35.

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plucked from her arsenal. After dispatching the monster, Beowulf swam back to the surface. He brought the head of murderous Grendel and the jeweled hilt of the cleaving sword. When his companions saw the surface seething with gore, they assumed the worst and left for home. Beowulf had to swim his prizes all the way to land. The imaginative world of medieval epic and saga seemed to envision watertight underwater living quarters. The high-roofed hall of Grendel’s mother was illuminated by firelight. The two did not swim to fight. They engaged in land combat. The dimensions of space and time – under the sea for an entire day – are far-fetched, though revisionism also needs balance.60 An epic about the greatest Anglo-Saxon hero and tales of pre-settlement Celtic and Viking heroes did not necessarily have realism for their goal. And, in rhetoric and poetry, metaphor is a vital trope.61 In Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, and Norse cultures, the amazing on land needed to be matched by the amazing on and under the sea because the peoples of those cultures spent their lives moving between the two.62 3.2 Free-Diving in Celtic Legends There were all sorts of hidden treasures and strange creatures beneath the Irish waters. In The Fate of the Children of Tuireann, Brian and his Celtic brothers needed to obtain a cooking-spit from the women who lived on the island of Fianchaire, a Celtic Atlantis. When Brian went in search of the island, he dived in water dress (some sort of insulating clothing?) and a helmet that permitted light to enter (imagined as made of glass?). For two weeks, he walked underwater in search of the sunken island. Upon locating Fianchaire, he entered the court where he found a troop of women busy embroidering. Because Brian had the courage to take the cooking-spit from one of the women, the others decided not to fight back. They respected his bravado. The brothers waited for Brian to return from his diving. Sometime into the fortnight, they decided that he had not survived. They started to sail away without him when they spotted him coming on the “bosom of the wave,” suggesting that Brian swam a vigorous breaststroke.63 Celtic heroes had numerous opportunities to fight the giant fish and fearsome dragons that inhabited the lakes and rivers of Ireland. Fergus mac Léti slew the dreaded muirdris at the bottom of Loch Rudraige. Fionn mac 60 61 62 63

See, e.g., Orchard, 125–28, 248–52. See esp. Fulk. Bettini, 131–43. Oidhe chloinne Tuireann 61 (The Fate of the Children of Tuireann, 1901, 128–30, quote on 130).

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Cumhaill made his famous “serpent kills.” And the tradition carried on from the island’s Celtic heroes to its Christian saints.64 St. Colm Cille (Columba) used the sign of the cross to stop marine creatures from doing harm or repair the harm they had done. While preaching to a crowd, Colm Cille was rudely interrupted by a serpent, who killed a boy swimming the river to hear him. The dead lad was brought to the abbot, who made a sign of the cross over his heart and revived him.65 While traveling through the province of the Picts (Scots), Colm Cille had to cross the Ness River. He noticed that the residents were burying a man chewed to bits by the monster living in its depths. Colm Cille sent one of his companions named Lugne moccu Min to fetch a boat on the opposite bank. Lugne stripped off all his clothes except for his tunic. As he swam, the monster sensed the vibrations and darted after him with mouth agape. Colm Cille prayed to God, made the sign of the cross, and warned the monster not to go any farther in the direction of Lugne. The terrified monster migrated from the river to the Loch where 1300 years later it remains a leading Scottish tourist attraction.66 St. Mochua of Balla one day went to Loch Cime where he met Cellach, king of Connaught out hunting. A deer that the king’s party was chasing took refuge on a great stone in the Loch. The hunters halted, knowing that the lake lodged a beast who slaughtered swimmers. The king proposed to Mochua that a member of his household attempt the swim under Mochua’s protection. Mochua agreed, emphasizing it is God who is able. The hunter swam to the rock and killed the deer. As he was swimming back, the dreaded monster appeared and consumed him “as one morsel.”67 Mochua turned his wrath on the monster, who spat up the hunter whole. From that day onwards, the beast in Loch Cime never harmed another person. He repented of his deed (by spitting out the hunter) and converted to a better way of life (by never harming a soul thereafter). 3.3 Free-Diving in Nordic Sagas In Icelandic sagas, heroes free-dived to slay monsters and recover valuable objects. Salvage diving remained a prized skill in northern Europe. Grettir’s saga has an encounter with a monster that resembles that of Beowulf battling 64 See, e.g., Gaidoz, 133–37. 65 Lives of the Saints, 1890, 179. 66 Adomnán of Iona 2.27 (Vita Sancti Columbae, 1857, 140–42). See, e.g., Ó Hógáin, 93. When a water monster ate an innocent young girl doing laundry at the edge of a lake, St. Colmán of Drumore prayed, the monster vomited, and the girl emerged from the monster’s stomach none the worse for being swallowed alive; see Vita Sancti Columbae, 1857, 140–41nC. 67 Lives of the Saints, 1890, 284.

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Grendel’s mother. When a giant she-troll attacked Grettir, he lopped off the troll’s right arm, and the troll fled. She threw herself into a waterfall nearby. A priest named Steinn had a hard time believing Grettir’s claim that a giant shetroll leapt into the waterfall and got away. The two went to examine the site, where they noticed a cave in the cliff behind the falls. The cave seemed inaccessible. To reach it one had to jump 18 m down the falls, land in the pool at the bottom, and then climb back up the steep cliff to the cave. The pair first rigged a strong rope. At one end they attached a stone for deadweight, and they used stakes and stones to anchor the other in the ground. They let the weighted end down so that it would be in position when Grettir had to climb back up. The priest promised to tend the rope but soon abandoned Grettir to his fate. Grettir dressed in minimal clothing and took only his short sword. He leapt from the cliff into the pool. Grettir’s feet alone were visible as he dived below the surface to swim under the falls. Grettir struggled in the powerful eddies until he got all the way to the bottom. He came up behind the falls, climbed to the cave, and entered. Grettir killed the horrid giant sitting by a roaring fire and confirmed that it was she who had terrorized the locals. He found stolen valuables and the bones of two missing men. The narrative suggests that free-diving in the north may have included a tender and rope for added safety.68 In fulfilling his mission Grettir recovered valuable objects from the troll’s cave. Free-divers in the sagas retrieved other items, some of substantial burden. In the saga of Egil, his father Skallagrim lived in the western part of Iceland and worked as a blacksmith. He operated his smithy close by the sea but still needed a good stone for his anvil and could not find one on land that was hard and smooth enough.69 One night, after all were in bed, he embarked alone in his eight-oared boat. When he reached the middle of the fjord, he anchored the boat and dived to the bottom. There he found a great stone, swam it to the surface, and loaded it onto his boat. Although four men could not lift the massive stone, Skallagrim brought it to his smithy-door. The stone made an ideal anvil not only for its density but because the sea had polished it smooth. Tourists today are still shown the “forge of Skallagrim.” In the sagas of Prehistoric Times, the Fornaldarsögur, three immersions seemed the key to success when salvage diving. Asmund the Champion-killer sought to win the hand of the dead king’s daughter. To do so, she bade him recover her father’s sword. So Asmund went to visit a farmer reputed to know the location of the sword. It turned out that the farmer was present on the day

68 Grettir’s Saga 65–66. 69 Egil’s Saga 30. See, e.g., Jørgensen, 307–08, 313–15.

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that “the sword was sunk.”70 Before the two set off the farmer prepared a slab of bacon and firewood. They would warm up Asmund after his diving. The pair boarded the farmer’s boat and progressed until the farmer, without warning, shouted, “Here.” The Champion-killer immediately went overboard and dived to the bottom. He resurfaced without the sword and prepared to dive a second time. The farmer insisted that he take nourishment first. On the second dive, Asmund recognized the sword’s casing, raised something mysterious to the surface, and warmed up again. On the third, he brought up the case. When Asmund struck it with his axe, the blow caused the point of the axe head to break off and stick to the sword. As a token of gratitude, Asmund gave the farmer a gold ring. The saga of King Hrolf Kraki claimed that, at age 12, Agnar, son of King Hroar of Roskilde, decided to pin down the location in a fjord where a jarl named Hrok had cast King Hroar’s ring. Many before Agnar had searched for the ring, but they had failed to salvage it. Agnar sailed into the fjord and realized that he needed bearings. He asked those living near the fjord where the ring lay, and they gave him directions. Agnar dived a first time at that spot but did not find the ring. He dived a second time without success. Agnar grew irritated with himself for searching a bit carelessly. Nonetheless, he dived a third time, found the ring on the bottom, and retrieved it.71 4

Swimming and Free-Diving in Northern European Histories

4.1 Saxo Grammaticus and the Danes As a historian of Denmark, Saxo Grammaticus won respect all over medieval Europe. His history ran from the mythical king Dan to approximately 1185, covering both the pre-conversion and conversion eras. The work was commissioned by Archbishop Absalon (1128–1201), who also became a trusted source of information. As a close advisor to King Valdemar I (r. 1157–82), Bishop Absalon had a vested interest in the ideological emphases of the history.72 Saxo presented swimming as a vital skill whose practitioners were admired. He included swimming among a variety of activities cherished by ancient authors such as Cato and Vegetius. Its worth persisted into Danish history. As a 70 Asmund the Champion Slayer 5, The Complete Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda website, http://www.germanicmythology.com/FORNALDARSAGAS/AsmundChampionSlayer Hardman.html. See, e.g., Ciklamini, 271–72, 275–78. 71 Saga of King Hrolf Kraki 9 (Saga of King Hrolf Kraki, 1998, 19). 72 See, e.g., Sawyer, 1985; and Sawyer, “Saxo Grammaticus,” in Oxford Dictionary of the Middle Ages, http://www.oxfordreference.com.

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ward under the tutelage of King Gevar of Norway, the boy Høther engaged in a regimen of physical exercise commensurate with his developing physique and promising agility. Saxo mentioned that Høther received training in swimming, archery, and boxing.73 Saxo saw swimming as helpful primarily in a military context. In one instance swimming contributed to public order as well. When King Frothi I fought a naval battle against Prince Trann of the Ruthenians, he resorted to subterfuge to gain an advantage. Under cover of night, Frothi and a select crew loaded a supply of pegs, approached each ship in the fleet of Trann, quietly used an auger to drill a hole in the hull at the waterline, and then inserted a peg to plug the hole. Frothi closed the holes temporarily so that the first ship did not fill with water before he had sabotaged the others. When he had drilled enough holes to neutralize the enemy’s strength, he pulled the plugs one by one and had his fleet surround that of Trann. Saxo characterized the ploy as brilliant because it put the Ruthenians in double peril: they had to withstand weapons and waves. They fought with swords to save their ships, and they swam to save themselves. Both the sword and sea proved deadly. Frothi conquered the Ruthenians and returned home to Denmark. The stratagem of drilling holes in enemy ships was time-tested. It had been used previously by the legendary King Hadding, and it was used to great effect by Erik the Eloquent.74 Born in Norway, Erik had to outwit the Danish wizard Oddi. Oddi had spells that could raise storms menacing to seafarers. Erik sent to Oddi two naked crew members fluent in Danish. They explained that, out of hatred, their own countrymen had humiliated them. The mendacious pair managed to ingratiate themselves with the wizard and became spies for Erik. They were able to communicate Oddi’s plan for the impending naval battle. He was going to attack the Norwegians at dawn, when they would still be wrapped in blankets. Oddi loaded his ships with stones that his men could hurl. Instead, Erik used the spies’ information and his own cunning to compensate for the fact that Oddi outnumbered his ships seven to three. To better his odds, he implemented the leaky boat stratagem. When the water reached the level of the rowers’ benches, Oddi issued an appropriate command to bail. However, the stones meant as missiles contributed to the victory of gravity over buoyancy. While Oddi’s men bailed, Erik attacked with his ships. Oddi faced a no-win situation: if his men

73 Saxo Grammaticus 3.2.1 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:144–45), 5.3.10 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:282–83). 74 Saxo Grammaticus 2.1.6 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:82–83).

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stopped bailing to fight, the flooding would increase. They decided to swim for it. While in the water, Oddi and his crews were massacred.75 Erik’s ability to swim eventually earned him the grateful trust of King Frothi III. The process was complicated. It began when, out of jealousy, Frothi threw a dagger at Erik. Tipped off by his fiancée Gunvara, Frothi’s sister, Erik dodged the missile. Having seen the king’s envy turn to murderous rage, Erik decided to flee Denmark. To prevent the king from pursuing him, Erik sabotaged the royal ships by drilling the customary holes. As the ships sank, the waves swept the rowers from their benches. King Frothi made an impulsive choice to abandon ship. Frothi tried to swim, but, weighed down by armor, he had only the oars of his arms for support. The comparison of swimming arms to oars had a solid ancient pedigree. At that point, Erik and his brother Roller aborted their flight and dived into the water to save the king. Erik grabbed the king by his hair and helped him into his boat. The other swimmers either got to land after a struggle or drowned in the water. Once out of the water, the king still needed assistance. Erik stripped him of his wet clothes and wrapped him in dry ones. Frothi began to vomit up the water he had swallowed. He remonstrated with his rescuers and told them he wanted to die. It was an indignity for the king to be beaten in eloquence, and it was degrading for the king to fall captive to his eloquent foe. Erik assured the king that swimming away in full armor was more to his glory than his shame. He was still king.76 Saxo supplied an account of the splendid swimming stead of Biorn. It harkens back to the glory days of the Batavi and reflects the knightly society for which Saxo wrote. Biorn’s horse was impressive for its magnificent strength and speed on swift hoofs. The northern Europeans had developed a way to test horses for swimming abilities. They would drive a group of riderless horses into a river. The one that did not rush out revealed itself the cream of the crop. For the horse of Biorn, they got clearer proof. Whereas all the others lacked the strength to cross the powerful river, Biorn’s horse stormed into the roaring eddy. What made that behavior impressive was the extraordinary character of the stream, which gained volume and speed as it flowed down from the summit of the surrounding hills. The river mocked the boulders in its path as they tried in vain to stem its momentum. While white-water rapids spilled past every obstacle, Biorn’s horse embraced the challenge.77 Saxo described the swimming escape of the foster-brothers Gunni and Jarmerik. Jarmerik was heir to the throne of Denmark. The brothers killed the 75 Saxo Grammaticus 5.2.10–13 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:270–73). 76 Saxo Grammaticus 5.3.19–22 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:290–99). 77 Saxo Grammaticus 6.2.7–10 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:360–65).

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Wendish King Ismar and his queen, after the king had made them slave laborers on his properties. While fleeing their pursuers, the two came to a bridge. In planning their escape, the two had previously compromised its wooden surface. They avoided the bridge altogether, entered the dark depths of the river, and swam across. The unsuspecting Wends rode right into the trap. When the bridge gave way under the collective weight of horses and riders, they were tossed into the river. The Wends either drowned trying to swim to safety, or they were killed by the brothers once they swam to the riverbank and tried to pull themselves out. The narrative establishes that Danish royalty and Wendish warriors knew how to swim. Saxo emphasized that the brothers were about to be caught when swimming saved them.78 Saxo illustrated the ways that the Norwegian pretender Sigurd (Sivard) Slembir (Slembedjakn) used swimming on two occasions to save his own life. Sigurd was taken captive by his rival, the Norwegian king Harald Gilli (Harald of Ireland). As he was being ferried for drowning at sea, he managed to get the ship’s crew drunk. Sigurd then asked that they grant him one final wish. He conned them into letting him take the helm and exhorted them to pull with all their might. Once the ship was moving at high speed, he flung away the quarter rudder (gubernaculum), jumped headlong into the waves, and reached shore as the executioner’s vessel sped away out of control. Sigurd then surprised Harald, in the company of his mistress, and stabbed him to death. Revenge was not long in coming. For a time, Sigurd’s swimming preserved his life in a naval battle with the three sons of Harald Gilli. Seeing all his companions killed, Sigurd defended his ship until overwhelmed. At that point he turned to his peculiar expertise in swimming (singulari nandi peritia). Even though it was almost wintertime and he was weighed down by armor, Sigurd threw himself into the deep. Safe underwater, Sigurd removed his leather corselet and the rest of his armor so that he could swim unhindered. When he surfaced to breathe, however, he realized that the remaining clothing gave him away. He submerged and stripped naked. Sigurd remained underwater for as long as he could in order to make the crew believe he had drowned. When he had to surface to breathe, he grasped the quarter rudder of the closest ship and remained as still as possible. The ruse worked for a time until the fierce cold sapped his strength.79 78 Saxo Grammaticus 8.10.4 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:578–81). 79 Saxo Grammaticus 14.29.2–3 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 2:1214–17). Earlier versions of the two swims are conserved in Sturlusson Heimskringla “Saga of Magnus the Blind and of Harald Gille” 16; “Saga of Sigurd, Inge, and Eystein, the Sons of Harald” 11. Olaus Magnus 10.25 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 352–53; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:506–07) cited the episodes and introduced Frondicius from Plin. HN 17.7.

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In a final example Saxo paid homage to swimming and his patron, Bishop Absalon. Matters began with a bridge to a town on an island that had partially collapsed. King Valdemar had placed the Wendish town under siege, but he was frustrated by his inability to force the bridge. His soldiers had to cross the bridge slowly, given its precarious condition. That created a logjam. Valdemar was afraid that the residents might even burn it. At that point, the Danish knight Herbord, anxious that he could not get over the rickety bridge before sunset, skipped the bridge altogether and had his horse swim across. To his regret that success triggered a stampede of his comrades trying to reach him on the town side. As they crowded onto the bridge, it collapsed altogether. Now it was Bishop Absalon’s turn to use his dexterity in swimming (nandi astu). In full armor he managed to save himself and those who did not know the art (eius artis ignarus). Upper-class Danes, a knight and a bishop, had mastered the art of swimming, while some among the common soldiers were ignorant of the art. As the Danes reached the besieged town, the Wends looked for a way to escape. They had not prepared boats, so they tried to swim with the aid of large wine barrels (dolia). Saxo confessed that the misery of the Wends, spun all around in the current, amused the Danish fighters. Centuries later, Olaus Magnus emphasized that Herbord had led the way by using his “remarkable ability to swim” (incredibili nandi virtute).80 4.2 Olaus Magnus and Swimming among the Northern Peoples When Olaus Magnus (1490–1557) treated swimming in his compendium on the Peoples of the North, he drew multiple illustrations from the history of Saxo Grammaticus. Olaus began by discussing swimming as an art. Although bad luck and rash decision-making might lead a foot soldier or knight to try to swim a raging abyss, the northern Germans (Gothi) had long committed themselves not to neglect any necessary form of military training. That included the “art and practice of swimming on the waters” (ars et usus aquis innatandi).81 The magnitude and width of rivers goaded northern Europeans to learn to swim. The peoples of the north emphasized a military criterion for proficiency: they desired a level of swimming that would allow soldiers to swim across rivers in order to resist or retreat. Preparation was essential. Surging rivers or enemy sabotage might destroy bridges, riverbanks might have stakes fixed in them, 80 Saxo Grammaticus 14.47.8 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 2:1378–81). The episode is summarized by Olaus Magnus 10.28 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 355; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:511). 81 Olaus Magnus 10.23 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 350; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:504–05).

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and swamps might be booby-trapped with sharpened rods hidden underwater. A warrior’s equipment should not make a difference. He must be prepared to swim across the river burdened by arms or mounted on a horse. According to the sources that Olaus consulted, the Germans trained their horses in swimming as extensively as they trained their soldiers. He adduced Tacitus and Herodianus from antiquity, and he cited Saxo’s account of Biorn’s horse. For the classical authors Olaus may have used a compilation on German swimming that Franciscus Irenicus had published. For Tacitus he meant the remark in the Histories that the Batavi had a select body of cavalry who excelled in swimming. In Herodianus things did not go all that well for the Germans. Unfamiliar with the swift currents of Italian rivers, the Germans plunged in with their horses who were used to swimming across rivers (dianēchesthai) but soon found themselves swept away.82 To compensate when individuals were overly corpulent or less well trained in the “swimming art,” the Germans devised aids for crossing a river.83 That led to an abridged method of swimming (compendium artis), where a swimming soldier could use the assistance of ropes strung across the river. The end on the enemy side of the river was staked into the riverbed out of harm’s way. The inexperienced or chubby swimmer could grasp the rope with one hand and twist the other in the water. Through diligent practice, northerners mastered the art of swimming so well that they could save themselves and others shipwrecked in storms. Olaus cited three ancient examples of lifesaving. He adduced the contrast that Herodotus drew between civilized Athenians at Salamis who swam to safety and barbarian Persians who drowned. He added Caesar’s self-rescue at Alexandria and Cloelia’s escape from the Etruscans holding her hostage.84 Olaus likewise cited instances from Saxo Grammaticus of swimming northerners who rescued themselves or others. One of them was Erik the Eloquent and his brother Roller, who saved the despondent King Frothi III. The accompanying woodcut shows Erik and Frothi in the water, both wearing crowns. Erik is clasping the hair of the sovereign who had so recently tried to kill him. That led Olaus to mention earlier examples involving royalty. Cassiodorus described 82 Tac. Hist. 4.12; and Hdn. 8.4.3, both cited in Franciscus Irenicus 2.23 (Germaniae Exegeseos volumina duodecima, 1518, fol. 36v). Saxo Grammaticus 6.2.3–4, 6 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:358–61). 83 Olaus Magnus 10.25 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 352; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:506–07). 84 Olaus Magnus 10.27–28 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 355; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:510–11), referencing BAlex. 21; Suet. Iul. 64; Hdt. 8.89; Livy 2.13.6.

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Erik the Eloquent rescuing King Frothi III

the patrician Tuluin, a military commander for Theodoric, saving himself after shipwreck by rowing with his arms. Theodoric had rushed to the shore and was ready to attempt an in-water rescue. Olaus contrasted that episode to Paul the Deacon’s account of the Lombard King Aripert drowning because he lacked experience in swimming, had no one to assist him, and still tried to expatriate with a substantial quantity of gold.85 Olaus specified that it was best to teach swimming in boyhood and adolescence. An individual needed to learn at a young age. The northern peoples utilized flotation devices when teaching beginners. A woodcut showed novices using an inflated skin or a reed mat. Providing a float when instructing youngsters would stoke their desire to practice. Floats were tools of the swimmer’s art (natatoria ars). In times past, northerners maintained the custom of early swim lessons so that they could send their sons to dive into swift rivers and deep abysses. The art lay in resurfacing to breathe. Northern youth were expected to handle difficult swimming as well as they handled a horse going down steep terrain. From ancient times, a wily commander might turn a land battle into a sea battle by forcing the opponent to fight on marshy terrain. By way of ancient example, Olaus pointed to a battle between Romans and Germans in 235 CE. The Germans had no qualms about engaging in a pitched battle in a marsh 85 Olaus Magnus 10.26 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 353–54; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:508–09), referencing Saxo Grammaticus 5.3.19–20 (Gesta Danorum, 2015, 1:290–93); Cassiod. Var. 8.10; and Paul the Deacon Historia Langobardorum 6.35.

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whose waters reached above a horse’s belly. It was second nature to a German to swim his horse in battle. The Romans hesitated to pursue the retreating enemy because they feared a massacre in such terrain. Olaus had already noted a practice of fixing sharpened rods in concealing waters. When the emperor Maximinus (r. 235–38 CE) plunged into the bog on horseback and began to slaughter the barbarians, he gave heart to his troops who waded in behind him.86 Olaus returned to the subject of flotation devices, this time for use by soldiers. He contended that they could swim, whether naked or in armor, if they used an inflated leather skin for added buoyancy. However, the devices should only be distributed to soldiers who do not possess the “art of swimming.” A woodcut shows a leather ring wrapped around a soldier’s chest and suspended by straps from his shoulders. The soldier is using a tube to add air to the ring and is resting his extended arms on top of it. The text indicates that the ring was tied under the arms. It needed some form of anchoring to prevent it from floating off the soldier’s body. Olaus compared the device to the harness used for a horse hauling a cart. Once the wearer inflated the ring, he should make gentle movements with his hands and feet and propel himself to the location he needed to reach. He could also float in the water, even in armor. Olaus did caution the wearer not to bend his head downwards because that would cause the enclosed air to yield to a heavier weight. The obscure Latin phrasing suggests that bending the body weight over the tube would sink the float or force air to escape through the tube. It seems a case where the device was tested in the water.87 In his final chapters on swimming, Olaus emphasized that it was an art, not a natural ability, and he illustrated how effective the art had proven in antiquity. He was a scholar of the Renaissance. He repeated his conviction that childhood was the ideal age to begin instruction in the art (in arte natandi). He explained his classical sense of the term ars. Whereas all other creatures possess a natural ability to swim, humans alone need training and practice. The benefits were not merely for the individual. Assiduous swim practice was of great utility to the commonwealth. However, it did no good to learn the art at a young age if one did not maintain the skill. 86 Olaus Magnus 10.27 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 355; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:509–10), citing Hdn. 7.2.6–7. Olaus followed earlier historians like Iordanes (c. 550) in identifying Maximinus as a Goth, not a Thracian. See, e.g., Pearson, 91–92. 87 Olaus Magnus 10.29 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 356; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:511–12): “Sed cavendum est, ne caput inclinet deorsum, ne forte ventus culeo inclusus graviori mole succumbat.”

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figure 8 Soldier equipped with a ring float

To prove swimming’s utility later in life, Olaus offered a series of ancient examples that stretch over two chapters. His reading of sources was not always incisive. Sertorius swam across the Rhône after he was wounded and lost his horse. Olaus then produced a quotation from Silius Italicus that described Scipio, whom Olaus took to be Sertorius. Alexander lamented that he did not acquire the art of swimming and gain facility through repetition (arte et experientia nandi). He had problems when crossing a formidable river whose water reached his horse’s neck. But Alexander showed his soldiers the way by using his shield as a flotation device. His army followed him across by swimming, holding onto horses, supporting themselves with packs and spears, or wading. Plutarch only said that Alexander was ready to rouse his troops by wading across with his shield, not that he did so. A Roman soldier named Scaevola

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(i.e., Scaeva) swam while fighting for Caesar in Britain. Valerius Maximus documented the usefulness of swimming to Rome during the First Punic War.88 Throughout, Olaus underlined the value of swimming for warfare. The northern peoples had long prized swimming as part of their military training. Northern Europe, unlike the Mediterranean, had many impressive rivers draining the terrain. From ancient times the ability to swim gave soldiers the courage to challenge a vigorous stream. The peoples trained their horses to swim as extensively as they trained their fighters. They even elaborated techniques for the way a knight should sit on his horse to assist the horse’s breathing and prevent it from drowning. The rider should lift his knees and feet and then lean back slightly. In general, he should remain as motionless as possible and give the horse free rein. The only spur to the horse should be a soft click of the knight’s tongue, of the sort employed during feeding.89 The peoples of the north made special accommodation for soldiers who were not terribly proficient swimmers or were overweight. The abridged method taught a poor swimmer or paunchy soldier to grasp a guide rope with one hand and move the other in a sculling motion. Northerners could turn land battles into naval battles by choosing the field shrewdly. Olaus chose examples from history to underline the value of swimming as a lifesaving skill. Swimming also proved an aid to flight. The examples that Olaus cited ranged over sixteen centuries from the Athenian victory at Salamis to that of Herbord and Absalon at the dangerous Wendish bridge. Olaus featured famous examples from ancient warfare that illustrated the tactical importance of swimming. He may have found that information directly in ancient sources like Valerius Maximus or more likely mediated in the work of a fellow bishop, Francesco Patrizi.90 The technology of an inflated leather ring for less skillful soldiers had its inspiration in the inflated floats that ancient generals had improvised and contemporary engineers were redesigning. The woodcuts that accompany the 1555 Roman edition of Magnus’s tome enhance the text. A vivid woodcut in a later chapter gave clear proof of the danger that dogfish pose to swimmers in the open seas of the north. Three dogfish have sunk their teeth into the naked swimmer while a bizarre ray pulls a fourth away from him. Magnus described how foreign sailors, arriving along the coast of Norway and unaware of any danger, leapt overboard for a quick, 88 Olaus Magnus 10.30–31 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 356–57; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:512–13). Magnus drew his classical references from Francesco Patrizi De regno 3.4. 89 Olaus Magnus 10.24 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 351; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:505–06). 90 Patrizi De regno 3.4 (infra).

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Dogfish attacking a foreign sailor as he goes for a swim

refreshing swim. Wily dogfish hid under ships riding at anchor. Several formed a line of battle to assault the naive swimmer. They dragged him to the bottom by pooling their clamping bite and collective weight. Dogfish delighted in the softer flesh of the human anatomy: the nostrils, the fingers, and the genitals. Fortunately, a northern ray had greater solidarity with humans than its smothering Mediterranean cousins. Armed with sharp fins, the ray chased off the dogfish and encouraged the wounded sailor to use his strength to swim. If the sailor was too weak, the ray protected him until he expired. Unlike unsuspecting foreigners, local swimmers defended against the dogfish by arming themselves with sharp stakes fixed to a line. They killed hostile dogfish by piercing the rough skin and penetrating the soft flesh below. Pliny had ancient freedivers use the same weapon against an ox-ray. It is difficult to comprehend how a northern swimmer could focus on killing one dogfish and not have problems with the rest of the battle line.91 4.3 Olaus Magnus and Free-Diving among the Northern Peoples Olaus Magnus linked the related skills of swimming and free-diving when he discussed popular nautical tournaments. Swimming was requisite for jousts on boats. Ship-masters (naucleri) stood on a stern platform armed with a lance and steadied themselves for the moment when the boats rowed by teammates met. In the event that a combatant might be un-boated, he normally wore a 91 Olaus Magnus 21.35 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 764–65; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 3:1119–20), referencing Albertus Magnus De animalibus 24.1.28; and Plin. HN 9.151 (the sharpened spikes against the ray).

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safety line. Support boats circulated to pluck a fallen fighter from the water. The precautions suggest that the competitors could survive for a short time by treading water but welcomed rapid intervention by rescue crews. Magnus did note that some contestants to whom the art of swimming had become second nature from boyhood disdained the protection of the rope. Participants were willing to joust for a variety of reasons. It supplied schooling in combat, it eased the boredom of sailors stuck in harbor by contrary winds, and it became a form of naval punishment. As in all tournaments, it provided a way to impress the attending sovereign with one’s courage. Olaus portrayed ordinary sailors as spirited participants in other competitive events. They could practice the art of diving by vying to retrieve something that had fallen to the bottom of the sea.92 That suggests a link in the north between crewing a ship and free-diving. Olaus was aware that in antiquity and his own day divers carried messages to an army under siege. In the winter of 43 BCE, Mark Antony had hemmed in the army of Decimus Iunius Brutus at Mutina (Modena). Magnus cited Pliny the Elder for messages that Brutus delivered by carrier-pigeon from Mutina to the camp of a relief force. Brutus could not use divers once Antony had placed a barrier of nets in the river. Magnus then made an obscure reference to divers who went back and forth from Cologne (Colonia) to Nice (Nicensis civitas) when Philip the Good of Burgundy besieged the latter. He referred the reader to Adolf Krantz for more information, meaning the account in Krantz of the siege of Neuss (Novaesium) by Charles the Bold of Burgundy from 1474– 75. During the conflict, troops from Cologne, encamped on the opposite side of the Rhine, devised ways to get messages into the besieged city. They included signal fires, hollowed-out cannonballs, and swimmer-divers. The swimmers put their messages inside wooden bottles. The Burgundians caught at least one as he tried to swim across the river. Having acknowledged the effectiveness of the stratagem, Archbishop Olaus then suggested neutralizing underwater communication by utilizing the type of nets set in streams to catch beavers.93 He knew of a method for salvaging ships by using lifting hulls for buoyancy and explicitly mentioned the contribution of free-divers who had to fix strong hawsers under the sunken vessel.94

92 Olaus Magnus 15.22 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 516; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:747). See, e.g., Newman, 102, 163–64. 93 Olaus Magnus 5.20 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 186; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 1:262–63), citing Plin. HN 10.110. See also Frontin. Str. 3.13.8. For the siege of Neuss, see, e.g., R. D. Smith and DeVries, 175–83. 94 Olaus Magnus 12.16 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 422; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:601–02). For the diving bird called a mergus, see 19.31

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Olaus discussed the danger that an octopus presented to divers. Octopi had a more savage thirst to kill a free-diver than any other marine creature. Fortunately, by turning an octopus over, humans could render the aggressive creature docile.95 Magnus also mentioned free-diving for pearls in his chapter on mining, arguing that it takes greater courage to confront the dangers of mining than it does diving for pearl oysters. Free-divers descend into the depths where marine beasts dwell, but, for Olaus, that paled before the dangers that miners constantly face. Olaus offered his comments on mining before he detailed the dangers of dogfish delighting in soft human flesh. And his solidarity with miners might be more impressive if he had given Pliny credit for his ideas, including the comparison to divers.96 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 675; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 3:982–83). 95 Olaus Magnus 21.34 (octopi), 36 (sponges and sea-nettles) (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 763–64, 765–66; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 3:1118–19, 1120–21). See Plin. HN 9.91. 96 Olaus Magnus 6.2 (Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, 1555, 204; Description of the Northern Peoples, 1996–98, 2:291–92). See Plin. HN 33.70–71.

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The Medieval Profession of Free-Diving … while was diligently searching the deep waters in a quest for that , he was awaited for a long time, but he never emerged from the lowest depth of the sea into which he had cast himself nor was he found alive at a later moment. Alessandro D’Alessandro Geniales dies 2.211

∵ Storytellers of Mediterranean Europe introduced their own fabled free-diver. His name was Cola Pesce (Cola the Fish), and he could compete with the likes of Cúchulainn, Beowulf, King Olaf, and other champion breath-holders in the North. When the legend of Cola went from oral tale to written text late in the twelfth century, medieval chroniclers differed on the space and time of his life. Some traced the hero’s origins to Bari in Puglia and others to Messina in Sicily. The time when Cola lived proved even more mutable. He tended to be a contemporary or near contemporary of the author who was celebrating his prowess. Cola supposedly lived under Guglielmo II of Sicily (r. 1166–89), Ruggero II of Sicily (r. 1127–54), and Frederick II of Sicily (r. 1198–1250). The evolving legend of Cola Pesce embellished compilations of courtiers’ trifles and arresting marvels. The troubadour Raimon Jordan sang of a human Cola who spent so much of his life with fish that, if he left the sea, he would die. While diving, Cola followed the ancients in releasing oil into the water column in order to see better. Sicilian fishermen still use that technique, especially when they are hunting octopi. In the profound abyss of the Straits of Messina, Cola reported to the sovereign that he had seen mountains and valleys, woods and fields, and trees with edible fruit. In a later phase, chroniclers tried to sift the legend for its more credible elements. Fra Salimbene explained why Cola had taken to a life in the sea. It resulted from a childhood fascination with fish and his mother’s frustration as he spent more and more time in the sea. Exasperated, she called down a curse on her son that had its desired effect. Cola became a merman and had to live 1 D’Alessandro, 1522, 69.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_011

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in the water. He dived on numerous occasions at Faro di Messina, the promontory at the northeastern edge of the Sicilian land mass. At times he did so to observe and then describe his discoveries for the king. On another occasion, he did so to retrieve a gold chalice that Frederick threw into the water. Alessandro D’Alessandro attributed his death to his diving for the chalice.2 Cola enjoyed a rebirth during the Renaissance. Gripping tales remained an appealing way to divulge the complexities of swimming and free-diving. His place of birth and moment in history proved no less labile than it had during the Middle Ages. In a poem published late in life, Giovanni Pontano identified Capo di Faro near Messina as Cola’s birthplace. Alessandro D’Alessandro claimed that he had heard the amazing tale of Cola from Pontano and yet indicated Catania as Cola’s birthplace. In 1540 the Spanish compiler Pedro Mejía (1497–1551) had Cola living at the time that Alfonso V of Aragon ruled Naples. Shortly thereafter, Antonio Filoteo degli Omodei (d. 1573) gave a date around 1460, moving Cola to the reign of Alfonso’s son Ferrante. Omodei granted that others had Cola living centuries earlier. The mathematician Girolamo Cardano (1501–76) calculated that Cola was a contemporary, flourishing around 1540. Cola’s renowned swimming ability helped him to hold his breath for hellacious intervals when free-diving. Cardano clocked him at three to four hours, Pontano and Omodei at three days, and the Jesuit Athanasius Kircher (1602– 80) at four to five days underwater.3 The elegant Latin poetry of Giovanni Pontano (1429–1503) tied Cola explicitly to Glaucus of Anthedon in antiquity. In a poem on the heavenly bodies entitled Urania (1505), Pontano drew on popular tradition to give a note of pathos to the life and death of Cola Pesce. Though nurtured with maternal care and educated in the humanities, Cola developed no interest in activities on land. He spurned hunting with a spear and took delight only in the caves of Neptune. His longings for the sea colored his relationship with his parents. Cola’s father introduced him to fishing and taught him to bend hooks and weight nets. By contrast, his mother fiercely reprimanded him for his love of the sea. In the end, she could not stop him from committing himself to the waves. He became so at home in the sea that he invaded forests shrouded below the surface and explored the secret hideout of Glaucus himself. Pontano’s astrological poem had Cola raised in Messina, whose straits were under constant threat from the sea-monsters Scylla and Charybdis. Cola’s 2 Pitrè, 1–13; and B. Croce, 268–72. Pitrè published several texts: Map (121), Gervase (122), Salimbene (122–23), Pipino (123–24), Ricobaldo (124), Raffaele da Volterra (124), Pontano (124–28), and Alessandro D’Alessandro (128–29). 3 See, e.g., Pitrè, 29–34.

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bravado led him one day to burst into the cave of dread Scylla. He arrived armed with his iron sword. Frightened by the sudden intruder, the hundred mouths of Scylla’s raging dogs and howling wolves went silent.4 Cola wounded Scylla, causing the fearsome monster to flee into the inner darkness. She hid far from the sea where she normally caused much grief. That allowed Cola to explore her cave. To his horror, he discovered cleaned bones and rotted limbs, mute testimony to the feasting of Scylla’s ravenous dogs. He also saw shattered ships and rowing benches ripped from their fastenings. Despoiling the ill-gotten spoils, Cola returned to the surface. A throng of his fellow citizens awaited his return along the shore, where he received a hero’s welcome. Matters changed when Frederick II organized contests for the festival day in Messina. The king promised the citizens the spectacle of a boat race whose winner would receive a cloak and twisted necklace of gold. The day would also feature a swimming race; to the victor went a cast bowl and Lombard sword. The king devised a special challenge for Cola, whom the admiring populace had acclaimed victor over the sea itself. Frederick threw a cup into the straits at the spot where roaring Charybdis emerged from her blue cave. For once in his life, Cola was held back by fear as he watched the surf pounding under the brilliant Sicilian sun. Frederick used a credible threat to move the spectacle along. If Cola did not bring back the cup, he was to be immediately seized and bound in chains as an impostor. Introduced in a poetic work on astrology, Cola resigned himself to his fate. He did not want to dishonor himself, and he judged the king harsher than fortune. Cola dived in pursuit of the cup as it spun in the whirlpool of Charybdis. As he grasped it tightly, the wild beast emerged from her hiding place, triggering a struggle of epic proportions. The submarine quaking made the sea rage, Mount Etna tremble, and the cities of Sicily sway. Finally, Charybdis uncoiled her tail and coiled it around Cola, beating him on the ground and dashing him against her cliffness. Urged on by the alignment of the stars, Cola had early in life left the earth to spend his life in the sea. He now met his destined doom and settled forever to the sea bottom.5

4 The Christian mythographer Fulgentius (c. 500 CE) had reconciled the Greek version of the myth, where Scylla’s upper body was transformed into dogs, and a Roman version, where she was transformed into wolves, by having both wolves and sea dogs grafted onto her loins. See, e.g., Brumble, 305–07, citing Fulgentius Mythologies 2.9. 5 Pontanus Urania 4.411–581 (Opera, 1513, fols. 79–81). See, e.g., Pitrè, 13–14, 124–28 (texts); Soldati, 292–94; B. Croce, 272–73; Hübner, 1979, 156–66; Haskell, 1998, 495–508; Haskell, 2003, 74–79; and Figliuolo.

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Medieval Salvage Diving in Law and Practice

1.1 From Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages In antiquity, free-diving for purposes of salvage at Ostia and Rome operated under the auspices of a trade association sanctioned by the government. The compendium of Roman law, the Corpus iuris civilis, had few stipulations on salvage activities. The basic principle of Roman salvage law recognized that all goods lost at sea, whether by jettison or shipwreck, remained the property of the owner who shipped them unless the owner explicitly abandoned his title. Salvors of sunken merchandise are mentioned only in passing. Merchants could hire a salvage company to recover lost goods and then had to pay the salvors fair compensation. The case of salvors who recovered goods without being hired to do so was not treated explicitly. That changed with the so-called Rhodian Sea Law (Nomos nautikos), a Byzantine collection put together in the seventh and eight centuries and incorporated later into the Basilica, imperial books of law compiled in Greek around 888. The Sea Law addressed distribution of profits from shipping, status of crews on board, and questions of liability. It specified penalties for criminal acts. Whereas swimming was marginal to the body of jurisprudence, free-diving was integral. The Byzantine Sea Law mentioned swimming when it discussed the rights of shippers who should receive compensation for protecting cargo and passengers. It distinguished between a merchant on board who was a good swimmer and one who was not. The merchant who swam well and was saved from the water had to pay 10% of gold and 20% of silver, while the merchant who had to cling to a spar had to pay 20% of gold and silver. The law sought to protect a merchant on board during a storm and keep sailors from robbing him. The maritime codes treated the question of jettisoning passengers. The Biblical story that kept the problem prominent for Jews, Christians, and Muslims was that of Jonah, cast from his ship into the mouth of a monster fish. In the original Hebrew version, Jonah volunteered because he felt that his shirking a prophetic mission had angered God. When Jonah told the crew to throw him overboard, they reluctantly did so, and the storm ceased.6 The medieval law codes specified that cargo be jettisoned first, and persons only thereafter. Olivia Remie Constable called attention to a mathematical puzzle included in the hodgepodge books of merchants.7 It involved a group of pilgrims traveling from Italy to the Holy Land who are caught in a storm that threatens the survival of the ship. The cargo was jettisoned first, but that did not suffice. 6 See, e.g., Lawrence. 7 Remie Constable, 208–11.

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A decision was made to throw overboard half the group, comprised of fifteen monks and fifteen friars. The leader of the friars proposed a way to choose the victims. The monks and friars would sit in a circle, they would count off by nines, and every ninth person would abandon ship until half were in the water. Only too late did the monks realize that one of them would always be the ninth counted off. The puzzle challenged the reader to arrange the thirty so that the friars survived. Neither Roman nor Byzantine sea law addressed the question of who should be jettisoned. Islamic law in general opposed jettisoning human beings, even slaves. A minority of the jurists would allow it but only to save the rest on board. In choosing whom to throw overboard, the jurists insisted on treating all those on board equally and selecting the unfortunates by lot. Considerations such as one’s ability to swim or the proximity to shore could factor into the choice. In the case of human jettison, maritime law stated that there was no risk of compensation. Two principles were involved. First, the law cannot set a value on human life. Slaves were an exception. Though the Digest excluded compensation for jettisoned slaves, later codes permitted a calculation of their value. Second, Roman, Byzantine, and Islamic jurisprudence agreed that every effort must be made to save as many lives as possible. Ships that encountered another vessel in distress must always assist the passengers if doing so did not put the rescuers or their vessel at risk. The Byzantine law specified compensation for rescue. Islamic law penalized those who had space to accommodate persons alive in the water but did not pull them safely on board.8 The Sea Law acknowledged free-diving in its dispositions on appropriate compensation to salvors of shipwrecked property. If a ship was destroyed on the high seas, then salvors were to receive 20% of the value of the items they recovered. Similarly, when a salvor recovered a sunken ship’s boat and its steering oars, he had to return the property to the owner and would receive 20% of its value as compensation.9 The basic principle was subject to variations based upon contingencies like the depth of the items and the value of the property. If the property consisted of gold, silver, or any other precious metal and was raised from 15 fathoms (27 m), the reward was 50% of its value. If the property consisted of valuables raised from 8 fathoms (14.4 m), the reward was 33%. If the items had washed up on shore and were recovered, the reward was 10%.10 From Rome to Byzantium, the law presumed continued ownership of property that was wrecked or jettisoned and prohibited third parties from acquiring 8 See, e.g., Khalilieh, 2005; and Khalilieh, 2006, 205–07, 222–23. 9 Nomos Rhodiōn Nautikos 3.45–46 (Ashburner, 1909, 37, 117–19). 10 Nomos Rhodiōn Nautikos 3.47 (Ashburner, 1909, 37–38, 119).

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title simply by taking possession of lost goods. Those third parties included salvage companies, landowners, or the state. Professional free-divers contributed to the success of a salvage business. The earliest codes discussed businesses engaged in salvage operations. The law recognized that salvors deserved fair compensation as a reward for recovering shipwrecked or jettisoned goods.11 Merchants hired salvors as wage laborers; they were paid for their work time whether they recovered cargo or did not. The Byzantine Sea Law gave some incentive to salvage work through floating compensation. Payment to salvage divers was based on the success achieved (what they recovered) and the risks involved (the depth from which the items were recovered). Entrepreneurs engaged in salvage would want quality divers on their staff. Decrees obliged salvors to inform public authorities of finds. The law envisioned salvage by casual finders and experienced professionals. Casual finds might occur when walking along the seashore but may offer a glimpse of recreational free-diving as well. Then as now, professionals diving for sponges might find items from a shipwreck. 1.2 Salvage Laws of the High Middle Ages and Free-Diving In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the commercial economies of Byzantium, the Islamic caliphates, and Christian Europe all showed signs of resurgence. Salvage cases involving free-divers are conserved in documents from the Jewish Geniza of Cairo, Islamic Egypt, and feudal England. A Geniza letter dated 27 May 1050 described the recovery of materials lost while unloading cargo from a ship. Divers managed to salvage nine bales of an unspecified commodity. Another letter, conserved in fragmentary condition without date, indicates the recovery of a single bale from a shipwreck. The recovery was sufficiently complicated to require two days of diving. A third letter from around 1139 involved a prominent Jewish merchant in India, Abraham ben Yijū, and one of his partners in Aden, Khalaf ben Isaac. Khalaf wrote to Abraham to give him the unwanted news that a ship carrying their goods had wrecked in the Strait of Bāb Al-Mandeb. He had contracted with divers from Aden to salvage the cargo. At one point the divers are labeled “mariners,” perhaps indicating that they were not professionals but free-lancers. All the pepper was lost, but the divers did recover approximately half the Indian iron on board. Khalaf planned to sell the salvaged iron, use the proceeds to cover all expenses including the divers, and then divide the remaining profits according to the stipulated percentages of the contract. 11

See, e.g., Lobingier, 22–25; Melikan, 163–66; and Robol.

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Merchants trading in the Indian Ocean had no insurance and incurred significant losses when a ship sank. Recovering the goods to which they still held title was imperative. Court depositions detail the men who perished in a shipwreck and the goods that were lost or retrieved by divers. The most dangerous moments of a voyage came when leaving or entering port. That was due to agitated conditions at the surf line and narrow harbor mouths. Some Muslim cargo ships sailing the Indian Ocean carried a diver on board. In one documented instance, an official called the nākhudā, probably the captain, sent a diver into the water to determine why the anchor was not arresting the ship’s progress.12 Around 1126, a renowned physician and mathematician from Muslim Spain, Abū al-Ṣalt Umayyah (c. 1068–1134), was recruited to assist in salvaging an entire ship that had wrecked near the port of Alexandria. Abū al-Ṣalt had impeccable academic credentials, having studied medicine, philosophy, history, literature, and astronomy. He would also need mechanical and engineering skills to raise the freighter and its cargo of pepper. Significant effort and expense went into the operation. Abū al-Ṣalt used a vessel with machines on board, likely hoists of some sort. Divers then took coiled silk ropes to the bottom and fastened them to the hull. The machines were put in motion, and the lift began. All went well until the hull began to emerge from the water. The added weight snapped the silk ropes, and the vessel fell back to the bottom. The disastrous failure may have led to Abū al-Ṣalt’s imprisonment.13 Using silk ropes for such an operation had to be a significant portion of the expense, and one wonders what led the great Muslim scientist to conclude that silk’s lifting capacity was commensurate to the need. The earliest parachute cords were made from silk rope because silk combined strength and elasticity.14 Legal records from England indicate that free-divers salvaged a cargo of wine from a vessel that wrecked off the coast of Sussex. The divers were able to locate the sunken ship because it was marked by a buoy. The court awarded them just compensation for their work. Much of what we know about shipwrecks from England in the High Middle Ages was due to unlawful seizure of their goods. A case from 1399 indicates that a William Stork, the agent overseeing the cargo of Gascon wine carried on a Breton ship, tried to keep eight casks from the wreck for himself and sell two other tuns. When others took casks 12 Khalilieh, 2006, 214–15; Gotein and Friedman, 12, 52–89, 122–23, 163–64; Chakravarti, 34–36; and Princeton Geniza Project website, Document T-S 10J18.8, https://geniza .princeton.edu/pgp/index.php?a=document&id=2927. 13 Nadvi, 1942, 411; and Khalilieh, 2006, 207–08. 14 See, e.g., Hearle, 347.

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from the wreck, Stork called for an inquest. As a result, he too was caught. The wine belonged to a Bordeaux merchant.15 As traffic increased on the seas and the ocean, states refined their principles for underwater salvage. The laws of various Mediterranean governments tilted to shippers and salvors and away from merchants owning cargo onboard. For free-diving, a key change involved fewer incentives to entrepreneurs to conduct salvage underwater. Some codes even offered disincentives. The code of the island of Curzola stipulated that one could only conduct salvage after entering an agreement with the owner of the lost goods, and it prohibited underwater salvage. Both the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem and the commune of Ancona compensated recovery of floating goods at a higher rate than recovery of sunken goods. At Jerusalem in the twelfth century, salvors received 50% of the value of goods recovered at the surface and 33% of the value of sunken goods. At Ancona they received three solidi per pound of commodities at the surface and two solidi for those underwater. Other governments compensated sunken goods at a higher rate than flotsam. The city of Zara (Zadar) awarded 50% of goods salvaged from the bottom to the finder and 33% to the finder of goods on the surface. Trani gave fully 67% of underwater finds to the salvor. The Republic of Pisa included value as a factor in compensation. Starting from a norm of 12.5% for salvage compensation from the bottom, the rate shifted for iron and lead to 25%, for tin and steel to 16.7%, for silver to 5%, and for gold to 3.3%. The Medieval Christian governments adopted laws which imply that a shipper should know the location of a sunken vessel and buoy the wreck so that he could then enter a contract with a salvage company. Free-lance salvage by third parties was actively discouraged. The laws also suggest that the rates of sinking and the pool of professional salvage divers were increasing. The law codes of Wisby on the island of Gotland in Sweden and the German Hanseatic centers of Hamburg and Lübeck gave 33% of the goods recovered underwater to the salvor. The general laws of salvage for England favored property owners and the king. If goods washed up on shore, they became royal property. At times, the king granted a charter that allowed vassals to seize shipwrecked goods which had finished on their property. Over time, those stipulations were modified. Later laws specified that shipwrecked goods had to be returned to the owner(s) if a claim was filed within the specified limits. In 1236, the limit was three months, but in 1275, it was extended to a full year. If the shipwrecked goods were not claimed within the specified period, their ownership passed to a person designated by the English king. A key issue in English 15

See, e.g., Friel, 56–59; and Melikan, 173–76.

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law was the place where the shipwrecked goods were found. If the goods were salvaged underwater, the legal tradition strongly favored compensation in the amount of 50% to the salvors. At times, the codes reserved the matter to the king’s officers, but the 50% figure remained rooted in practice. The salvage laws of England imply that the king’s right dominated legal thinking. Salvage was less a venture for entrepreneurs and more a duty of loyal servants of the crown. Either the king claimed immediate title, or he parceled title out by charter to vassals. The generous reward of 50% for goods salvaged underwater was adopted in part to assure that the king also got his share and did not forfeit all to the salvors. Such high compensation may also reckon the conditions for divers in and around England, where water temperatures remained frigid and marine environments energetic.16 Over the course of the High Middle Ages the Republic of Venice emerged as a leading maritime power engaged in long-distance trade. The laws of Venice imposed strong sanctions to prevent theft and retention of salvaged goods. The first criminal code adopted under Doge Orio Mastropiero in 1181 gave strict sentencing guidelines to judges. The initial paragraph of that code dealt with the crime of keeping for a period longer than three days goods that one obtained by giving assistance to a shipwrecked vessel (occasione auxilii) or by using violence (violenter). The guidelines for sentencing specified double restitution and a ban from the Commune (bannum). Those who did not meet the obligation for double restitution were threatened with demolition of their home and jailing. The code of Doge Jacopo Tiepolo in 1229 specified a period of 15 days in which to return the cargo and a rate of compensation of 3%. Venetian law placed the crew of a shipwrecked vessel under legal obligation to attempt to recover any cargo. The code of Doge Raniero Zeno in 1255 imposed a fine of a crew member’s entire salary if he did not aid the salvage effort.17 Venetian crews likely included capable free-divers because the Arsenal itself had a cadre of divers to keep shipping lanes open and salvage sunken cargoes and ordnance. That diving service typified the civic commitment of the laborers in that proto-industrial workplace. The dangerous work of free-diving at Venice was a job for professional employees of the government yard.18

16 17 18

Ashburner’s introduction to Rhodian Sea-Law, cclxxxviii–ccxciii; and Melikan, 166–76. Zordan, 637–38. See, e.g., Davis, 153–54.

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Free-Diving for Pearls in the Middle Ages

Medieval sources offer information on the employment of free-divers to gather luxury items like pearls and coral. They say less about harvesting the sponges that occupied ancient divers. Pearls were fished in the Islamic world around the Persian Gulf and its adjacent waters. There are bits and pieces about pearl diving in Arabic authors from the tenth to the fourteenth centuries; the detailed reports of colonial observers of the nineteenth century confirm that little had changed. The Arabic sources include the physician Yūhannā Ibn Māsawayh (d. 857), the historian and geographer Al-Mas’ūdī (c. 890–956), the scientist Abū Rayhān Bīrūnī (973–after 1050), who wrote a lapidary with extensive citations from poets, and the renowned geographer Al-Idrīsī (1099–c. 1162).19 The sources specified islands, coastal areas, and towns along the Persian Gulf involved in the business. Al-Idrīsī estimated the total number of fisheries at 300. He probably meant the organizational centers along the coast that housed divers and boats, not the actual pearl banks. The poets gave a terse sense of the working conditions on the waters: a diver who has brought his catch from tossing waves, a recommendation to dive when the sea was quiet and to take care when it was foaming. Abū Rayhān Bīrūnī claimed that the Omani pearl had advantages over others, thanks to feeding grounds that were sweet, air that was synergistic, and depth of water that was salutary. For the poets, nature herself added to the challenge, nurturing pearls in places that were hidden. One poet spoke of the earth shrouding the oyster-shell from human eyes and urged divers to seek their livelihood in concealed spots. Every diver rejoiced to find one that emerged resplendent from its hiding place. The season for fishing pearls ran from the beginning of April to the end of September and brought to operational centers an influx of merchants and divers. The poets commiserated with oysters who found that a difficult time of the year. An oyster was as frightened by the approach of a pearl diver as a mother was by a stranger accosting her child. The fishing was regulated to favor the interests of local princes and pearl merchants. The first 10% of the catch went to the local prince, and the rest went to the merchants. The free-divers and their tenders worked as wage laborers. The divers were hired at a fixed rate determined by the results of the work. Results were tabulated according to the number of oyster shells fished and the number that contained a pearl. The sources compared the wages a diver earned to those a landowner paid his farm 19

See, e.g., Wiener, 4:108–216; Krenkow, 1941, 410–12, 1942, 27–30; Donkin, 105–51; and Potts, http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/pearl-ii-islamic-period.

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workers. The relationship was exploitative. Merchants granted divers advances in wages and provisions, those were then deducted before payment of final wages, and earnings were slight. Debts among the divers were common and passed from generation to generation. Merchants recruited their divers from Arabia, especially the eastern and southern parts of the peninsula. The divers moved from rural hinterlands to the pearling centers for the season and lived in reed huts. The skill of free-diving was learned in a master-apprentice relationship. For a fee, a father could apprentice his son as a boy. The pearl banks were reached by ship, and the pearls could only be harvested by diving. The various centers sent out several hundred boats in flotillas of 30–40 craft. An experienced pilot guided them to the banks, and, based on inspection, the pilot determined the precise location for diving. The boats stayed on the water for as long as possible. Merchants traveled on the boats. They would watch a diver’s tender open each shell and record every pearl found inside. Abū Rayhān Bīrūnī quibbled with verses in which the poet Abū Duwād al-Iyādi claimed that a merchant showed to the ‘Aziz ruler a pearl for which he himself had dived. Class difference had to be respected: merchants never dived but hired servants to do the diving for them. The pearls of the Gulf could be found as deep as 36 m (20 fathoms), but divers considered 7.2–12.6 m (4–7 fathoms) the safe operating depth. They had a saying that 27 m (15 fathoms) reduced the odds of a long life. That was the maximum depth listed for compensation in the Byzantine Sea Law. The preparations for diving began by stripping naked. Centuries earlier, Ephrem of Syria (c. 306–73) used the pearl diver as a type for the Christian apostle. Naked and poor, the diver came up from the sea and put on clothing. In the gospels, stripped and poor Galileans like Peter came up from the lake and covered themselves.20 Pearl divers attempted to eliminate the pain in their ears and block their nostrils. They ruptured their own ear drum and knew they had succeeded when blood flowed out. They soaked cotton in oil and inserted it into their ears. The technique had an added benefit on the bottom. As the oil leaked out and floated up, it clarified the water column by allowing greater light to penetrate. For the nostrils, pearl divers had various options. They could plug the openings with small balls carved from a tortoise shell and use a cloth soaked in oil like the one used in the ears. Alternatively, they could wear a clip over the outside of the nostrils, carved from ivory or horn or tortoise shell. The stated purpose of blocking the nostrils was to keep water out, but it may also have 20

Ephrem of Syria Hymn to the Pearl 5.3–4, cited in Wiener, 4:149–50. For pearl divers, see also The Pearl 1.3, 2.1, 4.1, 5.1, The Saint Pachomius Orthodox Library website, http://www .voskrese.info/spl/pearl.html.

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aided in equalizing pressure in the sinuses and ears. Professional free-divers still use a nose clip. The diver slung a bag around his neck for the shells. At the waist, he attached a safety line that his tender watched. At a prearranged signal, the tender used the line to haul the diver back to the surface. Pearl divers blackened their feet and legs on the assumption that, so darkened, they would frighten off predatory animals. As backup, they carried a jar of grease or vinegar. Once released into the water, either one produced a bright sheen by reflecting light and scared off any creature preparing to attack. The provisions seem at odds. The ultimate protection for a diver was divine, both as an aid to his search and a defense against attack. That is confirmed by a popular story about a merchant at Oman named Mouslim Ben Bişr (Bichr) preserved in the Book of the Marvels of India collected by Buzurg ibn Shahriyār around 953. Merchant Mouslim had lost all his property by hiring divers who failed to find pearls in satisfactory quantity. In desperation, he sold the last valuable item he could, his wife’s silver bracelet. The proceeds financed one more pearling venture. For fifty-nine days of a two-month expedition, the divers that Mouslim hired collected shells and oysters but no pearls. On day sixty, with supplies running out, the divers prayed to the archdevil Iblis and then fished a pearl of truly great price. They were stunned when Mouslim ground up the valuable pearl and scattered the dust on the sea. He did so because the pearl was cursed. If he had not disposed of the magnificent pearl, the divers would continue to invoke the devil’s name. Mouslim then sent them down for the final time but in the name of the one great God. This time they found two pearl oysters, one containing a famous pearl known as the orphan (yétima) and the other a pearl of less value. Mouslim sold the pearls together to the local caliph for a substantial profit and used the proceeds to move to a comfortable residence in Oman.21 An old Latin translation of the Greek work entitled Physiologus (before 500 CE) offered a trick to make the task of a pearl diver easier. The boat crew tied agate to a strong line and sent it down on the banks. When agate came near a pearl oyster, it immobilized the bivalve. The diver zipped down his line to collect the stationary oyster.22 Once oysters have settled on a bank, however, they do not move and simply open and close their shell to filter-feed. To speed his descent, an Islamic diver used a second line with a ballast stone attached. The stone too was blackened to frighten off predators.23 On the bottom, the 21 Buzurg ibn Shahriyār Book of the Marvels of India 80 (Book of the Marvels, 1928, 113–15), cited by Wiener, 4:138–39. 22 Physiologus Latinus 22 (Physiologus Latinus versio Y, 1944, 120). 23 Abul Huda, 176.

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diver abandoned the stone, and his tender retrieved it using the line. Divers were said to have attached the stone to their foot, but that would only work if the diver had a quick and reliable way to release it. When working on the bottom, the diver used a knife to free the oyster shells and then placed them in a leather bag. The sources claim that, with practice, a diver had multiple ways to breathe on the bottom. He could breathe through a rupture in his ears, through slits in the neck below the ears, and through a reed pipe that reached the surface. The physician Yūhannā Ibn Māsawayh insisted that breathing through an opening in the ears allowed a bottom time of up to a half hour.24 The first and second methods are preposterous. The third allows one to breathe underwater, but only at a depth of less than 0.5 m, where few if any pearl oysters are found. More credibly, the sources indicated that a diver underwater could make a sound like a barking dog that was audible at the surface. He used the barking sound to drive off hungry predators.25 The work period lasted continuously for two hours, which for the physician Māsawayh was the equivalent of three dives. Divers then rested and ate a snack of fish and dates.26 The sources emphasized the importance of not eating other foods. The pearling industry in the Persian Gulf employed merchants and divers to fill hundreds of boats because there was steady demand. Pearls were used for a variety of purposes. Most were marketed as jewels. Arab manufacturers pierced the pearls to string them as a necklace, sewed them as ornament into clothing or tents, inlaid them in daggers, and used them as decoration in art objects. A pearl wrapped in leather was at times worn as an amulet. Because pearls had a universally recognized value, they became liquid capital accepted for purchase in markets around the world. Pearls also had medicinal uses. If they had not been pierced, pearls were ground into a fine powder and mixed as a drink to aid digestion, as salves, and as an ointment for the eyes. If pierced, folk wisdom urged one to guard against the poison lurking in and around the hole. Whether ingested or simply smelled, a small amount of that poison could prove fatal. As in ancient times, the other major medieval site for pearling was the Gulf of Mannar in the strait between India and Sri Lanka. Muslims knew the competition afforded by Sri Lankan pearls. They boasted that the pearls of the Gulf 24 Ibid. 25 Al-Mas’ūdī, 1841, 1:345–46. Ascending divers (urinatores) in Christian literature of the time became a simile for a chorus of saints ascending to heaven. Physiologus Latinus 23 (Physiologus Latinus versio Y, 1944, 120–21), cited by Wiener, 4:172. 26 Abul Huda, 176.

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were equal to or even more precious than those of India. Still, Muslims also served as middlemen in the trade of Mannar pearls from East to West. Interest in the pearls of Sri Lanka revived in the Christian West, as travelers and missionaries made their way east and reported on their experiences. The Venetian Marco Polo (1254–1324) recounted his visit to the area around 1294. Pearling took place in the Gulf of Mannar from April until mid-May. According to Polo there was a second set of pearl banks approximately 300 miles away that were worked from September until mid-October. For the Gulf of Mannar there was a fleet of large boats that dragged smaller boats behind. The pearl fishermen used the large boats for the sixty-mile trip into the Gulf. On site, the divers worked from the small boats. The benefits went to the merchants, divided into firms, and to the king, who received a tithe from a firm’s overall profits. Animal charmers also benefitted, earning 5% of the profits in order to keep the divers safe. They assured a need for their services by using charms that only lasted during the daytime. The predatory fish became unruly again overnight, and the charmer had to charm the fish the next morning. The divers took their customary place at the bottom of the labor market. They were hired for wages. Polo said that the actual diving took place at a depth that ranged from 4 to 12 fathoms (7.2–21.6 m). Polo believed that a diver on the bottom could distinguish shells with pearls, but the divers themselves may have sold him a fish story. Until the shell was pried open, there was no way to know if it contained a pearl. The divers of merchant Mouslim spent fifty-nine days collecting only shells. That explains why pearl merchants in the Persian Gulf accompanied the divers on boats and watched every oyster as it was opened on deck. Sri Lankan divers put the shells in a mesh bag tied around their waist. That seems safer than the Persian Gulf method of slinging the bag around the diver’s neck. Polo saw shells that yielded great and small pearls and evidence that the king and the firms made a killing. They wore robes garnished with gems and pearls.27 A Dominican missionary named Jordan Catala de Sévérac (Friar Jordanus) confirmed the remunerative character of pearl fishing in the Gulf of Mannar. Friar Jordan left his convent in Tabriz (Persia) in December 1320 and set out with four Franciscans on a journey to India. Ultimately, their goal was to take ship from India and sail to mythical Cathay. When describing the wonders he had observed, Jordan claimed that pearling went on continuously for three months in the seas between the island of Sri Lanka and mainland India. The work paid dividends. The Dominican estimated that 8,000 boats were engaged 27

Marco Polo Il Milione 3.16 (Book of Ser Marco Polo, 1875, 2:313–15, 321–22). The comments of Polo and Friar Jordan were cited by Kunz and Stevenson, 100–01.

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in the fishing operation. They functioned under the jurisdiction of the king, and Jordan did not seem as interested as Polo was in the merchants. Friar Jordan may have pursued a top-down strategy of evangelization: convert the king and his kingdom would follow. For the friar, the numbers of pearls fished would seem incredible if he had not witnessed it with his own eyes. In a later section on twelve idolatrous kings in Greater India, Friar Jordan identified a King of Molephatam whose dominion was also called Molepor (Mylapore). Pearls were fished there in remarkable quantities.28 3

Free-Diving for Coral in the Middle Ages

Islamic sources gave brief mention to the harvesting of red coral in the Middle Ages. Coral was itemized in the lapidary of Abū Rayhān Bīrūnī. Because coral petrified out of water, Islamic poets described it as “pebbles.” The pieces of coral were bored lengthwise to manufacture necklaces. A Persian physician, astronomer, and geographer of Arab descent, Abu Yahya Zakariya ibn Muhammad al-Qazwīnī (1203–83), included a section on the wonders of the seven seas in his treatment of marvelous creatures and bizarre occurrences. He noted that coral received mention in the holy Qur’an as one of the precious curiosities found in nature. Al-Qazwīnī was aware of the use of a cross-shaped device ballasted with stone that Mediterranean fishermen employed to collect red coral.29 The dredging device came to be known as the Saint Andrew’s Cross, and it was in the Christian West that coral was exploited on a large scale.30 Carlo Cipolla has argued that Western Europeans of the Middle Ages were fascinated by the mechanical aspects of technology. Medieval Europeans proved receptive to innovative technologies and found ways to assimilate them as laborsaving devices.31 That fascination probably played a role in perfecting the Saint Andrew’s Cross, utilized to replace most human labor when fishing coral.32 The fact that coral normally grew at depths beyond the range of divers catalyzed the turn to a dredging device. Fishermen could find coral as shallow as 20 m and as deep as 50–100 m. The medieval Saint Andrew’s Cross operated 28 29 30 31 32

Jordan Catala de Sévérac Mirabilia descripta 5.6, 41 (Wonders of the East, 1863, 28, 39–41); and Gadrat, 1–2, 64, 146, 224, 254, 258. Krenkow, 1942, 32–33; and Wiener, 4:183 (al-Qazwīnī). See, e.g., Tsounis et al., 174–77. Cipolla, 167–84. See, e.g., Galasso, 2:1170–86.

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on cables to a depth of around 50 m. It received its name because it consisted of two pieces of wood fastened together to form an X-shaped cross. That was the style of cross on which Christian tradition claimed that the apostle Andrew died. Nets were attached at the end of the four arms. They were fashioned from a material that remained flexible in the water. Approximately 18 kg of lead weights were fixed at the center of the device to assure negative buoyancy. Once deployed, a sailboat would drag the device behind until the nets were filled, collecting everything in its path. Fishermen focused on rocky places where coral was likely to grow. They used a capstan or windlass to haul the device back on board. Divers contributed by exploring places where the device could not trawl. Dredging with the Saint Andrew’s Cross helped to increase the harvest and meet market demand for coral. The fishing fed workshops for the manufacture of coral objects and trade with the Levant. Craftsmen in cities like Torre del Greco, Genoa, and Barcelona specialized in working coral. They produced bean necklaces, chains, and decorative beads for textiles. Because coral was believed to detect poison, it was used for cutlery handles. From antiquity, coral was deemed to have apotropaic powers and was molded into amulets. For non-Christians, a coral amulet protected one against the evil eye and other mishaps. In Persia, the amulet worked against lightning and thunderstorms. For Christians, a coral amulet protected the believer against the shadow of Satan. Italian Renaissance artists like Piero della Francesca in the Madonna di Senigallia (1470) and Andrea Mantegna in the Madonna della Vittoria (1496) depict hanging branches of coral and necklaces manufactured from the skeleton. Piero showed the Infant Jesus wearing a coral amulet. There was a niche market for coral beads used in manufacturing religious objects. The earliest carved geometric forms are medieval paternosters, a set of beads in a symbolic number like ten threaded on a cord and, if helpful, subdivided into small groups by large marker beads. The user counted on his coral beads the repetition of the Lord’s Prayer alone or a combination of prayers. Manufacturers of paternosters set up shop in Aragon (Barcelona), France (Paris and Lyon), and Italy (Genoa and Trapani). The Islamic tradition had its own prayer beads, and coral was one material used to make them. Red coral also had value as an export commodity. Christian merchants traded red coral in the Muslim Levant, particularly the coral fished in North Africa. Muslim merchants sold the coral to locals or re-exported it to Yemen, India, and China. The Jews living in the Maghreb acted as middlemen in the export of coral. A Geniza letter indicated that the cargo of coral a merchant brought to Aden was selling for such low prices that he intended to re-export

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figure 10 Piero della Francesca, Madonna di Senigallia

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the coral to India.33 India remained a thirsty market for coral. The maritime centers of Venice and Genoa prospered in part because they had red coral to trade in the Levant. Genoa especially benefitted by acquiring fishing rights at Tabarka and Marsacares (Marsa al-Kharaz / La Calle), whose fruitful grounds lay approximately 30 kilometers apart along the North African coast.34 Until the nineteenth century, red coral remained a specialty of the Mediterranean. Fishermen could harvest it to a far lesser extent in the Red Sea and Persian Gulf. Red coral was fished at various locations in the Mediterranean, particularly its western basin. Fishermen worked banks off the North African coast, the major islands (Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica), in the Gulf of Naples, along the French and Ligurian Riviera, and in the Adriatic off Puglia. A shipwreck found at Capo Galera (Sardinia) and dated to the twelfth or thirteenth century had about 10 kg of rough red coral on board that was stored in an organic container, perhaps a burlap sack. Given that the shipwreck produced no evidence of fishing implements, it may have carried a commercial cargo, or the crew may have been pirates.35 The coral season on the Mediterranean lasted from May to September. Fishermen had to voyage to access better resources in places far from home. The fishermen supplying the admired coral artisans of Torre del Greco south of Naples traveled to Sicily, the Aegean, and North Africa. Coral fishermen from Pisa and Catalonia worked the banks off the coastal town of Tabarka in modern Tunisia. Various sea-powers vied to control specific areas. Provençal merchants and Neapolitans ruled by an Angevin king harvested the coral growing off Sorrento and Capri. The Crown licensed those areas to the merchants of Marseilles in 1276 and granted further privileges in the following century. The Catalans concentrated their efforts on the banks off Sicily and Sardinia. They had ready access to those waters after the Sicilians rebelled against Angevin control in 1282 and invited King Peter III of Aragon to invade. The Venetians accessed coral from the banks of Puglia, and, by the late fifteenth century, they acquired rights in North Africa. Coral, however, ranked lower for the Venetians than for the Genoese in their trade with the Levant. Residents of Dubrovnik (Ragusa) in the Adriatic could find coral just off the town itself. The Genoese early on collected coral off Ceuta (Morocco), Sardinia, and Corsica. In fact, the

33 34 35

Purpura, 98. Giustiniani, 1981, fol. CCXLv (Genoese master who worked corals executed). Galasso, 2:1163–64.

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expanding coral fisheries of Genoa illustrate the growth of the industry from the Middle Ages into the Renaissance.36 Already in the twelfth century, the Genoese were harvesting coral off Sardinia and Corsica. Corsican fishing was spottier but flourished in the second half of the fifteenth century. There is documentation for the Genoese presence in Sardinia into the fourteenth century. Even when most of the island fell to the Catalans, the Genoese maintained possession of Castelgenovese until 1448 as a center for coral collection. In the early fifteenth century, Genoese coral fishermen are found off the Ligurian and Tuscan coasts. The Ligurian towns of Rapallo and Cervo furnished many fishermen for coral. And in 1451, the Genoese displaced the privileged position of the Catalans in North Africa. As early as 1153–54, before obtaining fishing rights, the Genoese entered trade pacts with the King of Morocco, but they pulled off a coup by gaining control of the banks off Marsacares. For forty years beginning in 1451, Genoese fishing for coral in North Africa prospered. Even the Venetians visited Marsacares where they would purchase red coral and then exchange it in Alexandria for pepper. After 1494, the Genoese had increasing difficulty in maintaining their North African monopoly.37 In the second half of the fifteenth century, Genoa dominated coral fishing and manufacture. Among the crafts practiced in Genoa, there were guilds of coral workers and sellers (coralerii, laboratores coraliorum, magistri artis corrallorum, magistri corallorum). The variety of Genoese names for coral fishers and laborers and marketers reflects the fact that the industry thrived. For centuries, Genoa remained an important center for the manufacture of coral jewelry. Demand among the aristocracy for coral as a status symbol helped drive the market. The Genoese also valued coral and other jewelry as a safe investment and a substitute currency. 4

Dante’s Free-Diver Simile

In the Inferno, Dante Alighieri described the fraudulent beast Geryon swimming up through the turgid air of lower Hell to give Virgil and himself a ride. He compared Geryon to a diver ascending from the bottom where he had been sent to free a fouled anchor. The Florentine poet even depicted the stroke used 36 See, e.g., Ashtor, 50–52, 146, 164, 230–36, 242–45, 349–52, 466–69, 481–83; Grove Encyclopedia, “Coral,” 145–47; and Tsounis et al., 161–71. 37 See, e.g., Podestà, 1897; Podestà, 1900; Pastine, 169–83; Gourdin, 1986, 543–47, 570–90; Gourdin, 1990, 137–42; and Petti Balbi, 204–09.

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by a diver to quicken the ascent. He stretched his arms over his head and drew in his feet. What preceded and followed the arrival of Geryon has generated much commentary. First, Virgil and Dante were able to lure Geryon from the hidden depths by dropping a knotted cord into the dark ambience of that circle of Hell. An odd creature bearing no resemblance to the Geryon of ancient literature emerged with a long snaking body, a pointed tail, and a human head. He arrived by means of swimming upwards. And it is precisely that emergence, or re-emergence, that suggested for Dante the cycle traced by a free-diver, who returns after going down, oftentimes after disentangling an anchor. In the next canto, Dante and Virgil climb on the back of Geryon who ferries them lower into the Inferno. Because Geryon had to move through a dense medium and had no wings, Dante described his descent in three steps. Geryon backed away from the bank and turned around as a small ship does when it leaves its mooring and turns to head out to sea. Until then Geryon had kept his tail turned up but now he stretched it out. He wriggled ahead as an eel does. And Geryon drew the dense air into his body with his paws as a swimmer pulled the water into his chest with his arms. All of that led to a slow, circling descent like a maple seed. Encased in its pod, the seed twirls to the ground. To summarize Geryon’s movement, from among his various images, Dante preferred leisurely swimming (notando lenta lenta).38 The texts on Geryon indicate that Dante knew something about the habits of swimmers and free-divers and felt that his audience would as well. Dante’s description of free-diving is generic and may be a veiled reference to the spiritual topography of the poem, a penitential descent in order to ascend to the fullness of life. In his commentary on the Inferno (c. 1375), Giovanni Boccaccio explained the manner in which ships were anchored and the reason that might call for a diver’s intervention. To prevent the wind from driving a ship into land, multiple anchors were cast off the side of the hull opposite the shore. Occasionally, an anchor will not find bottom terrain which it can grab. When the wind pushes the ship, the anchor furrows the bottom. If it ends up catching on a rock, it holds tightly. When the ship goes to depart, an anchor caught on a rock is more difficult to recover than if lying on sand or in thick growth. A free-diver would submerge to address the problem.39 Over the centuries, commentators have debated the person doing Dante’s diving and the way that he accomplished his duties. They divide into two camps. The first felt that the free-diver on board was a generic sailor. Representative commentators who identify a sailor (nauta / marinaro) include Guido da Pisa 38 Dante Inferno 17.100–05, 115 (Divine Comedy, 1970, 1:178–81, 2:306). 39 Dante Inferno 16.130–36 (Divine Comedy, 1970, 1:170–71, 2:293).

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and Boccaccio in the fourteenth century, Guiniforte Barzizza in the fifteenth, and Gabriele Rosetti in the nineteenth. The so-called Ottimo Commento from 1333 used the plural “sailors” and intimated that more than one person on board could dive to free an anchor. Rosetti spoke of the diver propelling himself upward just as a swimmer does. He extended his arms and contracted his lower body. So normal swimming for Rosetti in the 1820s was a breaststroke. By explaining the actions that Dante described, Boccaccio confirmed the image of one moving upward by using breaststroke in a vertical position. Boccaccio said the diver used his arms, aided by the water’s density, to pull himself upward. He also gathered to himself his lower limbs and then violently struck ( fierono) the dense water as a further aid to momentum upward. Guido da Pisa and Barzizza shared Boccaccio’s sense of attacking the water and needing to operate with dispatch. The individual working underwater was therefore not a specialist. The reference to sailors in the Ottimo Commento and the forceful swimming of the diver suggest he was following orders in going overboard to release the fouled anchor. A smaller group of commentators identified the diver as a specialist, using the Latin term palombarius or the Italian palombaro. As early as 1291, before Dante published his Comedy, a Bacedus de Padua was described in a Venetian notarial document as a professional free-diver (palombarus). When Francesco da Barberino used the term palombaro in 1314, it was glossed as one who went underwater when necessary.40 The Latin term, and its Italian transliteration, do not have a clear etymology. It may derive from the late antique term palumbarius, which literally designated a bird that hunts pigeons but would have to be a sea hierax in a marine context. Both are birds that dive for their prey.41 It may also derive from the Tuscan word palomba, meaning an anchor or mooring cable. It may even derive from the Greek kolymbētēs, the swimmer-diver who behaves like a diving bird. Writing sometime between 1324 and 1328, Jacopo della Lana identified Dante’s diver as a palombaro. In a commentary redacted into final form around 1383, Benvenuto da Imola used the Latin term palumbarius and glossed it as one returning to the surface with the aid of a cord. In the mid-sixteenth century, Giovan Battista Gelli had the diver clutching the anchor cable, as though he were shinnying up a tree. By the late nineteenth century, Giuseppe Campi posited that the diver followed the rope down and up. Using the anchor cable as a guide simplified his task of disentangling the anchor. The tradition led Ignazio Baldelli to infer toward the end of the 40 41

Cortelazzo and Zolli, 4:867. Palombaro in modern Italian refers to a helmet diver receiving surface-supplied air. See also Tomasin, 144–45 (Baceda de Padua). Arnott, 66–68 (Hierax), 181–82 (Phaboktonos).

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twentieth century that, in Dante’s imagination, Geryon used the knotted cord as a palombarius would use the anchor cable to guide his ascent. That school of interpretation derived the term for a specialist diver, palombaro, from the Tuscan term for the anchor cable, palomba. In the history of Dante commentary, there is at least one scholar who straddled the fence. In 1894 Giacomo Poletto said that Dante’s diver was either a trained professional (palombaro) or a generic sailor (marinaio). But Poletto rejected the theory that Geryon used the cord that Virgil had thrown down. He felt that the description of the monster using its paws to draw the air to itself (17.105) completed the simile that began with him extending his arms and contracting his legs (16.136). When put together, the two described a breaststroke. Dante said that Geryon came swimming upward. And most Franciscan habits do not have a cord the length of an anchor cable. Throughout the Geryon episode, as Umberto Bosco and Giovanni Reggio observed, Dante employed aquatic images to describe the wingless creature’s movement through the thick air of the Inferno. That imagery included departing small ships, swimming eels, and a swimmer-diver descending underwater and ascending to the surface.42 Minimally, it seems reasonable to conclude that Dante knew how to swim, he practiced a modified breaststroke when swimming, and, during his own life’s pilgrimage, he had seen divers free anchors either along the Tyrrhenian or Adriatic coast of Italy. 42 For the commentaries, see the Dartmouth Dante Project website, https://dante.dart mouth.edu. Baldelli, cited by commentators like Hollander in Dante, The Inferno, 308; and Fleming, 77–78. In general, see Cambon, 80–105.

part 3 The Renaissance Conceptualization of Swimming and Free-Diving

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Erasmus, Nicolas Wynman, and the First Art of Swimming … since were directly observing no motion from which they could make a case for the life of a survivor, finally moved to pity, they cried out in a loud voice, “a drowned corpse is being borne high on the waves.” Nicolaus Wynman Colymbetes1

∵ In a dialogue from 1538, the character Pampirus, a jack of all trades, explained to his young student Erotes the proper method for floating on the back. Because Pampirus insisted that one scull with the hands to assist the float, he labeled it a form of swimming. Pampirus disparaged such swimming as of no practical value, though it did create a spectacle. He offered an example from personal experience. At the time, Pampirus lived in Vienna, where the Danube and its smaller tributary, the Wienfluss, lap against the city walls. He liked to go a bit upstream and jump into the river at the point at which silting had formed an island. Pampirus would then relax by “swimming” on his back. Along that stretch of river, laundresses gathered to do their work. As Pampirus floated by in mid-stream, only his face was visible. The women stared for a time and determined from lack of all movement that he was dead. They screamed for help in retrieving the corpse while it was still afloat. When Pampirus heard their shouting, he could not contain his laughter. He did compose himself well enough to maintain the illusion, a celebrity mime in the ancient mold of Sorix.2 Fishermen heard the woman wailing and guided their 1 Wynman, 1889, 48: “Ex insula, quam circumfluus parit Danubius supra ciuitatem, in fluuium toties me misi. Illinc sic resupinus, quo modo iam nataui, cum medio delaberer alueo, facie tantum superante, foeminae conspicatae sunt, diuque dubiae haerentes, cum nullum prorsus animaduerterent motum, ex quo uitae superstitis sumerent argumentum, commiseratae tandem, alta exclamare uoce, ‘suffocatum undis cadauer sublime ferri.’” (my translation). 2 Wynman, 1889, 48–49, referencing Plut. Vit. Sull. 36.2. See, e.g., Blume, “Archimimus,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/.

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boats to the corpse. When they got close enough to realize that Pampirus was alive, they too were amused, though also annoyed for having wasted their time. Erotes urged his master to be grateful that he was approached by offended Viennese fishermen and not by enraged Scythian rowers ready to club him with their oars. Nicolaus Wynman (Winmann / Weinmann) wrote the dialogue, and, for the first time, he used it to teach the art of swimming and free-diving. Wynman lectured on the Hebrew language and Greek literature at the University of Ingolstadt. He published his dialogue at Augsburg in 1538, the year that he left his university post and was replaced by a member of the Premonstratensian order named Wilhelm Ulin (Velin).3 The dialogue on swimming was one of a trio of works that Wynman wrote in a brief span. He also published an oration in praise of the sacred Hebrew language, perhaps a praelectio for his 1537–38 course, and an allegorical treatment of the fight between Heracles and Antaeus, in which Heracles was a figure for the Christian soldier and life’s key battle was that against the sinfulness promoted by the satanic Antaeus. Wynman dedicated his work on swimming to Johann Georg Paumgartner, the son of Johann Paumgartner of Augsburg (1488–1549). The elder Paumgartner was a Maecenas to northern humanists, Erasmus most prominently. Wynman admitted that he chose the younger Paumgartner to broaden his generational audience. He also sought the father’s patronage.4 1

The Intuition: Italian Treatises on Education in the Humanities

By the time Wynman wrote his dialogue on swimming, other humanists had promoted the rebirth of an art esteemed by the ancient world but neglected in the Middle Ages. Around 1403–04, Pierpaolo Vergerio the Elder (c. 1369– 1444) composed the earliest treatise on a humanist education. Addressed to the son of the despot of Padua, Vergerio’s curriculum included physical as well as intellectual and moral education. Willingness to bear arms and dedication to exercise were crucial to the survival of the despotism. Among the appropriate forms of exercise Vergerio explicitly recommended swimming. He felt that swimming freed practitioners from life-threatening danger and enhanced their boldness when fighting at sea or crossing rivers. Vergerio cited the biography of Augustus in which Suetonius said that Augustus taught his grandsons to swim. Vergerio subtly endorsed teaching women the skill so that they survive 3 Prantl, 1:213–14. See also Wassmannsdorff’s introduction to Wynman, 1889, xiv–xxx. 4 Wynman, 1889, 3–6.

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in a perilous situation when he contended that swimming frees human beings (homines) from such danger.5 In his Della famiglia from 1443, Leon Battista Alberti (1404–72) included swimming among forms of physical exercise beneficial for children. We should not imprison young people among books. They also need time for recreation. Among physical exercises, Alberti stated a clear preference for the virile and ethical. He was not a fan of sedentary games like chess. They were more appropriate for one’s golden years. Alberti preferred athletic activities that left one with a healthy feeling of fatigue. His paradigms were classical. Caesar excelled at ball games, Domitian shot arrows between the fingers of a boy’s hand, and Trojan boys displayed their equestrian skills at the end of the funeral games for Anchises. Alberti expressed admiration for the Spartan practice of toughening children by having them sleep on tombs. For the fifteenth century, he sanctioned horseback riding, even in full armor, archery, ball games, fencing, and swimming. If the skills were not mastered during childhood, ignorance could prove harmful as one aged. Alberti believed that swimming had lifelong value. Cato the Elder taught his son letters and swimming. By adducing Cato’s example, Alberti endorsed the relevance of the ancient proverb for his own times. Alberti also employed swimming in an argument for integrity. He paraphrased the Platonic aphorism that it is better to be than to seem.6 Alberti was bemused that one who did not how to swim would lie down on his bed and mimic the actions of a swimmer. He stretched out his palms, extended his arms, and breathed in and out, but he did it all on dry land. As laughable as that was, it would be worse if he wanted to seem to swim and threw himself into a river’s current. That would be insane. And it would require a true swimmer, who never made a spectacle of his skill, to strip off his clothes and rescue him. Alberti was familiar with contemporaries swimming naked in rivers. He explicitly endorsed floating on the back as a useful skill.7 In 1450 Enea Silvio Piccolomini (Pius II, 1405–64) composed his own treatise on a humanist education. He wanted all students to learn to swim as part of a broader preparation for military service. Piccolomini drew from Diogenes Laertius the bulk of necessary martial skills – riding a horse, shooting a bow, slinging a stone, hurling a javelin, hunting wild prey. He personally added swimming to the list. Swimming was important for all young people, but it had 5 Vergerio, 2002, 82–83, citing Suet. Aug. 64.3. 6 Cf. Pl. Resp. 362a, 367c–e. 7 Alberti, 1908, 44, 50–51, 66–67, 130–31. The citations are Cic. Amic. 1.1; Plut. Vit. Cat. Mai. 20.4; Macr. Sat. 2.6.5; Suet. Dom. 19; and Verg. Aen. 5.545–603.

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a special relevance for the kingdom of Hungary as King Ladislas fought to keep the Turks from advancing farther into Europe. Piccolomini endorsed swimming as an ethical pursuit, critical to the defense of the Christian commonwealth. To support his contention, he adduced the treatise of Vegetius on the Roman military. He also cited the epic showcasing the first pius Aeneas, where Virgil described the archaic Latin custom of dipping infants into icy water to steel them for future hardship.8 In 1528, Baldassare Castiglione (1478–1529) published an influential dialogue on the courtier. A protagonist named Count Lodovico Canossa argued that a courtier had to be physically agile. Developed muscles and honed skills made for reliable warriors. In all exercising, courtiers must maintain good judgment and studied nonchalance. They had to master the art of hiding one’s art. In addition to fighting with weapons, Count Lodovico recommended other forms of physical exercise requiring courage. Principal among those was hunting, the sport of great lords that was much practiced in antiquity. He also included swimming, leaping, running, throwing stones, playing tennis, and vaulting onto a horse. He advocated cross-training and varying the intensity of individual exercises so that boredom did not undercut a courtier’s commitment. The count was less enamored of somersaults and rope-walking, the street entertainer’s stock in trade. They did not befit a gentleman. The pursuit of physical conditioning at court reflected the elitism of the setting. Swimming courtiers by their proficiency should dazzle the general public.9 2

The Imprimatur: The Adages of Erasmus

No close reader or casual examiner would quibble with William Barker when he characterized the Adages of Erasmus as “an extraordinary work of Renaissance erudition.”10 First published in 1500 as a modest compendium of some 800 Greek and Latin proverbs, the work grew to over 3,200 proverbs in the Aldine edition of 1508. In the long essays that Erasmus added to the 1515 edition, he demonstrated the relevance of that storehouse of ancient wisdom for promoting political reform and putting an end to war. The proverbial wisdom of the ancients, grounded in common sense, convinced audiences from 8 Diog. Laert. 6.2.30, the life of the Cynic philosopher Diogenes, purportedly purchased as a slave by Xeniades of Corinth and made tutor to Xeniades’s two sons. Diogenes Laertius, in turn, cited a work by Eubulus entitled The Sale of Diogenes. See, e.g., Desmond, 19–22. 9 Castiglione Il Cortegiano 1.20–22 (Il libro del cortegiano, 1972, 56–58; Book of the Courtier, 1959, 36–39). 10 Barker, introduction to Erasmus, Adages, ix. See, e.g., Mann Phillips, 3–121; and Eden.

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classical times to his own. It also had a metaphorical flexibility that invited new interpretation and creative application. Hidden meaning, ethical complexity, cultural harmony, and contemporary relevance engaged his fertile mind. The Adages supplied a sweeping introduction to the cultural mores of ancient Greece and Rome. Humanists sought to make ancient norms the standard once again for liberal education, persuasive expression, and ethical guidance. Erasmus opened the treasures of the classical world to scholar and student alike. The vast scope of the work meant that it contained among its thousands of entries proverbs on swimming and free-diving. Those arts could receive no more potent humanist endorsement. Through his study of classical sources, Erasmus communicated the importance of swimming and free-diving in ancient society. Several proverbs indicated that the ancients considered swimming an art. To master the art, one first needed the requisite ability. Trying to teach iron to swim will not work. Where the Greek version of the proverb that Erasmus cited had “to sail” (plein), the Latin version had “to swim” (natare). One cannot teach a bar of iron to do either.11 The need for instruction in swimming is antithetically suggested by the Greek proverb, “you are teaching a dolphin to swim (nēchesthai).” Erasmus noted that dolphins swim more swiftly than any other creature. They are expert swimmers who by nature have no need of a teacher. But human beings do not swim naturally and are far from expert in the water. They need a teacher who has mastered the art.12 Erasmus cited another adage that drove home a similar message: “I am going on foot because I did not learn how to swim.”13 Erasmus ascertained from various proverbs that ancient learners began to master swimming by using a float but were weaned to swim without one. The floats were cork or reed mats or leather bags filled with air. Those from cork had the widest application in ancient society, serving the needs of novice swimmers, sailors marking a deployed anchor, and fishermen setting their nets. The adage that a person will one day swim without cork indicates a float’s initial usefulness but its elimination as one progressed. Erasmus saw the proverb as a metaphor for the teaching of good letters and spoke from his own experience as a pedagogue. After putting students through a rigorous set of rhetorical exercises seven or eight times, the students could swim in Latin without cork. 11 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.4.59 (Adages, 1982, 31:360): “Ferrum natare doces.” 12 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.4.97 (Adages, 1982, 31:381): “Delphinum natare doces.” Erasmus cited Ael. NA 12.12. 13 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 2.2.23 (Adages, 1991, 33:87): “Pedibus ingredior, natare enim non didici.”

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Good teachers can retire their best teaching aids. To grasp the ancient context, Erasmus referred to the Satires of Horace and a comment of the scholiast (Pseudo-)Acron. The scholiast explained that Horace spoke of young people swimming adroitly with cork because the ones who did not know how to swim practiced by tying pieces of cork around their waist. Erasmus deduced that the reed mats mentioned in Plautus functioned like the cork belts to keep novice swimmers afloat.14 Related adages exploited the fact that cork was buoyant. They included “lighter than cork,” “like cork,” and “cork-man.”15 For the inflated bags, Erasmus reminded his readers that, when the Delphic Sibyl uttered her oracle to Theseus, she wove in the adage that one may submerge a bladder full of air but it will not sink. No matter how much force you apply, it will pop back up to the surface. The Sibyl had also tipped off Theseus that such an inflated bag can traverse the sea, ride its waves, and never drown. The proverb metaphorically referred to doing something in vain, but it proved that the ancients on occasion used inflated leather bags for swim floats.16 When practicing the art of swimming, Erasmus knew the futility of struggling against the stream. Ovid and Juvenal urged swimmers to head downstream or angle across a river, especially one with a strong current. As swimmers generally make no progress against the current, so citizens are wise not to challenge a violent or unscrupulous authority.17 Adages on swimming indicated that the Greeks and Romans felt that humans with the requisite talent should learn to swim, aids to assist their early instruction were available, and ancient swimming practice took place in rivers where it was futile to swim against the current. Erasmus included in the Adages at least three ancient proverbs with a direct relationship to free-diving. One proverb characterized diving as an ars that a skilled practitioner taught to a learner: “I taught you the art of free-diving.” 14 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.8.42 (Adages, 1989, 32:145–46): “Sine cortice nabis.” Erasmus cited Hor. Sat. 1.4.119–20; and Plaut. Aul. 595–98. For the scholion, see Ps.-Acron, Scholia in Horatium vetustiora, 2:62 (no. 120). 15 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 2.4.7 (Adages, 1991, 33:192–93): “Subere levior.” Adagiorum chiliades 3.6.26 (Adages, 2005, 35:138): “Tanquam suber.” Adagiorum chiliades 4.6.65 (Adages, 2006, 36:258): “Phellinas.” 16 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 3.4.32 (Adages, 2005, 35:20): “Utrem mergis vento plenum.” The Delphic oracles are recorded in Plut. Vit. Thes. 24.5. 17 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 3.2.9 (Adages, 1992, 34:228): “Contra torrentem niti.” Erasmus cited August. Ep. 73.3; Gregorius of Nazianzus Ep. 178.4; Ov. Rem. am. 121–22; and Juv. 4.89–91. For swimming in the Apophthegmata, see, e.g., Erasmus Apophthegmata 4.84 (Apophthegmata, 2014, 37:361, 38:700), on Alexander’s inability to swim where Erasmus referenced Plut. Vit. Alex. 58.4; and Apophthegmata 3.127 (Apophthegmata, 2014, 37:260), on Aristippus mocking people who boasted about their ability to swim where Erasmus referenced Diog. Laert. 2.8.73.

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The proverb warned that the student could repay such instruction with ingratitude: “and you do your best to drown me.” The adage cautioned that good deeds do not go unpunished. For the ancients free-diving was an art. Sharing the art required specialized abilities and experienced mastery.18 The Adages also included the expression “a Delian kolymbētēs,” where the Greek noun can refer to a swimmer or a diver. According to Erasmus, the proverb may have existed before Socrates utilized it. Erasmus felt that the context dictated the primary sense of a diver.19 Erasmus finally discussed the Greek proverb that Glaucus, after eating the grass, took up residence in the sea. Frankly, the whole Glaucus affair annoyed him. The proverb demonstrated the naivete of the multitude. They were willing to believe that, even after someone like Glaucus died, he magically lives on under the sea. Some gullible contemporaries believed that Charles the Bold of Burgundy, who died besieging Nancy in 1477, was still alive. The preposterous tale got started because Glaucus, a fisherman from Anthedon, had earned a reputation for his mastery of swimming. One day, he swam out of the harbor and disappeared. He then swam to shore, found an isolated spot, and hid there for several days. Re-emerging, Glaucus swam back and announced that he had been living on the waves. To the consternation of Erasmus, the fraudulent reputation of Glaucus acquired a momentum all its own. In winter, Glaucus could supply any fish to the Anthedonians because he had stockpiled the local favorites. In the end, he went to sea one day and never returned. Although Glaucus was eaten by a marine creature, the locals fantasized that he had eaten a mysterious grass, become immortal, and was living underwater. At that point, Erasmus got fed up and referred the reader to Book 7 of the Deipnosophistae of Athenaeus, where one could find Athenaeus prattling on about Glaucus and citing a host of minor Greek sources. The aggregation of nonsense made Erasmus feel nauseous. For Erasmus, Glaucus was nothing but a con artist.20 3

The Innovator: Wynman’s Latin Dialogue on How to Swim

Humanists advocated the teaching of swimming as an art but did not supply a manual for doing so until Nicolaus Wynman wrote a dialogue on swimming 18 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 3.4.84 (Adages, 2005, 35:52): “Docui te urinandi artem.” Erasmus used the Greek kubistan for free-diving. 19 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.6.29 (Adages, 1989, 32:24): “Δήλιος κολυμβητής / Delius natator.” In the Apophthegmata (3.26), Erasmus referred the reader to his discussion in the Adages. 20 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 4.1.63 (Adages, 2005, 35:479–81): “Glaucus comesa herba habitat in mari.”

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entitled Colymbetes (1538). Wynman used the dialogue to address who should learn to swim, where one learned swimming safely, how one achieved mastery in the skill, and why that effort enhanced the moral development of the human person and offered pragmatic benefits. The medium of dialogue, in conscious imitation of the Colloquies of Erasmus, kept the discussion lighthearted. Wynman also introduced substantial digressions to maintain the reader’s attention. His dialogue appropriated adages on swimming and freediving from the storehouse Erasmus supplied, and he mined other aphorisms from that rich vein. Although Wynman conceded that a dialogue on swimming seemed at first sight little more than a silly old tune (cantilena), he made his case for the importance of knowing how to swim on humanist grounds. Greek and Roman sources indicated that young adolescents and particularly military recruits had learned to swim when they learned to read and write. We do not know when we will next encounter a river in flood stage or fall from a horse while crossing over one. At that moment, without knowing how to swim, one would be in grave peril. Because the subject matter of swimming was novel, that hardly meant that it was inconsequential. At a moment none of us could foresee, our own life and the lives of others might well depend on our mastery of the skill. As Virgil noted, chill snakes often lay hidden in tall grass.21 3.1 Who As an art with widespread benefits, swimming was appropriate for women and men. In the treatise’s concluding testimonial to the art, Wynman steered readers to texts of Virgil and Juvenal that described the swim that Horatius Cocles made after defending the Tiber Island bridge, and he noted that the same authors celebrated Cloelia (“Choelia”) for her swim across the Tiber to freedom.22 In the body of his dialogue, Wynman offered contemporary precedent. When discussing the commitment of the Swiss to hand on the art, Pampirus noted that, on temperate summer evenings, the citizens of Zurich swam together in the receptive waters of the Limmat River or the nearby lake. Pampirus went on to describe Swiss boys and girls frolicking in the water and compared their merriment to playful seals and dolphins. In fact, the older Delian swimmers in the group guided the younger ones, as large dolphins did

21 22

Wynman, 1889, 4–6, 16–17, 117 (with comments of Erasmus). Wynman cited Suet. Aug. 64.3, Calig. 54.2; Veg. Mil. 1.10, 2.23; and Verg. Ecl. 3.93. Wynman, 1889, 117. Wynman cited Verg. Aen. 8.650–51; and Juv. 8.261–65.

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for smaller ones.23 The explicit mention of girls surprised Pampirus’s young listener Erotes. He was even more surprised to hear that boys and girls swam together without clothing or shame. Pampirus did concede that ladies wore a comfortable set of swimming drawers designed for the activity. He shifted the emphasis away from nudity to mastery of an art: both genders swam with ease if taught properly. The dialogue partners discussed the appropriateness of the Latin term natrix for a female swimmer. Their initial reservations were based upon the fact that natrix can also mean a water-snake.24 The question of who should learn to swim led later in the dialogue to one of its interludes for comic relief. Erotes peppered Pampirus with a set of questions whose answers refined the issue of who possessed the ability to swim. Did it help to be strong and muscular for swimming? Pampirus said that it was extremely helpful and drew a parallel to running, where one must combine agility and art. Can a pygmy swim? Pampirus responded that pygmies could swim but less efficiently because their hands and feet were shorter. The question recalled the bon mot in Juvenal about the pygmy warrior ill-equipped for battle in his tiny armor. In that case who would win a swim contest between a pygmy and a giant? The question implied that swim contests were familiar to Wynman and his readers. For a giant who could compete, Erotes proposed St. Christopher or Gabbara of Arabia, said by Pliny to be the tallest of all giants at nine feet nine inches. For a pygmy, classical sources offered the reputed son of Mark Antony, measuring in at less than two feet in height but a good swimmer. Pampirus had the pygmy defeating the former (punning on Prior), while the giant would defeat an Abbot.25 How did the Phanesii mentioned by Pliny swim with ears that covered virtually their entire naked bodies? Living on All-ears Island, the Phanesii could swim because their body-sized ears were so light that they acted as a float for their heads. Erotes closed with his most provocative question yet, addressed to a pedagogue convinced that swimming had value for self-rescue. What about the case of Arion, whom the friendly dolphin rescued and swam to shore? Doesn’t that undermine a universal ideal of swimming? Unflustered, Pampirus acknowledged that dolphins were friendly 23

24 25

Wynman, 1889, 38–39: “(Pampirus) Tradunt hanc artem alij alijs velut per manus. Summa, videres ibi veros demum Delios natatores iuxta paroemiam. Neque vero solum pueri, sed & puellae iucundum tibi praeberent spectaculum. (Erotes): Puellae? (Pampirus): Sic, aestate, vespere sereno, aqua diurno temperata sole, gregatim balneant post coenam, fate­ rere phocas atque delphinos sic ludere in aquis.” Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.6.29. Wynman, 1889, 39–40, 43–44. Wynman, 1889, 82: “(Pampirus) Dicam uere, Pygmaeus, si ageret Priorem, gigas Abbatem.” Wynman reworked a line from Erasmus’s 1522 colloquy De lusu (Sport, 1997, 39:80): “You be prior, if you like; I’d rather be abbot.”

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to human beings, but they did not always respond to the sound of the cithara and come to the rescue. As proof, Pampirus adduced Ovid’s mention of the drowning of the comic poet Menander.26 3.2 Where When learning to swim, one should seek a shallow river where the depth of the water reached no higher than the chest. One should also seek a stream with a moderate, steady current.27 Pampirus had developed a list of desirable places and another of places to avoid. His preferences ran to the Aare River in his Swiss homeland and the Hebrus (Marica) River in the land of the Thracians (Bulgarians). He did not particularly like swimming in the Saône River near Lyon and in Lake Geneva. The swifter the current of a river, the less suitable that river was. Pampirus added that a river with a current was better for swimming than one with no current. If the current was steady and not too swift, it carries the swimmer along downstream, allowing for a longer swim. If the river moved slowly and stagnated into pools, the swimmer would have to expend more energy to make similar progress. Pampirus did not specify what he meant by not too swift and how he reached that determination.28 Erotes inquired how one survived a fall into rapids or a whirlpool. In order not to be pulled into the vortex, one had to be especially mindful of the art and battle the tossing maelstrom with alternating blows of the hands and, if necessary, the feet. The legs should drive like a rearing horse. Pampirus granted that where the water is rising and falling, normal swimming will prove inadequate. When the force of the water lifts the swimmer, he should go along with the natural assistance. When the force pulls him under, he should mildly resist. Too ardent a resistance will lead to fatigue and the unhappy consequences that follow.29 Pampirus indicated that questions about rapids and whirlpools were far from academic for those residing in Central Europe. Serious rapids formed at the stone bridge over the Rhine River at Rheinfelden, just upstream from Basel. The raging rapids and steep bordering cliffs at a vortex on the Danube had earned that place the name Big Strudel.30 And the waters of the Rhine 26 Wynman, 1889, 81–84, 130–31n76. Wynman cited Juv. 13.167–70 (Pygmy warrior); Plin. HN 7.74 (Gabbara); Hor. Sat. 1.3.47 (Sisyphus born prematurely), explained in the scholia of Porphyry and Ps.-Acron; Plin. HN 4.95 (Phanesii on All-ears Island); Ov. Ib. 591–92 (unnamed comic writer who drowned); and Hdt. 1.23–24 (Arion who played the cithara). 27 Wynman, 1889, 23. 28 Ibid., 61–62. 29 Ibid., 62–63. 30 See, e.g., Beattie, 102–04.

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Falls at Schaffhausen in Switzerland were swift enough to undercut the art of swimming. The roar of those waters was so loud that it had nearly caused local mill workers to lose their hearing. Even after offloading their cargoes, ships on the Rhine could not negotiate the rapids with the aid of lines to shore. They were either smashed to bits or had to be dragged back upstream. As a result, shippers unloaded their vessels above the Rhine Falls, used carts to portage the cargo well past the falls downstream, and then laded the cargo on different vessels.31 The dialogue partners took up the dangers of the Danube for university students at Ingolstadt who had too much to drink. Having taught at Ingolstadt for several years, Pampirus confided that he prayed that the Danube there become the spring of Cleitor. Ovid said that anyone who drank from Cleitor shunned the wine goblet and imbibed only water. The transformation would reduce drinking among students, assure that students swim in the river when sober, and undercut the cultural appeal of wine. University students too often drank until they vomited. Erotes wondered if Pampirus would choose the spring of Cleitor over the Lyncestis River. After drinking a tiny quantity of water from the river, one was inebriated. Pampirus emphatically chose Cleitor. He had no sympathy for local merchants who might see their businesses suffer. They had exploited the students by dyeing or adulterating their wines. Pampirus questioned a similar fraud about supposed gold-bearing rivers. Erotes had triggered that reaction by mentioning the legendary golden sands of the Pactolus River. Pampirus countered with empirical observations. While swimming in rivers that purportedly produced the precious metal, particularly the Rhine, he had never found any gold whatsoever. But he had almost lost what the gold and pearls of Cleopatra herself could not buy back. When pressed, Pampirus said that he meant his life.32 3.3 How From the chance meeting that opens the dialogue, Wynman used a lighthearted tone to communicate that he was deadly serious about the dangers of water. When Erotes came running up to Pampirus out of breath, the master inquired why so. He told Pampirus that the world had almost lost Erotes. Traveling between Worms and Speyer along the path bordering the Rhine River, he had encountered a fierce sandstorm. Covered in dust, Erotes went to the river to wash off. He admitted that he would have drowned had he not called 31 32

Wynman, 1889, 63–64, citing Hom. Il. 5.785–86. For the adage “Noisier than Stentor,” see Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 2.3.37 (Adages, 1991, 33:150). Wynman, 1889, 91–94, citing Ov. Met. 15.322–23, 329–31.

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upon Christ who calmed the storm as he had done in the Gospel. Pampirus advised Erotes to beware that anything untoward happen to him in a river. Pampirus knew that Erotes liked to have fun in water, but he was not proficient in the necessary art.33 A bit later in the conversation, Pampirus revealed that his own introduction to swimming had been similarly traumatic. But first Pampirus became the mouthpiece for Wynman’s fundamental conviction in writing the dialogue. He needed to explain swimming as an art beneficial for every human person (homo). Wynman argued that swimming was not a natural human ability. The art trained a novice swimmer through reliable principles, and the swimmer then applied those principles to become proficient.34 Wynman communicated the essential triad of a classical art. For Wynman, there was no question of the utility of swimming. Whenever danger threatened on a body of water, one schooled in swimming made it more easily back to land.35 He did anticipate the objection that proficient swimmers drown. People who know how to swim do drown, but their drowning was not the fault of the art. It was almost always the fault of overconfidence. Presumptuous swimmers treated the skill the way that sailors treated their sacred anchor: they looked for it only as a last resort in dire crisis. By then, it was usually too late. For Wynman, the dialogue on swimming also functioned as an allegory of the spiritual life for Christian believers.36 No one knew the inventor of the art of swimming, but Pampirus extrapolated that the individual was energetic and bold. That creative mind worked with the same tools that all inventors of the arts employed. They carefully observed the guidance offered by nature, and they used their own intellectual abilities to discover, formulate, and test reliable principles for success. Pampirus envisioned the anonymous person with time to spare venturing into a not terribly deep river while replaying the image of a fish in his mind. The person tried moving his hands and feet in various ways until hitting upon a way to propel himself in the water. Thereafter, it was a matter of tinkering with the initial success to perfect the art.37 Pampirus reflected on his first attempt to swim and derived valuable principles from the experience. When Pampirus was almost thirteen, his mother grew concerned that he was undersized for his age. To be short in Switzerland 33 34 35 36 37

Wynman, 1889, 8–10. Wynman cited Strabo 17.1.54; and Hdt. 4.173. Wynman, 1889, 10: “(Erotes) Putan hanc esse artem? (Pampirus) Quid ni? in homine quidem, cum illi nec natura cognita sit, sed certis quibusdam et regulis addiscatur, et usu deinde ipso perfecta reddatur.” Wynman, 1889, 10–11. Ibid., 11, 50–51. See Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.1.24 (Adages, 1982, 31:72). Wynman, 1889, 14–15.

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would make him the object of ridicule for the rest of his life. She took Pampirus to the hot springs at Leuk near Sion (Sitten) in the Alpine region of the Upper Valais.38 His mother hoped that the heat of the waters would loosen her son’s muscles and permit him to grow. The trip introduced Pampirus to swimming. One morning, he made discreet progress in learning the art. His companions held him up and urged him to move his feet and hands properly. When the others left to eat lunch, Pampirus stayed behind. He wanted to practice alone because he feared that his compatriots would mock his clumsy stroke. Fortunately, he was not alone. As Pampirus sensed he was making progress, his satisfaction deepened, but the longer he swam, the more tired he felt. Only then did he realize that he had ventured into water so deep that one as short as he could not stand up. He began to sink because he forgot the art, and he gulped down the hot water that tasted nothing like a good red wine from Sion. At a moment of desperate need, an old woman who was hidden in a dark corner of the baths realized that she had not seen the boy swimming for a while. She approached the spring and saw only his hands and feet thrashing in the water. She screamed, others ran to assist, and they lifted out little Pampirus half-dead. He emerged from the water a changed person, comparable to the proverbial snake that has shed its old skin. And he began to derive principles for the art of swimming. One had to persevere to learn the art; a single morning supported by companions was insufficient. He always swam thereafter with companions, never alone. He developed a theory that the human body is more buoyant in hot water than cold. And he held himself to a greater standard of caution when swimming.39 In elaborating swim techniques, Wynman returned to the fundamental sources he posited for any art. The primary exemplars that nature provided to help humans understand swimming were fish. Wynman then had Pampirus set down basic rules for Erotes. First, we swim to stay alive or maintain conditioning, not to show off or engage in dangerous foolhardiness. Second, we should learn to swim in a safe environment, ideally a small stream with water chest deep and a moderate, steady current. If a swimmer practices in deep water, a boat should follow next to him and help him out as soon as he shows any sign of weakening. Pampirus emphasized caution in the water environment based upon gruesome experience. He knew of a student who kicked his feet down so deeply in Lake Zurich that they became entangled in the thick swamp grasses. The wretch struggled to free himself until he was exhausted. 38 39

Ibid., 17–18. See, e.g., Le Roy Ladurie, 3–8. Wynman, 1889, 18–22, citing Strabo 8.6.20 (“When you round Cape Malea, say goodbye to your home”). See also Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 2.4.46 (Adages, 1991, 33:214).

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Fishermen had to use a pole to find the corpse and recover it for burial. A lovely young girl suffered a similar fate. Pampirus’s final rule insisted that every learner have an instructor as a companion, one who literally goes along (comes). The instructor will have attained such proficiency that he can demonstrate the basic movements of the stroke on land and in a stream. For Wynman, the art yielded fluent motion in water. The trained eye of a competent instructor can see proficiency or diagnose reasons for its absence.40 The teacher offered preliminary instruction out of the water, offered physical support without interfering with free movement in the water, praised those elements done properly, and censured those done incorrectly.41 In the absence of a teacher, a novice swimmer could practice, but he should use a float for safety. Pampirus enumerated three different types of flotation device, all of which had an ancient pedigree. First, one could tie together a bundle of reeds and then lie on top of them on the stomach. Second, one could use cork, mindful of the adage that he will one day swim without it. Finally, one could bind together two inflated leather bladders and then tie them around the body in a such way that the bladders left the swimmer free to move comfortably. Pampirus expressed a preference for the reed float, provided that the reeds were sufficiently buoyant due to their porous character.42 For Pampirus the preference for a reed float went all the way back to his childhood. Growing up in Zurich, he used to play a game with the other boys and girls. They fashioned duck-shaped floats from reeds, mounted them in an ordered line of battle, and swam three times around the statue of Saint Nicholas that marked the legal extent of the city’s communal fishing grounds. Pampirus had good memories of his boyhood days swimming in Zurich. Mild summer evenings brought out large crowds of girls and boys, and their playful interaction led on occasion to courtship and marriage. The ordered circuits of the Nicholas statue on the duck floats helped all learn to be at ease in the water. Summer also brought foot races to the end of the mole where the Wasserkirche stood perched over the river. The competitors lined up and waited their turn to dive headfirst into the river from the cutwater at the apse end. Pampirus assured Erotes that such an entry was safe since every diver kept his hands in front of his head. A feet-first entry brought the risk of being split down the middle if the legs separated. To prove that the divers had 40 Wynman, 1889, 23–24, 29–30, 36, 43–44. See also Ralph Thomas, 167–68n2. 41 Wynman, 1889, 35–36. 42 Ibid., 36. Wynman used the rare, late Latin term porositas. Hor. Sat. 1.4.119–20. See also Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.8.42 (Adages, 1989, 32:145–46).

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figure 11 Wasserkirche, Zurich

reached the river bottom, they had to retrieve a pebble and bring it to the surface. Failure meant that the diver faced the humiliation of being tossed back in. Wynman used three animal images to depict the stages in diving: winged creatures plunged toward the river, trout submerged in the crystal-clear water, and bottom-feeding fish searched for pebbles.43 Diving also took place from bridges in Basel and Constance. As a swim instructor, Pampirus had special affection for Zurich. The civic community promoted swimming in amenable local settings, learners had opportunities for assiduous practice, and the city had the best teachers who handed on the art’s principles from generation to generation. Pampirus betrayed such confidence in his ability to teach swimming that Erotes needled him for behaving like the blowhard Thraso in Terence’s comedy The Eunuch.44 Supplying steps toward mastery of various swim strokes indicated pedagogical confidence. The instructor should break the movement of each stroke into its constituent parts. Among ways to swim, Pampirus emphasized the breaststroke and split its teaching into the movements of the upper and lower body.45 For the upper body, he treated the hands, the arms, and the proper body position in the water. The swimmer should cup his hands, stretch out his palms, and always keep his fingers together. To illustrate the importance 43 44 45

Wynman, 1889, 36–42, esp. 42: “Ibi cerneres primum alatos pueros, mox trutas, postremo fundulos; nam uitreo colore fluuius est.” Ibid., 12. Ibid., 24–28 for the upper body (prior corporis pars), and 28–35 for the legs and feet (posterior pars). The verbal description ended with an in-water demonstration by Pampirus.

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of not separating the fingers, Pampirus noted that river currents more easily carried logs without fissures downstream. By contrast a rake (reading pecten for pertica) and a grill do not confront waves well because water rushes through their gaps.46 Erotes acknowledged that he had seen people try to swim with their fingers spread apart, and they quickly got in trouble. Pampirus contended that dogs were poor models for swimming precisely because they separated their claws in the water. That forced them to work harder. They wore down and often succumbed to exhaustion. Wynman may have reached his conclusion about the poor swimming of dogs from an a priori conviction that one must not separate fingers in the water. When detailing the contribution of the arms to the breaststroke, Pampirus used the hands as a guide. At the start, they were joined at the swimmer’s chest. In moving the hands forward and around, the swimmer should angle them to the water. Pampirus argued that the hands exerted a greater force in pushing the waves at an oblique angle because water is a dense medium. To ground the principle, he offered three illustrations. First, rowers angled the blade of their oars to the water. Second, when shaving, one held the blade at an oblique angle. Third, to deliver a cutting blow with a sword, one slanted the edge. Pampirus then described the complete rotation of the arms. One began with the hands together in the middle of the chest. The swimmer then extended them forward as far as possible, drew them apart to both sides, circled them around widely and somewhat deliberately, and returned them to the starting position at midchest. Pampirus gave Erotes two further cautions about the arm movement. A swimmer should position the arms about a half-foot below the surface of the water and never break the surface during the stroke. And he should always complete a full rotation, starting and finishing at mid-chest or lower. For as long as one swam, the arms had to maintain that motion. Pampirus finished the upper body by giving counsel on proper position. The swimmer should lift the chest until the neck was out of the water. That allowed the swimmer to see what was ahead. Pampirus decried spinning the head around like a madman, which was a kind of death wish for a swimmer. He also advised not to incline the head toward either ear. If a swimmer inclined toward the right ear, then only the right hand propelled the body during the arm stroke while the left hand circled in tightly. By way of analogy, he pointed to the inefficiency of movement for one who limped on one leg or a bird who flies without extending both wings. Nature confirmed the correctness of a lifted body in the fluent motion of a swimming snake. Pampirus then recapped 46 Ibid., 24: “(Pampirus) Quem enim putas impetum redderet diuisa crebrisque distincta dentibus pertica uel craticula, uel tracta per undas?”

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the substance of proper movement and body position for breaststroke. Each hand should extend equally on its respective side, and the head should not lean to either side. Swimmers should lie flat on the stomach and angle the chest upward, they should face straight ahead, and they should let the current help propel them in the water. Such a position assured that the swimmer will move in a straight line, not meander. Lying on the stomach with the torso extended also assured that the swimmer will float. The swimmer used the lower body to offer support by using the feet underneath as oars in the way the instructor had taught. As the hands are the key to success for the upper body, so the feet are for the lower body.47 Nature once again supplied an exemplar. A swimmer did well to imitate the movement of a frog’s hind legs. The frog’s front legs were so short that they were no help. Pampirus cited Ovid, who had observed that frogs are born without legs but soon developed hind legs powerfully adapted to swimming and jumping. When using the feet for propulsion, Pampirus specified that they descended a little lower in the water than do the hands.48 Erotes then asked if it was not difficult to concentrate on the hands and feet at the same time, and Pampirus complimented him on his question. Swim instructors know the danger of overloading the circuits of young swimmers with too many things to focus on at once. Nonetheless, Pampirus noted that skilled organists and weavers can do two things simultaneously and achieve positive results. Pampirus then offered counsel on the finer points of the leg kick that should help to ensure success. The swimmer should keep his toes together, as he does his fingers. He should coordinate the movement of hands and feet, as fish or rowers on a galley do. Imitating the sound technique of ducks, a swimmer should push his feet out and around in a circle and then pull them in together. The feet likewise should never break the surface. In treating the lower body, Pampirus closed with a few recommendations on breath control. The swimmer should slightly inflate the stomach and hold the breath. A swollen body was more comfortable in the water and remained buoyant. Among Wynman’s principles, this is one of the more questionable. Good breath control involves inhaling and exhaling without retaining the breath. Infants start their swim lessons by learning to blow bubbles in the water. And a streamlined body, not a swollen one, creates less drag in the water. The method of breaking

47 48

Wynman, 1889, 28: “(Pampirus) Audi nunc reliqua seduloque, ut facis, animadverte, quomodo item sit pedibus docte subremigandum, ut quemadmodum prius corpus manus recte ferunt, ita hi posterius possint.” Ibid., 29–30, 32–33, referencing Ov. Met. 15.375–78.

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a stroke into its constituent elements still assists an instructor when teaching a motor skill like swimming. Pampirus also described methods to swim on the back and tread water. The fact that humans had learned to do a back float was impressive but had little practical value. Pampirus felt that the technique served more for entertaining and showing off. And one should not underestimate the risks involved in floating on the water without using the hands and feet for propulsion. Pampirus imagined a moment when a swimmer was resting his hands and feet and a sudden gust of wind stirred the water. Reacting with panic, the swimmer might well take in water with air. He did concede that floating and resting on the back were helpful if one became tired while swimming breaststroke. Pampirus showed Erotes how to swim on the back. One should begin by slipping down so gently that you barely disturb the water. The art in this instance lay in coming to resemble a corpse, something Pampirus achieved on the Danube. Once on his back, the swimmer should extend his body to its full length. He should lie still like a cadaver on a bier or the harmless tree trunk that, in Aesop’s fable, Jupiter gave the frogs who had asked for a king. The back floater should make swift movements with his hands, keeping his elbows pressed to his sides. The dialogue illustrates the difficulty of describing in humanist Latin an action such as sculling. Pampirus clarified his meaning through comparisons. Hawks hover by flapping their wings, fish remain upright in the water by moving their pelvic fins rapidly on both sides, and knives are sharpened forward and back on a whetstone. Pampirus then gave advice on body position and breath control. For body position, unlike the breaststroke, one should not lift the head. Lifting the head upsets the balance and forces the lower body down in the water. If a swimmer did begin to sense his lower body sinking, he should row with his feet as gently as possible. Upon inhaling, one should swell out the body and retain the breath. It was advisable to breathe quickly through the nose.49 For the swim stroke commonly described as trampling on water, Pampirus saw value in standing for a time if one was not comfortable floating. Later in the dialogue, he argued that treading water aided the efforts of a swimmer who had to remove his boots. If a swimmer entered the water clothed and wished to get rid of those impediments, he had little difficulty removing his double cloak, 49 Wynman, 1889, 44–48, esp. 46: “(Pampirus) Videbis. Supinus te committe aquae, ita posito et capite et pedibus in longitudinem. (Erotes) Intelligo. (Pampirus) Atque pedes accurate ac pressim iunctos serua.” Wynman referenced Aesop 27 (Barlow 36 / Perry 44 / Ademar 21) (Aesop’s Fables, “Jupiter and the Frogs,” 17–18), Aesopica: Aesop’s Fables in Latin, Greek, and English (no. 27), http://www.mythfolklore.net/aesopica//oxford/27.htm.

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tunic, drawers, and hose. But the boots were more complicated. A swimmer could cut them off, or he could remove them efficiently if he knew how to tread water.50 Pampirus offered his method for treading. Keeping the body upright, the swimmer should move his hands in the same rapid motion he used for swimming on the back. He should hold his breath from the start to establish his position. He then pushed the water down with his feet, alternating one foot with the other. Peasants used their feet in the same way to crush grapes after the fall harvest. The position of the toes of the foot varied: going down, they are pressed together for lift and coming up they are spread apart to minimize downward impetus. Pampirus conceded that it would help if humans had the flexible webbed feet of geese and ducks. He also conceded that his comparison to peasants’ crushing grapes was not the most subtle.51 The instruction on stroke techniques confirmed the dialogue’s basic contention that swimming was not simply physical exercise. It was an art requiring principles and practice. And Pampirus continued to warn his young listener that those who master the art can still misuse it and drown. In extreme difficulties, those who have not entirely mastered the art still turn to it in desperation. As with the last anchor cast in a storm, it may be too late.52 A smattering of knowledge was always dangerous. We attribute too much of our success to ourselves and too little of our success to mastery of the art. Pampirus laid out principles for proficiency in various strokes. He also sought to offer a solid rationale for the need to learn the art. 3.4 Why As a humanist Wynman based his rationale on classical standards for swimming’s worth. Wynman defended swimming by contending that it had value for all human beings and especially for military recruits. That explained why the Greeks and Romans taught swimming when they taught literacy. As a militarized society, Sparta toughened its male citizens from childhood by having them swim in harsh conditions. The Romans had military recruits train on the Campus Martius near the Tiber River. As recruits washed off the dust of their drills by swimming in Rome’s river, so Erotes tried to wash off the dust of the storm he encountered by swimming in the Rhine River. In an unexpected crisis, those who swam well could save themselves and help save others. Soldiers who swam well could overcome the obstacle of a river and no bridge. But mastering 50 51 52

Wynman, 1889, 68–69. Ibid., 49–50. For the adage “stupid Minerva teaching,” see Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.1.37 (Adages, 1982, 31:85–86). Wynman, 1889, 50–51.

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the art was the sine qua non. The general public assumed that, when in danger and swallowing water, we miraculously figure out how to swim. Pampirus did not subscribe to the method of “throw one in at the deep end.” In a moment of crisis, humans might panic and forget the art. Even Delian swimmers fail to remember proper technique. The same dynamic applied to virtually every art in life. Orators fall silent when they step in front of famous people, and gladiators fight like rustics when frightened or enraged. Good swimmers were cognizant of potential danger and honed their senses to anticipate trouble.53 To underline the folly of presumptuousness, Wynman enumerated dangers one might encounter when swimming. Pampirus warned that a cold current running through water can cause involuntary diarrhea and shivering. The shivering often led the muscles to cramp. That made it impossible to swim. Erotes brought to the master’s attention the claim by some to have a remedy for cramping, but Pampirus reminded his student that those persons were not always present when you needed them. Erotes then inquired if one hand or foot would suffice when the other cramped up. Pampirus retorted that it would suffice to keep the person in the company of bottom-feeders. The disciple chastised the master for twisting his meaning. Pampirus then noted that he personally could survive for a time because he had expert proficiency. However, he warned that, like anyone else, he too would be in danger if he had to swim for a long time while figuratively cut in half. He reminded Erotes of a cart with a broken wheel, a bird with one wing, a person with one foot, or a boat with one oar.54 The best offense was a good defense. Once Erotes had mastered the art, Pampirus urged him to prepare himself mentally for a swim in a lake or river. He should anticipate the most serious problems and mitigate their danger by planning ahead. For example, fording a river is less dangerous if one proceeds with caution. As you go, you should remind yourself that, along your path, a whirlpool or sudden drop-off or dangerous object may lie concealed. The same holds for swimming. A swimmer who experiences fatigue in the water may try to put his legs down. If the swimmer discovers that his feet cannot touch bottom, having not found what he hoped for, he may panic and flail until exhausted. To prevent accidental drowning, swimmers should anticipate 53 Ibid., 4–5, 15–17, 51. 54 Ibid., 51–53, esp. 51–52: “(Pampirus) Natantes autem non pauca manent praeterea pericula. Sunt frigidissimae in aquis mediis / venae, quae crebrius occurrentes lumbos laxant, ac corpus frigore insolito quassatum tandem prorsus labefactant. Quo deinceps, si accesserit spasmus, natantium illa quidem plerunque praesens certaque pernicies actum fuerit. Ita enim membra prius debilitata constringit, ut non amplius remigio possis uti consueto.” Plin. HN 8.129 used the expression “laxandis intestinis.”

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problems and prepare solutions. Pampirus confided to Erotes that he had been reckless in many lakes and rivers. It made him shudder to recall the ways that he had tempted fate by misusing the art.55 To underline the threat, Pampirus offered Erotes concrete examples. Pampirus had witnessed more than one tragedy firsthand, and, years later, he still felt intense sorrow. One event especially demonstrated that there were always dangers on the water, even for the best of swimmers. A group of approximately thirty students went on an outing to the island in the Danube River near Vienna. They should have looked for a good time in a placid spring, not a powerful river. Pampirus took the opportunity to swim from the island to shore and back. Among the outing’s participants, there was a friend of Pampirus, who was the scion of a noble family and a standout in Latin letters. While no one noticed, the young aristocrat slipped into the water and tried to swim across the river alone. He found himself in trouble and cried for help as he panicked. Pampirus recognized the signs of a swimmer who had forgotten his mastery of the art. The aristocratic youth struggled to lift himself in the water. He splayed his hands and feet apart. He vomited up the water he had swallowed. As Pampirus contemplated a rescue attempt, he realized that there were no row boats nearby and no one was willing to swim with him. The Upper Danube at Vienna is a high energy waterway, fed from steep slopes reaching all the way into the Alps and located downstream from a funneling gorge. Pampirus did not trust himself to swim alone and rescue such a strong compatriot near exhaustion. He felt that he had no choice but to abandon the young noble to his fate.56 Wynman closed the dialogue by enumerating drowning victims in classical literature. Historical and fictional fatalities testify to the value of learning how to swim. The casualties included the young argonaut Hylas (Verg. Ecl. 6.43–44); Trojan companions of Aeneas like Leucaspis and Orontes (Verg. Aen. 1.102–03, 6.333–36), the helmsman Palinurus (Verg. Aen. 5.870–71), and the trumpeter Misenus (Verg. Aen. 6.171–74); King Tiberinus Silvius who by drowning lent his name to the Tiber River (Ov. Fast. 4.47–48); and Helle who fell from the golden ram and gave her name to the Hellespont (Ov. Fast. 3.870, 4.715–16, Her. 19.123– 24; Prop. 2.26a.5–6).57 Wynman emphasized that Icarus would have survived if he had known how to swim (Ov. Tr. 1.1.89–90, Met. 8.183–235), Leander would 55 56 57

Wynman, 1889, 53–55. Ibid., 56–58. See, e.g., Winiwarter, Schmid, and Dressel, 102–07, 111–13. The frontispiece for the first edition has the two verses from Propertius and an illustration of a bearded Phrixus still clutching the ram’s fleece. Wynman, 1538, Sig. A1, reproduced in Wynman, 1889, 1.

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have reached his beloved Hero if the storms were not so strong (Mart. Spect. 1.29[25B]; Ov. Her. 18–19, Tr. 3.10.35–42), the poet Eupolis would not have died in a shipwreck (the Suda s.v. Εὔπολις),58 and the comic poet Menander would not have drowned in a shallow river (Ov. Ib. 590–92). As recently as April 1500, the mercenary and poet Michele Marullo Tarcaniota would have survived his fall into the swollen Cecina River. All those victims pointed to the need not only to learn the art of swimming but practice it regularly.59 Pampirus emphasized that the Greeks and Romans had a proverb about the supremely ignorant. You can recognize them because they know neither how to swim nor letters. In their youth they learned nothing of the liberal arts. To illustrate that the ancients valued swimming, he cited the time when Socrates used the adage about a Delian swimmer to illustrate the opacity of the arguments of Heraclitus. The proverb was still used in Wynman’s day to reproach the willfully ignorant.60 Pampirus elaborated the lifesaving techniques he had used to rescue five different individuals. He felt that the best way to rescue a distressed swimmer was to use a small boat or raft. If forced to swim, the rescuer should take a club or plank of wood that would help support the person in trouble. As the rescuer approached, he should extend the wood float and tell the one struggling to grab it. The rescuer held the opposite end. Once the person in danger had a firm grasp, the rescuer should help calm him down. Pampirus warned Erotes that the distressed swimmer might toss away the float and grab the one helping him. Panic makes the swimmer’s grasp tenacious, and the rescuer could become a second fatality. A panicked swimmer’s grip can be so strong that the rescuer can no longer swim or tread. The rescuer should compel the distressed swimmer to let go and resume the art of swimming on his own. If the rescuer cannot reason with the distressed swimmer, he should leave the wood float behind and save himself. If, on the other hand, the rescuer can get the distressed swimmer to hold the float and calm down, he should tell him to obey his commands and then drag him to the nearest exit point. The victim can assist by kicking. When Erotes inquired whether the rescuer will have to make the swim to the exit point with only one hand, Pampirus confirmed his deduction.61 Pampirus claimed to have rescued a swimmer once without using a float. The incident occurred on the Danube River near Ingolstadt. Pampirus had 58 59 60 61

See, e.g., Storey, 52, 56–60, 378–81. Wynman, 1889, 114–16. Wynman, 1889, 116–17. See also ibid., 16. Ibid., 58–59.

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spotted a half-dead friend struggling in the water. He did not have time to look around for a float. His mind kept seeing the image of a gull going under and coming back up. It goaded him to act. He jumped from a high bank and swam out to the place where he had last seen his friend submerge. When the friend resurfaced, he grabbed Pampirus by his right arm. Two factors prevented their both drowning. Pampirus followed his guidelines, and his companion heeded his warnings. Pampirus was able to get his friend to shore, where he admitted that he was mentally writing a will under the Danube’s swirling waters. Pampirus acknowledged that it was a dangerous rescue, but he did not fault himself for recklessness. Because there was no time to lose, he had to leap into the river and take his chances without a float. It was still preferable to use a float.62 In addition to saving others, Pampirus and his fellow swimmers at times had to save themselves. Personal error, undue boldness, negligence by sailors, and even bad luck put them in crisis. Swimming protected their lives.63 Pampirus reminded Erotes of a resourceful prisoner who made his escape from Zurich’s Wellenberg prison, situated on an island in the Limmat River. The escapee lowered himself on a makeshift rope of linen rags, swam from the island to the opposite bank of the river, and took asylum in a monastery nearby.64 Sailors had their best chance to survive in a storm if they were skillful swimmers; they had little chance otherwise. Erotes brought up the dramatic opening of the Aeneid where Virgil evoked Trojans tossed about on violent waves. Pampirus acknowledged that sudden confusion could prove fatal, but he argued that those experienced in the art of swimming survived, especially if they got hold of floating debris. Ancient epics encouraged readers to believe they could survive shipwreck and swim for a time in a storm. Virgil indicated that Palinurus survived his fall into the sea only to be slain after making land, and Homer recounted that Odysseus swam for a long time in a raging tempest. Erotes objected that Ino had supplied Odysseus a plank to support him in the water. Pampirus granted that the plank did help, but Odysseus still had to kick with his feet while leaning on it. Wynman consistently endorsed using a wooden float as a life preserver. From classical epic, Erotes shifted to recent history. When the fleet of Charles V was returning from victory in Tunisia in 1535, a shipwreck cost the lives of approximately seventy of Charles’s soldiers. Once in the water, some of the soldiers contributed to the deaths of others. Pampirus characterized those deaths as regrettable, but he insisted that, while the never 62 63 64

Ibid., 59–60, referencing Verg. Ecl. 7.26. Wynman, 1889, 60–61. Ibid., 103–04.

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hospitable Charybdis sucked in the less fortunate, others were reported to have swum to safety.65 Erotes pressed Pampirus to reveal what he would do if he found himself on a ship in danger of wrecking and had to abandon ship. Pampirus replied that he would take off anything that impeded his swimming and his assisting other sailors. Odysseus threw away the ornate clothing given him by Calypso because it hindered his stroke. Life was more precious than luxury garments. Stripped down, Pampirus would toss himself into the water from bow or stern. He acknowledged that he could get to a safe harbor more easily if he swam alone. Companions who are close in the water will latch on from desperation. They pose a serious threat. Pampirus would look for a piece of wood he could use to help him stay afloat. Finding an aid to flotation was crucial if one had to swim a long distance. Supplementing your mastery of swimming with whatever aid made itself available was sound practice. Erotes wondered whether Pampirus could remove his clothing in the water if he had not done so beforehand. The clothing itself was easy to take off, but boots were a problem. Treading water assisted.66 Erotes raised the possibility of falling through ice and wondered if Pampirus thought that the art of swimming could save him. Pampirus was confident it would unless he was carried too great a distance from the opening.67 The hypothetical became real when Pampirus was traveling on a passenger barge about to pass under the stone bridge (Steinerne Brücke) over the Danube at Regensburg (Ratisbon). The crew was by then drunk, garrulous, and distracted. They allowed the barge to drift into the swiftest section of the river. It slammed into the bridge’s cutwater. The passengers cried out in prayer. Pampirus composed himself. He renewed his trust in God and his mastery of the art of swimming. He prepared to cast himself into the raging waters and, if necessary, take with him a nearby infant cradled in his mother’s arms. Wynman modeled his portrait of a trusting Pampirus on Erasmus’s depiction of a trusting mother nursing her child in the 1523 colloquy entitled The Shipwreck (Naufragium). Erasmus juxtaposed the mother’s confident trust in the abundance of divine grace to the superstitious actions of her fellow travelers.68 Pampirus added his journey four years earlier on a long, sturdy cargo vessel carrying iron to Ulm. The helmsman had disembarked. That reliable Palinurus 65 66 67 68

Ibid., 64–67. Wynman referred to Verg. Aen. 1:106–07, 118 (Aeolus and the storm), 6.347–61 (Palinurus); Hom. Od. 5.313–27, 370–75. Wynman, 1889, 66–69. Ibid., 104–06. Harry Houdini had such an experience. See, e.g., Gosnell, 40. Wynman, 1889, 69–70. For Erasmus’s Naufragium, see Colloquies, 1997, 39:351–67.

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was replaced by a ferocious individual who was as little trustworthy as a barbarian Sarmatian or Charon himself. As the vessel approached a bridge over the Danube near Donauwörth, a fierce storm unleashed blinding snow mixed with hail. Pampirus took his cue for the gravity of the situation from the behavior of the crew. Already upset that they were navigating without their customary helmsman, their silence proved eloquent in gauging the threat posed by the bridge. Fearing that the vessel would slam broadside into the structure and bring it down, the crew members were preparing to abandon ship. Pampirus readied himself to leap into the water. He was convinced that, without divine intervention, the tragedy would have played out in just that way. Three times the vessel snagged, slowing its momentum. As the runaway vessel halted the final time, another cargo vessel approached, heading upstream. Horses towed the ship against the current. The horses were pressed into service to pull the grounded iron transport up on shore, and all disembarked.69 The essential elements in Pampirus’s survival kit, combining trust in God and one’s mastery of the art of swimming, had Biblical sanction. Pampirus adduced the shipwreck of the apostle Paul in a storm while entering a bay on the island of Malta. He added Jesus, who walked on the water, and Peter, who had the ability to swim after the resurrection that had failed him previously.70 Wynman believed that supernatural forces could play a protective role when Europeans traveled on various bodies of water. Those traveling on the Danube sang a traditional short song to Christ and then another to St. Christopher, whom Pampirus rated a strong treader of water.71 Bad personal judgment could still put a traveler at extreme risk. It played a role in another tragic drowning. Pampirus told Erotes that he had recently made a trip to Breslau (Wrocław) in Silesia for a literary contest held at the school attached to St. Elizabeth’s Church. One of the students tempted fate when he secretly set out to swim in the Oder River. As soon as his absence was noted, master and students conducted a search. They recovered his lifeless body a long way downstream. The rescuers carried the corpse back to the school where the teacher whipped it with a rod before consigning it for burial. The school had a custom that one who died because he disobeyed the rules should be punished, even posthumously. The school’s norms forbade swimming in the Oder without the explicit permission of the teacher.72 69 Wynman, 1889, 70–73. 70 Ibid., 75–76. Wynman referred to Acts 27 (Paul’s voyage and shipwreck); Matt. 14:22–27 (Jesus walking on water); Matt. 14:28–31 (Peter’s failure), John 21:1–14 (Peter’s success). 71 Wynman, 1889, 73–74. 72 Ibid., 84–85, citing Hor. Epist. 2.1.70–71 (Lucius Orbilius Pupillus of Beneventum nicknamed “the flogger” because he gave students severe thrashings with a switch). The

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Pampirus maintained that swimming also had value for military operations. The wartime benefits allowed him to underline how ancient an art swimming had to be and how ancient Germans on campaign outdid their Mediterranean contemporaries and modern counterparts in their ability to swim. Pampirus rated as proof of sound training the fact that a soldier could swim across a river carrying light arms like a spear. Even loose military clothing should not prevent a soldier from swimming. Soldiers gave supreme proof of their mastery when they swam in a full suit of armor. Wynman used the Greek term panoplia found in Polybius as well as the Gospel of Luke and the letter to the Ephesians.73 Pampirus cited the case of Horatius Cocles who swam the Tiber that way and saved his country. He applauded the group of Roman soldiers who relied on their swimming proficiency and muscular strength to race out to fleeing Carthaginian ships and drag them back to shore. And he added the manliness of the swimming exhibited by a Roman soldier named Scaeva in Britain, who held a rock outcrop by himself, suffered grievous wounds, and managed to swim back to Caesar dragging two breastplates. Wynman found all three Roman examples in the chapter that Valerius Maximus dedicated to bravery.74 Pampirus ended with a lengthy commendation of German heroics as swimmers. The dialogue was a grand inclusion. In the dedicatory letter, Wynman emphasized that anyone crossing a river in flood stage, even on horseback, was in grave danger if he fell in. At treatise’s end, Wynman praised the Germans for their legendary renown from ancient times in crossing rivers by swimming in the water or on horseback. The Germans need not envy the Greeks or Romans, for Pomponius Mela, Herodianus, and Tacitus commended the Germans for mastering the art of swimming. Germans who accidentally fell into deep channels did not drown. When hard pressed by a pursuing enemy and unable to muster boats, Germans swam across a river.75 Wynman used classical citations on German swimming in battle that Franciscus Irenicus (1495–1559/1564) compiled for his 1518 Germaniae Exegesis. Irenicus devoted a chapter to the German passion for swimming and related physical activities.76 Swiss schoolmaster Thomas Platter had attended St. Elizabeth’s school because it had a tradition of welcoming Swiss students. See, e.g., Autobiography, 1847, 22–25; and Le Roy Ladurie, 17–23. 73 Wynman, 1889, 102–03. For panoplia, see Polyb. 38.8.6; Luke 11:22; and Eph. 6:13. 74 Val. Max. 3.2.1 (Horatius Cocles), 3.2.10 (soldiers dragging Carthaginian vessels), 3.2.23b (Scaevius). 75 Wynman, 1889, 6, 101–02. 76 Franciscus Irenicus Germaniae Exegesis 2.23 (Germaniae Exegeseos volumina duodecima, 1518, fols. 36v–37). See, e.g., Cordes; and Guenther.

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Wynman gleaned references to demonstrate German preeminence in the water. Germans had to be adept swimmers because they only washed in rivers, they exploited rivers to protect a retreat (Herodianus), they swam in formation and never lost a man when withdrawing (Ammianus Marcellinus), they crossed rivers on horseback (Herodianus), and they had become so inured to the cold that they enjoyed swimming in wintertime (Caesar and Pomponius Mela). A trio of astrologists – Manilius, Iulius Firmicus Maternus, Philippus Beroaldus – traced this inbred ability to the number of Germans born under Pisces or other favorable signs.77 Among German tribal groups singled out in antiquity, Wynman noted the Cimbri (Danes and Swedes) whom Plutarch applauded, and the Batavi whom Tacitus praised for learning to swim so well at a young age that they scoffed at any threat posed by the waters.78 Wynman inferred that the Greeks had lumped the Gauls and Germans together under the single rubric “Celts” (Celti). A Greek epigram translated by Giovanni Battista Pio (c. 1460–1540) celebrated the Celts for testing the character of their newborn in the Rhine. A father only acknowledged the child as his own after that ritual immersion.79 Irenicus and Wynman applied a liberally nationalist hermeneutic to the classical texts. Roman authors emphasized that the Germans were thrashed by imperial legions and driven in desperation to swim a river. Many drowned under a hail of Roman missiles. Wynman judged the Germans superior to other races for their manliness, courage, and self-control, for their learning of all the liberal and mechanical arts, and for their mastery of swimming. That explains why, in 1937, Nazi propagandists published a new edition of Wynman’s dialogue.80 3.5 Free-Diving Wynman also treated the subject of free-diving. The humanist Wynman introduced the subject by enumerating the feats accomplished by ancient swimmer-divers. Erotes mentioned to Pampirus that he had read in Lucan of an unnamed Phocaean (Massilian) diver, an astonishing specialist in the art of 77

Filippo Beroaldo the Elder (1453–1505) edited a treatise on the day of birth and the calendar written by the third century grammarian Censorinus. See, e.g., Gilmore. 78 Wynman, 1889, 117–19. Wynman’s sources include: Pompon. Mela 3.27; Hdn. 7.2.5–6, 8.4.3; Tac. Hist. 5.14, Ann. 2.8 (“Batavique … insultant aquis”); Plut. Vit. Mar. 11 (Cimbri); Caes. BGall. 6.21; and Amm. Marc. 17.1.6. 79 Wynman, 1889, 119–20. Wynman cited Anth. Pal. 9.125 (Greek Anthology, 1915, 3:64–67). On Giovanni Battista Pio and the autograph copy of his translation of the Anthologia Planudea conserved in Bibl. Apostolica Vaticana, MS Vat. lat. 2851, see Conti. 80 Weinmann, 1937; and Reichardt. See, e.g., Sprawson, 197, 218–20.

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swimming (natandi artifice admirabili). Pampirus wondered if the Phocaean had not undergone a metamorphosis like Aesacus and become a diving bird. He could submerge at will and return to the surface to exploit his abilities as a swimmer. Some modern translators interpret Lucan to mean a Massilian diver named Phocaeus, who was trained to dive and search the bottom with his sharp eyes. He employed those skills to free fouled anchors. He also would pull to their death enemy rowers and marines cast into the water during battle. Phocaeus nevertheless became a victim of his own abilities. After drowning one Roman combatant, he shot up rapidly, crashed into a vessel’s keel, and split his skull.81 Wynman drew theoretical principles for free-diving from the Geniales dies of Alessandro D’Alessandro (1461–1523), published at Rome in 1522.82 Both scholars followed Manilius, who claimed that those born under the sign of Pisces will love the sea and commit their lives to the deep. For Wynman, they were born swimmers. To the astrology, Wynman conjoined the teaching of natural philosophers who argued that those best endowed for swimming had as small a spleen as possible or no spleen at all. He was adapting a principle found in Pliny, who claimed that ancient runners shrank their spleens to improve their performance. For free-divers, the scientists and physicians of Wynman’s day had things backwards. Greater spleen and lung volume add to a diver’s ability to store oxygen and perform better while holding his breath.83 To prove that an individual born under Pisces with a small spleen made an expert swimmer-diver, Wynman supplied annotated examples from D’Alessandro. The first was Skylliēs of Skione, whom he rated the supreme ancient diver (urinator maximus). In defense of that superiority, Wynman noted the claim that Skylliēs had covered 80 stadia (14.8 km) during a single, subsurface swim. The second was Cola Pesce, who outdid his ancient predecessor by swimming 500 stadia (92.5 km) in stormy seas. Still, when Cola participated in a competition to retrieve a golden cup from the sea bottom, he relied excessively on his mastery of free-diving and ended up drowning in an underwater cave. For Wynman, overconfidence in any human ability was perilous. 81

Wynman, 1889, 94–95, citing Lucan 3.696–704; and Ov. Met. 11.749–95. Wynman also introduced “Calapiscus” from Apulia, whose legend should not be easily dismissed because Raffaele Maffei took elements of it seriously. Wynman used Maffei Commentarii Urbani 6 (Commentariorum urbanorum octo et triginta libri, 1506, fols. 77v, 93). Maffei’s text is also excerpted in Pitrè, 124. 82 D’Alessandro Geniales dies 2.21 (Geniales dies, 1522, fols. 69–69). 83 Manilius 4.273–76 (cited later as well); and Plin. HN 11.205. Wynman also referred to Plin. HN 2.181; and Diod. Sic. 14.11.5. See, e.g, Schagatay, Richardson, and Lodin-Sundström, http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3376424.

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The dialogue partners exchanged what they had learned about rumored improvements in diving equipment. Erotes heard that a diver descended in a glass (vitrum). The object was said to be capacious, allowing a diver to exhale his breath from nose and mouth and stay underwater for long periods. Erotes added that the glass was bound tightly to the circuit of the diver’s face ( faciei circum pressim alligatum). That makes the object seem a glass helmet rather than the legendary glass container large enough to accommodate Alexander the Great. Pampirus admitted that he had heard the same rumor but stressed the enormous danger if the glass cracked. Erotes wondered if a diving bell might grant a wider margin of safety but felt that the bell will always try to float back up to the surface. Pampirus countered that a sounding lead or stone carried a diver more quickly to the bottom. He could leave the weight on the bottom when he surfaced. Pampirus introduced the story of a tricky tailor from Tübingen who liked to free-dive in the Neckar River. The tailor had the requisite skills: he was a proficient swimmer and prodigious breath-holder. He employed them to have his pick of the fish and developed ways to bring back his catch. He would put one fish in his mouth, at least two in his hands, smaller ones between his toes, and a few more under his arms. He even had hair long enough to wrap the prize fish in it. The Tübingen tailor starred in his own fish tale. Erotes wondered whether the tailor could swim while loaded down with so many fish. Like a crane who gets a running start before taking flight, the diving tailor propelled himself up by using the Hungarian jump, bending his knees and keeping his feet together. At the surface, he rearranged the fish in his hands so that he could use them as paddles. He turned what would normally be an awkward situation to his advantage. Eventually, the tailor’s skills came back to haunt him. Local fishermen, frustrated by his ability to reduce their catch, attacked him with clubs, arrows, and “beautiful stones,” like those used to build the Temple in Jerusalem (Luke 21:5). The tailor thereafter emerged at a spot they did not expect, but that still was not enough. In the words of a pair of ancient proverbs, the Tübingen tailor ended up more destitute than the Ithacan beggar Irus and more naked than a snake who has shed his skin.84 Erotes proposed that such a masterful swimmer-diver (colymbetes) like the tailor teach youth the art at public expense. Pampirus replied that the tailor knew that civic laws prevented him from introducing others to the dangers that he had experienced diving: clinging seaweed, sunken obstructions, crunching waves, and spinning whirlpools.85 84 Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.1.26, 1.6.76 (Adages, 1982, 31:73–74; 1989, 32:51–52). 85 Wynman, 1889, 94–100.

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3.6 Erasmian Exempla and Spirituality As Wynman showed in utilizing Franciscus Irenicus and Alessandro D’Alessandro, he liked to compile from compilations. Proverbs about Irus, the snake, despised seaweed, and a fighting cock all came from Erasmus’s Adages. Wynman cited other adages as well. One from Strabo reminded sailors that “when you round Cape Malea, kiss your home goodbye.”86 To acknowledge that his comparison of treading water to crushing grapes lacked subtlety, he cited “with a stupid Minerva.”87 Wynman condemned the fraud perpetrated by Glaucus on ingenuous locals. Glaucus flaunted the skill he gained by practicing the swimmer’s art (artis natatoriae experientia). Wynman three times quoted the saying about a “Delian swimmer-diver.”88 He noted that, among Swiss boys and girls, one sees true Delian swimmers. He warned that even some Delian swimmers drown if they panic in the water. His final citation comprised part of a longer listing of ancient sources which proved the value that Greeks and Romans ascribed to swimming. Erasmus, by contrast, felt that kolymbētēs in the original context meant a free-diver, not simply a swimmer. Safeguarding life through the art of swimming related to a principal theme of the dialogue. No matter how good a swimmer you are, you should never be complacent in the water. The dialogue opened with Erotes admitting that he almost died in the Rhine River while washing off sand from a sudden storm. He survived because he called upon the aid of Christ, who again calmed the storm. Pampirus’s boyhood introduction to swimming at the baths near Sion had been harrowing. His swimming alone while the others ate lunch almost led to his drowning. He emerged from under the water a different person. A baptismal reference seems evident.89 Pampirus also admitted to Erotes that, over the course of his life, he had been reckless in many lakes and rivers. He tempted fate by misusing the art of swimming. His vainglory spurred his imprudent boldness, but the Lord who had once walked on water and calmed the storm graciously offered salvation.90 The young student complimented the master on surviving and becoming more self-critical as a result. The combination made for a good teacher. The dialogue portrayed swimming as an allegory for Christian faith. Faith saves when one detests his own presumption and acknowledges a need for divine grace. Those who trust their own ability and not God end up drowning. Those rescued from the waters owe their life 86 87 88 89 90

Strabo 8.6.20, in Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 2.4.46 (Adages, 1991, 33:214). Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.1.37 (Adages, 1982, 31:85–86). Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.6.29 (Adages, 1989, 32:24). Erasmus Adagiorum chiliades 1.1.26, 1.6.76 (Adages, 1982, 31:73–74; 1989, 32:51–52). Matt. 14:22–33 (walk); and Mark 4:35–41 parr. (storm).

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to God first and secondarily to knowing the art or receiving the assistance of a lifesaving swimmer. Wynman wrote the dialogue at the time of the Reformation controversies and took a stand on the crucial issue of justification. He did so in an Erasmian way. The two incidents at bridges over German rivers, the first at Regensburg and the second at Donauwörth, pay homage to the spirituality of salvation that Erasmus offered in his colloquy on shipwreck. While the others on board the sinking ship, clergy included, pull out all the superstitious stops, a young woman holding an infant maintains her composure by trusting in God. Her serenity amid chaos leads others on board to assist her by tying her to a plank. She is a bridge character to Wynman’s dialogue, where she reappears as the young woman whose infant child Pampirus was ready to rescue. Wynman abandoned disguise and acknowledged his dependence on Erasmus. After hearing of the near miss at Donauwörth, Erotes speculated that, if the cargo ship had sunk, the mothers with infants could swim because he had read in a colloquy of Erasmus about a woman with an infant son in her left hand who swam with virile strength of soul.91 The admiration carried over to the spiritual emphases of Erasmus. Though a lifelong Catholic, Erasmus granted the basic theological teaching of Luther and the reformers that salvation is the gracious gift of a generous God, but he wanted to carve out in that saving relationship a space for human freedom and responsibility. Wynman worked within the same soteriological framework and made swimming the metaphor for the space accorded human freedom. As the passenger barge crashed into the cutwater of the Steinerne Brücke, Pampirus remembered that he had trusted first and foremost in God and then in his mastery of the art of swimming. Divine protection was apparent when the cargo ship at Donauwörth ran aground not once or twice but three times, and, before it could break loose the third time, the horses towing a vessel upstream supplied the power to pull the grounded ship onto the bank. The Bible recorded multiple instances where trust in God and the art of swimming had led to salvation. He concluded the dialogue with an exhortation to swim in good hope that we will come back immediately washed clean. That will happen if, like the penitent woman in Luke, we swim in the river of our own tears, which testify to the conversion of a contrite soul.92 Erasmus might well applaud the commitment that the fictional Pampirus had made to education. Pampirus was a traditionalist; he cherished the opportunity to hand on to a younger generation what he had received from an older 91 92

Wynman, 1889, 74–75. Ibid., 112–13, referencing John 9:6–7 and Luke 7:36–50.

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one. He offered to work with Erotes on holidays, when both were free and could focus on swimming. The dynamic interaction between Pampirus and Erotes exemplified for Wynman his own relationship to university students. Pampirus welcomed the fact that Erotes questioned him, played along when Erotes used his nascent familiarity with the classical world to make a point, no matter how weak, and moved Erotes to master not only the physical techniques of swimming, the mechanical aspect of the art, but the ethical priorities of swimming, its liberal dimension. With Cicero and his Stoic teachers, Wynman wondered how something can be useful if it is not good.93 At its best, swimming saved lives.94 Pampirus underlined the danger of bravado, particularly for late adolescent students who used such posturing to cover a lingering sense of insecurity. A smattering of knowledge was merely a fragile membrane and dangerously thin at that. Those who felt utterly secure in the water were the first to turn to their last resort, the “sacred anchor.” Late in the sixteenth century, the abject ignorance of not knowing letters nor how to swim led a second university lecturer to write a treatise on the art of swimming and free-diving. 93 Cic. Off. 3.7.34, defending the Stoic philosopher Panaetius. 94 Wynman, 1889, 35.

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A Cambridge Don Tackles Swimming ithout doubt the art of swimming, which alone keeps life safe for one on the crest of the waves facing the greatest danger, admits to few or more exactly no originators, who graphically illustrated its prescribed method for the benefit of those in danger and in keeping with the dignity of the subject matter. Everard Digby De arte natandi 1.11

∵ In 1587, the Cambridge fellow Everard Digby highlighted the absence of an illustrated manual on the art of swimming and took it upon himself to fill the gap. He proposed to do for swimming what a series of founders had done for the arts from ancient times on. Digby first wondered why anyone might doubt that swimming was an art, if educators customarily called arts all the subordinate methods (inferiores rationes) that furnish to our body assistance or ease of movement or protection. Implicitly, the higher methods for Digby affect the soul. Digby numbered among the lesser arts medicine, agriculture, martial drilling, sailing, building, grammar, rhetoric, and mathematics. Although some of those arts were more distinguished than others, none of them can save a person who finds himself in extreme danger. But the art of swimming does just that. Despite that fact, critics for generations had devalued swimming. The other methods, even the lowest among them, are designated by the title of art and have their acknowledged discoverers. To underline the gravity of swimming’s oversight, Digby offered a lengthy list of arts, their originators, and even handbooks for their instruction. He stressed the progress in conceptualizing disciplines from ancient times to his own (See Table 2 in the Appendices). Although swimming had no discoverer,

1 Digby 1.1 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. B4v): “ars vero natandi, quae sola summis, summe periclitanti in aquis vitam conserva[n]t, paucos seu potius nullos agnoscit authores, qui artificium suum, ad utilitatem periclitantium, & secundum rei dignitatem graphice depinxerunt.” (my translation).

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Digby took heart from Cicero’s observation on ethics in the De officiis.2 Moral goodness by its very nature deserved praise even if no one did so. The art of swimming by its nature likewise deserved praise, even if no one had articulated its methods. Swimming is an honorable art because it provides ready defense for human life in the worst perils. If someone who has not mastered the art puts his trust in an experienced guide, that person will learn to swim well.3 The stage was set for Digby to act as that guide, once again using a dialogue between an experienced swimmer named Geronicus and his eager pupil Neugenes, literally of recent birth. Digby seemed unaware of the dialogue that Wynman wrote to explain the elements of swimming. In England, the usefulness of swimming came to the attention of the reading public thanks to a translation of Baldassare Castiglione’s Il Cortegiano by Thomas Hoby in 1561 as well as the original writings of Sir Thomas Elyot on The Governour (1531) and Richard Mulcaster on Positions (1560). Castiglione included swimming among the activities helpful for a courtier’s physical conditioning. By 1550 approximately thirty editions of his influential dialogue had been published, and almost sixty appeared before 1600. The work was translated into English, French, Spanish, Latin, German, and Polish. Peter Burke quoted the first English translator, Thomas Hoby, as observing that “this Courtier hath long strayed about this realm.”4 Hoby began to plan that translation in the 1550s and, in preparation, consulted a circle of Protestant scholars at Cambridge. His version of the Courtier appeared in 1561 and was reprinted on three occasions. Humanist scholar and ambassador to Emperor Charles V, Thomas Elyot used his knowledge of ancient politics to craft his Boke Named the Governour. His humanist education shaped his discussion of swimming as an exercise proper for youth. Elyot utilized examples of ancient swimming and diving that Francesco Patrizi (1413–94) collected for a work on educating a king. Patrizi argued that the knowledge of swimming (scientia nandi) by no means should be neglected, even by princes. His classical illustrations included Caesar at Alexandria, the manual of Vegetius, the primitive Latins who accustomed their infants to frigid water, Horatius Cocles escaping, Cloelia fleeing, the combative Sertorius getting across the Rhône wounded, Scipio demonstrating how to swim in armor, Alexander lamenting that he could not swim, “Scaevola” swimming at night with breastplates and shield to Caesar, and the Roman soldiers 2 Cic. Off. 1.4.14. 3 The maxim “it is necessary for the one learning to believe” was attributed to Aristotle. Cf. Arist. Eth. Nic. 6.5–7 (Nicomachean Ethics, 1926, 349–51). 4 Burke, 19–80, 139–57 (quote from Hoby on 60).

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in the First Punic War pushing Carthaginian ships back into harbor. All underlined the importance of the mastery of swimming (peritia nandi). And mastery required practice (usus nandi).5 Like Olaus Magnus, Elyot drank deeply at the well of Francesco Patrizi. Swimming supplied the highest percentage and longest citations from ancient sources in his chapter on physical exercises.6 Some of the exercises he recommended were chivalric (fencing / hawking), others were classical (wrestling / running / swimming). Elyot acknowledged that swimming had gone out of fashion in England, particularly among the nobility. Although all recognized that swimming could prove valuable in wartime, the English shied away from the art because it put one’s life at greater risk. Elyot’s antidote for contemporary diffidence about swimming was humanist. If the ancients valued swimming and he established the point, his English contemporaries would again embrace the art. He drew his Roman illustrations from Patrizi, including a Sertorius swimming the Rhône in a light coat of armor (gesseron). The premiere negative example made the point too. When Alexander the Great battled King Porus in India, he bemoaned his inability to swim. Alexander rallied his fearful troops by using a shield to cross the Hydaspes River. In Elyot’s version, Alexander stood on his shield and surfed over.7 Educated at Cambridge and Oxford, Richard Mulcaster became the first headmaster of Merchant Taylors’ School in London. Mulcaster’s book on Positions set down his own principles for a humanist education. Mulcaster tied the Hippocratic-Galenic theory of medicine to his advocacy of physical exercise. The intermediary for that tie was Girolamo Mercuriale, although Mulcaster did not give Mercuriale appropriate credit in his chapter on swimming. Mulcaster did little more than rehash Mercuriale on the relationship between the choice of aquatic environment and its effects on swimming. The headmaster opened his treatment of swimming with the ancient proverb that one should learn to swim when learning grammar. He plugged the worth of his London school. Mulcaster also devoted a chapter to proper training in holding one’s breath, but he did not tie the skill to free-diving. To avoid danger when training in breath retention, Mulcaster counseled the practitioner to begin

5 Patrizi De regno 3.4 (Enneas De regno, 1531, 105–07). For Caesar’s swim Patrizi followed Suet. Iul. 64. See, e.g., Quintiliani. 6 See, e.g., Elyot, 1880, 1:lxv–lxvi, lxix, 328–32. 7 Elyot Governour 1.17 (The Boke Named the Governour, 1992, 75–80). Plut. Vit. Alex. 58 (near Nysa, willing to wade across carrying his shield). See, e.g., Orme, 52–62; Rude, “Introduction,” lviii–lix; and Burke, 81–98.

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slowly and build up resistance by degrees. One should never push nature to the extreme.8 1

Digby’s Dedication to Richard Wortley

Everard Digby dedicated his treatise on the art of swimming to Richard Wortley (Wourtley), a former pensioner at St. John’s College, Cambridge, and a student of Digby’s while there. For pugnacity, the two seem well-matched.9 In 1583 Wortley inherited the family estates, rebuilt the residence, and enlarged his personal deer park. He seemed intent on gobbling up his neighbors’ holdings. So relentless were his exactions, evictions, and depredations that he may be one of the heads of his family satirized in a poem entitled The Dragon of Wantley. It described a rapacious dragon emerging from its lair to consume children, cattle, forests, houses, monks, and churches.10 Everard Digby had his own fair share of polemics. In philosophy, theology, and university politics, Digby engaged in a battle of wits to defend his theories. He caused controversy for his humanist interests, his attack on the reductive logical methods of Peter Ramus, and even his willingness to take students fishing on Sundays. In 1588 he was expelled from his position as Lady Margaret Fellow at Cambridge after William Whitaker, a theologian of Puritan leanings, became Master of St. John’s. On appeal, Digby had his expulsion overturned and then left St. John’s of his own accord. Swimming was another controversial subject that the combative Digby tackled. In 1571, given the hazards, Cambridge had banned students from swimming in any river, pond, or reservoir. Passionate about swimming, Digby continued to swim locally for eighteen years. As age caught up, he stopped, but he would not cease to advocate for the art.11 From the opening line of the dedicatory letter to Wortley, Digby made clear his consciously Renaissance purpose. He picked up his quill to rescue the art of swimming from the dustbin of ignorant neglect. He was also conscious that he would likely face the opprobrium of his fellow Cambridge dons for turning from his usual concerns with heavenly wisdom to the purportedly childish trifles of a book extolling the art of swimming. He abandoned the academy’s ivory tower, the lofty rock of Virgil’s Sicilian Muses; he made common cause 8

Mulcaster, 1888, 47–49, 68–71 (citing Mercuriale 3.6), 94–96. For Milon of Croton’s training methods, Paus. 6(Elis).14.7. 9 See, e.g., West, 16–22; Orme, 71–88; and Binns, 212–13. 10 See, e.g., Jewitt; Jones, 12–13; and Hey, 54–56. 11 Digby Ep. dedic. (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. A3v), cited by Binns, 516n202. See, e.g., Gilbert, 200–06, 229–31; Lake, 169–89; and Hutton.

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with Virgil’s comic Muse Thalia in the lowly waters of clear streams.12 Digby’s concise rules intended to spawn a rebirth of the art.13 Digby introduced two key premises for his subsequent instructions. Swimming had universal value for saving lives, and he had the experience in the art that one can trust. The art of swimming protected persons of all ages, all walks of life, and every social class.14 Statistical evidence gathered from coroners’ records for the county of Sussex from 1485 to 1688 suggests that Digby had a point. Of the eighty-five children up to the age of fourteen who died from unintentional injury, over half (53%) drowned in water pits, ditches, ponds, and rivers. Drowning was by far the greatest cause of their death. By the end of the twentieth century, that number was reduced to 6% because children learned to swim and public water systems improved.15 Digby divided his treatise into two major subjects. First, he would teach the fundamentals of swimming: how to swim on the stomach and back as well as how to dive under the water. Like Wynman, Digby classified free-diving as a subsidiary skill of swimming. Second, for those wanting more, he would share guidance on agile movements in the water (See Table 3 in the Appendices). A graduate of Digby’s school of swimming had protection from worry in deep waters. His art narrowed expansive rivers and tamed billowing seas. It gave essential assistance in water if one wished to have fun alone, compete with another, attack wild beasts, flee poisonous snakes, or save oneself when a boat sank or a horse fell. His censors convicted themselves of a serious breach of integrity because none of them knew how to swim. And when they decried the teaching of the art, they put themselves squarely in opposition to the ancients. The ancients burnished Digby’s credentials. In the dedicatory letter alone, he cited Virgil (Aeneid, Eclogues), Ausonius, Horace (Epistolae, Ars poetica), Ovid (Metamorphoses), and Cicero (De officiis). His frequent citation of the ancients and imitation of their poetic style has bedeviled readers of his baroque Latin ever since.16 2

Why: Digby’s Rationale for Swimming as an Art

Using a nautical metaphor to open the dialogue, Digby had Geronicus change tack. Customarily, Geronicus took his morning hike in the mountains, but that 12 13 14 15 16

Digby Ep. dedic. (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. A2v), referencing Verg. Ecl. 1.56, 4.1, 6.2. Digby Ep. dedic. (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. A3), citing Auson. Grat. act. 4. Digby Ep. dedic. (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. A4), citing Hor. Epist. 1.1.25–26. Towner and Towner. Digby Ep. dedic. (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. A2–B1). The references include: Verg. Ecl. 1.56, 4.1, 6.2, 8.10, Aen. 11.283; Auson. Grat. act. 4; Hor. Ars P. 343, Epist. 1.1.25–26; Cic. Off. 1.113; Ov. Met. 2.846–47.

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day he went down into the river valley.17 The change in course led to a meeting with Neugenes along the riverbank, but the meeting was not entirely fortuitous. Geronicus had often seen Neugenes at the spot where their paths crossed that morning. Neugenes stood transfixed by the river. Geronicus assumed that either Neugenes longed to go for a swim or he was tormented by melancholy. Neugenes confessed to both. He did want to swim and had started to do so but stopped to protect his life. Having to refrain triggered his dejection. If fish, snakes, sheep, cattle, horses, and asses needed to swim across a river, they did so. But hapless Neugenes could not even try to swim across a tiny stream. Neugenes inferred that human beings were the only creature that does not swim by nature. Geronicus challenged the deduction on two counts. First, humans had more useful endowments than other creatures. A significant percentage of those gifts were divine. Second, though many assume that humans do not swim by nature, they are mistaken. When humans first enter the water, they seem rather inept, but they are ultimately more comfortable swimming than other creatures. The indeterminacy of our nature, our not having food or clothing ordained, means that other objects can serve our needs. Digby offered a toned-down version of the quality which Giovanni Pico della Mirandola had celebrated in his oration on human dignity.18 Moreover, we are the only creature to stand erect; all others face downwards while we look up. That erectness partially explains why we struggle initially in the water. Staying upright in water causes us to sink. But those who drown have themselves to blame, not nature. Once in the water and trained in the art, we acquire an ease of movement no other creature has. In our variety of swimming activities, we are like nightingales who can master the calls of thousands of other birds.19 Neugenes was still bothered about the seeming ease with which animals swim and pressed Geronicus for further explanation. Geronicus noted the impossibility of treating every animal individually and addressed the question synthetically. He cast nature as a kind parent who endowed each offspring with its own reliable means of defense. The best clues to a creature’s ability to swim were the dominant classic elements in its makeup and the place where it naturally resided. If the dominant element was fleshy or heavy (earth), then that creature does not swim well. If nature led a creature to live in an environment

17 Digby 1.1 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. B3), citing Ter. Hec. 608. 18 Pico della Mirandola, 1948, 223–27. 19 Digby 1.1 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. B3v–B4), referencing Claud. De raptu Proserpinae 3.41–42, Ov. Met. 1.85–86, and Ps. Ov. Philomela 2–4 (La Philomèle, 1829, 17).

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like a cave, that creature could not swim or could do so only by expending a great deal of energy. The dialogue turned from animals to humans. It was still troubling to Neugenes that so many people got into trouble in the water and ended up sinking to the bottom. To explain, Geronicus returned to our standing upright. He used the analogy of an arrow to illustrate his point. An iron-tipped arrow launched into water has the heavier end drag it down. If you remove the iron tip, the arrow will float. Likewise, humans who are erect in the water have the heavier end of their body dragging them under. But any person thrown into water who instinctively or intentionally extends his body will float. Digby used the practice (usus) of swimming to demonstrate how compatible the art is with human nature. To master the art, you must begin by learning to float face up or face down and allow the water to support you. Floating is the solution to our normally erect posture. Floating on our backs shielded us from danger in the water, gave us an ability no quadruped had, and allowed us to gaze toward heaven.20 Digby argued that the dynamics of most drownings confirmed that humans have a natural ability to swim. Those who drown abandon proper technique and resort to panicked flailing. It takes effort for humans to swim improperly. Even one who has never learned to swim and one who has yet to master the art cannot stay under. They will resurface two or three times, while doing their best not to.21 Geronicus went so far as to claim that humans surpass other animals in their ability to swim. Animals rely only on nature while humans combine nature and the art. Geronicus conceded that, in terms of their respective natures, fish excel humans because they can live in water and do not have to breathe air. We die without sufficient oxygen. But to reach a valid conclusion, one had to factor in the contribution of art. Once we do, we recognize that we have a unique skill set in water that allows us to dive perpendicularly from the surface to the bottom, search for and grab objects lost in water or tossed in for retrieval, and bring all of them to the surface. Free-diving while suspending respiration was Digby’s first proof for our superiority. He also added our capacity to assume various positions in the water (on the back, bending forward, on either side, standing, sitting, lying flat), perform various tasks in the water (transport clothing across a river and back), and even walk in deep waters when someone had the urge to do so.22 20 Digby 1.4 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. C1v), citing Verg. Ecl. 2.65. 21 Digby 1.7 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. C2v–C3), citing Ter. Ad. 739 (adjust with art to roll of dice). 22 Digby 1.1–8 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. B3–C3v).

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When and Where

Geronicus instructed his pupil to ascertain important information before entering the water.23 Neugenes should first be aware of the appropriate time of year for swimming in England. Though you might be forced to swim at any time, choose to swim during the months from May to August. Within each month, further considerations were necessary. Avoid any day with a significant gap between air and water temperatures. Do not swim at night. Geronicus raised the level of prohibition for night swimming to the legal formula for excluding a guilty person from the public life of ancient Rome: “I forbid water and fire to you.” Those who swam at night risked injury or catastrophe. Injuries resulted from the thick mist rising from the water, the frothy surface, the frogs and snakes and eels that wash themselves at night, and the soaking chill of the night air bound to cause a headache later on. The potential catastrophes included walking through the shadows of death and colliding with unseen obstacles (stakes, stones, branches, poisonous weeds). Once you go under, no one sees or hears you or even knows you were there. Your clothes on the riverbank become mute testimony to your demise. Searchers who find the clothing will share in the experience of Aeneas who described his chilled blood freezing with terror.24 In the recommended months, swimmers should avoid days when the water was significantly colder or the air harsher. The phases of the moon and astrological tables could assist. Swimmers should also consider the direction and strength of the winds. If you were seeking temperate waters, be especially careful to avoid the storms of Eurus (East Southeast) and the frigid drafts of Boreas (North). The friendly winds for English swimmers were Auster (South) and Zephyr (West). A storm, even with gentle winds, should abort all swimming. As it broke, the air changed from hot and humid to crisp and chilling. A soaking that arrived from multiple directions disturbed the eyes and irritated the entire body. Upon exiting, the chilled swimmer will find the ground, the grass, the branches, and his clothing dripping wet. Prior to swimming consider the character of the riverbank and the water itself. When choosing an appropriate bank, avoid those composed of sand, mud, or clay because they cling to your feet as you exit. One should also avoid banks overgrown with rough grass of the sort that shelters toads, frogs, and worms. Choose the banks that are dry, solid, and lush like Ovid’s grassy meadow 23 Digby 1.8 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. C3v), citing Verg. Ecl. 3.93. 24 Digby 1.11 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. D1), alluding to Ps. 22(23):4 and citing Verg. Aen. 3.30 (Aeneid, 1916, 374–75).

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shielded by the branches of leafy trees.25 Carefully survey the waters. The surface should be transparent and free of all refuse, grass, and foam. Peer down to see if the bottom is murky from dyes or mud or dirt washed from bleating sheep. Avoid murky waters. Check the composition of a clean bottom. Assure that you know its overall depth and variance. A muddy bottom threatened the safety of inexperienced and experienced swimmer alike. Never jump into such a river because you risk burying your feet in the mud. Once trapped, the more you struggle to free yourself, the worse your predicament. Digby argued that the best remedy for any crisis was to take appropriate precautions. Master Geronicus preferred to teach young people how to avoid trouble, not how to extricate themselves from it. The riverbeds most suitable for swimming were sandy, consistent in depth, and carpeted with smooth stones. When Neugenes objected that such bottoms are rarely found, Geronicus countered with Cicero’s recommendation that it was not disgraceful for one striving to be first to settle for second or third.26 Before entering, the swimmer had to know the water’s depth. A new swimmer should leave the surveying to his guide, who will walk around the swimming hole and reveal its depth as he goes. If you have some experience swimming, your tutor is sick, and you prefer to swim when no one is watching, use a fishing rod with a weighted line to sound the depth. Digby confessed his reservations about that scenario. You should never enter a stream until you have mastered the art (perite natare poteris). Even then, you should seldom do so if your instructor or a reliable companion is not present.27 4

How: Entries, Strokes, and Rotation

Geronicus urged the novice swimmer to be alert to his body temperature before stripping off clothes and getting in. If he was sweating or had recently been doing so, he must cool down first. An inexperienced swimmer should enter the water in calibrated steps, while an experienced swimmer had various options. The inexperienced often succumbed to youthful recklessness. Geronicus had seen them jump in feet first. They risked serious injury if they crashed into the bottom. Walk into the water slowly until it reaches chest level and then lean forward while stretching out the body and hands. Experienced swimmers enjoyed several options. They could put one or both hands behind their head, 25 Digby 1.15 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. D3), citing Ov. Am. 3.5.5 (Amores, 1914, 462–63). 26 Digby 1.16 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. D3v), citing Cic. Orat. 1.4 (Orator, 1939, 308–09). 27 Digby 1.9–16 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. C3v–D3v).

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run toward the water’s edge, and do a front roll. They could run down to the water and fall in on their right or left side. And skilled leapers could run to the edge, jump up, and land on the water seated with their legs extended forward and pressed together. In that position, the buttocks and backs of the legs absorbed the impact.28 Neugenes followed Geronicus into the river to begin the lessons.29 With the aid of illustrations, Digby offered prescriptions for various swim strokes and water gymnastics. The woodcuts are ingenious. The framing scenes remained constant, all five set along an imaginary river. The central portion of each scene had a changeable block used to depict the swimmer at a crucial moment in executing the prescribed maneuver. The verbal descriptions continue the dialogue between Neugenes, who asks for advice, and Geronicus, who supplies it. They exemplify the difficulty of describing a motor skill in words. Digby’s first method of swimming was a modified breaststroke. In beginning to swim, Geronicus emphasized deliberate pacing: lie down slowly in a slowmoving river. Keep your stomach down, your face up, your head and neck out of the water, and your back curved for the length of your chest. Lift your legs up off the bottom and stretch them out, then extend your hands in front to the full length of your arms, spread them apart, and draw them back to your chest. Alternate the leg and arm motions to propel yourself forward. On day one, every learner is ready to bid the water a fond adieu. To counteract inevitable frustration, the instructor should supply a means of support. Some beginners have their chin lifted by the hand of another, some lie with their chest on a mat of withe and rush, and others lie on inflated bladders. Geronicus personally rated the inflated bladders the simplest and best means of support. As Neugenes grew comfortable swimming on his stomach, he asked how one could roll from the stomach onto his back. Geronicus remarked that most people favored one side over the other. He cited the palm readers who claim that the right buttock showed partiality to the night while the left favored the day.30 Depending on which side one favored, the swimmer at the top of his arm stroke should push the stronger hand downward at a wide angle and use the weaker hand to draw water toward the body. Those techniques roll the body from stomach to back. Geronicus offered instructions for floating on the back and propelling oneself in that position with the legs. To practice floating in a face-up position, one 28 Digby 2.Proem (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. E1), citing Cic. Tusc. 5.13. 29 Digby 1.7–2.1 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. D4–E4). 30 Digby 2.3 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. F1): “Noctu natis (ut docent χειρμάντικοι) dextera favet, die vero sinistra.”

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should walk into the river and then lean back toward the water in a controlled fall. Keep the gaze upwards. While relaxing, swell out the chest and keep the entire body aligned from head to toe. To propel the body in that position, stretch out your legs and pull them together to your sides. Do not allow them to go more than a couple of feet below the surface. Because you are naked on your back, cover the genitals with your hands. Digby utilized questions by Neugenes to refine the basics of the stroke. Is the head almost totally submerged? The water does hide much of the head. Is this really an altogether safe way to swim? It is because you can swim easily on your back for a long time and you take in less water than you do swimming on your stomach. The head is positioned to break the force of an arriving wave and split it in two. The stroke works well in a river filled with noxious weeds. When beginners encountered weeds while swimming on their back, it was a common but hazardous instinct to stop and try to stand up.31 It was preferable to turn around or circle back to avoid the weeds. Geronicus therefore took up methods to reverse your direction or rotate your body (conversiones). 5

How: Methods of Turning Around

Geronicus first described the turning made easy (Tropica expedita). It involved an immediate change of direction requiring a quick flip. The speed of the maneuver gave it its value in sudden danger such as when ships come directly at you or wild beasts confront you suddenly in the water. He described a bell turn in the water (Conversio campanilis) modeled on pendular motion. You not only reverse direction but also the stroke you use to swim. The bell turn served a swimmer in a narrow stream. It prevented him from slamming his feet into the bank. One had to assure that the stream was deep enough for a downward thrust of the legs and free of clinging grasses or mud. He compared the spinning around maneuver (Circumvolutio) to a globe moving left or right on its axis and going up or down as well. Spinning around helped a swimmer see what lies ahead and avoid clumps of straw or refuse from wells. The noise caused by striking the water will scare away a swarm of gnats. If the perils floating or flying around the swimmer nullified a spin, the swimmer should then use the fourfold turning (Cubatus versatilis), a maneuver that began from a resting position rather than a swimming stroke. Begin lying face up with the body extended, elbows at the sides, upper arms away from the body, legs a foot apart, and soles of the feet pointing down. Lift the right side 31 Digby 2.2–“6” (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. E4–F3).

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and then the left. A fourfold turning remedied the dangers that might occur while swimming on the back such as wandering into a pile of reeds or colliding with the riverbank. If you finished in the weeds, there was another way to turn called a circling (Circulasio). While the head remained fixed in the center, the movement of the legs wheeled the body around. It was like drawing a circle on land by keeping one foot immobile and sweeping the other around it. Because the movement generated centrifugal force, it had value if the surface was covered in foaming rot or clumps of old straw or other sticky garbage. Geronicus warned Neugenes that, when practicing, he should not lift the legs too high in the air and cause his head to submerge. His last method was known as the upright turning around (Conversio perpendicularis). One rotated while erect in the water and was presented a view of bystanders in every direction. You can raise your head above Virgil’s vast abyss and pick out the nearest exit point or the safest one on a shore in enemy hands. If you are fighting in hostile territory and the enemy unleashes a barrage of missiles, you can spot their launch point and dodge them. If you end up in combat in the water with man or beast, you can brawl in an upright position. Today, one would add skill in water polo and synchronized swimming.32 6

How: Fun Things to Do (Festivitates)

6.1 On the Stomach or Side Mastering ways to roll from front to back and change direction in the water made further athletic movements possible. Digby seemed as fascinated by the agility of the human body in the water as by its ability to move on the water. Over half of Digby’s chapters deal with acrobatic maneuvers. They were fun in themselves and could help keep one alive. The first was swimming with palms pressed together (Pronatare palmis coniunctis). The movement was related to the breaststroke but does not seem especially hydrodynamic. Join the palms together, draw both wrists into the chest, and extend the arms forward until the fingers break the surface. The arm movement lets you burrow through piles of straw in your path and make your way out of a spot in the river overgrown with weeds. The next was swimming neither on the stomach nor on the back (Natare neque ventro neque dorso), leaving the sides. The propulsion during the stroke came from the movement of the upper arm. Sidestroke assisted one swimming across a river by allowing him to see what lay ahead, proceed in a straight line, and rest one arm and leg going and coming. There was a way to 32 Digby 2.5–9 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. F3–G2, H1–4).

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swim on the stomach while resting both hands (Ventre natare utraque manu quiescente). Geronicus rated the stroke easy to do because you continue to propel yourself with the legs, as in the normal breaststroke, while resting your hands on your back. Body position was crucial: one had to stretch the chest forward and raise the neck out of the water. The ability to swim in that position relieved a cramp or gave one the chance to survive if forced into the water with hands shackled behind his back. Digby offered two more maneuvers while swimming on your stomach. You could swim and carry your left foot in your right hand (Pedem sinistrum manu dextra transportare). The final position resembles a Hatha Yoga Half-Bow posture but with the limbs crossed. The maneuver also eased cramping, and it allowed one to use his hand to release a foot caught in the weeds. If you ended up in especially thick weeds, you should utilize swimming in the manner of a dog (Canis instar natare). For Digby, the stroke should not be difficult to master because it is so instinctive. You pull water towards your body with each hand in succession and push it alternately away with each foot. Because the stroke lifts the body, one can safely pass through even a forest of harmful weeds.33 6.2 On the Back The five amusements performed swimming on the stomach pale before the fun one can have swimming on the back. Geronicus began with a maneuver that was as graceful as it was exciting, drumming the waters with alternating legs (Aquarum percussio). To maintain buoyancy while a leg is out of the water, one should swell the chest and press the palms downward. The drumming continued in the next maneuver, but this time was fourfold (Percussio quadripartita). Each of the two hands and feet strike the water in multiples of ten: the right foot ten times, the right hand twenty, the left foot thirty, and left hand forty. Use the loud drumming to drive off gnats that have gathered to bite your face. When a swimmer wished to go faster on the back, he could use both hands and feet (Manibus pedibusque supine natare). The overall technique sounds like the modern elementary backstroke. Digby’s description of the arm movement, split into parts, illustrates the complexity of reducing such instruction to words. William Percey’s 1658 translation reads: “… first they cast their hands backward behind their head, and whilst they are extended or stretched forth, the palms of the hands being opened toward their ears at their extension when they are stretched forth, but at the extremitie or later end of this extension, their hands being turned outwards, opening the arms in the same manner, 33 Digby 2.10–14 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. H4–K1). On Sig. K1, emend “exedimus” to “excedimus”.

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and withdrawing them again….”34 The rotation out, around, down, and in does come through faintly. Geronicus recommended using the stroke in fast-moving waves. The next maneuver, going in reverse (Retrogradatio), was the mirror opposite, moving the body in a line with heels leading the way and head bringing up the rear. Because the hands cover the genitals, the legs propel. Lift each one in succession out of the water and, as you bring it back down to contact the surface, pull it forcefully back toward the knee. When tired and bored in the sea, you can switch to this maneuver for support while resting. Digby had Geronicus admit that progressing feet first in a shallow river was a lot of fun. Should dangers arise, the acrobatics on the back were as useful as they were enjoyable. In fact, the maneuver Geronicus next described, playing with one foot (Unius pedis collusio), epitomized Horace’s mix of the useful with the delightful (utile dulci).35 The maneuver entailed lifting each leg out of the water in succession and circling the foot around three or four times. The delight came in performing an agile movement that was difficult and aesthetically pleasing. The use came in scattering noxious weeds that were attacking or annoying your feet. The next maneuver assisted if one was frightened by obstacles and tempted to quit in mid-course. You should then resort to showing your feet (Ostensio pedum). To display both simultaneously, arch your back downward and scull with your hands. By getting all the toes above the surface, you can check to make sure they are clean. Digby turned to acrobatic maneuvers focusing on the head while floating or swimming on the back. For Geronicus, the suspension of the chin (Menti suspensio) bested all the others. It involved the most noble part of the human anatomy, and it provided a reliable margin of safety by assuring that, without moving, we stand erect and do not sink.36 Shift into the dignified position by letting your feet sink gradually toward the bottom until you are nearly perpendicular in the water. You have to draw the feet together toward the knees and swell out the chest. As the hands scull back and forth, arch the back and raise the chin as far toward the heavens as possible. If you are crossing a frozen body of water and the ice breaks, this is your only hope for survival. If you are forced by a pursuing enemy to cross a river at night and your enemy sends out a boatload of warriors to kill you, you can hang quietly as they row past. Digby followed the chin suspension with a description of full-fledged treading in the water (Pressio aquarum). The two shared an erect position, but treading did not mix in the hands. Remain upright and move by circling each leg around 34 Percey, 1658, 34–35. 35 Digby 2.20 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. K2), citing Hor. Ars P. 343. 36 Digby 2.22 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. K4), citing Ov. Met. 1.85–86 (for the third time).

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in the water while keeping the soles of the feet pointed down. The leg motion mirrored that used for breaststroke. As the kicking propelled one forward on the stomach, it propelled one upward when erect in the water. If one learned to tread water while leaving the hands free, he could see over the highest waves in turbulent seas to avoid a missile from a catapult or fire an arrow or parry a sword thrust. Geronicus advised caution when treading in environments where the feet might get stuck in the mud. Digby enumerated further acrobatics while on the back that did not relate to the dignity of our erect posture. There was discordant swimming on the back (Dorsi natatio contradictoria), comparable to the adversarial speeches of lawyers in a courtroom. Either the right hand grabs the left foot, or the left hand grabs the right foot underwater. Whichever leg is left free must be rapidly raised and lowered. Use the maneuver if weeds ensnare your legs. Geronicus labeled the next position entwined swimming (Natatio connexa), though a more precise name would be swimming cross-legged. Once the legs are crossed, they are raised up and pushed down as they are drawn together, moving the body forward until you reach the riverbank. The acrobatic maneuver approximated the lethal situation when, with hands and feet bound, someone was cast into a river from a prison or a boat’s stern. That was a common method in the sixteenth century to execute Anabaptists. In treating sliding forward (prolapsio), Geronicus distinguished the movement from normal swimming forward (pronatio). He admitted that in common parlance the terms and actions were often confused. Worms and eels were masters of the technique. Anchored by the “slimy stickiness” of the front part of their elongated bodies, they drew in the rear part to give impetus and slink ahead.37 Humans could use the undulating maneuver to slip out of a thick mass of weeds. While lying on your stomach this time, extend your arms and hands out in front of you, cup the palms and point them down, and the use them to catch the water and pull it toward you. Geronicus introduced drawn together sitting (Sessio contracta) by noting that those who have mastered the art of swimming can do so lying down, walking, standing, and now even sitting. The fundamental movement required the swimmer, in a contracted position, to have each hand take hold of a thigh. A more advanced variant had the swimmer grabbing the feet. The maneuver resolved problems when weeds snag both feet or bind both hands. It likewise served one cast into a deep well that was too narrow for swimming, too muddy for treading, and too shallow for suspending the chin. Those who have mastered contracted sitting will have an easier time mastering the paring of a toenail (Pedalium digitorem praeciso). Geronicus noted that 37 Digby 2.26 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. L4): “… per partium priorum limosam tenacitatem.”

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he had on more than one occasion tried and failed to press his lips to his big toe while lying in bed. Humans can do things in the water that they cannot do on land. While you hold the paring knife in your right hand, the text indicates that you should lift your left leg and draw it over the right knee. The illustration shows the right leg drawn over the left knee. Take hold of the left foot with the left hand to steady it before you commence paring. Kick the extended right leg to keep yourself afloat. In addition to cutting a toenail, you can clean out the foul-smelling spaces between the toes. The only acrobatic movement to earn a Greek name was TETRAPHANĒ, meaning four times conspicuous. It involved displaying four body parts simultaneously (head, elbows, one knee). You reveal the knee by bending one leg and crossing it over the opposite knee. By fixing the back of each hand to the sides at chest level, you bend both elbows upwards. To remain afloat, swell the chest and kick the unseen leg in compact up-and-down alternations. The raising of a leg (Tibiae erectio) differed from the showing of a foot because the swimmer had to use his other leg and hands to stay afloat. With the leg up, you could wedge people and objects between your big toes and transport each across the river. If there was a way to lift a leg out of the water, there was a way to raise the hands (Manuum erectio). Once free, the hands could wash off dirt or remove noxious weeds from head, arms, and legs. But it was extremely difficult to raise both arms straight above the body and continue swimming. When the arms are lifted, the chest contracts, and the body sinks. To counteract that dangerous tendency, do not let the chest contract but push it out as you raise the arms. If you do everything according to the art, you can transport an outer garment (toga), a money-purse, or anything else across the river. When Geronicus introduced the donning of greaves (Ocrearum impositio), Neugenes was flabbergasted that one could swim in greaves, much less don them in the water. Geronicus clarified that he was speaking metaphorically. You can swim in the water wearing a greave, but you cannot don greaves in the water, and it is generally not necessary to do so. He was describing an action in water that was comparable to donning greaves on land. Lift one leg up and grab it with both hands while you kick with the other leg. Then reverse the process since you are donning both greaves. If you master the movement, you can wash your legs or rid them of harmful weeds. The list of acrobatic water gymnastics culminated with the leaping of a goat (Saltatio caprae) because the maneuver involved a double scissoring of the legs in mid-air. Geronicus summoned the image of capering during a circle dance. The movement required courage and flexibility. It engaged the soul and body. The secret was to attain height in the water before attempting the skipping kick. Do that by swelling out the chest, springing up and pressing down with the hands three or four times, and, on the

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last press, submerging them deeper into the water. Throw both legs out of the water and caper them in the air for all to see. Having climbed the metaphorical Everest of in-water gymnastics, you should seek to go no higher.38 7

Head-First Diving and Free-Diving (Urinatio)

Neugenes turned the dialogue to the subject of diving by inquiring whether the art of swimming applied underwater as well. Geronicus posited an integral tie between the general art of swimming and the specific skills of free-diving. He then proceeded to justify his claim by describing a head-first entry to get below the surface and skillful swimming once under water. Digby coined the Latin term urinatio to mean both the diving entry and swimming underwater. One had to submerge with proper technique in order to generate momentum and avoid injury. And submerging was more difficult than it first seemed. Everyone has seen swimmers struggling to get below the surface. They end up immersing only their face, while the back of their head and buttocks remain high and dry. For Digby, the difficulty of submerging proved yet again that humans are natural swimmers and drown only after a protracted struggle. Panic and fatigue are the causes. Those trained in the art descend all the way to the bottom when they need to do so. To perform a surface dive in the water, begin by standing erect with your feet pressing the sandy bottom. Jump up, draw your chin to the chest, and bend your torso down from the head. Keep the hands in front of the head with their backs pressed together. Point them toward the bottom. As you descend, a forceful spreading of the hands will assist your momentum. Once you have practiced surface diving in the water, you can attempt to dive from an elevated platform like a riverbank, a tree, a bridge, or a boat. For impetus, the diver launches himself up into the air. His flight mimicked an arrow that soars up until it reaches its apex and then turns down with accelerating momentum. The second method of head-first diving facilitates search operations in deep water. Without the benefit of a swift descent, you will not be able to reach the bottom and grope around for any length of time before you need to breathe. Because height increases the risk, you should rarely dive from an elevated platform. Geronicus now gave instructions on the art of swimming underwater (Subnatatio). You should decide beforehand whether you want to reach a shallow, an intermediate, or the deepest depth possible. Digby offered a fuzzy 38 Digby 2.15–33 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. G2–H1 bound out of order, K1–N4).

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explanation of using the hands as rudders and the thumbs and index fingers as fixed points of orientation. For example, to swim more deeply, you have the thumbs pointed toward the bottom, and you twist your palms outward while you extend them. The feet kick as they do when swimming on the stomach, but they push toward the surface rather than the bottom. Swimming at a controlled depth underwater had three benefits. You can use the technique to search for something on the bottom, move stealthily, and rescue someone lying on the bottom. Digby digressed to elaborate sound principles when attempting the inwater rescue of a distressed swimmer. First and foremost, you must take every precaution to prevent a distressed swimmer from grabbing hold of you. Never approach such a person carelessly, whether at the surface or under the water. Always approach cautiously. Follow Horace, who said that “you may advance to a certain point, even if you are not permitted to go farther.”39 As a norm, Geronicus told Neugenes to wait until the distressed swimmer was halfway to suffocating and his belligerence was flagging. Neugenes wondered how you spotted the halfway point. The norm was straightforward: halfway was reached as soon as the swimmer sank to the bottom. If you noticed where the person went under, keep a safe distance of twelve feet between yourself and that spot. If you submerge, always maintain due caution. At the surface, grab the distressed swimmer by the hair, face up if possible, and drag him into shallow water. Then lift him up onto the riverbank. Take immediate steps to remove the water’s chill by massaging the skin and covering the person with warm garments. If bystanders are available to assist you in the rescue and you have a rope, tie the rope around your waist, and give the other end to the bystanders. If the rope is long enough, they can remain on the bank. Otherwise, they will need to get in. At a prearranged signal, they use the rope to haul the distressed swimmer and you to shore. Geronicus returned to the swimmer underwater. He explained that there was an art to the ascent from the bottom as well, what he termed the diving reversal (Reversio urinaria). In fact, it was as easy to return from the bottom as it was to dive down to it. However, one first needed to master the maneuver he had designated the turning made easy (Tropica expedita). The hands moved in a pumping motion, one pushing away the water close by, and the other drawing in the water at a distance. Geronicus described the “summit and perfection” of free-diving, circular swimming underwater (Subnatatio circularis).40 39 Digby 2.36 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. O3), citing Hor. Epist. 1.1.32 (my translation). 40 Digby 2.37 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. O4): “Huius flos & perfectio vera adhuc explicanda restat.”

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Like adept hunting dogs, divers should be able to track an object. The best way to do so was to employ a circle search. To become proficient, a diver should practice retrieving objects thrown into the water. Use objects that were easy to spot. Geronicus offered as examples white stones, a coin, horns, or spurs. Three or four at a time made for a good drill. The adroit diver can retrieve all the objects in the order in which they were tossed in. To locate them, the diver needed to swim in a circle. In order to circle to the right, the free-diver used both hands to spin the water from right to left. To go to the left, he inverted the procedure. Unlike a straight-line course, where one could pass by the object, a circular search gave the free-diver better odds of finding it. Geronicus warned anyone swimming underwater not to proceed beyond the point where clear light illumines the way. Shadows indicate that you have propelled yourself under an overhanging bank, you have dived too deeply, or you have arrived under a boat or some other object on the surface. Do not try to enter a dark place. If you are in such a hurry that you do inadvertently cross from light to darkness, then turn in the opposite direction and go toward the light.41 The dialogue partners discussed the possibility of being trapped underwater with no way to breathe. Geronicus even had an ingenious remedy for that situation. The pair imagined a scenario where you were forced to dive underwater to avoid death-dealing weapons that an enemy hurled at you from the riverbank. Their presence forced you to remain under longer than you should. In such a crisis, you should mimic the fluid movement of a dolphin (Agilitas delphini). A dolphin-like swimmer ascended to the surface, breached it to draw in a quick breath, and descended again to safety. Enemies would have a very narrow window to take a shot. If the threat level dictated, you could swim like a dolphin for as much as half a mile (500 passus). Begin to practice by stroking on your stomach. As you propel yourself, submerge underwater. The deeper the place, the safer it is. Swim forward underwater for as long as you can hold your breath. When you must breathe, continue to advance and simultaneously ascend. As the clarity of light indicates that you are close to the surface, raise your head rapidly, draw in a quick breath, and then immerse yourself again. The woodcut illustration is one of the more original. A dotted line sketches the swimmer’s body to show that he is in the underwater portion of the maneuver.42

41 Digby 2.34–38 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. N4–P1). 42 Digby 2.39 (De arte natandi, 1587, Sig. P1–2, illustration on P1v).

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figure 12 Woodcut of swimmer partially underwater as he imitates a dolphin

8

Novelty and Survival

Everard Digby pushed the teaching of swimming from preoccupation with strokes into other areas. Digby enjoyed the buoyant agility of the human body in water and conceptualized a series of maneuvers to exploit that agility. He was attentive to potential dangers while swimming. Digby offered guidelines on safe places to swim, remedies for in-water problems, and judicious techniques for rescuing a distressed swimmer. His obsession with entangling weeds suggests that they were a serious problem in many English swimming holes. As testament to Digby’s impact, most treatises on swimming for the next century were acknowledged or unacknowledged translations of his work. For as comprehensive as Digby was in treating ways to swim and have fun in the water, he said nothing about the stroke known as front crawl. The stroke rarely appeared in ancient sources and had no secure reference in medieval sources. Much of that is explained by its complexity. Digby instructed the swimmer using breaststroke to keep his head and shoulders out of the water. Front crawl required the swimmer to immerse his face and then coordinate the arm movement with rotary breathing to the side. At least one visual source from the Renaissance does depict front crawl, a fresco in the Galerie of King Francis I at Fontainebleau that shows the centaur

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Chiron educating Achilles. The work formed part of a program of decoration for the Galerie executed by Rosso Fiorentino and a team of artists from 1534– 39. In antiquity Statius and Philostratus enumerated the skills that Chiron taught the future Greek hero. Neither one mentioned swimming.43 Rosso and his team chose to include swimming. Chiron was the upright elder preparing his ward for future greatness, a tutor like Pampirus in Wynman and Geronicus in Digby. The various scenes in the fresco show Chiron teaching Achilles to fight with the sword, hunt, fish, play the lyre, and swim. In the fishing scene, Achilles rode on the back of the centaur, doubling his learning by practicing equestrian skills as he speared fish. He mimicked the angle of the centaur’s spear when aiming his own, offering a visual tableau of expertise as embracing traditional wisdom. The swimming scene interpolated by Rosso likewise has Achilles mirroring the actions of his pedagogue.44 Both have arched their backs to keep their heads above the water. They can breathe and observe each other. Achilles looks to his right as he imitates Chiron and recovers his right arm, which mirrors Chiron’s left. That alternate arm movement out of the water for recovery suits only front crawl. There were no ancient precedents for the subject matter since the ancients did not believe that Chiron taught Achilles to swim. The closest visual parallels are coins with the image of Leander. As Digby’s woodcut with dotted line demonstrates, it is difficult to portray the elements of a swimming stroke that occur below the surface. In breaststroke the arms remain underwater; in front crawl they emerge out of water.45 Pirro Ligorio drafted designs for frescoes in the Salone dei Giochi in Ferrara. The panels depict physical exercises popular in antiquity. A team of artists executed the frescoes in keeping with Ligorio’s inventions. Sebastiano Filippi, known as Il Bastianino, did the ceiling panel for swimming. The fresco seems more a puzzle of visual allusions than a serious representation of ancient swimming. The composition features a small, crowded swimming or bathing pool.46 The upper register has a group of young men who are not yet in the water. From left to right, the first youth is standing and disrobing. Next to him is a seated naked youth who extracts something from his left foot, an allusion to the Spinario, an ancient bronze statue showing a boy pulling a thorn (spina) 43 Stat. Achil. 2.102–67; and Philostr. Her. 45.4. See, e.g, Fantham, 59–66. 44 Galerie François Ier, “L’éducation d’Achille,” Les clés du château: Guide pédagogique du château, Site éducatif du château de Fontainebleau, http://www.chateau-fontainebleau -education.fr/guide/education_achille.html. 45 See, e.g., Rossholm Lagerlöf, 23, 31–39, 67–68. 46 See also Bastianino, “Nuoto,” Salone dei Giochi, Castello Estense, Ferrara. Fondazione Federico Zeri, Università di Bologna, Fototeca Zeri 41875, http://catalogo.fondazionezeri .unibo.it/scheda/opera/44608/Filippi%20Sebastiano%2C%20Nuoto.

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figure 13 Sebastiano Filippi, detto Bastianino, Nuoto

from the same foot. The third and fourth characters faintly recall figures on Michelangelo’s Sistine Ceiling. The third sits and stretches his right leg, approximating an athletic Ignudo. The fourth kneels as he prepares to dive into the pool. He extends his arms in front of his body and bears some resemblance to Michelangelo’s foreshortened God who whooshes about in the act of creating. In the lower register, there are four figures in the pool, two smaller figures in the background and two prominent figures in the foreground. Of the two smaller figures, the young man on the left has his arms in front of him, lifts his head and shoulders from the water, and looks in the direction of the young man disrobing. The lad on the right seems to bend at the waist, extend his arms (or legs) in front, and again hold his head and shoulders well above the water. He looks innocently off to the right across the pool in the direction of no one. The conspicuous figure in the foreground stretches his arms in front and bends his legs at the knees. His right leg is bent back slightly, his left bent strongly past ninety degrees. He is about to hit the water in a belly slam and looks to a resting bather on his right for affirmation. The young man toward whom he looks is resting his left arm on the side of the pool and gazing in the

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direction of the show-off. The fresco offers nothing helpful for understanding swim techniques.47 There is a logic to Ligorio’s lack of technical expertise. Despite European efforts to conceptualize the arts of swimming and free-diving, training struggled to take hold. For centuries, Europeans relied heavily on African slaves to do work requiring either skill.48 Christofer Middleton published what he called an English translation of Digby’s Latin dialogue in 1595, but he supplied a greatly condensed version. Middleton reduced the nineteen pages of Book 1 to six and a half pages and eliminated most of the circumstances that Digby indicated made for safe swimming. He justified his choice by arguing that Digby wrote in a turgid Latin style accessible only to erudite scholars whereas he wished to reach everyone who read English. Among Middleton’s few original contributions was his claim that sidestroke was the fastest way to swim.49 In a translation of Digby’s work published in 1658, William Percey was more reticent to abridge or excise elements, no matter how difficult the style. Percey did reduce the seventeen chapters in Digby’s first book to eleven chapters. In the remaining chapters, Percey offered a literal translation of the Latin text. Unlike Middleton, Percey bundled only a few of the original woodcuts into a single illustration facing his title page. They are displayed without context or caption. Percey was a precursor of those in the internet age who disdain the notion of intellectual property. He never acknowledged translating a work of Digby and passed the treatise off as an original.50 47 See, e.g., Lee, 14–19; and Colantuono, 212–14. Both argue for the influence of Girolamo Mercuriale on Ligorio’s imagery. 48 See, e.g., K. Dawson, 2009, 81–92. 49 Middleton, 1595, reprinted in Orme, 113–207. See also Orme, 92–96. 50 See, e.g., Ralph Thomas, 172–79; and Orme, 103–05.

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Scholars and Engineers Contribute The manner of describing ignorance with that very vocabulary persists, at a time when mastery of swimming, if it does not obtain the same recognition, with which in past centuries it was endowed, at least it does not lie entirely neglected or without relevance. Girolamo Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 3.141

∵ The humanist emphasis on swimming as an art earned it a place at the scholarly table of physicians, humanists, and engineers. While professor of practical medicine at the University of Padua, Girolamo Mercuriale (1530–1606) published in 1573 a second edition of his treatise On the Art of Physical Exercising (De arte gymnastica). The new edition was enhanced by twenty-two engravings, nineteen of which were executed from designs of Pirro Ligorio. Mercuriale entered swimming among the forms of exercise he endorsed. The proverbial wisdom of the ancients established their astonishingly high opinion of swimming’s worth. After Hippocrates, the ancients began to focus on the therapeutic benefits of swimming. Mercuriale traced a number of those benefits in ancient medical texts. Caelius Aurelianus recommended that those suffering from arthritic conditions swim in hot springs to loosen rigidity. Galen advised swimming there to care for leathery skin. Sea water also had healing properties. Physicians recommended swimming in the sea for stubborn headaches (Aretaeus) or for blocked nasal passages that inhibited one’s sense of smell (Aetius from Galen). They also endorsed swimming in seawater for dropsy, scabies, exanthemata, leprosy, or leg effusions and for patients with eating 1 Mercuriale, De arte gymnastica, 1573, 182: “Magna et fere incredibilis apud ueteres fuit semper natationis existimatio tantumque per plura sаесula illius usus viguit, ut non minus pueri natandi artem quam prima litterarum elementa edocerentur. Quo tempore, cum nulla maior ignorantiae nota inuri posset quam dum aliquis nec litteras nec natare scire dicebatur, factum fuit ut posteriores illud in prouerbium contra bardos et prorsus inertes continuo receperint, adhucque ita loquendi consuetudo permaneat, quando natandi peritia, si non eosdem honores obtinet, quibus anteactis sаеculis afficiebatur, saltem nec penitus neglecta nec inutilis iacet.” (My translation).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_014

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disorders (Celsus and Antyllus). It was a way to treat paralysis. Swimming could help maintain the well-being of the stomach, liver, and spleen, and it could contribute to a cure for wasting syndrome.2 The surviving ruins of ancient Roman baths prodded Mercuriale to investigate the various locales where the ancients swam. They did so in natural settings and man-made structures. From Galen, Mercuriale adduced the etymological evidence of the kolumbēthrai, meaning pools for swimming.3 He saw the physical remains of pools attached to Roman bath complexes and felt that they could accommodate swimmers. All the complexes had a cold bath (loutron) in which a pool large enough for swimming, labeled a piscina or baptisterium, could be incorporated. Mercuriale felt that a swimming pool was more likely conjoined to the cold bath than the cold room ( frigidarium) because he found no textual evidence that water was supplied to the cold room. He considered the possibility that Martial swam in Rome’s Public Swimming Pool (Publica Piscina). Mercuriale had seen a fragment of the Forma urbis, a marble plan of the city of Rome from the early third century. The plan’s remains were excavated in 1562 and incorporated in the collection of Cardinal Alessandro Farnese. Mercuriale’s closest friend, Onofrio Panvinio, was among those who examined the perplexing pieces. One fragment supplied archaeological evidence for the existence of the pool because it indicated the location of Swimming Pool Street.4 Among natural settings, Mercuriale adduced (Ps.) Aristotle’s contention that the sea was preferable because the denser medium offered greater buoyancy and resistance.5 He cautioned against swimming in fresh water. The worst of freshwater environments were swamps because they gave off noxious vapors. Lakes worked both ways. The more expansive and clean a lake was, the less harm it would cause. He did endorse swimming in rivers, in part because he had read in Horace that young Romans exercised by swimming the Tiber

2 Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 1.10; 3.1, 14; 6.12 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 38–52, 132–33, 182–85, 303–05). See, e.g., Siraisi, 231–45; Lee; Agasse, 863–75, 944–52; Ongaro; and Nutton, 204–05. 3 Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 3.14 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 184), citing Gal. De methodo medendi 7.6 (473k) (Method of Medicine, 2011, 2:260–61). 4 Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 3.14 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 184): “ni velimus Martialem potius de publica piscina locutum esse, quam fuisse Romae ex multis et maxime ex regionum fragmento sub porticu Capitolina intelligere possumus, ubi Vici publicae piscinae clara mentio habetur …” Mercuriale cited Mart. 3.44.9–16. See, e.g, Maier, 135–37. 5 Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 3.14, 6.12 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 184–85, 304), citing Ps. Arist. Pr. 933a10–17.

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three times.6 Still, when push came to shove, Mercuriale favored a saltwater environment. Swimming had its own entry among the hundreds of professions that a Lateran canon named Tomaso Garzoni (1549–89) described in a 1585 encyclopedia of contemporary crafts. Garzoni assembled data from ancient and modern compilers. His key source on swimmers (De’ notatori) was the 1522 Geniales dies of Alessandro D’Alessandro. Garzoni insisted that humans were not by nature fluent swimmers. Smaller animals go faster in the water. Humans need instruction in the art. Once trained, some can achieve through practice a high level of proficiency. In the past, “il pesce Calano” swam stupefying distances in open waters. An unnamed helmsman swam from the island of Ischia to Monte di Procida on the mainland and then turned around and swam back. He was so fast that he outraced a boat propelled by skilled rowers. Garzoni had learned that, in his own day, the indigenous pearl divers of the West Indies had a remarkable ability to hold their breath. While the Venetians achieved the best results in swimming, all of Italy did well because the peninsula’s lengthy seacoast and numerous rivers gave Italians an incentive to learn. Garzoni did have trouble at times understanding his sources. He had the natural philosophers claiming that people with small arms had an advantage when swimming. The philosophers postulated that runners benefitted from a small spleen, but they would be delighted to know that Garzoni saw a logic to a position they never argued. Small arms made it easier for the swimmer to extend them and pull them back in. That sounds like dog paddling but could also be breaststroke. Garzoni produced another howler when he claimed that the ancient proverb about a master-swimmer referred to an otherwise unknown Delio. It would be difficult for some Delio or other to win a place in proverbial wisdom.7 1

Swimming as Ideal and Metaphor

Girolamo Mercuriale paraphrased Pierpaolo Vergerio when he argued that swimming freed humans from grave danger and made them bolder when fighting naval battles and crossing rivers.8 The martial value of swimming and 6 Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 6.12 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 303–04), citing Hor. Sat. 2.1.7–9. 7 Garzoni discorso 112 (Piazza universale, 1589, 794–95). See, e.g., Niccoli. 8 Vergerio, 2002, 82: “Nam et a magnis periculis liberare homines solet et ad navales pugnas transmissionesque fluminum audaciores reddit.” Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 3.14 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 182): “Quocirca, ut in naualibus quoque pugnis, quae tunc frequentius

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its professional application in free-diving remained primary applications, and both had the endorsement of antiquity. Michele Marullo Tarcaniota, a mercenary and poet, took refuge in Italy after Constantinople fell in 1453. He wanted to see the Turks driven from his homeland. In a poem that Marullo was preparing with instructions for the education of the young son of King Charles VIII of France, he highlighted that the Spartans taught their youth to withstand the chilly waters of the Eurotas River in December. Ironically, while returning to Naples after visiting Raffaele Maffei in Volterra in 1500, Marullo himself drowned crossing the Cecina River swollen by melting snows.9 2

Renaissance Engineers and Swimming

If humanists looked back to classical standards for swimming’s worth, engineers of their day looked forward. They developed technology for promising markets, particularly weaponry that might prove decisive in warfare. In a quest for princely patronage, the engineers put together illustrated technical manuals to demonstrate their ingenuity. Their manuscripts are purposefully vague to protect trade secrets. The earlier designers were amateur military engineers with formal schooling in medicine and astrology. In subsequent years, high profile court engineers like Francesco di Giorgio and Leonardo da Vinci kept personal notebooks in which they worked out their innovations. Their ways to improve swimming and diving were usually for military purposes: equipping swimmers to communicate with castles on cliffs, assuring that an armored knight on horseback can get across a river too deep to ford, or assisting divers when they conduct stealth operations.10 Renaissance engineers tinkered with the technology of inflated bags and other means of flotation for swimmers, beginning in earnest with Konrad Kyeser in the early fifteenth century. He offered at least three floats for human beings. Much of Kyeser’s thinking was dominated by adapting a trusty inflated leather bag to the human anatomy and fastening the float securely in place committebantur, in transeundis uadis ас fluminibus homines nandi arti confisi pericula magis euadere possent minusve formidarent.” 9 Marullo Tarcaniota, 2012, 388–89, referencing Stat. Theb. 10.497–98. See, e.g., Coppini. 10 See, e.g., Scaglia’s introduction to Taccola, De machinis, 1:7–28; White, 1969; White, 1978; Galluzzi, 1991a; Galluzzi, 1996, 11–18, 24–34; and Innocenzi, 93–118. The exhibition catalogue Renaissance Engineers (1996) was reprinted as Mechanical Marvels (1997). See also the online exhibit, “Leonardo and the Engineers of the Renaissance,” Museo Galileo: Institute and Museum of the History of Science (Florence) website, http://brunelleschi .imss.fi.it/ingrin/.

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so that a swimmer had free use of his arms and legs. Only the first of Kyeser’s designs seems intended to allow a swimmer to lie flat on the device and use arms and legs for propulsion. The upper section had three belts and buckles to hold it in place in front of the stomach. The lower or tail section hung freely below in the water and finished in an inflating hose equipped with a plug. Kyeser did not stipulate the materials, but he seemed to have intended sewn animal hide, given a visible seam running down the middle.11 Kyeser’s second design again had two distinct sections and explicit provision for an inflating tube. The upper section, an oval, supported the chest; the lower, a rectangle, supported the swimmer’s back. When Kyeser said that a greater portion of the back is hidden, he signaled that the device attached to the back as well as the front; the upper section had only buckles and the lower only belts. Kyeser specified that one make the bladders from goatskin and not position the float too high on the torso. He cautioned the swimmer to fasten the setup properly, all of which suggests that he tested a prototype.12 Kyeser’s third design is a leather ring float with a lengthy inflater. The ring section had a wide belt and buckle; the lower section had two parts, designed to pass under the crotch and have its belts attach to the buckles on the front of the ring. That design prevents the ring from riding up or the swimmer from falling through it. The device was sewn together.13 The second and third floats would keep a swimmer vertical, the second like a life jacket and the third like a life preserver. After Kyeser, the designers focused on floats that kept the swimmer upright. They applied the technology to aid the delivery of wartime messages. The swimmer would be well served by a supplemental means of propulsion if he had to cross a river while wearing a flotation device that kept him upright. Around 1423–24, Konrad Gruter von Werden designed a float mirroring the third of Kyeser’s devices. It consists of a girdle or belt and an inflating hose. The device should be manufactured from leather. Gruter instructed the tailor to double the material in order to prevent a disastrous puncture.14 Mariano di Iacopo called Taccola (1381–c. 1453) tweaked the design so that it held a swimmer’s torso higher in the water. That made it easier to handle an oar or blow a horn. In an earlier notebook, Taccola showed a man crossing a river with the aid of suspended pontoon floats. The floats have matching dimensions, a flat top, and curved sides. The pair hung over the swimmer’s shoulders, 11 Kyeser, 1967, 2:37: “Est hoc instrumentum cum quo natare valebis / Ante ventrem liga capud dependeat cauda / Ventus orientis perflabit posteriora / Quem captum teneas donec exire licebit.” 12 Kyeser, 1967, 2:41. 13 Kyeser, 1967, 2:43. 14 Gruter, 2006, 2:245.

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front and back. They seem rigid rather than inflated. The swimmer propelled himself with an oar.15 In a later treatise, Taccola depicted a ring float around the hips of a messenger who is giving signals with his trumpet to a castle on shore. Taccola’s text indicated that the float was manufactured from goatskin. The swimmer should wear it above his buttocks. According to Taccola, the setup would allow the messenger to go down or not go down, as he desired. He could go lower by releasing air from the belt and thereby conceal himself or defend himself from a missile fired his way. He could also choose to stay at the height at which he began and deliver his signal to allies in the castle.16 Francesco di Giorgio developed his predecessors’ ideas in two ways. He sketched means to keep the flotation device fixed in position and propel oneself on the water. In the Opusculum de architectura, Francesco sketched three devices to help a human swimmer walk or ride on water and paddle for momentum. In the first, the rider straddled an inflated bag tied at its four corners. He rested his feet in stirrups and rowed with an oar.17 A second sketch showed a float attached to sandals on each foot. The float was constructed from four pieces. As the messenger strode across the surface, aided by an oar, he would bend one leg at the knee and raise it. The release of pressure allowed the four pieces of the sandal-float to collapse into a barrel shape. The messenger’s straight rear leg pressed down on the water’s surface, splaying out the four pieces for greater surface area and buoyancy. The third device consisted of a pair of barrels yoked carefully together so that they would not roll in the water. Side ties through rings joined the top and bottom of the barrels, while a naturally forked branch bound their crowns. The naked messenger stood with one foot on each barrel, his forward leg bent and his rear leg straight, as he paddled from a position above the water.18 Francesco later invented ways to fix floats to a human body so that they would not ride up or slip down. In the Trattato di Architettura (Trattato II), he depicted a swimmer operating an oar while a ring float held him high in the water. Straps that crossed over his shoulders and further straps that laced around the top of his thighs secured the float. 15 Taccola, De ingeneis, 47 fig. 17. 16 Taccola, De machinis, 1:147, 2:130. When Paolo Santini plagiarized Taccola’s manuscript, he too showed the messenger in full color triumphantly blowing his horn as he floated well above the surface. See Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 124 fig. II.2B.1. 17 A later engineer in the Sienese tradition portrayed a swimmer with a ring float atop a large inflated bag. The swimmer’s left leg straddles the bag while his right leg is bent at the knee and his foot rests on the bag. Anon. (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Disegni di macchine, in Taccola, De ingeneis, 214 fig. 127; and Galluzzi et al., ed., 208 (I.f.1). 18 Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 125 fig. II.2B.4, reproducing British Library, London, MS 197.b.21, fol. 55v.

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The swimming messenger had a helper on shore who tended a safety line. On the opposite bank, Francesco sketched alternative flotation devices. The first was an inflatable waist-belt with two belt and buckle closures. The second was Taccola’s pair of pontoons, likely constructed from wood or cork and slung from shoulder straps. That design also added leg straps.19 The unidentified German engineer (Hand A) whose work is preserved in a manuscript labeled the Anonymous of the Hussite Wars depicted a flexible ring float. The swimmer closed the ring around his hips by fastening the three short belts into corresponding buckles. The ring also had a strap between the legs and a rigid inflater, composed of two segments that met at a sharp angle. When not in use, the inflater’s pronounced kink helped keep water from entering. To add air to the ring, the swimmer straightened the inflater by lifting its upper section.20 2.1 Flotation Devices for Swimming Knights The engineers likewise sought to make a knight amphibious. The concept appeared as early as the manuscript that Guido da Vigevano gave to King Philippe VI of France in 1335. Guido’s illustration showed a horse with an inflated leather bag wrapped around its body and two lengths of webbed material running under its belly.21 In both of his treatises, Taccola depicted a knight on horseback crossing a stream in full armor. The horse is buoyed by a pair of inflated leather bags tied into position in front of and behind the saddle. Taccola gave careful instructions that the bags be manufactured from goatskin and that the two ends be fastened under the stomach of the horse, leaving the inflated portion of the bags near the saddle. If the inflated portion were fixed below the horse’s stomach or slid around to that position, the float would turn horse and knight upside down.22 A leather flotation device included by Hand A in the Anonymous of the Hussite Wars manuscript adapted technology he had devised to help a man float to the weightier problem of a horse.23 Though a float for each individual horse dominated thinking, Konrad Kyeser designed 19 Francesco di Giorgio, Trattato di architettura (Trattato II), in Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 124 fig. II.2B.3. 20 B. S. Hall, 1979, 152, after Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich, MS Clm 197, I, fol. 13, https://daten.digitale-sammlungen.de/0011/bsb00113810/image_29. 21 Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 15 fig. 4. 22 Taccola, De ingeneis, 47 fig. 16. Taccola, De machinis, 1:147, 2:129. See also Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 124 fig. II.2B.2. 23 B. S. Hall, 1979, 152–53, after Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich, MS Clm 197, I, fol. 13v, https://daten.digitale-sammlungen.de/0011/bsb00113810/image_30. A later copyist characterized the float as “pertaining to a horse” (gehört zu dem pfertt). See, e.g., Hornell, 76.

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a mechanism to force a group of horses to cross a river in line. In Kyeser’s estimation, the device made “knights swim very well” (pernatantur equestres).24 Flotation devices for swimmers were familiar enough to a Renaissance audience that they were employed as imagery in fiction and in insulting characterizations of runaway ego. In his satirical dialogues, Leon Battista Alberti used the general metaphor of swimming and specific allegories derived from a variety of floats. In one entitled Fate and Fortune, Alberti created an allegorical landscape in which the world was a high mountain with a single path leading to its summit. Around the mountain flowed the Life (Bios) River, the most turbulent waterway one could imagine. The goal was to avoid shipwreck in the churning waters or survive a wreck one could not avoid. The quality of individual character, the quality of political leadership, and the pursuit of the good arts raised the odds for survival. But neither individuals nor the state could insulate themselves from disaster.25 Drawing upon flotation devices used from ancient times to his own, Alberti described various means that humans employ to save themselves in the roiling River of Life. Some were well sustained by leather bags and rose above the waters. Others holding the inflated bags were caught by the waves and smashed against the cliffs. The dialogue’s philosopher marveled at such great disparity of human fortune. Those using leather floats assumed they were safer, but they neglected to factor in the river’s powerful waves and unforgiving precipices. Their float was almost invariably punctured by sharp rocks hidden under the waters. They end up smashed into the cliffs, or they clung to the damaged float until they were pulled under. The better lot fell to those who, from their youngest days, relied on their own capacity to swim. Their mastery of swimming helped them to continue on in life. They avoided the rock faces and scrambled onto shore. Those who counted on personal strength to reach safety deserved to achieve glory. They acquired their ability to swim by polishing their physical talent through training and practice. Alberti used the classical triad to underscore that swimming was an art. In the River of Life, good persons have a far better chance to survive shipwreck. The upright do not rely on artificial life preservers or nothing at all. In contrast, those who relied on metaphorical bags like wealth or status or wicked deeds earned the opprobrium of others. On some occasions, swimmers were rescued by a boat after clinging to a floating plank. Those swimmers who supported themselves on planks added an extra safety factor. Supportive planks among mortals were called the good arts because they formed character. 24 Kyeser, 1967, 2:37. 25 Alberti, Fatum et Fortuna, 1890 (Fate and Fortune, 1987).

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In antiquity and the Renaissance, the inflated leather bags that were useful to novice swimmers and soldiers crossing rivers served as an image of runaway egotism. In 1483, an epistolary spat broke out between two distinguished humanists in Florence, Bartolomeo Fonzio (1446/49–1513) and Agnolo Poliziano (1454–94). Fonzio claimed that Poliziano’s ego had swollen like a bloated bag. Paolo Viti has argued that Fonzio drew inspiration for his rebuke from one of Horace’s satires. The Roman poet had no patience with colleagues who were infatuated with themselves. Horace admitted that he buried such persons under the verbal praise they craved until they finally cried uncle. An opponent could adopt no better strategy than to inflate the expanding bag with puffed up expressions of congratulation.26 Renaissance scholars likewise ascertained that the ancients had adapted the inflatable leather bag for medical therapy. Girolamo Mercuriale knew that ancient physicians prescribed attaching an inflated bladder to paralyzed limbs. The applied float reduced the effort needed to swim in spa waters that naturally loosened joints.27 3

Renaissance Engineers and Diving

The quest for an advantage in combat as well as the need to conduct salvage led Renaissance engineers to create technological aids for diving underwater. Their brief texts and vague drawings suggest that they were searching for ways to prolong a diver’s stay and improve his ability to see.28 Konrad Kyeser sketched divers furnished with self-contained sources of air to extend bottom time. The illustrations suggest that the air source allowed the diver to cross under a river from one castle to another. One diver has an air-filled bladder (vesica) with a copper mouthpiece and ties. The text suggests that the mouthpiece be integrated into the diver’s leather hood. If the water was choppy or current swift, the diver should compensate by using a lead weight or tying a support rope to a tree. A diver can then remain in place underwater or walk to his goal. A second diver has an armor helmet, lined with sponge and equipped 26 Fonzio Ep. 1.24 to Poliziano, Florence, 22 August 1483 (Letters to Friends, 2011, 68–69): “Quod si nulla te potuit ad tantam audaciam impulisse bene percepta et cognita disci­ plina, quid ita, in utris inflati morem, tumidis sermonibus insolescens pestifero tuo spiritu doctos conficis?” Viti, 534–35, who identified the reference to Hor. Sat. 2.5.98: “… crescentem tumidis infla sermonibus utrem.” 27 Mercuriale De arte gymnastica 6.12 (De arte gymnastica, 1573, 303). See, e.g., Dvorjetski, 84–92. 28 See, e.g., Galluzzi et al., 255 (I.r.1 by Daniela Lamberini), 282–95 (“Sopra e sotto l’acqua”); and Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 124–29 (II.2B: “Above and under water”).

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with viewing eyes manufactured from sand glass. The glass eyes should give the diver a wide field of vision and allow him to pick up any object he desires. A leather tunic is belted at the waste.29 Kyeser set precedents for the work of subsequent engineers. Leather made for a supple insulating material from which to sew a diving suit. Glass eyes in the head gear allowed a diver to see more clearly. For extended bottom time Kyeser handed on two solutions. Divers could breathe from a bladder or use the air trapped inside a helmet. His drawings and poems left issues unresolved. They do not indicate how much air the bladder holds and how carbon dioxide is exhausted. They do not indicate how the glass eyes are sealed to the leather hood or metal helmet. The quantity of air available to the helmeted diver is not apparent. We can hope that Kyeser did not make it depend on the helmet’s sponge lining. If the diver had a helmet fitting so tightly that it needed padding, he would exhaust its air quickly. Fifteenth-century engineers tinkered with or redesigned the idea of a bladder full of air. In a Venetian manuscript with material from Taccola’s De machinis and other sources, an illustration shows a diver descending head-first and breathing from an egg-shaped air reserve. The reserve extends to a mask stretched around his mouth and chin that is tied by four strings on top of his head. The diver’s eyes have no protection. The designer eliminated Kyeser’s problem of connecting a copper pipe to a leather hood, but he created a daunting new one in tying the mask tightly enough to prevent water from entering. Given that the air bag itself is below the diver, it would force air up to his mouth during the descent. But if the bag has air, it is perplexing to see it stay in place below him.30 Other engineers working in the tradition of Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio changed the breathing bag altogether. An engineering manuscript conserved today in Florence has a diver using a bellows for an air source. He is naked except for a hood, which has cutouts for his eyes, nose, and chin. He then tied the hood tightly below the chin. The bellows fed directly into his mouth and was stabilized by a line to the top of his hood.31 The sketch seems to show the diver pumping air to himself by pushing up on the bottom. A bellows assured access to all the air inside. Initially, the diver would breathe air from the bellows on his own; as the air supply diminished, he would force the reserve into 29 30 31

Kyeser, 1967, 2:40. Anon. (after Taccola, Roberto Valturio, and Francesco di Giorgio), De machinis, Galluzzi, 1991a, 22 fig. 16. Anon. (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Disegni di macchine, Galluzzi et al., ed., 208 (I.f.1), 287 (II.b.6); and Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 125 fig. II.2B.6.

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his mouth. He would, however, continually exhale carbon dioxide into the bellows. If designed to allow the external water pressure to compress the bellows, if built with greater flexibility than the diver’s rib-cage and diaphragm, and if placed a bit lower than the diver’s lungs, the bellows would be a way to provide a balanced air supply that maintains pressure equilibrium and reduces stress for the diver. But the drawing has the bellows at the height of his head where it would suck air from the diver’s lungs, not compensate for the reduction in lung volume under pressure. A second Sienese codex conserved in the British Library depicts two divers collecting sponge-like objects. The diver on the right has a similar bellows attached to his hood.32 Konrad Gruter developed the helmet container of air in two ways. He proposed weighting a diving messenger with stones and sending him underwater across a river with a water pot (urna) on his head. The pot was worn like a helmet. The Problems attributed to Aristotle in antiquity had proposed using a cauldron (lebes) for the same purpose.33 Having donned the pot and stone ballast, the diver snuck underwater and observed in his mind the route he needed to take. His diving pot blocked any vision of where he was going and what lay in his path. Gruter urged the diver to cross with dispatch because “necessity was weighing upon him” (necessitate incumbente). One can imagine why. The pot has a limited supply of air, it must be kept in a vertical position lest water enter, it probably would not function at any but the most shallow depths where the pressure is minimal and the volume of air almost complete, and the diver would have to hold a buoyant pot in place or rig his stone weights carefully. Gruter proposed a modification of Kyeser’s invention of an armor helmet and belted leather tunic. He first described a tightly fitting leather hood, cinched around the chin with extreme care. The seal must be watertight. Gruter followed Kyeser in insisting that the hood have glass eyes so the messenger could see where he was going. He incorporated into the hood a breathing tube (cuculla) that ran up to the surface where it attached to a float made from two inflated bladders. The word cuculla (cucullus) meant a cap or hood attached to a garment. Gruter apparently chose the term to underline the integral connection between hood and tube. Like the hood, the breathing tube should be manufactured from leather. Thin iron “threads” were wrapped around the tube to assure that the channel stay open. Gruter was confident that his 32

33

Anon. Sienese engineer (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Libro di macchine, reproduced in the online exhibit, “Leonardo e gli ingegneri del Rinascimento,” Museo Galileo (Firenze) website, http://brunelleschi.imss.fi.it/. Francesco di Giorgio, Trattato di architettura (Trattato I), Galluzzi et al., ed., 205 (I.e.3). Ps. Arist. Pr. 960b32–34 (Problems, 2011, 2:346–47).

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diving messenger could obtain a breath of air whenever necessary.34 He was wrong about that. A standing diver does not have the strength to overcome the hydrostatic pressure at a depth greater than approximately 0.45 m. Snorkeling proves the point. It works well in a prone position, not in a standing position. And, since the introduction of snorkels in the 1940s, they have become shorter, now averaging about 0.35–0.45 m in length. Once Gruter proposed the idea, later engineers followed him down a blind alley.35 Gruter’s variation of a helmet and integrated breathing tube, in fact, became the preferred solution. By 1430, illustrations of Kyeser’s manuscript show the air bladder with an additional breathing pipe to the surface.36 Mariano Taccola developed two ways to supply his salvage diver with a breathing tube running to the surface. The first sketch showed a rigid breathing tube inserted into the diver’s mouth.37 Upon exiting, it ran straight out for a brief length until it joined a V-shaped section of tube that angled back under the visor of his helmet and continued to the surface. Because the tube and raised visor have matching angles, Taccola intended the visor to hold the tube in place. The drawing shows a tube that may terminate at approximately the length of a modern snorkel.38 Taccola created a second diving suit useful for salvage operations. To retrieve a column or bombard from a depth of around 8.25 m (15 bracchiorum), he prescribed the hulls of boats as pontoons for the lifting operation. Using rocks, the salvors ballasted boats joined by three cross beams. A diver had to tie strong ropes tightly around the object, insofar as he could access it. The surface operation continued by making the lines from the object taut on the boats. The rocks were gradually removed from the hulls, buoyancy was restored to the lifting boats, and the object was raised off the bottom. To equip the diver for that task, Taccola designed a rig like that of Gruter. The diver wore a helmet with glass eyes. He breathed through a tube connected to the helmet. The tube ran to the surface where a cork float gave it support. In route the tube made a sharp turn. The drawing also has the diver wearing a tunic over footed hose. The tunic was cinched tightly at the waist and tied around the upper arms, presumably to make the seals watertight. There are bands attached to the collar of the helmet that run under the diver’s armpits. Finally, the diver carried a retrieval stick in his right hand, a long pole ending in a sharp point. In 34 Gruter, 2006, 2:245–46. 35 Encyclopedia of Recreational Diving, 3:57. 36 See, e.g., Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich, MS Clm 30150, fol. 79, https://www.digitale -sammlungen.de. 37 Galluzzi, Renaissance Engineers / Mechanical Marvels, 125 fig. II.2B.5. 38 Innocenzi, 107.

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his left hand, he carried a stone weight to counter his positive buoyancy.39 So equipped, he faces a conundrum. With both hands occupied, he could not tie off the column. Even if he put the stick down, he could not drop the stone, or he would begin to surface. There are multiple clues that Taccola never tested the design. If the breathing tube is made from a rigid material, Taccola needed to explain how to attach a rigid tube to a leather helmet and not have the joint leak. If helmet and tunic are manufactured from the same piece of leather or the helmet is sewn to the tunic, the ensemble might keep most water out. If, however, Taccola drew the helmet’s collar and attached bands running under the armpits to indicate that the helmet fitted over the tunic, it would leak. There was no apparent system to exhaust the carbon dioxide that the diver exhaled. Tying the tunic closed around the arms and waist risked cutting off blood flow as pressure increased on the seals. Critically, a human diver’s diaphragm was nowhere near strong enough to draw air from the surface through a tube to Taccola’s stated depth of 8.25 m. A diver could not draw it to 0.5 m. Incorporating the breathing tube into the structure of the helmet itself, perhaps helpful in keeping water out of the tube, would not address the vital problem of ambient pressure on the respiratory system. The engineer of Hand A in the Anonymous of the Hussite Wars manuscript drew a salvage diver wearing a round helmet.40 The engineer integrated into the helmet a tube that would allow the diver to breathe air from the surface. The tube made two s-curves on its way up and attached to a pair of bladder floats. The helmet has eye holes filled by glass. The diver also donned a tunic with a V-neckline, and he wore gloves. He had a safety line to the surface that performed double duty by cinching his tunic at the waist. Below the tunic, he wore traditional footed hose and sandals. The sandals may be weighted to counter his positive buoyancy. Bert Hall argued that the use of the same pigment for the floats, tube, helmet, tunic, and hose means that the engineer wanted the entire ensemble manufactured from the same flexible leather. The fact that the diver wore clothing over his entire body may reflect an attempt to insulate him more effectively from the cold waters of central Europe. The anonymous engineer did well to give the diver a safety line. Nonetheless, wrapping the line around his waist meant that it had to keep water from 39 Taccola, De ingeneis, 66, 104–05 plate 52; and Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 126 fig. II.2B.7. Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, Florence, MS Palat. 766, fol. 47, https://teca.bncf.firenze.sbn.it/Image Viewer/servlet/ImageViewer?idr=BNCF0002979263. 40 B. S. Hall, 1979, 78–80, 153, after Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich, MS Clm 197, I, fol. 14, https://daten.digitale-sammlungen.de/0011/bsb00113810/image_31.

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entering the tunic and helmet. And it had to be rigged in a way that it did not harm the diver as he was hauled to the surface. There are other issues as well. If helmet and tunic are separate pieces, there is no explanation how they are arranged to assure a watertight seal. And if the seal is not watertight, the diver will quickly drown inside the helmet. The neckline could also represent a sewn seam. At any significant depth, the diver could not pull air down through a tube that long. Even in acceptably shallow water, the ensemble would present serious risks. The breathing tube makes two sharp turns as it meanders toward the surface. The difficulty of drawing air down is compounded by the need to draw it around those curves, and the tube’s meandering increases the distance along which the diver must inhale the air. The leather tube is both flexible and positively buoyant. At the surface end, the hose makes a final ninety-degree turn and links to a rigid pipe connected to the floats. That rigid piece barely rises above the floats, assuring that it will take in a fair amount of water if the surface is disturbed. An engineer in the Sienese tradition drew his inspiration for the hood and hose arrangement from a diver whom Francesco di Giorgio drew in the margin of his first treatise on architecture. The diver breathes through a long tube to a cork float. The flexible helmet is precariously held in place by ties under the diver’s armpits and around his back.41 At the end of the fifteenth century, an engineering manuscript influenced by Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio (1439–1501) depicted a diver carrying a personal lantern. The lantern is completely sealed and has at least two ports to allow the light to shine outward. It cradles a stone inside for ballast. A candle supplies the light.42 The underwater lantern and glass eyes for the diving hood betray the engineers’ awareness of two problems affecting visibility in water. First, light becomes weaker as it passes through the dense medium of water. Objects on the bottom are often not visible from the surface unless supplemental light from an artificial source is brought to bear. Second, because water is denser than air and refracts light differently than air, the human eye has difficulty focusing in water. One can make out shapes and objects 41

42

Anon. Sienese engineer (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Libro di macchine, reproduced in the online exhibit, “Leonardo e gli ingegneri del Rinascimento,” Museo Galileo (Firenze) website, http://brunelleschi.imss.fi.it/. Francesco di Giorgio, Trattato di architettura (Trattato I), Galluzzi et al., ed., 205 (I.e.3). Anon. (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Disegni di macchine, Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 125 fig. II.2B.6. Taccola had designed an illuminated viewing bucket to assist the hunt for a valuable object on the bottom from a boat. Taccola, De ingeneis, 125, 137–39 plates 84–86; and Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 20 fig. 12. A later rendition of the underwater lantern showed it equipped with a pair of wooden struts that cross to form a support for its candle. Anon. (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Disegni di macchine, in De ingeneis, 214 plate 126.

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underwater with the naked eye, but they are fuzzy unless one adds an air space and a window.43 From the perspective of diving technology, the first half of the sixteenth century proved the long fifteenth century. Early sixteenth-century engineers continued the research of their predecessors as they sought to equip divers with an apparatus that would allow them to breathe underwater. A drawing by Leonardo da Vinci in a codex now preserved in the British Library documents his tinkering with the breathing hose.44 A marginal note of Leonardo indicated his awareness of an apparatus used by Indian divers to harvest coral and pearl oysters. His drawing in the London codex proposed a double breathing tube incorporated into a half hood that covered the diver’s nose and mouth. The tubes reached the surface at a floating cork buoy. According to smaller drawings, the doubled tubes were assembled using short lengths of cane linked by pieces of leather reinforced within by metal coils. The twin tubes extended for approximately two and a half times the length of the human head. The surface buoy was built up by Leonardo to assure that the attachment point for the hoses sat well above the surface. The double hose may indicate that Leonardo experimented with the single tube design and realized the difficulty for human divers to draw air from the surface to any significant depth. But doubling the hose does not solve the problem. Some scholars argue that Leonardo had valves to open and shut the hoses so that one was for inhaling and the other for exhaling.45 Leonardo’s ideas for the diver’s end of the hoses are less clear. The piece over the nose and mouth of the diver is held in place by a strap around the back of the diver’s head. It may be intended as a full hood. There appear to be retaining elements, akin to a modern snorkel-keeper, which hold the hoses above each ear and direct them toward the surface. The drawing finally depicts a bag that hangs below the mouth and nose piece, probably an air reserve. Leonardo toyed with combining the breathing tube and air-bladder systems, introducing the element of redundancy. Further drawings by Leonardo may be preliminary ideas as he worked out the system. That would be consistent with the way that Leonardo operated, 43 Encyclopedia of Recreational Diving, 1:13–17, 3:8. 44 British Library, London, MS Arundel 263, fol. 24v. Leonardo da Vinci, notes and diving suit, c. 1500, pen and ink on paper, http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref=arundel _ms_263_f001r. The diving apparatus was reconstructed for the online gallery of the British Library, http://www.bl.uk/onlinegallery/features/leonardo/diving.html. See, e.g., Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 188–91. 45 See, e.g., Innocenzi, 109.

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seeking to better his scheme through a series of sketches. In one, he showed a man with a bag strapped to his chest. The bag extends below the diver’s waist. It is tapered toward its lower end and equipped with reinforcing rings. There are straps around the head at the level of the mouth and forehead, but there is no clear indication of a mouthpiece or tube allowing the diver to breathe from the air supply. Leonardo designed the bag with a tapered bottom to allow the diver to squeeze up the air. Since the bag hangs below the lungs, it might briefly keep the air pressure in the diver’s lungs equal to the surrounding water pressure. His cryptic remarks mirror the drawing’s obscurity.46 Leonardo sketched out a full-body diving suit, manufactured in distinct pieces. To keep water from entering, the suit was tied at the wrists and ankles. The torso piece included a hood with glass eye-pieces. Leonardo understood the need for improvements. He doubled the breathing tubes, combined rigid and flexible elements to build up those tubes, and assured that they ride above the surface on a floating buoy. He showed concern for safety in having a bag attached to the chest of the diver as a reserve source of air if the tubes failed. Leonardo worked creatively within an existing engineering tradition. Many of his diving contributions are less inventions than developments. Soon thereafter, he terminated his research on underwater warfare because it had the potential to generate a weapon of mass murder.47 Printed editions of the treatise of Vegetius included woodcut illustrations of two divers that show the influence of Kyeser’s Bellifortis. A first edition with illustrations but no text was published at Erfurt around 1512. One diver was dressed to his shoulders in a close-fitting, stitched suit. The diver breathes from an air bladder, the first of Kyeser’s proposals.48 The second submerged warrior was equipped with a helmet, scepter, and dagger in shield. To stay alive, he apparently has only the air trapped inside his armor helmet, Kyeser’s second 46

Bibl. Ambrosiana, Milan, Codex Atlanticus, fols. 26 (tube to float), 261/262 (tube to float), 881 (traditional devices), 909v (tapering bag), 1069r–v (tube to float developing fol. 26 drawing). See, e.g., Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 48 fig. 43 (Codex Atlanticus, fol. 909v), 49 fig. 44 (Codex Atlanticus, fol. 1069); and Zöllner and Nathan, 575 fig. 511 (Codex Atlanticus, fol. 1069 / 386r–b), 577 fig. 514 (Codex Atlanticus, fol. 26 / 7r–a). For Leonardo’s renunciation of submarine warfare, see Library of Bill Gates, MS Hammer (formerly Leicester), fol. 22v. 47 See, e.g, Galluzzi, 1987. 48 Vegetius, De re militari, 1512–13, 14; Galluzzi et al., ed., 179 (I.a.5). The Bayerische Staatsbibliothek has made the 1512–13 edition available online. For this illustration, see the Bayerische Staatsibibliothek website, http://daten.digitale-sammlungen.de/~db/0001/ bsb00011426/image_18. See, e.g., Allmand, 244–45.

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proposal.49 The edition of Vegetius published at Paris in 1532 provided a woodcut illustration of the hose apparatus blended with methods to fasten a swim float to the body. There was a large drawing of the setup in the center of the page and a smaller view of a diver using it on the left side of the page. The apparatus replicated the traditional breathing hose incorporated into a hood and upper torso ensemble. The hood gave no indication of consideration for allowing the diver to see. He may have gone to Gruter’s school where one learned to store a mental image of the intended underwater route. The ovular hood tapers down under the chin and then expands into a rectangular piece equipped with two belts and two buckles. It was designed to fit over the shoulders and then be buckled into place at chest level.50 A mid-sixteenth century manuscript now in Florence presented the hood and tube technology coming to the aid of a diver who must plug a ship’s leak. The diver wears a leather helmet that reaches his shoulders and has a j-shaped breathing tube, described in the manuscript as a blowpipe (cerbottana). Oddly, the tube was sewn to the hood at the diver’s nose and ran from there alongside the damaged ship. The illustration’s caption proclaimed that the helmet and tube allowed a bottom time of two to four hours. The helmet was also equipped with two glass viewing eyes. The diver had a safety rope around his waist: one end ran to a tender on his support vessel and the other to a stone weight. Otherwise the diver was naked. He would plug leaks with “wedges” (conoli) labeled “sponges” (spungie). To do the work, the diver stripped naked, donned the helmet, tied the cord with a heavy weight around his waist, and submerged.51 Free-divers on ships sailing the Spanish Main were wise to forego the helmet-and-tube technology when they made in-water repairs. The pursuit of the tube incorporated into a leather helmet indicates the craft traditions of court engineers during the Renaissance and the fantastic ideas they entertained but never tested. 49 Vegetius, De re militari, 1512–13, 13. The illustration is available on the Bayerische Staatsibibliothek website, http://daten.digitale-sammlungen.de/~db/0001/bsb00011426/ image_17. 50 Vegetius, De re militari, 1532. Reproduced at Mullen, The Visual Telling of Stories website, http://www.fulltable.com/vts/p/pr/l/11.jpg. 51 Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, Florence, MS Palat. E.B.16.5 (II), Anon. (XVI s.), loose leaf inserted in Cosimo Bartoli, Raccolta di varie macchine, c. 1562–1572. The drawing is reproduced and discussed in Galluzzi et al., ed., 255 (I.r.1). See, e.g., Bryce, 85–112.

chapter 13

Diving in the Renaissance Stevedores, shipowners, boatmen, diver (a swimmer who is an under the water and under the seas swimmer-diver). Celio Calcagnini Res nautica1

∵ Apart from one archaeological project in the sixteenth century, the technological concepts of Renaissance engineers had little impact on actual diving. And the influential technology was neither a self-contained air source nor a surface-supplied one. When divers were needed for military or salvage operations, they continued to apply the art of free-diving on a single breath. Leon Battista Alberti had knowledge of the physical strength and specialized preparation of free-divers from his birthplace of Genoa. The divers had regular work keeping the city’s harbor entrance passable. Alberti described a Genoese diver who had demolished a rock blocking the entrance to the harbor and was rumored to be able to stay underwater for the better part of an hour. Alberti did well to characterize the report as a rumor. The claim of an hour underwater on a single breath is preposterous. In the early twenty-first century, champion free-divers remain submerged for a maximum of seven to eight minutes. In addition to natural ability, Alberti said that the diver had received admirable training (praeditus mira arte et natura). Diving was an art that a master could teach to competent swimmers.2 There were several crafts in medieval Genoa that have a tie to shipbuilding and seafaring, though not all were organized into formal guilds. Evidence suggests that, were the Genoese diver hired as a member of a guild related to shipbuilding, he would receive more compensation than were he hired for his ability to break up rocks. 1 Calcagnini “Qui rem nauticam exercent in classeque versarentur” (De re nautica, 1544, 313): “Vectores, navicularii, naviculatores, urinator (natator qui hyphydros et hyphalos [et] colymbetes). Exercetur autem natatio vel solo nitu corporis, vel utre consuto seu corio, quod et culeum et ascoperam vocant, vel cortice, vel subere, vel arefacta exenterataque cucurbita. Sed quod nos arte proficimus, id Thibiorum genus in Ponto a natura habet, ut neque veste degravati mergi possint.” 2 Alberti De re aedificatoria 10.12 (L’architettura, 1966, 2:969; On the Art of Building, 1988, 352). On Genoese guilds, see, e.g., Itzcovich, 23–25, 30–32; Gatti; and Epstein, 120–25, 137–38. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_015

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In the mid-sixteenth century, Celio Calcagnini, a professor at the University of Ferrara gathered terms from ancient sources for categories of maritime workers. His work reflects the lexical fascination of late Renaissance philology. After listing stevedores (vectores), shipowners (navicularii), and boatmen (naviculatores), Calcagnini added a lone diver (urinator). There may be no significance to the singular noun, but it could indicate that ships in his day normally engaged a single professional diver. Calcagnini then followed with the Latin term for swimmer (natator). The first printed edition punctuates matters in a confusing way, capitalizing Natator to indicate a new sentence and adding three Greek transliterations to designate an underwater swimmer (hyphydros et hyphalos et kolymbetes). Two are adjectives and only the last a noun. Both Thucydides and Cassius Dio used the compound expression “underwater swimmer-divers” (kolumbētai hyphydroi). The capital “N” and second “et” may therefore be printing errors. Calcagnini understood the ancient diver as a specialized swimmer and category of labor employed on ships or in harbors. He followed that discussion with an explanation of the equipment employed by ancient fishermen. At the conclusion he claimed that the differing catch of fish generated a variety of names for specialized fishing. They included murex fishermen, purpurarii in Greek and murileges in Latin, and sponge divers, spongotherae in Greek, as if they were hunters of sponges.3 1

Traditional Tasks

1.1 Marine Creatures Descriptions in Renaissance sources of free-diving for marine creatures in Mediterranean Europe are scant. As a young man living in Florence, the military engineer Francesco De Marchi discovered that there were local fishermen who dived in the Arno River and caught fish with their bare hands. The context in which De Marchi discussed the underwater activity was sobering. De Marchi had seen one such fisherman dive to the bottom of the Arno and not come up. Months later, when the water level in the river lessened, his body appeared. The diving fisherman had caught his drawers on a snag. De Marchi would later in life apply lessons from that experience when he had his first chance to dive underwater.4 3 Thuc. 4.26.8; and Cass. Dio 42.12.2. Calcagnini “Apparatus piscatorius” (De re nautica, 1544, 313). 4 Francesco De Marchi Architettura militare 2.82 (Architettura militare, 1810a, 3:256; Architettura militare, 1810b, 2:360).

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Biondo Flavio linked fishing for coral in antiquity to the practice in his own day. Biondo mistakenly identified ancient Graviscae along Italy’s Tyrrhenian coast, where Pliny had noted an emporium for trade in red coral, with contemporary Montalto di Castro, where coral was still harvested. Graviscae is actually Porto Clementino near Tarquinia. For a century beginning around 580 BCE, Etruscan Graviscae accommodated a trading post of Greeks who utilized coral as a votive offering in their small sanctuary. Biondo did not indicate how the coral was collected at Montalto di Castro.5 The amateur archaeologist Ciriaco d’Ancona described a royal outing for the hunt in September 1448 along the coast of the Gulf of Ambracia. The little fleet ferrying the hunters included a swift bireme and several small boats. Ciriaco d’Ancona got to know four crew members on the bireme who doubled as coral divers. Combining work as a sailor and diver assured a decent livelihood. The four had recently worked on a small open boat (parvula scapha) in search of red coral. They embarked at Marseilles and headed south through the Tyrrhenian into the Libyan Sea. Coral had long been fished along the Tunisian coast of Africa. From there, they crossed the Sicilian and Ionian seas to reach the coast of Epirus. In classicizing terms Ciriaco described their search for coral beds along the Ceraunian, Phaeacian, and Chaonian shores. The Ceraunian mountains are a coastal range in southwestern Albania, the Phaeacian coast referred to the island of Corcyra (Corfu), and the Chaonian coast was the area in Epirus once inhabited by an ancient Greek tribe called the Chaones. At every stop the four hoped to extract coral from the seabed (legendi corali gratia). Early on, they did a more cursory check, but in the last stages of the journey they closely examined the seas. That suggests more intensive diving off the coast of Epirus and the island of Corcyra. Ciriaco characterized the four as astonishingly spirited. His remarks exude respect for the courage of such divers and imply an over-harvesting of coral at shallow depths that made it scarce in the Western Mediterranean.6 1.2 Military Contributions and Repairs at Sea In addition to harvesting fish and coral, Renaissance divers participated in military operations. According to the humanist historian Giacomo Bracelli, Genoa produced its own Skylliēs, who contributed to victory at the battle of 5 “Gioielli di corallo,” Stilearte.it website, https://www.stilearte.it/amuleti-di-corallo-nella -pittura-cinquecentesca-proteggevano-i-bambini-dalle-streghe-vampire/. Biondo Flavio Italia illustrata 1.2.20 (Italy Illuminated, 2005, 1:58–59), citing Plin. HN 32.21. See, e.g., Ridgway, 667–70; and Uggeri, “Graviscae”, in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/. 6 Ciriaco de’ Pizzecolli d’Ancona, Later Travels, 2003, 344–45.

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Bonifacio in 1420. When Alfonso V of Aragon besieged the Corsican town, Doge Tommaso Fregoso sent a small relief fleet. Expecting a Genoese attack, Alfonso had created a barrier of wooden beams, thick hawsers, and iron chains to block the harbor’s entrance. Behind the barrier Alfonso aligned five large ships side by side, their bows facing out. The line was connected by gangways to shore for resupply. Alfonso’s flagship, Capo Rotondo, occupied the center. It was said to be the largest warship on earth. At the rear of the five principal ships, Alfonso disposed his smaller warships, and he deployed his field guns on both sides of the harbor.7 Swimming and diving aided the Genoese cause. The night before the battle, the residents of Bonifacio sent a swimmer to give the Genoese commander a description of the disposition of enemy forces. The commander sent the swimmer back with instructions to recruit young people ready to cut the lines mooring the five vanguard ships to shore. The following day, the Genoese fleet attacked. Their first ship forced the harbor barrier and created an opening. Unfortunately, only two other vessels followed, while the fourth Genoese ship collided with one of its own and withdrew. That left only three ships inside the barrier. They took fierce fire from the enemy ships and the guns on shore.8 At that crucial moment, help came from a Genoese sailor named Andrea. For his proven diving abilities, Andrea was called “the Cormorant” (Mergus / Marangone). His previous experience came from salvage diving where he found it child’s play to retrieve something lost on the bottom. As the battle raged, Andrea donned a leather helmet to shield himself from missiles, grabbed a short knife, and slipped overboard. Swimming underwater, he approached the huge Catalan flagship, cut its anchor lines, and set it adrift. The massive ship then jumbled the tidy line of five.9 If Andrea the Cormorant actually existed, he would be the first such military diver since ancient times, a minor additional renaissance. The humanistically educated Bracelli might have known the story of Skylliēs and other ancient naval divers and included the exploits of a diver contributing to victory by cutting anchor cables.10 In 1497 Venetian ship carpenters helped to defeat a troublesome corsair named Peruca (Peruza). A small Venetian fleet of three great galleys commanded by Bernardo Cicogna chased down Peruca off the coast of Africa. 7

Accounts of the battle are found in Stella and Stella, 1975, 345–48; Bracelli, 1856, 30–49; and Giustiniani, 1981, fols. CLXXXIII–CLXXXIIII. Bracelli (and Giustiniani following him) have the story of Andrea the Cormorant (Marangone, Margone, Magrone, Smergo). 8 Stella and Stella, 1975, 347 lines 4–7. 9 Bracelli, 1856, 44–46. 10 The notary Giovanni Stella gave an account of the battle but did not mention Andrea. Stella and Stella, 1975, 347 lines 27–30.

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Cicogna moved in close enough to allow his men to board the pirate vessel, but the height of the ship stymied the operation. Cicogna decided to use his carpenters to sabotage Peruca’s vessel. He had them improvise a raft, stealthily approach the enemy merchantman, and hide beneath the transom at its stern. As instructed, the carpenters removed the caulking between planks of the pirate vessel just below the waterline. The sources do not indicate whether the carpenters dived; they may also have reached over the edge of the raft to chisel out the caulking. Until it was too late, Peruca did not realize that his ship was slowly filling with water. He had no choice but to surrender.11 Early modern accounts of ship’s carpenters and divers making repairs at sea add credence to the possibility that Cicogna employed both. While returning from a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1506, Sir Richard Guylforde, an engineer and shipbuilder, described a diver submerging nine or ten times in rough seas to re-hang the great galley’s rudder. The vessel had taken shelter in an anchorage at the Adriatic island of Hvar. Empowered by his “suttell crafte,” the diver accomplished the entire repair underwater and set the pintles into their gudgeons the same night.12 Spanish treasure fleets carried free-divers who were responsible for repairing leaks at sea. The command vessels, the almiranta and capitana, had on board their own professional diver. On other ships, when a professional was unavailable, a sailor could be pressed into service. The operation was the opposite of that undertaken by Cicogna’s carpenters. The repairman stripped naked, dived over the side, and tested the seams with his knife for leaks. Once the diver found a leak, he forced oakum into the gap and nailed a thin sheet of lead over the caulking. Despite the extreme working conditions, divers were usually able to patch the seepage. Iberian and English wrecks from the period supply archaeological evidence that vessels carried repair tingles and employed them when needed.13 On the command vessels, the diver was part of a group of repair specialists that also included a carpenter and a caulker. During battle, the three worked together below decks to plug holes. Afterwards, the carpenter and caulker would first try to repair hull damage or free a blocked rudder from on board. If that failed, the diver had to enter the water. He generally worked alone. It was up to the ship’s master to decide whether to make the repairs in mid-ocean or wait until the vessel had anchored in port.

11 Letter of Benetto di Bernardo Bembo, 1 October 1497 (Malipiero, 1843, 641–43). Pietro Bembo Historia Veneta 4.8 (History of Venice, 2007, 1:258–61). See, e.g., Bellabarba, 205. 12 Pylgrymage of Sir Richard Guylforde, 1851, 76. 13 Bound, 66–67; and Royal and McManamon, 335.

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Pablo E. Pérez Mallaína discussed the 1551 case of Pero Díaz Machín, master and owner of the vessel La Magdalena. Díaz Machín was in legal trouble for assaulting a sailor and tearing his beard, an egregious violation of the code of honor. He was tried in the Panamanian port of Nombre de Dios, where he was found guilty, jailed, exiled from the Indies for two years, and suspended as ship’s master. Before departing, Díaz Machín reconciled with his disgraced antagonist. On the voyage back, he made further reparations by volunteering to dive overboard and repair leaks on two ships in danger of sinking. He plugged the leaks by nailing lead sheets over fissures in both hulls. Upon arrival in Seville, he petitioned the judge to commute his sentence for the insulting attack on the sailor as a reward for his courage in repairing the leaking hulls.14 1.3 Salvage Salvage remained a primary work opportunity for a free-diver. An Aesopic fable that Alberti wrote in 1437 suggested that the Ocean worked in solidarity with salvage divers. A shipwrecked individual took the Ocean to court and won a conviction for theft of his property. The Ocean assured the plaintiff of his willingness to cede the goods. The plaintiff could reclaim them whenever he wanted. The Ocean acknowledged that salvage diving was a legitimate business.15 Free-divers submerged to retrieve fouled or lost anchors. An entry in the logbook of Luca di Maso degli Albizzi, written during a voyage from Florence to Flanders in 1429–30, confirmed that shipowners tried to salvage valuable anchors gone missing in route. Luca sent the Pisan official Antonio da Malaventre and a shipwright serving as carpenter to recover items lost in a storm off the coast of Catalonia and accentuated the iron anchors.16 Divers in Genoa had regular opportunities to conduct salvage work inside the harbor. Every stretch was vulnerable to some vexatious wind.17 An attempt in 1513 to destroy the Fortezza della Lanterna generated one of the more unusual salvage operations of the era. The episode is doubly important for its information on swimming. An engineer proposed to the government that he dislodge rebels from the fortress by building a fortified barge to ferry sappers beneath its walls. The battery of cannon that the fortress garrison had at their disposal made it necessary to protect the barge, so it was given a superstructure of inner and outer walls of wooden planks. Wool was stuffed between the two to buffer the impact of cannonballs. Once the barge was ready, the 14 15 16 17

Pérez-Mallaína, 72–73, 80, 208–09. See also Rahn Phillips, 139–40. Alberti Apologi 13 (Apologi, 1972, 84, 120; Renaissance Fables, 2004, 43). Albizzi, Diary, 1967, 215–16. See, e.g., Stella and Stella, 1975, 54 (lines 15–21), 198 (lines 7–16), 318 (lines 27–36).

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Genoese selected one hundred crack soldiers for phase one of the operation. Under cover of night, they made their way toward the fortress. They faced a fierce bombardment from the defenders of the lighthouse. Over time, the wool buffering weakened, and the barge sank. Those soldiers drowned who did not know the art of swimming (nandi artis ignari). The citizens whose wool was requisitioned to cushion the raft’s structure were infuriated. The government therefore sent divers, who partially salvaged the wool.18 2

Renaissance Origins of Archaeological Diving

2.1 Free-Diving at Lago di Nemi in the Fifteenth Century For the first time in Western history, professional free-divers and military engineers of the Renaissance examined an ancient shipwreck and tried to salvage it. The wreck was one of two huge barges that Caligula commissioned for use on lago di Nemi south of Rome.19 The pair of Roman ships lay on property that belonged to Cardinal Prospero Colonna. The ecclesiastical leader of a long influential family decided to enlist professionals to recover a Roman ship from the bottom of his lake. Leon Battista Alberti directed the fifteenth-century operation. There are three accounts of what happened that day: Alberti’s own in book five of his On the Subject Matter of Building (De re aedificatoria), Biondo Flavio’s added as a marginal note in the manuscript of his Italy Illustrated (Italia illustrata), and Pope Pius II’s reflections recorded in his Commentaries.20 Cardinal Colonna supplied the enterprise its primary research question: why did the Romans build such huge ships for so small a lake? To answer that question, a humanist architect tried to salvage one of the ships from a maximum depth given as 12 ulnae (c. 21.6 m). Alberti served as the project director. To conduct the work underwater, he recruited free-divers from Genoa. Alberti knew that Genoese divers received rigorous training and achieved impressive results. Because the Genoese were free-divers, they spent up to two minutes working at a depth that averaged 14 m. Alberti related almost nothing about their contribution. In his treatise on building, Alberti discussed problems of river maintenance, particularly the need to remove a loose obstruction or fixed snag from the riverbed. The most 18 Senarega, 166–67. 19 Biondo Flavio, 1927, 154–59. 20 Alberti De re aedificatoria 5.12 (L’architettura, 1966, 1:387–93; On the Art of Building, 1988, 136–38). Biondo Flavio Italia illustrata 2.47–50 (Italy Illuminated, 2005, 1:188–93). Pius II Commentarii 11.22 (Commentarii rerum memorabilium, 2:702–11; Commentaries, 1936–57, 758–63). See, e.g., McManamon.

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effective way to remove the obstacle was to improvise a lifting ship. The term Alberti chose, navis, suggests a vessel of good size. Once the ship was anchored over the object and ballasted down in the water, it was time to put the sunken object in a noose (adlaqueo / illaqueo). Though Alberti did not explicitly say so, a free-diver would have to descend and rig the ropes around the object. After the object was secured, the ropes were made fast to the lifting hull, the ballast was slowly removed, and the object was eventually pulled free. For precedent, Alberti pointed to Pliny’s description of the use of ballasted barges in antiquity to lift and move an obelisk from its quarry on the Nile River to its ceremonial location.21 Biondo Flavio described two distinct groups of workers who contributed to Alberti’s enterprise. The first were those skilled in the art of carpentry (lignarii artis eius periti). They had the responsibility to deploy the iron hooks suspended on ropes for attachment to the wreck and operate the winches used for the lift itself. The second were Genoese contract workers (conducti) whom Biondo characterized as more like fish than human beings. They had the ability to swim down and reach the deeper parts of the lake. Biondo said that Alberti gave the Genoese free-divers three tasks. They were to determine by feel how much of the ship remained and how intact its structure was; they were then to attach the iron hooks so that they bit into the hull and firmly grasped it. Pius II claimed that Cardinal Colonna, not Alberti, had summoned the divers from Genoa. He characterized them as sailors for whom it was not difficult to remain underwater. Their status as sailors may indicate their guild affiliation and source of training. The pope was the only one to indicate that the divers determined important information about the ship from what they were able to see and feel underwater. He repeated Biondo’s phrasing that they descended by swimming to the bottom of the lake. They returned to say that there was a palace onboard. Pius inferred that the Roman ship was comparable to the pleasure yachts used by various Renaissance rulers. The divers also saw a metal chest, manufactured from copper or iron and girded by four hoops. They spotted a water jar fashioned from clay and decorated with a gilt bronze lid. Alberti designed the salvage operation to pull the entire ship out of the lake, but the lift only managed to break off a small piece from one end. Biondo discussed key loose finds retrieved by the divers. They were pieces of lead pipe with lettering inscribed on them. Based upon an examination of the inscription, Biondo assigned the vessel to the emperor Tiberius. Alberti had attributed the vessel to Trajan. Pius gave general dimensions: the ship was no less 21 Alberti De re aedificatoria 6.6, 10.12 (L’architettura, 1966, 2:969; On the Art of Building, 1988, 352), citing Plin. HN 36.67–68.

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than 20 cubits (8.90 m) in length, and it had a beam proportionate to that length. Both were safe estimates that may go back to the divers. The report of a palace on board and rich appointments like the chest and water jar with gilded lid could only come from the divers. They confirmed what Pius had experienced for himself. Elite rulers could afford to navigate inland waterways on luxury yachts.22 It would be centuries before Mussolini drained the lake and the two ships were recovered.23 2.2 Bell-Diving at Lago di Nemi in the Sixteenth Century In the aftermath of Alberti’s failed attempt, archaeological diving ceased for a time. Only in 1535 was a second expedition mounted to recover the Roman ship in lago di Nemi. The protagonists utilized a new technology to assist the underwater work, the diving bell. In a work of military engineering published posthumously, Francesco De Marchi (1504–76) described the expedition to the lake to test out the bell.24 De Marchi was able to further the archaeological exploration of the Nemi ships because his fellow military engineer, Guillaume de Lorraine, had invented a viable bell. The personal bell allowed a diver to remain underwater for up to an hour, see while there, and work with his arms. The inventor was also gracious enough to teach De Marchi the use of the bell and let him try it underwater. Previous engineers had exploited the technology of a bell when they designed a submersible lantern to assist the search for treasure underwater. Taccola devised a way to help searchers working from a boat find an object at a depth too great for the naked eye. He sketched an inverted tub with a candle to illuminate the turgid depths. The container should be constructed from terracotta or wood. If wood, it will require ballasting by hanging stones around the outside. It must be equipped with a ring at the top through which a line is run, it must carry a light source on the inside, and it must have an open bottom to allow the light to diffuse.25 A later rendition of the underwater lantern showed it equipped with a pair of wooden slats that cross to form a strut for its candle.26 The inverted container, open on its bottom, employs the same principles of science as a diving bell does. If vertical, it does not fill completely with 22 Pius II Commentarii 4.4 (Commentarii rerum memorabilium, 1:246; Commentaries, 2007, 2:208–11). 23 Ucelli. 24 De Marchi Architettura militare 2.82, 84 (Architettura militare, 1810a, 3:256–63, 266–70; 1810b, 2:356–66, 370–74). 25 Taccola, De ingeneis, 125, 137–39 plates 84–86; and Galluzzi, 1996/1997, 20 fig. 12. 26 Anon. (after Taccola and Francesco di Giorgio), Disegni di macchine, in Taccola, De ingeneis, 214 plate 126.

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water and provides enough oxygen to keep a tall candle burning for a time. Guillaume de Lorraine and Francesco De Marchi had tested their own theories about the viability of a diving bell by designing similar experiments. They fixed a lighted charcoal or lit candle in a bucket and submerged it. Charcoal and candle continued to burn by combusting the oxygen trapped in the bubble of air. Our knowledge of the bell is limited because De Marchi gave Guillaume his word that he would never reveal its secrets. He was especially careful to conceal how Guillaume made it possible for the diver to flush carbon dioxide from the bell and not have water enter. The secret technology sounds like a oneway valve. The bell began with oak staves shaped into a round form that De Marchi likened to a pot or bucket. Six hoops of iron and one of lead held the staves in place. The lead hoop also supplied ballast. Guillaume caulked the bell on the outside with pitch and then added a coating of tallow to insure it was waterproof. It had a crystal viewing port that enhanced the diver’s visibility and magnified objects. Inside, there were a pair of features to accommodate the diver. Two “irons” ( ferri) rested on the diver’s shoulders to prevent his head from banging into the top, while a harness kept the diver “on horseback” (a cavallo). The harness had a quick release mechanism so that, in an emergency, the diver could get out. Attaching the diver to the bell built in a safety factor: the bell would not float up to the surface without him. Guillaume designed the length to assure that the diver’s lower arms could operate freely below the rim. The technology was meant to facilitate work underwater. De Marchi finally emphasized the role of proper ballasting for the bell. Out of water, it was too heavy for one person to carry. In the water, with a pocket of air trapped within, it weighed less than 18 kg. De Marchi described the operation of the bell in theory and practice. The bell needed a support raft equipped with a windlass manned by a small crew. The closed end of the bell had three iron chains that converged in the middle at an iron ring. A strong hawser ran from the ring to the windlass. The surface crew cranked the windlass to raise the bell. The diver underwater and the tender on the raft each had the end of a signal line tied to his wrist. Using a prearranged signal, the diver tugged on the line to indicate that he wanted to surface. Alternatively, he could release himself from the harness and swim up. The redundant way to surface emphasizes once again the organic connection between swimming and free-diving. A bell diver who did not know how to swim nullified the backup system and had to surface inside. In the water, the bell had to remain straight up and down. The single hoop of lead at the open end aided vertical orientation. The crew dropped a line weighted by a stone into the search area. On the bottom, the diver was advised not to wander far from the down line. Lowering the bell slowly toward the target helped to keep

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it in an upright position. If the bell tipped and fell, the diver could only save himself if he swam well. De Marchi estimated that a diver with the bell had a bottom time of anywhere from one to two hours. He boldly, and mistakenly, claimed that depth did not affect bottom time. In reality, as depth increased, pressure increased and the volume of air in the bell proportionately decreased. While inside, the diver could eat. For De Marchi, the key limit to diving was body temperature. The body parts immersed in water experienced cold that became menacing, while the parts in the bell experienced heat that became stifling. Even before the work at lago di Nemi, Guillaume de Lorraine had established that the bell was practical. At Civitavecchia just north of Rome, Guillaume dived to a sunken galley and salvaged some guns. Guillaume also managed to pinpoint the place where the galley’s hull had given out, causing it to founder. Experience taught some helpful lessons. First, Guillaume determined that the bell worked well in calm seas but became dangerous in rough ones. That lesson confirmed the principle that the bell had to remain as vertical as possible. Second, the diver’s psychology affected his performance. Guillaume discovered his fear that sea creatures might attack him. He felt safer in a lake. Guillaume was the first to dive on the sunken ship in lago di Nemi. Prior to diving, Guillaume used a homemade remedy to protect his ears. He plugged them with raw cotton soaked in an aromatic substance like musk. The remedy may have worsened the problem if the cotton fit tightly inside the ear canal. The increasing pressure as Guillaume descended would force the cotton inward against his ear drum. While exploring the wreck, Guillaume did release himself from the harness and then swim back into the bell. However, he did not risk penetrating the structures on board. Guillaume then turned his invention over to De Marchi. De Marchi made two dives that day, and they produced markedly different results. Though Guillaume offered to plug De Marchi’s ears with the soaked cotton, he decided to dive without it. Because De Marchi had witnessed a diving fisherman expire in the Arno after snagging his drawers, he removed his own. He did wear clothing on his upper body and elected to dive in style by donning a silk cap of light crimson color and fitted with white feathers. Both decisions supplied further data about bell diving once De Marchi came up. He found that the visibility was good because the sun was out. Diving on a cloudy day would lessen the range. De Marchi realized that the crystal port magnified the objects he saw when he thought that he was trapped amid giant nipping smelt. They did not prove to be giant: the one he brought to the surface was the length of a finger. They did nip, particularly when De Marchi ate a snack of dried black bread. The crumbs fell near his drawerless groin, and the fish moved in. That paled

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before the problems that De Marchi experienced when he could not equalize the pressure on his ears. He described the pain as if one had thrust a stiletto into one ear until it came out the other. He ruptured his ear drum, forcing him to surface after only a half hour. Once out of the bell, his blood-soaked tunic confirmed the injury. However, the tunic had remained dry for the length of a brazzo (c. 0.6 m), and the stylish cap was completely dry. Between dives, De Marchi went for a swim in the lake. That proved his mastery of the art and relieved the pain in his ears. They did continue to ring for twenty days after the diving, further confirmation of the injury. For his second dive, De Marchi donned drawers and used the soaked cotton that Guillaume recommended. Having ruptured his ear drum, equalizing was no longer a factor. He doubled his bottom time to one hour. While exploring the wreck, De Marchi toyed with the idea of penetrating its structures. He planned to exit the bell with a line that he would use to guide himself back. But he thought better of the plan when he almost tumbled down a stairway. The two engineers decided that the wreck would have to be dismantled prior to recovery. De Marchi pronounced Guillaume’s diving bell an ingenious invention. In general, it permitted the diver to work with his arms and perform a variety of operations. He could saw, cut, hammer, and tie cords. The bell supplied assistance for salvage diving. It allowed the diver to explore the bottom through his viewing port, locate an object that cannot be seen or touched from the surface, and tie a rope around the object so that it can then be recovered. The salvage of the guns from the galley sunk in the harbor of Civitavecchia exemplified its worth. The bell also assisted archaeological diving. Guillaume and De Marchi managed to recover two mule-loads of wood and other materials from the ship. Once brought to the surface, De Marchi took all the artifacts to Rome for further study by resident experts. Visual observation added to the material evidence. The ship had structures on board that De Marchi inferred were the rooms of a palace. No expense was spared when decorating. Greater autonomy underwater allowed Guillaume and De Marchi to take the first steps toward mapping the wreck. Their intention to do so may well explain their invitation to Leonardo Bufalini to come along with them. A military engineer who worked on Rome’s fortifications, Bufalini produced an ichnographic map of Rome published by Antonio Blado in 1551. Bufalini built upon principles first elaborated by Alberti for situating Rome’s monuments in space, he represented a nautical compass among tools used in drafting the map, and he took care in noting all his measurements.27 Bufalini seems a likely creator of the methods used to determine the extent of 27

See, e.g., Maier, 77–115.

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the ship’s remains. The methods required collaboration. The diver underwater contributed by fixing lines to the accessible extremities toward the bow and stern and then to its sides amidships. The diver also took direct measurements on the wreck for the ship’s depth in hold. Once one end of a line was fixed to the exposed bow and stern or to the port and starboard sides, the other was brought to the surface. The surface crew tightened the lines till plumb and then took a measurement of the distance between them. They also measured the length of the two lines attached to the sides. They used the difference in length to gauge the vessel’s heeling on the bottom. The measurements yielded a length for the ship of approximately 52 m and a beam of approximately 26 m. The 52-m length is a distinct improvement on Pius II’s note that it was greater than 8.9 m. The ship had a total length around 70 m and a beam around 20 m. Guillaume and De Marchi did not attempt to excavate the vessel. According to their measurements, in 1535, approximately 70% of the ship’s hull was exposed on the bottom. The measurements obtained and materials recovered suggest that the diving continued beyond the first day.28 Like their ancient counterparts, Renaissance divers worked on salvage, conducted naval operations, assisted in the construction and maintenance of public works, and collected marketable marine creatures. To the traditional tasks, Renaissance divers added a new one by assisting the work of archaeology under water. For two centuries, the physicians and engineers of the Renaissance had designed technology to assist swimming and diving. By the sixteenth century a military engineer had invented a viable one-person diving bell that was utilized for salvage at Civitavecchia and archaeology at lago di Nemi. 3

Science, Mathematics, and Italian Salvage Companies

Italian companies excelled in underwater salvage, and the competition for contracts encouraged mathematicians and engineers to publish their methods for accomplishing the task. The mechanics of salvage employed two traditional sources of lifting force: muscle power and buoyancy. In 1550, Girolamo Cardano (1501–76) endorsed the durable system whereby salvors utilized the buoyancy of boat hulls to raise a sunken object. Cardano’s method was traditional, but he offered a scientific explanation for its effectiveness. He posited that a small cushion of air was trapped beneath the lifting boats once they were ballasted low in the water. When the stones were removed, the surrounding air rushed back into the hull and, with the assistance of the air cushion 28

See, e.g., Eliav.

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pushing up from underneath, the air onboard lifted the boat hulls and the captured wreckage. Divers (urinatores), by handling the lines underwater, played an integral role in the operation.29 Niccolò Tartaglia (c. 1499–1557) was a rival of Cardano. Their rivalry turned rancorous in 1545, when Cardano plagiarized Tartaglia’s solution to cubic equations. Tartaglia tried to one-up his loathed colleague in 1551 by publishing two works on salvage, The Tormented Invention (La travagliata invenzione) and clarifications about the invention in his Arguments (Ragionamenti). Tartaglia wanted the contract to salvage a vessel that had recently sunk near the harbor entrance to Venice at Malamocco. Any blockage was of grave concern to the government.30 Tartaglia designed his methods primarily for shallow waters like Malamocco, though he did indicate ways to adapt the methods to deepwater salvage. Unlike Cardano, who based his method on the use of several small boats, Tartaglia proposed using full-sized hulls as lifting pontoons. As theoretical support, Tartaglia adduced three scientific principles. For Tartaglia, the applicable laws stated that objects in water were subject to the forces of gravity and buoyancy, that nature abhorred a vacuum, and that all materials had a specific gravity affecting their weight in water. He built great flexibility into his basic method, allowing for variables such as the depth of the water in which the ship sank, the cargo the ship was carrying, and the size of the lifting hulls available for the operation.31 Tartaglia did not make explicit the contribution of free-divers to his salvage methods. But he implied their contribution in ensuring that his innovative lifting cradle of anchors and hawsers function properly. Divers would assist by assuring that the cradle encircled the wreck, by moving the anchors next to the sunken hull, and by checking that each fluke bit into the hull while all the lines stood clear. Before the divers could do any of those tasks related to salvage, they had to pinpoint the location of the wreck. Despite anticipating ridicule by free-divers already doing exemplary work underwater, Tartaglia decided to offer his own ideas on a technology that would aid their salvage work. Tartaglia designed an apparatus that would permit a diver to work underwater for an extended period. It resembled the upper half of an oversize hourglass. The glassmakers of Murano had to manufacture a crystal sphere at least two feet in diameter and leave an opening of approximately one foot on the 29 Cardano, fols. 10v–11v, cited in Iommi Echeverría, 482–84. 30 Tartaglia, 1551a, 1551b. See, e.g., A. Keller, 604–05, 607–09; Iommi Echeverría, 484–88; Pizzamiglio, 5, 62–64, 141–44; and Saiber. 31 Tartaglia Travagliata Invenzione 1.1, 1.9, 1551a, Sig. Ai(r–v), Biv–Ci; and Tartaglia Ragionamenti 2, 1551b, Sig. Dii. See also ibid., Sig. Biv (his Italian translation of the law of buoyancy in Archimedes); and Iommi Echeverría, 488–91.

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sphere’s bottom. Tartaglia calculated the size of the opening to make it easy for a diver to insert his head. Then the builder needed two circles of wood slightly larger than the diameter of the glass sphere. He also needed four thin posts slightly longer than the average man’s height. The builder joined the wood circles and thin beams to form a small chamber. The apparatus needed a ring on top so that the crew could hoist it out of the water. The builder fixed the glass sphere under the upper circle of wood, its opening down. He should ballast the apparatus in two ways. A piece of lead the size of the lower circle of wood was attached below it. The machine was properly ballasted for surface operations when it was positively buoyant and most of the glass sphere remained out of the water. Next, the builder had to drill a hole the size of a coin through the lead and wood. He ran one end of a line through that hole and fixed it inside the framework while the other end remained outside and had a small ball of lead attached to it.32 Tartaglia gave instructions on how to use the apparatus in the water. When the team reached the search area, they should drop the lead ball and its line to the bottom and immerse the apparatus. Because most of the glass sphere remained out of the water, a diver who was a good swimmer could make his way to the apparatus and insert his head into the sphere. The diver and his support team should be careful not to move the chamber out of vertical. In an upright position, the sphere supplied the diver a surfeit of breaths (molte & molte fiade). The diver descended in a controlled fashion by pulling in the cord with the lead weight. As soon as the weight clears the bottom, the apparatus goes down until the weight again touches bottom. Tartaglia added the small weight to shift the apparatus from slightly positive to slightly negative buoyancy. When the diver reached the bottom, he had an excellent field of vision through the glass sphere. He could now address his task, pinpointing and buoying the location of the wreck or object to be salvaged. To ascend, the diver let out the rope to the ball of lead.33 Tartaglia offered alternatives to the basic blueprint. If you cannot purchase a glass sphere, you can use other materials (wood, copper, lead), you can recycle existing materials (box, jar), and you can adapt the shape from sphere to square, understanding that, for a box shape manufactured from nontransparent materials, you need four viewing ports. Tartaglia also envisioned a well-endowed salvage company commissioning the Murano workers to make a glass sphere large enough for a diver to sit or stand inside. The monster sphere meant that you could also install a crank to raise or lower the line with the 32 Tartaglia Travagliata Invenzione 2.1, 1551a, Sig. Civ(v)–Di. 33 Tartaglia Travagliata Invenzione 2.2, 1551a, Sig. Di(v).

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control ball of lead.34 In addition to extending a diver’s bottom time, the diving machine offered further advantages. A competent swimmer-diver can exit the apparatus to work on a nearby sunken object. He would then return to the apparatus to draw more of its abundant breaths. A diver can also prepare the object for recovery. For a shipwreck, that would include arranging Tartaglia’s anchor and noose cradle.35 The workers involved in recovery operations at Venice were employees of the Arsenal who had long served as salvage divers. They tried to raise a galleon that sank in 1559 about five miles from Venice. The wreck lay at a depth of 12.4 m (7 Venetian passi). After various government efforts to raise the galleon failed, Bartolomeo Campi da Pesaro (d. 1573) proposed a new plan for its salvage and convinced the magistrates to make one more try. Rather than use existing hulls that would be stripped and employed for the lift, Campi proposed building two pine caissons with six compartments that could be flooded to sink them next to the wreck. For the lift, pumps would empty the water from those compartments. The buoyant caissons would bring the wreck to the surface. As a work platform, Campi built a timber scaffold on top of the caissons. The scaffold had pumps for emptying the caissons and winches to supplement the lift they provided. The divers attached hooks to the galleon and laced ropes through its gun ports. The bottom times and possibility of eating underwater indicate that the divers worked in a bell like that of Guillaume de Lorraine or a bell that could accommodate more than one diver. The divers managed to help to fix approximately 250 iron screw-eyes to the wreck and run ropes through each. A giant spanner, a tool with jaws to grasp and turn the hooks, worked the screw into the wood of the wrecked hull. While colleagues on boats could operate the spanner, divers would guide the jaws of the spanner into the eye of each screw. Two days later, in calm weather, the crew flooded the caissons and lowered them to the bottom. Problems began immediately as the strain of the water’s weight inside the caisson compartments made one of them buckle. Even more serious problems occurred during the attempted lift. Though the pumps functioned and successfully jetted water from both caissons, the caissons leaked so badly that the pumps could not get ahead of the entering water. The salvage had to be aborted.36 Italian companies practiced salvage across Europe. Their owners knew where to find excellent free-divers at minimal cost to the business. The English 34 Tartaglia Travagliata Invenzione 2.3–5, 1551a, Sig. Di(v)–Diii. 35 Tartaglia Travagliata Invenzione 2.5, 1551a, Sig. Diii. 36 A. Keller, 610–17.

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first tried and failed to raise Mary Rose after she sank off Southampton in 1545. They then hired the Venetian business partners, Piero de Andreasi and Simone de Marini. The businessmen employed a Venetian crew consisting of two professional salvage divers, thirty diving sailors, and one carpenter. When that crew was insufficient, the English government contributed sixty sailors. Two different attempts to raise the hull failed, and the salvors only managed to recover rigging elements. For yet another attempt, the English engaged the firm of the Venetian Pier Paolo Corsi. The contract specified that Corsi was to focus on recovering the ship’s guns. The fact that he continued to receive payment over a period of years suggests that he had a measure of success. His diving crew featured five Guinean slaves, among whom we know the names of John Ito, George Blake, and Jacques Francis (Jaques Frauncys). Jacques Francis was brought to Southampton to work for Corsi because he was rated a better diver than the company’s other African slaves. Francis was born on Arguin Island near the Mauritanian coast of West Africa. The Portuguese had seized control of the island in 1445 and used a factory there to assemble black slaves for market. Francis had likely been trained as a pearl diver on the dangerous reefs near his home. Sometime between July and September 1547, while working on Mary Rose, Corsi’s firm was also retained to salvage an Italian vessel named Sancta Maria et Sanctus Edwardus. That vessel had burned at anchor after taking on cargo. The salvage contract for Sancta Maria et Sanctus Edwardus eventually ended in a lawsuit. In February 1548, the suit offered Jacques Francis a chance to appear in the High Court of the Admiralty and give testimony. The Italians conducted a lengthy campaign of legal objection and character assassination to prevent a black Muslim slave from taking the stand. His racial inferiority combined with his religious infidelity meant that his oath could not be trusted. The Admiralty Court overruled those objections, even though the Court had no precedent to guide it. The Court chose a path of pragmatic tolerance. The judge characterized the grounds of ethnic difference as irrelevant and dismissed that objection. It was appropriate to obtain the testimony of a specialist laborer, particularly one who had contributed to salvaging Mary Rose. However, the deposition was treated as a one-time exception. It set no precedent for later hearings. Francis’s mastery of the art of free-diving allowed him to become the first African slave to testify in an English courtroom.37

37

Ungerer; and Childs, 190–92.

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Globalization

Jacques Francis was hardly unique among Africans of the Early Modern era for his skill in swimming and free-diving. A pair of stories from Genoa confirms African mastery of the related arts and suggests that Europeans had fallen behind. Paolo Giovio (1483/86–1552) wrote a short book on fishes of the Roman world that was published at Rome in 1524. Giovio described two fearsome sea creatures who attacked swimmers. He gave less attention to the dogfish (canicula) because Pliny had treated it thoroughly. Giovio focused instead on a colossal ray (bos), whose name derived from the Greek word for bull (bous). The giant ray unveiled its wide body during not infrequent visits to the ports and shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Its languid movement and calculated guile lulled swimmers into a false sense of security. Giovio shared a story that he had heard more than once from Cardinal Bandinello Sauli (d. 1518). While growing up in Genoa, Sauli and his friends went for a swim in the city’s harbor. On his own, Sauli ventured a short distance into the open sea and there came upon a bull-ray. The sea was extraordinarily calm that day which made the monster easy to spot. When Sauli saw it, he panicked. He found his arms failing him and struggled to regain his stroke. He remembered that the art of swimming had almost altogether abandoned him, and he barely escaped back to the harbor. The future cardinal turned out to be more fortunate than a fellow protagonist in Giovio’s account. The unnamed individual was a black African (Aethiops), who was such an accomplished free-diver that the Genoese employed him to train young people in the art of swimming (ars natandi). During one lesson in open waters, a bull-ray approached the students and immediately caused terror. The African swam as strenuously as he could in the direction of the ray. Giovio guessed that he did so either to reassure the students that the ray posed no threat or to get a close look at the marvelous creature. If the swim instructor sought to reassure, he failed miserably because the ray swallowed the diver in a single gulp (devorasse). Nothing remained on the surface but a bloody froth.38 In an account featuring the absurd feat of a ray swallowing a human whole, Giovio offered helpful information on swimming at Genoa and the important role that Africans filled in teaching the Genoese to swim. Swimming was considered an art (ars), and there were courses for adolescents. Bandinello Sauli came from a wealthy family of silk merchants, but we do not know the social status of the other learners. The training was good enough that Sauli did not feel restricted to the safer waters of the harbor. There were official swim 38 Giovio De Romanis piscibus 3 (De Romanis piscibus libellus, Sig. B2v–B3). See, e.g., Price Zimmermann, 14–16, 64.

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instructors in the city, and parents availed themselves of their services to help their children confront the dangers of living near the sea and traveling on it. Swim instructors could establish their credentials by their skill at free-diving. The Genoese valued the combination. And the only instructor explicitly described was a black African. That corroborates evidence from England that sixteenth-century Europeans exploited black Africans for their swimming and diving abilities. It speaks well of the character of the unnamed African that parents would have him instruct their children and that his first instinct was to protect them when the ray approached. The expanding arenas of ocean navigation, classical scholarship, and mechanical engineering promoted free-diving all over the world. In 1618, divers petitioned the royal government of Portugal for a permit to recover bronze guns from shipwrecks in front of the fortress of São Julião da Barra. The fortress guarded the entrance to the Tagus River near Lisbon. Among the ships wrecked there was the Nossa Senhora dos Mártires, a nau returning from India with a cargo of pepper in 1606.39 Free-divers traveled the globe on Portuguese as well as Spanish vessels. Dom João de Castro (1500–48) included accounts of Portuguese voyages in his hybrid roteiros, illustrated guides to navigation and safe anchorage based upon his voyages from Lisbon to Goa (1538), from Goa to Diu (1538–39), and from Goa to Suez (1541). Castro used divers to confirm his theory that the Red Sea got its name from the surface tinge produced by a carpet of red coral along its bottom. Sprigs of red coral are only one of several biological and environmental factors that together explain why humans have long characterized that sea for its tint.40 In Venice, Pietro Bembo described what he had heard about pearl divers in the Americas. They operated from Cumana on the mainland of contemporary Venezuela and from the islands of Cubagua nearby and Terarequi in the Gulf of Panama. The divers were so at home in the sea that Bembo claimed they could remain underwater for thirty minutes. Bembo was on more solid ground in contending that the divers harvested an abundance of pearls for Spain’s sovereigns, who insisted on the first fifth of the profits in return for a license. Reliable estimates indicate that at least one billion oysters were harvested off the South American coast in the first thirty years of the sixteenth century. The harvest subsidized in Europe what is sometimes called the “Great Age of Pearls.” Bembo connected the swimming ability of the indigenous peoples and their specialized diving for pearls. Both men and women were trained at an 39 40

Vieira de Castro, 77–78. Castro, 1833, 257–61. For ancient and Renaissance theories, see Strabo 16.3.5, 16.4.20; and Falchetta, 99–100. See, e.g., Dareste, 263–67; and Krumbein, 18–24.

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early age in swimming, and most became proficient. The general population of skilled swimmers provided a pool of candidates for use as divers.41 Columbus brought back exemplars of New World pearls on his third voyage. Europeans would no longer have to obtain pearls from the Muslim merchants of the Middle East. In the Caribbean, Spaniards first obtained pearls in exchange for food and trinkets but quickly organized a pearl fishing industry that brought human exploitation and ecological damage in its wake. For the diving, the Spanish colonists employed the forced labor of indigenous peoples, starting with those living in the immediate vicinity of the pearl banks. The expanding circle of raids attests to the cost to the workers. When the locals no longer sufficed, Spaniards turned to the Lucayos of the Bahamas. Renowned as swimmer-divers, the Lucayos mastered free-diving to obtain food, not to harvest pearls. Their favored quarry were conch shells. The Spaniards next conscripted the Caribs of the Lesser Antilles, and finally they moved into the South American mainland. Already in 1518, Charles I approved a petition to introduce African slaves as pearl divers. In 1558 a royal decree ended the use of indigenous laborers for the industry and dictated that only enslaved Africans be utilized. The scale of fishing increased as the pool of forced laborers expanded. In the early days, crews of 8–10 Indians fished the pearl grounds in open boats; in the days of African slavery, much larger numbers of divers worked the grounds from full-masted ships. The merchants who sold African slaves to Spanish pearl entrepreneurs added to their profits because the Spaniards paid in pearls. After resale, the pearls were worth a further 12% return on the investment. When myopic overfishing caused profits to decline, Spanish speculators shifted to slaving.42 The pearl divers of South America used straightforward equipment to collect oysters. They dived naked, tied a net around their waist or neck, and, in deeper waters, used a pair of stone weights to speed their descent. According to the Spanish chronicler Fernández de Oviedo (1478–1557), they laced the large stones together with a cord and slung them over their shoulders.43 On 41 Pietro Bembo Historia veneta 6.9–10 (History of Venice, 2008, 2:96–99). See, e.g., Méndez-Arocha, 29–40, 153–54, 206; and Donkin, 276–334. 42 Mosk; Perri, 129–39, http://www.environmentandsociety.org/node/3371; and Warsh, 517–31. 43 Oviedo Sumario 84 (Sumario de la natural historia de las Indias, 1950, 265): “… en esto proveen los indios, con echarse sobre los lomos dos piedras, una al un costado, y otra al otro, asidas de una cuerda, y él en medio, y déjase ir para abajo, y como las piedras son pesadas, hácenle estar debajo en el suelo quedo, pero cuando le parece y quiere subirse, fácilmente puede desechar las piedras y salirse.”

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the bottom they used their hands to rip oysters from the beds and deposited the shells in their net. The receptacle may have had some sort of weight to counteract its positive buoyancy until the oysters did the job. Tied to a line, the net was retrieved by the boat crew while the diver made his way back to the surface to rest. Retrieval by the crew was part of a system of controls the Spanish colonists imposed to safeguard the catch. Many boats had an overseer on board, and another one on shore met every boat. The shells were only opened in the presence of a government official so that he could prevent theft of an easily concealed pearl. At times, the Spaniards warehoused the catch and only opened the shells when the warehouse had reached capacity. New World free-divers reportedly worked at depths reaching 27–30 m. They labored strenuously for minimal rewards. Between periods of diving, they were given alcohol and tobacco, harmful to their general health and diving abilities. At night they were often locked up in stocks. Bartolomé de Las Casas decried that pearl divers had to work without rest and were poorly nourished on a diet of cod and cornbread. The labor itself brought severe risks. Divers who tried to hold on to a boat and rest were beaten and forced back under the water, two species of shark attacked divers, and continual exposure to cold caused pneumonia or diarrhea.44 A court case involving a Milanese merchant resident in Seville named Luigi da Lampugnano revealed facets of the damage to the environment and its potential to undermine the industry. The case began when the Italian merchant received a license from the Crown to work the pearl beds with a tool called a rake (rastro). The initiative marked a transfer of technology from coral fishing to pearl fishing. For centuries, Europeans had collected coral using a dredge called the Saint Andrew’s Cross. Luigi wanted to introduce a similar dredge on the pearl banks of South America. The initiative reflected the broader cultural attitude of the Medieval West to embrace mechanical technologies that reduced the need for human labor. The Spanish colonists petitioned the Crown to ban the use of the dredge in those waters. Opposition to the initiative reflected the concern of those engaged in pearling for the deleterious impact of accelerated fishing on the complex underwater ecology. The colonists particularly objected to the rapid depletion of oyster stocks, which required years to repopulate. They argued that removing free-divers from the collection of oysters deprived the fisheries of the human expertise on which its success depended. The specific contributions of human divers reflect a broader appreciation among the indigenous peoples for the delicate balance between a complex ecology and human 44

Las Casas, 99–101. See, e.g., Delbourgo, 159–63.

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actors. The dredge simply ripped through the terrain, collecting everything in its path. It raked the bottom clean. Human divers, by contrast, selectively collected only grown oysters and left younger ones on the bank to mature. They likewise monitored the condition of the sea grasses that played a crucial role in the reproductive activities of the oysters. The colonists even argued that skilled free-divers could detect from their boats the noise that oysters made. They compared it to a snuffling sound of hogs searching for acorns. Once the divers heard the noise, they were confident that they had come upon a rich oyster bed.45 The results of the litigation reflected the broader disadvantages of Spanish top-down administration in the New World. The colonists won a victory in court. Luigi da Lampugnano had his grant amended for work only in deeper waters, and eventually the Crown revoked his license altogether. The Crown adopted laws to protect the viability of the pearl banks and the divers who harvested them. Those laws specified the working depths for divers, the maximum duration of their work shifts, and the amount of rest they must be granted. In an empire where laws were made in Spain and communication required weeks, the colonists often ignored legal strictures. Exploiting the divers assured quick profits. Despite knowing the lengthy rhythms of oyster breeding, opportunists in the pearling industry continued to overfish the fragile banks. In the long run, they did grave damage to their livelihood and the environment.46 In the second half of the sixteenth century, the Spanish Crown licensed the use of mechanized devices to harvest oysters. The small capitalist enterprise of the South American pearl banks has paradigmatic features of an economic system fueled by consumption. Myopia trumped any long-term considerations, hustling profits depended primarily on exploiting the labor force, and the delicate ecology paid a severe price in terms of wanton damage, even though the Crown did not at first permit dredging. The rush to replace thinking human laborers with a destructive mechanical technology was driven by the hope of greater earnings in a shorter span of time. The pearl banks never fully recovered, and the islands and mainland settlements housing Spanish colonists involved in pearl fishing became ghost towns. Two features emerge from the evidence for the practice of swimming and free-diving during the European Renaissance. First, despite humanist advocacy of the classical ideal that swimming regain equal importance with Latin grammar, Renaissance Europeans lagged in swimming and free-diving. The fact that Europeans acknowledged indigenous Americans and black Africans 45 Otte; and Warsh, 531–39. 46 K. Dawson, 2005–06, 1329–46; and K. Dawson, 2009, 92–95, 97–98, 104–05, 108–11.

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as better swimmers and divers reflected a diminished diffusion of the two arts among white Europeans. Genoa’s only known swimming instructor was a black African, and the first African slave allowed to testify in an English court was a black Guinean diver. Their presence in textual records confirms that Africans were highly skilled swimmers and divers. Italian salvage companies employed them, and Europeans bought them to work the South American pearl banks after they had exhausted the pool of local indigenous swimmers. Second, both Francesco De Marchi and Niccolò Tartaglia recognized that swimming supported diving. A good swimmer using a diving apparatus had distinct advantages. That was particularly true for the autonomy a competent swimmer-diver attained underwater. He could leave and return to a diving bell. The two Italian scientists intuited that the future of diving lay in the development of viable new technologies. In the three centuries that followed De Marchi’s expedition of 1535, the technology for allowing humans to work underwater focused on the diving bell. The apparatus of Guillaume de Lorraine was a progenitor.47 Ideas for supplying air to a diver through a hose from the surface stalled before two obstacles. The system needed a pump to force air down and, as Guillaume figured out, it needed a way to carry off the carbon dioxide that the diver exhaled. Without a pump, a diver could not use a hose to descend more than a half-meter. At a greater depth he would find it physically impossible to draw air down from the surface. The concept was a dead end. Four years after Percey’s translation of Digby appeared, Robert Boyle began to put diving on the sound foundation of experimental physics. Boyle discovered the law that, at constant temperature, the volume of an ideal gas is inversely proportional to the pressure.48 Subsequent physicists added further discoveries to the patrimony of gas laws, medical research acquired an increasingly sophisticated understanding of the effects of diving on human physiology, and the sufferings of caisson workers and helmet divers in the nineteenth century demonstrated the need to understand both in order to dive safely. In the centuries after the Renaissance, the cachet of the free-diver declined due to technologies like the diving bell, the surface-supplied helmet suit, and the self-contained underwater breathing apparatus known by its acronym scuba. But through the lively narration of generations of Sicilians and Neapolitans, the myth of the merman Cola Pesce lived on. In the late nineteenth century, when living in Naples, Benedetto Croce heard an oral version from his coachman. Croce learned that Cola allowed huge fish going his way to swallow him. When the transport fish reached Cola’s stop, he cut open its stomach. To 47 48

See, e.g., Triewald, 7–26; Earle, 31–38, 169–76, 193–96, 249–55; and Delbourgo, 168–76. See, e.g., Mallinckrodt.

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answer the questions his sovereign posed, the uniquely talented diver would pass several days exploring underwater. Cola showed the king handfuls of gemstones that filled the mysterious caves of Castel dell’Ovo. He conferred good and bad news about the way that Sicily supported itself. The island rested on three enormous columns, but one was cracked. The worst news of all came when Cola accepted the king’s challenge to retrieve a cannon ball from depths never reached before. The diving hero and his tale, aggrandized by an inspired coachman, reached their abrupt ending.49 49 B. Croce, 266–68.

Conclusion 1

Proverbial Ignorance in the Classical World

It is hardly surprising that the Greeks and Romans considered illiteracy a sign of grinding ignorance. Every civilized society shares that conviction. It may come as a surprise to learn that, to characterize ignorance, the ancients paired illiteracy with not knowing how to swim. An educated citizen should learn grammar and swimming in childhood. By the time that Plato drafted the Laws shortly before his death in 348/347 BCE, the ideal was axiomatic. Proverbial wisdom stems from popular reasoning, finds expression in easily recalled formulation, and passes orally from generation to generation. It is not important to know who first said a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but it is important to have a bird in hand. Proverbs in the ancient Mediterranean were primarily the work of the Greeks. The Romans followed the Greeks and created fewer adages of their own. Much of what passed into Latin collections of proverbs was a translation of the Greek original. The proverb on ignorance as “neither letters nor swimming” is a good example. The Greeks elaborated the maxim, and the Romans endorsed it. Seneca cited the proverb in its original Greek form around 40 CE, quoting a bon mot of Asilius Sabinus, who assured Antonia that her son Domitius Ahenobarbus was not utterly ignorant. Sabinus granted that Domitius did almost nothing as consul. Nonetheless, because Domitius added a bath complex to his home and ran imaginary speeches by influential politicians, he likely mastered swimming and grammar. Some thirty years later, Licinius Mucianus (d. after 75 CE) trotted out the proverb to mock the pretensions of philosophers opposed to the succession of Titus. While those philosophers boasted of their courage, morality, and wisdom, they may not even know letters nor how to swim. Around 120, Suetonius celebrated Augustus for teaching his grandsons letters and swimming. Forty years later, the orator Aelius Aristides used the proverb when defending the reputation of legendary Athenian leaders. Aristides brought matters full circle because he felt a need to defend the founding fathers after Plato had disparaged them in the Gorgias. In late antiquity Eunapius used the saying to insult the sycophantic posturing of Maximus of Ephesus. His wife’s mastery of philosophy showed him to be the one ignorant of letters and swimming. As the elaboration of proverbs was fundamentally a Greek achievement, so the transmission of ancient proverbial wisdom was fundamentally a project of Byzantine Greek scholarship. Around 900, scholars in Constantinople

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assembled a corpus of proverbs that served as the basis for subsequent compilations. Their compendium brought together three previous anthologies. It consisted of excerpts from the Greek sophist Zenobius, a collection of Alexandrian proverbs ascribed to Plutarch but probably put together by Seleucus Homericus (first cent. CE), and another collection wrongly attributed to the second-century grammarian Diogenianus. A succession of encyclopedic resources followed, extracting proverbs from that original mine. They included the Suda in the tenth century, Gregory of Cyprus in the thirteenth century, Makarios Chrysokephalos in the fourteenth century, and Michael Apostolios in the fifteenth century. Erasmus then brought a vast number of ancient proverbs together for a Latin audience in his various editions of the Adages.1 The anthologies of Pseudo-Diogenianus, the Suda, and Michael Apostolios included the proverb on ignorance in its Greek formulation and put swimming first: μήτε νεῖν μήτε γράμματα. The compilers explained that the proverb referred to the ignorant as those who had not learned everything (amathōn ta panta). They attributed its origins to the Athenians. From childhood (ek paidōn), Athenians received instruction in swimming and letters; they were expected to master both. Maximus Planudes (c. 1255–1305), in a scholion on the Progymnasmata of Aphthonius, offered a rationale. The Athenians taught letters so that their children understand the laws, and they taught swimming so that their children be ready to fight naval battles. Both disciplines enriched the life of the polis. Humanist scholarship of the Renaissance restored the proverb to prominence. Leon Battista Alberti noted that Cato the Elder took pride in teaching his son letters and swimming. He cast Cato’s pedagogy in the mold of the proverb. Erasmus awarded the saying an entry in the Adages. He cited Plato, Suetonius, and Aristides. The Dutch humanist commented that the saying referred to one who was exceedingly ignorant because grammar and swimming were the first two skills taught to children in antiquity. Learning those skills was a universal value, endorsed by Athenians and Romans alike. Nicolaus Wynman cited the proverb in Greek and underlined that his contemporaries still used it to denigrate ignorance. Girolamo Mercuriale interpreted the proverb to mean that the ancients had an almost unbelievable appreciation for swimming. He regretted that his own age was less enthused about the art. As headmaster of an Elizabethan grammar school, Richard Mulcaster cited the saying, perhaps to attract students to a school that included both skills in its core curriculum.

1 See, e.g., Böck, Hoffmann, and Damschen, “Proverbs;” and Damschen, “Paroimiographoi,” in BNP, http://dx.doi.org/.

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Renaissance scholars appreciated the insight that the proverb offered into the educational ideals of ancient Greece and Rome. Joseph Russo has characterized Greek proverbs as “stating a general truth that everyone would accept as important and useful to recall, and, because of this antiquity and accuracy of insight, sanctioned or almost ‘sanctified’ by the culture as wisdom of the elders that must be taken seriously.”2 The ancients took seriously the need to know how to swim. But the Greeks and Romans were less forthcoming on their ways of achieving the goal. Societies that reach a high degree of literacy furnish public support through sponsored institutions like grammar schools. We have limited evidence on who trained children to swim in antiquity and where they conducted that training. More than once, ancient sources characterized swimming as an art. As such, it would have benefitted from conceptualization. It needed rules for instruction, and it required the learner to practice the instructions in safe conditions. No ancient manual for the art of swimming has survived. The formulation of the proverb on letters and swimming, its inclusion in the anthologies, and its recovery in the Renaissance as part of a cultural embrace of classical standards prodded two Renaissance scholars to compose dialogues to fill the gap. The dialogues were structured as interactions between an elder skilled practitioner of swimming and an eager young learner. They comprise the oldest known manuals on swim instruction in the Western world. 2

The Legacy of Antiquity

2.1 The Ancient Legacy: General Once proverbial wisdom granted swimming a place beside grammar in education, it became a measure for civilization. Stereotypical barbarians could not swim. In Athens Timotheus went onstage to portray at excruciating length a barbarian drowning at Salamis. Born in eastern Syria at the frontier of the Roman Empire, Lucian demolished the stereotype by having the Scythians swim well and utilize their skill to save others. The Romans seemed less ideological about swimming. They rated themselves better swimmers than others but acknowledged the skill of their barbarian enemies in handling watery terrain, particularly marshes. Plato gave subtle indications that by his day the Greeks had conceptualized swimming as an art. Splitting hairs, Plato granted that swimming should be considered an art because it saved lives, but he derided those who overvalued the skill. When listing leisure activities treated in didactic poetry, Ovid included the art of swimming. Tacitus used the Latin 2 Russo, 1983, 121. See also Russo, 1997, 52–55.

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phrase an art of swimming (ars nandi), and Sextus Empiricus used the same phrase in Greek (technē nēktikē). The ancients intended to teach swimming to children. Swimming was one way to introduce a sense of the rigors of life. In the Aeneid the Trojans landed on the shores of a people who steeled their infants from birth to handle the frigid waters of local rivers. According to a Greek epigram, German fathers assured their paternity by tossing their infants into the frigid Rhine. The Elder Seneca lamented that he no longer had the discipline of soul to swim in the cold Euripus. In contrast to such severity, Ovid argued for a more urbane culture by celebrating the erotic elements of swimming. Distinguished Romans assured that their progeny get off to a fast start. Cato the Elder taught his young son, Augustus taught his grandsons, and the grandfather of the emperor Severus learned to swim as a boy. Striking historical exemplars allowed the ancients to use antithesis to promote a universal ideal of swimming. They were surprised that Alexander the Great and Caligula could not swim. Young and old used the skill. An epigram of Dioscorides from c. 250–200 BCE memorialized a swim by an Egyptian farmer named Aristagoras. The annual Nile floods were a mixed blessing. A normal flood was vital to agriculture, but an unusually furious flood proved disastrous. Such a flood swept up Aristagoras and his farm. Even in old age, Aristagoras had the strength to swim in a raging Nile while clutching a clod of his soil.3 Non-fictional sources describe women swimming. The Carthaginian mothers of child hostages swam to Roman ships and treaded water as they begged the Romans not to sail away with their offspring. Agrippina survived Nero’s attempt to drown her, while her confidante Aceronia Polla also swam for a time before the emperor’s lackeys clubbed her to death. Domitian purportedly enjoyed a leisurely swim in a pool filled with Rome’s prostitutes. Fictional literature celebrated the lithe swimming of the Nereids whom Ino joined after leaping from the customary cliff. Rome’s early history featured the legendary swim of the redoubtable Cloelia. Her bravery while swimming mirrored that of her male counterpart, Horatius Cocles. Around twelve years of age, Cloelia led her fellow maiden hostages on a daring escape across the Tiber River. Some authors described her as swimming “beyond her sex.”4 The sources makes clear that all the female hostages knew how to swim. In developing stroke techniques, the ancients took their cue from animals who swam well. The dolphins were the supreme example of graceful efficiency and used their swimming skills to support humans in need. The ancients did not seem to develop a stroke like modern butterfly in imitation of the 3 Anth. Pal. 9.568 (Greek Anthology, 1917, 3:314–17). 4 Expression borrowed from Labalme, ed., Beyond Their Sex, 1980.

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undulating of a dolphin’s body and whipping of its tail fin. When describing Caesar’s swim at Alexandria, Appian had him stay underwater for as long as possible and surface to catch a quick breath. That makes sense if his Egyptian enemies were pursuing him and firing missiles. It mimics the way a dolphin breaches in order to breathe. There is evidence that the ancients mastered the back float. Plato twice used that way of floating as a metaphor for inverting proper priorities in life. Manilius described a swimmer floating motionless on his back and allowing the current to move him where it willed. Manilius literally described treading water, characterizing it as a way to turn the sea into land. The ancients swam on their stomach. They generally used the breaststroke, descriptions of which focused on the arm motion. Poets described the arms propelling in unison like the oars of a rowboat and circling around until they came together again at the chest. The poets also described a stroke on the stomach where the arms alternated in their motion rather than move together. They said that the arms alternated their blows as the swimmer brought the arms forward one after the other. The language is ambiguous and could describe the arm motion of a dog paddle or front crawl. Credible evidence for front crawl comes from the verbal and artistic depiction of Leander swimming the Hellespont. Both had him moving one arm to the side while extending the other forward. Front crawl is a stroke suited to the energy of the waters flowing through the Hellespont. Manilius characterized front crawl as a movement in which one arm after the other engages in slow pulling, and the water resounds each time the recovering arm makes contact. A text of Rutilius Namatianus may also describe front crawl. Scholars continue to debate the precise wording and its meaning. Their task is complicated by a helpful variant in a manuscript that is now lost. To assist swim lessons, the ancients developed two technologies. First, they gave beginners a flotation device. The floats could be manufactured from a variety of material. Sources describe the use of cork, reed mats, sealed gourds, and inflated animal skins. The ancients were careful to wean beginners away from reliance on those floats. It became proverbial to “swim without cork.” Second, the ancients built swimming pools. Most known pools come from a Roman context because the Romans were inclined to engineer the environment. The city of Rome had an administrative region named Public Swimming Pool (Piscina Publica) that likely reflected the transformation of a large water reservoir into a place to swim. When using natural bodies of water for instruction, the ancients attended to differences. Hot springs provided therapeutic relief. Oily waters in Cilicia, Ethiopia, and India reduced friction. Ancient authors remarked on the sapping effects of especially cold water. Swimmers rubbed oil on their bodies for insulation, and they used alcohol to dull the

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senses. The ancients were aware that the human body was more buoyant in saltwater than in fresh water. That was proven in the waters of the Dead Sea, which they often called Asphalt Lake. As an experiment, Emperor Vespasian ordered a group of non-swimmers to have their hands tied behind their backs and then be hurled into the sea. The strange sea kept them afloat and alive. The ancients utilized the skill of swimming in a variety of contexts. Doctors recommended swimming for therapy. It could assist one afflicted by a dislocated limb, obesity, and arthritis. They felt that swimming was effective treatment for a phobia of water. A limited group of ancient athletes used swimming as a preferred method of exercise. There were two boxers who trained by swimming. Romans equipped their public and private bath complexes with a pool whose dimensions would permit recreational swimming. Horace suggested that young men swim across the Tiber and back three times for an invigorating workout. Apart from a festival for Dionysus at Hermione that had either a swimming or a free-diving contest, the ancients did not swim in organized competition. Young persons challenged each other to informal races. They would zig-zag across a river. If they wanted to brave the current, they swam up along one bank, crossed over at a landmark, and swam back on the opposite side. Apart from free-diving, there were few ways to swim for a living. In some regions, ancient swimmers captured large turtles by turning them over on their backs or lassoing them at sunrise when they had already rolled themselves over. The meat provided food, and the large carapace provided material for roofing or a personal watercraft. The Romans employed a group of Egyptian swimmers, the Tentyritae, to handle crocodiles kept on display in Rome. The ancients prized swimming because it afforded a way to rescue oneself or another. In myth and history drownings elicited pathos. Bronze statues erected at Olympia commemorated the death of thirty-five boys and their chaperones from Messina who drowned on their way to perform at Rhegium. The Straits of Messina were a particularly dangerous marine environment. The mythical monsters Scylla and Charybdis symbolized the channel’s unseen dangers. In classical fiction a powerful vortex, unpredictable depth, quicksand in a marsh, or a man-eating leviathan all caused terror. Lucian poked fun at the belief that enormous whales were waiting to swallow humans whole. He had Cypriots living comfortably in the belly of a whale and swimming in the local lake. Taking on a dangerous swim became a sign that love can make a man lose his head. Leander was the paradigm. He swam across the Hellespont at night to reach Hero. The fact that he succeeded on more than one occasion indicates that we can achieve audacious goals. The fact that he died swimming in stormy conditions indicates that we need to be rational when considering a taxing challenge.

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The dramatic narrative of shipwreck brought home to the ancients the dangers of the sea and the benefit of knowing how to swim. The storm at sea suddenly swamping a ship became a popular motif. Odysseus struggled to survive the wrecking of a boat he had built and enlisted divine aid. Leukothea gave him her veil that acted as a sort of life preserver, and he prayed to the gods while swimming in the water. He benefitted because he was not fated to die at that moment. Still, his success was not entirely due to divine intervention. Odysseus displayed sophisticated swimming skills. He would use the crest of the waves to view his best landfall, he knew to avoid a rip current that would pull him back out into open waters, and he determined to reach shore not at rocky cliffs but at the mouth of a river. Other survivors of shipwreck received divine assistance. The account in Acts indicated that the Christian apostle Paul predicted all on board his ship would be saved, and the centurion took special care to save Paul because he was exceptional in the eyes of God. The Jewish historian Josephus swam with companions all night after they were wrecked. The light of day brought the hope of salvation. They spotted a ship and swam to it. Dolphin rescuers of individuals from Arion in Herodotus to Coeranus in Plutarch proved in one gesture their solidarity and skill when swimming. The ancients celebrated in literature, sculpture, and ritual dance the dolphin that lifted Arion onto his back. Rescue by dolphin was not altogether reassuring. It represented intervention beyond the human. Stories of dolphin rescues were meant to inspire humans to master swimming and use it to help others. In a tale of friendship, Lucian portrayed Euthydicus attempting to rescue Damon as they traveled at sea. During the night, an unexpected wave flung Damon fully clothed into the water. Euthydicus was awakened by his screaming. He ran to the rail, leapt in, and supported his friend in the water. As the ship moved on in the darkness, those on board threw the pair whatever they could find that floated. A marble relief on a Roman sarcophagus commemorated the effort to rescue a man overboard. It may also indicate organized rescue services at key harbors. A spotter on a tower at the harbor entrance alerts nearby ships to the man’s plight. A sailor on one ship leans over to try and grab the wretch, and his naked companions were ready to jump into the water. Since the scene was carved onto a sarcophagus, it may indicate that the rescue attempt failed. The tableau became another catalyst to learn how to swim. 2.2 The Ancient Legacy: Swimming in Military Affairs The ancients put special value on swimming as a rescue skill in a naval context. Rowers and marines might wind up in the sea after their galley was rammed.

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Lucan graphically represented their torments. Some had their arms sliced off as they struggled to pull themselves onto a friendly ship. At Salamis and Potidaea, the civilized Greeks survived; the barbarians drowned. Desperation could drive the defeated to attempt a perilous swim. In 396 BCE the garrison at Messina fled a Carthaginian attack by trying to swim the Straits. Fifty of the approximately two hundred swimmers were said to have reached the Italian peninsula. Fleet commanders adopted measures to aid those who finished in the water. Before battle they disposed small swift ships to circulate and pluck from the water their own combatants. Life-preserving technology for sea battles was minimal. In one instance the Romans equipped a messenger with a set of inflated skins so he could bring news to Cyzicus of impending relief from siege. To keep the message dry it was sewn inside one of the bags. Experiments were conducted using shields that doubled as floats and functioned like a coracle. An animal hide was stretched over a wicker-work frame. Shield floats proved helpful to land armies, particularly in late antiquity. The Romans took to the sea in earnest during the Punic Wars and continued to fight naval battles during the Macedonian Wars. Julius Caesar was celebrated for one instance of heroic swimming at sea. He demonstrated mastery of the art during the Alexandrian War. Caesar’s forces had captured the island of Pharos and were driving toward the city down a land bridge when the Egyptians landed troops behind them. Caesar had to abandon the narrow causeway and take to the water. Seven accounts describe the swim. Their details are not reconcilable. They do not agree on whether Caesar saved himself, his purple cloak, and his personal papers. The criterion of embarrassment helps to sort out the contradictory details. Caesar was in serious trouble on the causeway that day and led his soldiers in a chaotic retreat to awaiting boats. If he was forced to swim and was wearing a purple cloak, he logically would get rid of it. It would weigh him down and mark him as an easy target. The version in which the Egyptians set up the captured cloak as a trophy is sufficiently humiliating to be historical. To attempt a swim for his life while carrying personal papers and/or dragging his cloak would be foolhardy. His swimming under the surface for as long as each breath allowed makes good sense. Once Caesar boarded a friendly vessel in the harbor, he immediately sent back as many boats as possible for his personal Dunkirk. Caesar made his reputation as a brilliant commander of his army on land. His soldiers met the challenge of rivers in the line of march by swimming across them unaided or employing inflated skins. Caesar acknowledged that the Lusitani gained a tactical advantage by equipping themselves with skin floats. During the Civil War in Hispania, Caesar ordered his troops to swim in battle-gear across a river and seize the high ground. There were alternative

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ways to cross the river. At the battle of the Nile that decided the Alexandrian War for Caesar and Cleopatra, Caesar had at his disposition auxiliary German troops who swam with their horses. A Caesarean soldier named Scaeva won acclaim for his swimming. In one account, Scaeva was wounded defending a rock outcrop, swam to shore with two breastplates, and begged Caesar’s pardon for the holes in his shield. In a second, Scaeva rescued a group of centurions from swampy terrain and apologized this time to Caesar for losing his shield. The third version had Scaeva (Scaevius) abandoned by his squad leader on a breakwall in Hispania, where he suffered grievous wounds, lost his shield, and still managed to swim back to shore, the sole survivor. So renowned were Scaeva’s exploits that Lucan imagined him bailing Caesar out on the causeway at Alexandria. The dramatic character of combat between epic hero and river deity underlined the challenge that rivers posed to ancient armies. Homer set the paradigm in the Iliad. Achilles in full battle rage took on the river god Xanthus (Scamander). While routing the Trojans and driving them back into the river, Achilles dominated. When fighting the god one on one, even mighty Achilles was overmatched and needed the assistance of the Olympians to survive. In the Aeneid, the Tiber confirmed that it was better to have the river on your side. After Turnus singlehandedly tried to trounce the Trojans, he realized his error and fled across the river. As Turnus swam in full armor, the river god lifted him up and set him on the opposite bank. Statius reshaped the Homeric paradigm in his epic poem on Thebes. Hippomedon did mirror Achilles as he slaughtered his human foes who hid like cowards at the bottom of the Ismenus River. In the theomachy that followed, Hippomedon had to confront two river deities at once, and no Olympian came to his rescue. Rivers were topographical features where divine forces took on and defeated human pretenders. Ancient armies had to have a strategy when confronting a river. Swimming a river in armor became a measure of Roman military excellence. Horatius Cocles swam wounded with all his weaponry, Scipio swam in his breastplate, the wounded Sertorius swam the Rhône in breastplate while carrying his shield, and Caesar’s swimming centurion wept in shame for having left a shield behind. The Aeneid narrated the calculations of Metabus as he confronted the Amasenus River in flood stage. He was fleeing with his infant daughter Camilla. Metabus realized that the swim was too dangerous if he were to attempt to transport the infant. He wrapped Camilla in cork and tossed her across on his spear. In full armor he then traversed the raging current. Land armies across the ancient world contended with rivers as barriers. In the Eastern Mediterranean, the earliest representations of soldiers swimming are neo-Assyrian reliefs. The reliefs depict soldiers who swim with the

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aid of inflated skins. The one without a float may be drowning. The rulers of Mesopotamia had to have a way to handle the Tigris, the Euphrates, and the intervening network of irrigation channels. The retreat of the 10,000 Greek mercenaries under Xenophon illustrated the problems that rivers presented to an army attempting to save itself. The soldiers feared the rivers of Persia as insuperable obstacles that might prevent their reaching the sea and taking ship for home. To get across, the Greeks used fords, boats, and stuffed animal skins. Like the Assyrians, they did not seem willing to confront a river without a swim aid. Their stuffing the skin with straw seems a risky alternative to inflating them. The hides would have to be waterproof. Alexander marched into India with a pontoon bridge on boats he could disassemble and move from one river to the next. In one instance, two of Alexander’s soldiers were confident enough to attempt to swim across a river before they discovered a place to ford it. By the fourth century, Macedonian hegemony and its expanding empire illustrated the need for swimming when on the offensive. According to Plutarch, Philip of Macedon swam the Sardon River after he was wounded and lost an eye. Plutarch made the Macedonian king mirror the legendary Roman swimmer, Horatius Cocles. It is not clear whether Philip assured that his son Alexander learn to swim. The ancient sources diverge on Alexander’s experience at the Cydnus River. Some authors described him arriving wearied and covered with dust. Aristobulus claimed that Alexander was so exhausted when he reached the river that he did not even go in. Those authors who have Alexander entering the water do not agree on what exactly he was doing. Some used the verb for bathing, while others used that for swimming. What he did relates to the debate over why he chose to enter the river. There are authors who indicate that he was so miserable from sweating that he stripped and entered the river. In such condition, it makes sense that Alexander would take the opportunity to bathe. At the citadel of Nysa, Plutarch had Alexander lament that he could not swim. Consistent with that picture, Plutarch had Alexander bathing in the Cydnus. And Plutarch led Erasmus to conclude that Alexander the Great could not swim. Throughout the campaigns, Alexander’s army found every river a taxing impediment. To cross the Danube, they used dugouts and rafts improvised from stuffed tent covers. At the Oxus, his soldiers again employed the stuffed hides, and some swam unaided. At the Iaxartes, the heavily armed phalanx and the cavalry crossed on rafts while the light-armed soldiers utilized the stuffed skins. On that occasion the cavalry likely let their horses swim behind the rafts. The Hydaspes in India slowed the conqueror’s progress. Both Greek and Hindi soldiers swam to islets in the river to do battle. Control of the small islands

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would simplify the crossing. Eventually, Alexander’s army got across on boats and skin floats. They reduced the difficulty by exploiting an island and multiple fords. At the Acesines, they traversed on boats and stuffed hides. The scout fleet that Alexander sent under the command of Nearchus had lightly armed troops who swam to rescue themselves or attack the Fisheaters. Normally, the soldiers relied on swim aids or bridges or boats. By the time of Alexander’s death, the Macedonians had a reputation as poor swimmers. They mirrored their commander. As an imperial power, the Romans likewise met rivers on the march. They eventually used rivers as natural frontiers for their European empire. Early in Rome’s history, swimming featured at critical moments in the fighting. The Gallic raiding party that swept toward Rome around 390 BCE inflicted a stinging defeat on the Romans at the Allia River. When the Roman line broke, the soldiers fled to the Tiber. In un-Roman fashion, they threw away their arms before attempting to swim across. Among those who tried, most drowned. The Gauls pressed south, sacked the city, and besieged its remaining defenders in the Capitoline citadel. Pontius Cominius, by swimming, helped saved the day. Disguised in peasant clothing, he likely traveled as far as he could on land. Using a flotation device made from cork and operating under the cover of night, Cominius crossed the Tiber and delivered a crucial message to the Senate and Roman people. Cominius altered swimming from a way to flee defeat to a way to abet victory. Later Roman military practice had soldiers use flotation devices made from cork and leather skins. During the Second Punic War, the Carthaginians under Hannibal schooled the Romans in tactical swimming. Hannibal’s father had drowned while crossing a river in flight. He did so to save his sons. From family lore Hannibal got an important lesson about preparedness for rivers. In crossing the Rhône and Po rivers, the Carthaginian general used a course of action that the Romans later embraced. He had among his forces light-armed Celtiberian auxiliaries who were specialist swimmers. The auxiliaries located a place suitable for crossing, set their shields on buoyant skins, and traversed the river. Hannibal exploited Italian terrain to inflict stinging defeats on the Romans. At the Trebia River, he lured the Romans from their camp on the opposite bank and hid crack troops in the weeds to strike the Roman rear. As the Romans retreated, they met disaster. They could not wade across the river because it had been swollen by melting snow and falling sleet. They could not swim across in full armor because the current had quickened. They were annihilated along the riverbank. At Lake Trasimene Hannibal arranged a bloody ambush. Blocked along a narrow pathway and hit hard from the flank and rear, the Romans in desperation turned to the lake. If they tried to swim in full armor, they drowned. If they waded into

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the water and tried to surrender, the Numidian cavalry mowed them down. Encouraged by their peers some Roman soldiers chose suicide. During the Third Punic War, the Carthaginians gave the Romans one last lesson on tactical swimming. To destroy the Roman artillery battering their defenses, the Carthaginians sent a suicide mission. The night swimmers succeeded in torching Roman catapults. As the raiders had anticipated, most were slaughtered as they fulfilled their mission. The experiences during the Punic Wars help to explain why Sertorius became the archetypal swimming legionary. Wounded and de-horsed, Sertorius swam against the current and managed to retain his weaponry. A legionary could endure that hardship if trained to swim. Realities intruded on the ideal. The Romans continued to struggle against swimming enemies. During the Empire, good swimmers harassed the Romans along the border. The Germans pressured frontier defenses established along the Rhine and Danube rivers. According to Pliny, the Germans scoffed at the notion of rivers as barriers. They swam rivers in all conditions, even those choked by ice floes. The Germans combined toughness of body and mind. The Romans decided to fight fire with fire. They recruited the German Batavi as swimming auxiliaries. The Batavi were a tribe living between the Rhine and Waal rivers near their outlets into the North Sea. Over time, Batavi likely became a term for all troops in the imperial guard who swam well with their horses. The original Batavi blazed the trail. They were renowned for cavalry eager to swim fully armed alongside their horses and maintain battle formation. In exchange for their service, the Romans long exempted the Batavi from normal taxes. On the first day of the battle of Idistaviso in 16 CE, the Batavi gave Germanicus critical help against Arminius by swimming the Weser River. They contributed to the conquest of Britain. Early on, a contingent accustomed to swim in the most turbulent streams caught the Britons off-guard. Later, the Batavi were probably the swimming forces that spearheaded two attempts to conquer the island of Mona. The Batavi revolted against the Roman government when their tax exemption was cancelled. They choreographed the fighting to exploit the advantage of rivers and swamps, at one point damming the Lower Rhine to flood the surrounding region. Like Hannibal’s Celtiberian auxiliaries, the Batavi were lightly armed. By the time of Hadrian, anyone numbered among the Batavi had earned a reputation for excellent swimming. When the Batavi swam the Danube with weapons and armor, the display alone led Rome’s enemies to capitulate. An inscription celebrated one Batavian member of the imperial guard who swam the river in full armor and hit one arrow with another.

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In late antiquity Rome’s increasing inability to defend the borders meant that military swimming overshadowed other reasons for doing so. The technologies remained the same. The wealthy Sidonius Apollinaris equipped his country villa at Avitacum with a pool adequate for swimming. Flotation devices continued to assist infantry in traversing river barriers. Late antique armies used inflated bladders as personal swim floats and supports for short pontoon bridges. Ammianus Marcellinus described light-armed Roman auxiliaries and German enemies both utilizing their shields as a sort of personal dugout. The characterization derived from the curved sides. Much of our information on swim training in late antiquity comes from the earliest surviving manual on Rome’s armed forces. It was compiled by Vegetius, working late in the fourth century as a student of military history but not a soldier himself. He contended that swimming was essential to military preparation. It served all branches: infantry, cavalry, and even helmet bearers. When an army was retreating or pursuing a bested foe, soldiers cannot always find an adequate number of boats to ferry them across rivers. Vegetius applauded the use of the Tiber for swimming lessons. Recruits could sequence from military drilling on the Campus Martius to swim practice nearby. In camp on campaign, soldiers should practice swimming daily if they were not fighting and the weather permitted. Vegetius looked back nostalgically to the golden era of military training in the early years of Rome’s Empire. He offered an idealized picture of instruction for all recruits. Data in late antique panegyrists and historians help to gauge the diffusion of swimming among Roman legionaries and their opponents. The sources indicate that barbarian enemies of Rome were competent swimmers. Sidonius Apollinaris marketed the Gallic emperor Avitus to the Roman public as trustworthy because he combined the combat specialty of several barbarian tribes. Sidonius valued the same skills that Vegetius recommended in his treatise. They included Avitus swimming as well as the Franks. For the commendation to work, Sidonius had to be confident that his audience knew how well the Franks swam. War narratives of the historians at times featured barbarians who did and did not swim. At Nisibis in 350, some Persians swam while others drowned. Even those swimming were hit by Roman archers in the back. In another episode, retreating Isauri paused at a river barrier overnight. They needed time to assemble the boats and floats that would allow them to cross over safely. Although escaped Armenian prisoners were running for their lives, they were still afraid to try to swim the Euphrates River. Two barbarian armies whom Roman forces defeated ended up slaughtered as they tried to swim to safety. At Strasbourg in 357, the retreating Germans came up

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against the Rhine River in flood stage. Many drowned, some due to the weight of their gear and others because a non-swimmer clung to one who knew how. Only those who crossed with the aid of their shields reached safety. Ammianus Marcellinus modeled his account of the lesser slaughter of the Limigantes on the slaughter of the Germans at Strasbourg. Light-armed Roman auxiliaries who were engaged in fighting along the Rhine River used their shields as floats, even in water shallow enough to wade across. The shield as flotation device fits the late antique milieu. The Persian campaign of Emperor Julian plunged Roman forces back into the watery topography of Mesopotamia. When Julian reached the conjunction of the Euphrates with a royal channel called the Naarmalcha, he found the Persians awaiting him on the opposite bank. Julian sent a small party to outflank the Persians by swimming across the channel. When the Persians ignored the diversionary attack, Julian had his engineers construct a bridge for the use of the light infantry and ordered his cavalry to swim. The Romans pressed on toward Ctesiphon, which Julian considered the linchpin of his campaign. Against the advice of his generals, Julian launched a night attack on Ctesiphon across the Tigris River. He emptied transport ships and used them to ferry the bulk of his troops to the opposite bank. Those not embarked on the ships kept up by swimming with the support of their shields. The crossing worked, but the commanding lieutenant failed to capitalize on the beachhead, and Ctesiphon held out. After Julian’s sudden death, his successor Jovian elected to withdraw, but the Tigris in flood halted the retreat. Jovian knew that many of his soldiers could not swim. To test and see if swimming was even feasible, Jovian sent his Gallic and German auxiliaries across. His logic was simple. Those troops were taught from boyhood to cross rivers. His faith was rewarded. Despite witnessing the successful swim, Jovian set up a pontoon bridge on inflated bladders. The details of a later crossing reveal why. In that case, panicked Roman forces used every means at their disposal. They built makeshift rafts, swam holding onto horses, or paddled on inflated skins. Mutineers who did not wait for orders to cross and did not know how to swim drowned. Ammianus used a consistent vocabulary when describing military swimming. Either the soldiers had attained expertise in swimming (peritia nandi), or they lacked expertise and even a basic understanding (imperitia / imprudentia nandi). Despite the lobbying of Vegetius for universal training, many seemed to fall into the inexpert category. In late antiquity Nonnus made his lengthy epic a tour de force of swimming and bathing. He showcased the erotic dimension of swimming and used voyeurism to engage his audience. The epic revolved around the myth of

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Dionysus. Early on his mother Semele starred in a typical swimming scene. She knew the art well. Stripped naked, she swam in the Asopus River near Thebes. The description of her stroke that Nonnus offered became a formula repeated throughout the work. Her hands appeared to be oars rowing, she held her head well above the water’s surface, she breasted the water, and she stepped with alternating feet to push the water behind. On eight other occasions, Nonnus offered a mirroring description of the swim stroke. The simultaneous rowing of the arms, the body position with head above the surface, and the contact with the surface at breast level match breaststroke, but the alternating feet do not. Nonnus may indicate the sort of bicycle kick that beginners resort to instead of a proper flutter kick. It figures in dog paddling. For Nonnus mastering the art of swimming led to proficiency in what today would be a hybrid stroke. Nonnus was the rare author who described swimming races. He had Dionysus competing against the satyr Ampelus, and he fashioned a mirroring contest between Calamus and Carpus. In the former the two swam a zig-zag course in the river to fend off the current. In order to allow Ampelus to win, Dionysus paused mid-race and rested by treading water. Calamus and Carpus swam a course that resembled the one that chariots followed in a Roman circus. The competing swimmers went down one bank of the river to a turning point, crossed to a turning point on the opposite bank, and then swam back to their starting line. Competing was antipasto to the main course of ogling naked women as they swam. As Zeus gazed upon Semele, he was delighted when a gust of wind blew her hair aside to reveal the gleaming nape of her neck. Dionysus imitated his father Zeus by scrutinizing the nymph Nicaea as she swam. Aphrodite rested her bosom on the sea as she made her way to Beroë. Nonnus could multiply the scenes because the ancients swam naked. Nudity in the water gave a titillating quality to the hydromimes and fables performed before audiences. 3

The Middle Ages: Legendary Swimmers

After the collapse of Roman rule in the West, incredible feats by swimmers burgeoned. Various peoples celebrated superhuman swimming in sagas and epic. Representations of swimming in medieval art display little understanding for technique. An illumination in a Pierpont Morgan manuscript shows a miracle from the life of Saint Benedict. No one involved swam, and it required a miracle to save a life in the water. In the August illumination for the Tres riches heures, tiny peasants in the background use two different strokes to swim while far grander nobles in the foreground conduct their hunt. One

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peasant swims on his back and bends his legs ninety degrees at the knees. The other swims on his stomach. A historiated initial in a codex of Vegetius reveals greater sophistication. Attributed to Niccolò di Giacomo da Bologna, the initial speaks. Majuscule N is decorated by the representation of one swimming (natandi). The swimmer moves his arms in opposite directions along his side for a stroke that can only be front crawl. For a Vegetius manuscript to have a polished image of swimming was fitting. Commentary on Vegetius led medieval scholars to analyze his prescriptions for training recruits to swim. The commentators endorsed that recommendation, adding other appropriate skills for their own era, particularly the ability to handle a horse. The military applications of swimming continued to buttress arguments for its utility to political society. Historians of the German tribes followed ancient models in focusing on warfare. Gregory of Tours described the Frankish retainer Leo helping the prince-hostage Attalus to escape by swimming across the Moselle River at night. The shield that Leo stole supported Attalus during his crossing. So did divine assistance. Sabotaging boats proved a popular tactic in history and saga. When successful, it compelled the occupants to swim. Mummolus caused many of the boats used by the army of his pursuer Guntram Boso to founder in mid-Rhône. To save themselves, soldiers swam or ripped loose planks. Those with less presence of mind drowned. Paul the Deacon described a few occasions when the Lombards had to swim. He included a story that King Lamissio battled an Amazon queen one-on-one in a river, even though he doubted that there was any such thing as an Amazon. Paul could imagine women who swam well enough to accept the dare of a male opponent. Dueling in and on the water was an established medieval contest. Swimming gained a prominent place in the epics and sagas of the Early Middle Ages. From Iceland to Scandinavia, heroes performed remarkable feats in the chilly waters of northern Europe. The accounts of those marvels supply clues to characteristics of swimming. Heroes were trained to swim at an early age. They were taught to imitate a seal in the water. In one saga, a servant (yeoman) conducted a swim class for boys in a mountain lake. All social classes benefitted from learning the skill. Havard the farmhand assisted Kali the jarl in a swimming quest for rumored treasure. There is evidence that women learned to swim. A wet nurse named Thorgerd Brak tried to swim to safety and might have made it if a crazed Skallagrim had not hit her flush with a stone. Old and lame, Havard found himself rejuvenated to swim in order to get revenge for the murder of his son. The northern Europeans swam year-round. They generally swam naked but experimented with insulating clothing, particularly coarse wool and seal skin. Additional technology was minimal. One swimmer devised webbed fingers. Saint Findan had his clothing freeze solid and discovered that a human ice cube is buoyant.

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The epics and sagas depict beneficial purposes for swimming. From Cúchulainn to Saint Christopher, the taller among skilled swimmers could ferry those in need over a river. Swimming retained its value as a lifesaving skill. Those who did not know how to swim or could not withstand the rigors of northern waters expired. King Olaf Tryggvason leapt from his flagship and drowned after losing a naval battle off the mysterious island of Svold. Sigmund tried to carry back to shore the bodies of each of his two companions who had died in route. Other stories had a happier ending. Cúchulainn rescued his entire crew of sixty after their vessel wrecked. He transported thirty in a bunch formation on his head. Kormak rescued the kidnapped Steingerd by swimming her to shore through a pack of eels. On Christmas Day Thord rescued a family of three whose boat had capsized in ice flows on the river they were crossing to get to church. He rescued the young son first by tying him between his shoulders. Swimming a breaststroke, he was able to keep the lad’s head and his own out of the water. Northern legends recount a variety of swimming contests. Young boys found competing a fun way to master the skill. Beowulf accepted the challenge of Breca to see which of them could win a distance race. Beowulf shrewdly decided to compete in his mail shirt. It added a bit of warmth and thwarted ravenous sea monsters. Day and night the two pressed on, wielding their swords as they swam. That youthful experience steeled Beowulf for his lonely swim as an adult from Frisia back home. The Icelandic sagas had young Egil and his entourage compete to see who could swim the farthest into a lake. When fog rolled in, Egil lost his bearings and wandered the lake for two days before collapsing on the beach. The outlaw Grettir was so confident in his distance swimming that others used it against him. Riding at anchor, his frigid crew badly needed fire to warm themselves. They challenged Grettir to swim across a fjord and retrieve the fire they spotted in a shelter. He took the bait, swam the fjord, obtained the fire, and swam it back. When Thorir Redbeard was looking for a way to kill Grettir, he lured him into swimming out to their nets in order to retrieve the catch. As Grettir returned, loaded down with the nets, Redbeard pounced but missed his chance when Grettir dived underwater and escaped. Still later, and still an outlaw, Grettir and a servant took refuge on Drangey Island. When the resentful servant let the fire go out, Grettir swam the 7.5 km to the mainland, warmed himself in hot springs, entered a farmstead, and fainted. The local farmer was sufficiently impressed to give the hero a ride home. Dunking contests provided another way to spend testosterone. An activity that amused young people in the water could quickly turn serious. Fionn mac Cumhaill fended off a group of young men who tried to drown him. He dunked nine of them until they succumbed. When the Icelander Kjartan arrived in

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Norway, unknown to him, he ended up competing in a best-of-three dunking contest against King Olaf. The royal brothers Sigurd and Eynstein combined dunking and distance swimming as they also competed in boasting. Sigurd taunted his brother by claiming that he could dunk him any time he wished. Eynstein countered that he could match any distance Sigurd could swim and then dive and swim even farther underwater. Celtic legends recounted swim exploits undertaken to woo a young maiden. Against the wishes of her royal parents, Fráech sought to marry the lovely Finnabair. He impressed her with a swim to retrieve berries for her parents. When sent back for more, Fráech found himself set up. He swam over a deep pool of the lake where a dragon attacked him. Fráech yelled for a sword, and the lovely Finnabair alone came to his aid. He won victory over the dragon and her hostile parents. Late medieval historians of the peoples of northern Europe narrated swimming feats in their frosty waters. In the thirteenth century, Saxo Grammaticus covered the history of his Danes. In the sixteenth, influenced by Italian humanism, Olaus Magnus treated the natural resources and social mores of the various peoples of the region. Saxo emphasized the contribution of military swimming in Danish political history. More than once he illustrated swimming’s importance when a combatant resorted to a tested stratagem to compromise a larger enemy fleet. The outnumbered forces would furtively drill holes at the waterline of enemy ships and temporarily plug them. Hostilities commenced after the plugs were pulled in rapid succession. The tactic introduced a double threat to those on the leaking ships. They had to confront the swords of the enemy and the rising waters of the sea. Failure to master swimming often decided the battle. Danish half-brothers, one the future king, fled the Wends who had enslaved them and adapted the tradition of duplicity to a river bridge. In preparing their escape route, they had weakened the bridge’s structure. The brothers avoided the faulty bridge and swam across the river. When the pursuing Wends spilled onto the bridge, it gave out. Plunged into the river, the Wends either drowned or were finished off by the brothers as they tried to climb out on the opposite bank. The broader scope of the encyclopedia of Olaus Magnus meant that he could treat theoretical aspects of swimming as well as convincing examples of its value. In the age of humanism, Olaus drew upon classical sources. He also drew upon Saxo’s history. Olaus began with the theoretical. Swimming was an art with rules and techniques for its teaching. There was even an abridged form of the system. Soldiers who did not swim well could still make their way across a river once a rope was strung from one bank to the other. Two factors combined to make swimming important. The peoples of the north needed to swim during military campaigning because they lived in terrain drained by extensive

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river systems. They therefore focused on coaching humans and horses to swim. The art also had the capacity to save lives. To illustrate lifesaving, Olaus adduced examples from ancient sources and from Saxo. His classical exemplars included familiar cases of the Greeks at Salamis, Caesar in the harbor at Alexandria, and Cloelia along the Tiber. Olaus featured three examples he gleaned from Saxo. First, Erik the Eloquent saved the life of King Frothi after Erik had sabotaged the royal warship. Second, the Norwegian pretender Sigurd twice tried to extricate himself from difficult binds by swimming. In the first, as Sigurd was being ferried to his execution at sea, he convinced the crew to have a drink or two and then cede him the helm. Sigurd enacted his plan when the crew was drunk and the ship moving at a rapid clip. He cast off the quarter rudder, leapt off the ship, and swam to shore. Swimming did not serve Sigurd as well the second time. He engaged in a naval battle with the sons of Harald Gilli. Forced to abandon ship, Sigurd had the skill in the water to remove his armor and all his clothing. In the end the cold got the better of him. He surrendered to the sons who avenged his murder of their father. The final example involved the knight Herbord, who sensed that he would not be able to cross a wobbly bridge due to the logjam of those trying to do so. He therefore had his horse swim them across the river. Unfortunately, his crossing set off a stampede to join him, and the bridge collapsed. In full armor, Bishop Absalon, Saxo’s patron, saved himself and those who did not know the art of swimming. Olaus offered some guidance on technology helpful to swimmers. A woodcut illustrated a reed mat and inflated bladders that a beginner could use for support. Olaus also described a ring float with inflater tube for soldiers who did not know how to swim. He warned users not to bend over and drop their heads, which would diminish the ring’s buoyancy. That suggests that the float was tested in the water. Swimming was an ancient art and required practice for mastery. The examples that Olaus collected were a bit muddled. He mistook Scipio in Silius Italicus for Sertorius in Plutarch, and he transformed Scaeva into Scaevola. 4

The Rebirth of Swimming

The Theorists of Humanist Education and the Manual of Nicolas Wynman In 1538, Nicolas Wynman published a dialogue entitled Colymbetes in which he supplied the first explicit instructions on how to teach swimming. At the time Wynman was concluding his tenure at the University of Ingolstadt where 4.1

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he had lectured on Greek literature and the Hebrew language. The ground for a manual on swimming was prepared by Italian scholars who for the first time formulated an educational program in the humanities. Around 1403–04, Pierpaolo Vergerio endorsed swimming as an exercise appropriate for children. Knowing how to swim protected us from perils in the water and made us bolder when fighting at sea or traversing rivers. In a work from 1443 on the family’s role in education, Leon Battista Alberti contended that fathers played a crucial role. When choosing appropriate physical exercises, a father should favor those that were virile and ethical. Let ancient example guide you; horse-riding, archery, ball games, fencing, and swimming met the test. In 1528 Baldassare Castiglione published his recommendation that courtiers know how to swim. He prized the agility that swimming conferred. As for all arts, the educated courtier should swim with a cavalier disregard for proficiency attained. Swimming received robust sanction when Erasmus included relevant adages in his vast compendium. For Erasmus, a Delian swimmer was really a Delian diver who had to swim well. The adage only made sense if it referred to plunging into the depths of the thought of Heraclitus, not remaining at a superficial level. A pair of adages endorsed swimming as an art. Talent was a factor. You cannot teach iron to swim. Levels of ability differed. There was no need to teach a dolphin to swim. But humans are not dolphins. They need training and practice. Not surprisingly for a collection numbering well over 3,000 adages, Erasmus commented on the proverb of proverbs for swimming. Elementary education in antiquity focused on basic literacy and how to swim. Those who cannot do both are woefully ignorant. The adage on “neither letters nor swimming” propounded a universal ideal. Erasmus found it in Athenian sources (Plato, Aristides), and he found it in Roman sources (Suetonius). Preceding humanists laid the foundation on which Wynman built. The influence of Erasmus and his Adages is apparent. Wynman consulted the work for relevant references. He also embraced strands of the Christian humanism of Erasmus. He followed the Dutch humanist on theological questions of grace and free will and endorsed the call of Erasmus for tolerance. But Wynman was an innovator. His dialogue was the first book to provide systematic instruction on teaching the art of swimming. From the outset Wynman emphasized his conviction that the designation art applied. What might seem a frivolous subject deserved treatment as a vital human skill. Just a few years earlier, the schoolmaster Vincentius Opsopoeus had written a treatise on the art of drinking. Surely swimming deserved more serious attention. Wynman shared antiquity’s universal ideal for swimming. He emphasized that women learn to swim. His classical precedents featured Cloelia, heroic counterpart to Horatius Cocles. On a mild summer’s eve in Zurich, boys and

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girls frolicked together in the water. The art of swimming brought citizens together and was suitable for any person. The dialogue partners jocularly debated whether a pygmy or a giant would win a swim contest. Wynman offered his prescriptions on the best environment for instructing a novice swimmer and the techniques for doing so. He preferred to conduct training in a river. The river should be shallow, reaching no higher than the learner’s chest when standing in the deepest spot. It should also have a moderate current. When learners were practicing, some current made swimming easier. Too strong a current was not an academic question. Wynman described dangerous rapids on the Danube (Big Strudel) and Rhine (Rhine Falls). For techniques, Wynman adopted a light-hearted tone to communicate that he was deadly serious. To master an art required commitment. Mastering the art would neutralize the risk in any body of water. When the young learner Erotes wondered why people drowned, Pampirus insisted that it was not the fault of the art. It was rather the fault of overconfidence and forgetting the art. No one knew the name of the individual who first swam by deriving principles from observation of nature and logical reasoning. For swimming, fish provided nature’s best empirical instruction. Swimming’s inventor likely experimented with various movements of hands and feet until he found those that worked well. Thereafter, it was a matter of refining the basic technique. Wynman supplied general norms. One should never swim alone. Wynman’s narrator Pampirus almost drowned at the baths of Leuk when he did so. Examine the proposed aquatic environment, and be selective. The narrator Pampirus had witnessed a young man and a young woman drown in Lake Zurich when weeds entangled their feet. Choose an instructor carefully. Talented instructors explain technique out of the water and assist in the water. If a learner wished to practice in the absence of the instructor, he should use a flotation device. The ancient options were all on the table: a reed raft, a cork float, a pair of inflated bladders. Swimming should prompt fun activities like racing on floats and diving to grab a pebble off the bottom. Wynman explained three different strokes but focused on the breaststroke. He split his instructions for breaststroke into techniques for the upper (hands, arms, body position) and lower body (legs, feet). For the upper body, he emphasized keeping the fingers of the hands together and angling the hands. Proper body position called for lifting the chest and neck so that the head remained above the surface. Wynman compared the motion of legs and feet to rowing and indicated a frog as the exemplary amphibian. Gaps in either the fingers or toes weakened propulsion. A rake does not work efficiently in water, and a grill cannot hold water. Wynman gave briefer instructions for floating on the back and treading water. A competent floater resembled a corpse. To assist, one

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should scull with the hands. Treading water served a swimmer who needed to rest or remove his boots in the water. The stroke was called treading because one pushed down alternately with each foot. The action resembled peasants crushing grapes. Wynman finally addressed the relevance of swim lessons. As a humanist, he endorsed ancient arguments for the value of swimming. Knowing how to swim can save your own life and help you save the lives of others. And soldiers could cut down to size any water obstacles in their path. Swimming involved risks. One should never be overly presumptuous. An ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure. Examples of drownings ran through ancient texts, and Pampirus had witnessed tragedy more than once. Wynman prescribed principles for self-rescue and for assisting a near-drowning victim. If confronted by the likelihood of shipwreck, swimmers should strip off impediments, jump into the water from bow or stern, and look for wood flotsam. Pampirus underscored that he was not speaking theoretically. A drunken crew let a barge on which he was traveling crash into the stone bridge at Regensburg. The protagonist trusted God and his ability to swim to bring him safely through the mishap. When rescuing others, it was best to use a substantial wooden float. The rescuer should extend the float to the distressed swimmer, have the person grasp it, and urge him to calm down. Above all, rescuers should not allow a panicked swimmer to grab hold of them. Swimming also had value in a military context. A soldier could learn to swim a river while clothed and carrying light arms. Wynman took pride in his German ancestry. In ancient times, the Germans demonstrated special skill in traversing rivers. Wynman pillaged the compilation of examples in the Exegesis Germaniae of Franciscus Irenicus. Throughout, Wynman used compendia as key sources. He likewise put his study of natural philosophy to work. He believed that a small spleen made for a better swimmer and that the human body was more buoyant in hot water than cold. Wynman used swimming to treat other issues of concern to a Christian humanist early in the Reformation controversies. Throughout the dialogue Wynman censured swimmers for excessive self-confidence. He was making a point about authentic Christian spirituality. When Pampirus came out of the spring at Leuk after he had almost drowned, he was a different person. His experience of immersion resembled the Christian sacrament of baptism. Thereafter, he realized that vainglory led to reckless swimming. Christians should detest their own presumption and acknowledge their need for divine grace. Salvation was a gift from a generous God. But in the two accounts of near shipwreck at the bridges in Germany, Wynman made explicit that he wanted to follow Erasmus and carve out a space for human freedom and responsibility.

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He felt that he would be saved at Regensburg through the gracious assistance of God and his own competence as a swimmer. If he had to do so, he could contribute to the salvation of a mother’s infant who migrated into his dialogue from one of Erasmus. She epitomized calm trust in a loving God. Other underlying issues related to Wynman’s career as a university lecturer. To earn his living, he had to be willing to travel. If the narrator Pampirus replicates the experience of Wynman, he did travel extensively in the German-speaking lands of central Europe. Pampirus visited numerous cities and developed a list of swimmable rivers that stretched from the Aare in his Swiss homeland to the Hebrus (Marica) in Bulgaria. Wynman was a passionate educator, and his chosen medium of dialogue represents a message. There was an educational value when an eager young learner pressed his pedagogue through pointed questioning. There was a concomitant value when a teacher explained techniques and then demonstrated them for his students. Wynman did not focus solely on the physical techniques of swimming, the elements that made it a mechanical art. Consistent with his humanist formation, he also focused on ethical priorities, the elements that made it a liberal art. 4.2 Everard Digby and a Second Dialogue on the Art of Swimming In 1587 the Cambridge don, Everard Digby, published a second dialogue, in which he elaborated methods to train students in swimming. Digby consciously saw himself filling a gap. Because the art of swimming till then had no inventive conceptualizer, he elaborated principles for mastery in an illustrated manual. Digby seemed unaware of Wynman’s work, though he knew that English predecessors had discussed swimming’s importance but not its methods. And they relied heavily upon previous work by Italian scholars. Thomas Elyot culled thirteen classical examples from a work entitled De regno that the humanist-bishop Francesco Patrizi published around 1484. Richard Mulcaster focused on the broader benefits of swimming as physical exercise and tied it to the Hippocratic-Galenic theory of medicine. Mulcaster applied theories of Girolamo Mercuriale, at times without acknowledgment, and he cited the ancient proverb on ignorance. Digby held a lectureship at Cambridge where swimming was a controversial subject. In 1571, to save lives, Cambridge banned students from swimming in local rivers and ponds. Statistics from Sussex County in England for the accidental death of children indicate that, from 1485 to 1688, the principal cause of death was drowning. Digby proposed a way to protect children and adults: teach everyone the art. To rescue swimming from the dust heap of neglect, Digby knew that he had to come down from his ivory tower and risk the opprobrium of his peers. Digby lashed back at critics whom he could already hear carping at him for wasting

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time on a frivolous pursuit. Those critics lacked integrity; none of them knew how to swim. And those critics adopted a position opposed to the wisdom of the ancients. In classical times the ignorant were not those who learned to swim. The ignorant were those too proud or foolish to do so. Digby developed his rationale for swimming in the context of the dignity of our human nature. In contrast to many other living creatures, it appeared that we do not have a natural ability to swim. But the reality was more complex. We are inept at first in the water, but we become more comfortable over time. That evolution illustrated for Digby the indeterminacy of human nature. Our initial difficulties stem from a divine benefaction. Humans are the only creatures who stand erect. But erect posture in the water was a detriment. Training remedied that. Once we master the art, we attain an ease of movement that no other creature could match. Animals and fish do not conceptualize arts. Skilled human practitioners of swimming can dive to the bottom, search for lost objects, and bring them back to the surface. Fish have no capacity for salvage diving. Humans can assume a variety of positions in the water and carry clothing and other objects over a river. Even drowning made the case. Trouble in the water only proves fatal if we panic and abandon the art. From those theoretical considerations, Digby turned to essential preparations. One should restrict swimming to the appropriate time of year, from May to August in England. On any given day in those months, one should avoid swimming when there was a considerable difference between the air and water temperatures. Check the direction of the wind. Avoid a day on which the prevailing wind was from the east southeast or the north; prefer a day on which a friendly wind blew from the south or west. Never swim at night. If it begins to rain, stop swimming. In general, Digby emphasized taking precautions that would prevent problems from occurring. Pick your spot along the riverbank carefully. A swimmer should avoid a bank soft enough to snare his feet. Look for one that was dry and solid and lush, shaded from the sun by trees. Avoid banks of rivers with thick grass overgrowth. They could conceal toads, frogs, and unhelpful worms. The surface of the river should be free of refuse and the bottom free of mud and dyes. Gauge any variance in depth. An instructor should walk around the entire area and show the learner the depth the water reached on his body. If a swimmer practiced without the instructor present, he could sound the depth using a fishing pole and weighted line. Consistent depth was safest. Digby specified a variety of ways to enter the swimming hole, depending on one’s level of expertise. Inexperienced swimmers should enter the water gradually until the level reached their chest, lean forward, extend the body and hands out into the water, and begin to swim. Experienced swimmers could

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choose from a front roll, a controlled fall on either side, or a jump that ended in their landing in a seated position. Digby supplemented verbal instructions for stroke technique with creative woodcuts illustrating a key action. Like Wynman and the ancients, he focused on breaststroke. His instructions for the activity of the upper body are clearer than those for the lower. The swimmer should keep the head and neck above the surface by bending the torso backwards. The arms stretch out in front, spread apart, and circle back into the chest. The legs seem to contribute little or nothing to propulsion. For the initial lessons Digby recommended that the instructor supply a means of support for the learner. He could lift the learner’s chin or use a float. Digby thought that the best swim aids were inflated bladders. Once a swimmer was comfortable doing breaststroke, Digby offered a technique to roll in the water from front to back. To practice floating on the back, the learner should walk into the water and, in a controlled manner, allow his body to fall back. Gaze up with the body extended and the hands covering the genitals. One could also utilize the legs for propulsion by stretching them out and pulling them in. Swimming on the back had advantages. Because it was not as tiring as breaststroke, where the arms remained in continual motion, one could keep going longer. The gaze upward meant that one took in less water. Leading with the head would break an oncoming wave or part weeds in one’s path. Digby next enumerated ways to exploit the agility of the human body in the water. For each maneuver, given his premise that the useful trumped the pleasurable, he itemized the benefits produced. Digby seemed particularly sensible to the threat of noxious weeds. Multiple maneuvers either pushed the weeds aside or extricated a swimmer caught in them. Digby taught five ways to change direction in the water. The quick turn was helpful if you ran into a bear who wanted to wrestle with you. A turn while erect in the water allowed you to scout out your exit point, locate and dodge incoming enemy missiles, or battle aggressive man and beast. Digby taught five ways to have fun in the water while on your stomach. Swimming with the palms together allowed one to burrow through straw or weeds. Learning to swim on the stomach without using the hands came in handy when you were tossed in with your hands tied behind your back. If you swam into a location thick with weeds, use a dog paddle to get out. Digby felt that dog paddling was the most instinctive of all the swim strokes. There was a cornucopia of ways to have fun and do acrobatic maneuvers while on your back. To drive off gnats buzzing around your face, drum in fourfold fashion and strike with each limb in a ratio increasing by tens. One could hang quietly in the water with chin to chest if an enemy boat was searching for you at night. Treading water helped a swimmer to parry a sword thrust.

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A drawn together sitting position with the hands holding the thighs or feet served one thrown into a narrow well. On land, Digby found himself unable to bend his leg enough to pare a toenail, but he had no trouble doing so in water. Among the maneuvers done purely for success was revealing four body parts simultaneously above the water. The ultimate in-water movement was the leaping of the goat, a double scissoring of the legs in the air akin to capering during a circle dance. For a century after Digby, most contributions to the art of swimming were abridged or unacknowledged translations of his work. 4.3 Swimming, the Scholars, and the Engineers Renaissance Europeans knew well the risks of drowning and appreciated the art of swimming for its ability to save lives and condition bodies. Leon Battista Alberti wove both the art and technology of swimming into his Dinner Pieces. In one of the droll dialogues, he developed an allegory about the Life River. Some of those cast into the river after their vessel wrecked tried to save themselves by using inflated bladders. The floats ended up punctured by sharp rocks, just as Alberti’s sharp satire intended to puncture the pretensions of smug politicians. Alberti commended those who did not rely on hot air but on their own abilities molded by training in the art of swimming. At times they had the additional support of a plank floating on the river. The planks symbolized the good arts, a critical boost to ethical living. In a letter to Agnolo Poliziano in 1483, Bartolomeo Fonzio also made an inflated bladder a metaphor for a bloated ego. Fonzio had tired of Poliziano’s relentless censure of fellow humanists. His overblown words betrayed a lack of integrity. Writers compared puffed up egos to inflated leather skins because they were a familiar technology. Renaissance engineers revamped flotation aids to make them safer. They designed floats for human beings and horses. Soldiers so equipped could deliver messages to allied forces. Knights so equipped could remain on horseback and cross a river. Early in the fifteenth century Konrad Kyeser designed three different flotation devices for human use. All three adapted the basic technology of an inflated leather bag. Kyeser tried to mold the bag to fit the human anatomy and fasten it securely in place. The first was a float that a swimmer used in a horizontal position. The other two designs kept the swimmer in a vertical position so that he could manage a paddle and communicate with those on shore. One called for folding the float and using belts and buckles to fix pieces front and back. The other was a familiar ring float to which Kyeser added a strap running through the swimmer’s crotch to prevent the float from riding up on his body. Kyeser’s immediate successors in the fifteenth century focused on the ring float. Konrad Gruter valued that design because it left the wearer with hands

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and arms free, and he proposed doubling the leather of the ring for greater security. To make communication easier, Taccola sought to lift the wearer higher in the water. He designed a ring float that should be set above the buttocks. It also allowed the wearer to go lower in the water to avoid enemy missiles. Francesco di Giorgio proved a prolific tinkerer. Three of his floats were designed to allow the swimmer to propel himself with a paddle. The first was a large inflated bag that the swimmer straddled, the second a pair of expanding, pressure sandals, and the third a pair of barrels yoked together. Francesco sketched other ideas in which he concentrated on a better way to hold the float in position. A ring float and a pair of pontoons had straps over the swimmer’s shoulders and laces tied around the upper portion of his thighs. An anonymous engineer from Bohemia proposed a flexible, open ring float that could be adjusted to fit the waist because it had belt closures. The quest to make a knight amphibious had a long history. Already in 1335 Guido da Vigevano offered the crusading French king his idea for a swimming knight. Guido drew a full-body float that wrapped around the entire horse. A century later, the anonymous Bohemian engineer tried to improve the design. Taccola, by contrast, did not envelop the horse horizontally in the water. He designed a pair of floats that wrapped vertically around the mid-section of the horse. One sat in front of the rider, the other behind. He warned that the inflated portion had to be fixed tightly in place over the horse’s spine. If the inflated portion shifted below the stomach, the horse and rider would roll over. Taccola’s design and instructions reveal an astute grasp of the problem of stability in the water. 5

The Impact on Free-Diving

5.1 The Ancient Legacy Homer crafted similes that exploited the familiarity of Greek audiences with a diver entering the sea headfirst. Euripides likewise compared a soldier falling from a fortification to a diver plunging into the water. A thousand years later, Nonnus demonstrated his affection for classical Greece by using the same comparison in his epic on Dionysus. Diving became a metaphor for transformation, particularly the stark crossing from life to death. Divers appeared in tragedy, comedy, and tomb paintings. Sources for information on free-diving included personal experience and conversation with divers or their entourage. One needed to exercise due diligence before accepting information obtained in banter with professionals. Divers embellished with relish. Poets knew of the blurred vision that divers

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experienced underwater and compared it to political decision-making and philosophical complexity. Abstruse writers were as difficult to penetrate as the deep waters of the Mediterranean. Two mythical heroes were accomplished divers. The Athenians had Theseus, and the Anthedonians had Glaucus, also associated with the island of Delos. Semi-divine persons handled diving with ease. They had little to risk, and they had assistance in the water from divine agents. Glaucus incarnated the transformative symbolism of diving. By consuming a magic herb, he went from a mortal living on land to an immortal living in the sea. Professional free-divers in antiquity submerged to collect marine creatures whose market value compensated the costs. The oldest and most widely diffused activity was harvesting sponges. Demand drove that labor-intensive practice. Sponges had application for medicine and hygiene. Sponge divers in antiquity roamed widely in search of the primitive invertebrate. Varying quality and overfishing dictated the journeying. Ancient sponge divers submerged naked and used a stone weight to speed their descent. They employed a line so that tenders could haul them up. Dispatch when descending and ascending extended their valuable bottom time. In addition to sponges, free-divers stalked fish. The textual evidence suggests that they did not use a spear but grabbed the fish with their bare hands. They dived for octopus, a table item consumed with such appetite that it was associated with gluttony. Octopi starred in terrifying tales. Huge and hungry, they would abandon the sea for land. Ancient divers knew that octopi changed color to match their environment. Natural philosophers tried to figure out how and why they did so. The oysters that produced pearls were a focus of diving in the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Mannar. Because the Atlantic and Mediterranean produced inferior pearls, Greeks and Romans traded with the caravan merchants bringing them from the East. Alexander was said to have marched all the way to India to obtain pearls. Pearl divers worked naked and utilized stone weights to descend. They operated in the Persian Gulf from reed rafts. They carried an iron tool to pry the oyster loose and a bag to collect them. To obtain pearls in India, Western merchants traded commodities like red coral. In contrast to pearl oysters, the Mediterranean was a prime source for the coral. The name coral may derive from the cutting action of the tool divers used to harvest it. Among its ancient uses, red coral was dissolved as a medicine, manufactured into jewelry, and prized as a talisman. Harvesting red coral over time introduced new technology, particularly as fishermen needed to collect it from depths beyond the range of free-divers. The ancients used baited traps to fish the bulk of their murex catch. Lucian and Pliny did refer to murex divers, and Iulius Pollux distinguished their art from that of sponge divers.

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In addition to underwater fishing, professional free-divers contributed to salvaging sunken cargoes. The Madrague de Giens shipwreck had evidence of their activity in recovering a portion of the cargo of wine from the estate of Publius Veveius Papus. The code of Roman law addressed issues of jettison and salvage. One of the reasons for which the port of Ostia had a trade association of free-divers was the need to salvage cargo lost in transfer from sea-going vessels to lighters for the trip upriver. Free-divers assisted building projects. Wealthy Romans encroached upon the sea to build leisure villas along the coast. The Romans also engineered ports. Private and public projects involving construction in water were facilitated by the discovery of hydraulic concrete. Divers kept ports functioning, maintained foundations, and cleared rivers of blockages. In Rome late in the fourth century, the city prefect communicated with the emperor about possible fraud in the building of a bridge over the Tiber River. During the inquest, a diver gave testimony about laying the stonework for the bridge piers. Ancient free-divers conducted military operations. The Greeks had an archetypal hero in Skylliēs of Skione. During the invasion of Xerxes, Skylliēs provided aid to the Persian fleet after a storm, but he then defected to the Greeks and brought along valuable intelligence. An alternate version made him a direct cause for the disaster that decimated the fleet. When the storm hit, he surreptitiously cut the anchor lines of the Persian ships. That left the ships vulnerable to the most feared problem of ancient navigation, a coast downwind and no way to avoid it. Skylliēs taught his daughter Hydnē to dive, and she assisted his underwater sabotage. The Amphictyonic Council honored both with statues at Delphi. Cutting anchor cables remained a viable tactic into the Renaissance. The besieged residents of Tyre used it so effectively against Alexander the Great that he ordered his sailors to replace anchor cable with chain. Free-divers aided those under siege by bringing them food in watertight packing or delivering messages from relief forces. Divers suspended obstructions to protect the entrance to harbors or cleared them for attacking forces. Perforating hulls below the waterline had devastating consequences. Free-divers from ancient Byzantium attached hooks to allow their compatriots to reel in enemy ships rather than sink them. The tactics of ancient free-divers were effective because unseen. Information about the training of ancient free-divers is sparse. Skylliēs training his daughter suggests that the skill was handed down within families. The Greeks associated a few places with skilled free-diving. Skione, Anthedon, and Delos may have had a pool of master divers who attracted apprentices. The Romans had a trade association of free-divers at Ostia and another of fishermen and free-divers at Rome. The two trades in Rome may have shared boats

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as well as knowledge about the Tiber River. There did seem to be a recognized form of ancient training. Plato twice ridiculed anyone who dived without that formal preparation. Free-diving proved a viable means to make swimming profitable. Professional divers earned a living primarily by collecting marketable marine creatures, whether for consumption, exchange, or manufacture into goods, medicine, and dye. Merchants and firms employed free-divers to salvage sunken objects. Governments and private individuals employed them on construction projects. They also provided a service to governments in warfare. Although Skylliēs achieved a measure of fame, almost no other ancient free-divers are known by name. They do not appear on tomb inscriptions. Their social status was so low that they could be tortured during a judicial investigation. In late antiquity the astrologer Iulius Firmicus Maternus lumped divers together with the dregs of society who did mind-dulling, repetitive tasks associated with water. 5.2 Free-Diving: Medieval and Renaissance Continuity Free-diving in the Middle Ages and Renaissance maintained aspects of the ancient legacy. A few practitioners earned legendary status. Anglo-Saxon epic, Nordic sagas, and Celtic legends all celebrated free-divers who submerged to slay terrifying monsters. Beowulf dispatched Grendel’s mother in her underwater mere, Fionn mac Cumhaill notched several serpent kills, and Fergus mac Léti gave his own life to end that of the muirdris. If the struggle were lengthy, medieval diving heroes had the challenge eased by battling in watertight undersea accommodations. After a fortnight of searching underwater, Brian found the island of Fianchaire where the resident Amazons surrendered the required cooking-spit to him. Christian saints could accomplish equally remarkable results without getting wet. Colm Cille took on and pacified the monster in the Ness River. While wandering freely through space and time, Cola Pesce remained a hero in Sicily and Southern Italy. Cursed by his mother, he became a sea creature. In open waters, he could out-perform celebrated feats of Skylliēs himself. According to Pontano’s astrological poem, Cola wounded Scylla and despoiled her cave. But, after a titanic struggle that shook Mount Etna, Cola succumbed to the vortex of Charybdis. Professional free-divers continued to harvest marketable marine creatures. Though sponge diving did not cease, it received almost no notice in Latin sources. Greek free-divers may have monopolized the work. In late antiquity, free-diving for fish was mentioned in literary sources. Ausonius described a boy diving into the Moselle River to recapture a fish that slipped off his hook. Nonnus celebrated a satyr-diver adept at catching speckled fish. He had Lycurgus recruit diving fishermen to pursue Dionysus in his underwater

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hideout. In Renaissance Florence, Francesco De Marchi witnessed the recovery of the corpse of a diving fisherman who had drowned when his drawers caught on a snag. Nicolaus Wynman told the tale of the diving Tübingen tailor so good at catching fish that local fishermen attacked him with every weapon they could muster. Octopi still had appeal at table and were served in the raw bars of late antiquity. Emperor Julian defended the Cynic Diogenes for eating a raw octopus by noting that those who criticized him gulped down raw urchins and oysters. In the Renaissance octopus was thought to have a hallucinogenic effect. Red coral remained a prized item for manufacture and trade, but the contribution of free-divers diminished in light of new technology, a dredge known as the Saint Andrew’s Cross. In late antiquity, pearls became a symbol of imperial splendor in inverse proportion to the political clout of the emperors. Pliny would feel vindicated for his critique of decadent Roman fascination with the shiny jewel. The story of the pearl of Perozes had multiple morals. The tale censured tyranny and greed alike. Arabic poets and geographers described the ongoing work of pearl divers in the Persian Gulf. The industry favored the interests of local princes and merchants by exploiting wage laborers. Naked and poor, the divers blackened their legs and feet so that they did not attract predators. They had a safety line around the waist, carried a bag for the oysters, and used a stone to speed their descent. They struggled to equalize the air spaces in their eyes and sinuses and would purposefully rupture their ear drums. Muslim pearl divers soaked cotton in oil and put it in their ears in the belief that, as the oil leaked out, it clarified the water. They also found various ways to plug their nostrils: small balls shaped from tortoise shell, cloth soaked again in oil, and a clip carved from ivory or horn or tortoise shell. The divers experimented with ways to breathe underwater, none of which sound at all promising. Later Western travelers like Marco Polo and Friar Jordan Catala de Sévérac reported back on the pearl fisheries in the Gulf of Mannar and elsewhere in India. Those contacts foreshadowed the globalization of diving. Pearl beds in the New World subsidized the great age of pearls in Europe. Indigenous divers did the initial collecting until too many were worked to death. Skilled African free-divers were enslaved to replace them on pearl beds in America and salvage sunken ships in Europe. Professional divers assisted the work of harbor maintenance in the Renaissance. That was especially true of the harbor at Genoa whose divers became renowned for their accomplishments. They proved their ability by breaking up rocks underwater. They likely helped guide quarried stone into position for the building of the Old Mole. They could also assist in the building of cofferdams that were pumped free of water to allow sections of the harbor to be cleaned of debris.

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5.3 Free-Diving: Medieval and Renaissance Change Medieval and Renaissance free-diving had elements of continuity with ancient practice. Change occurred in the areas of salvage law and practice, archaeological diving, technology, and training methods. Roman law had established the basic principle of salvage for the later codes. An owner retained the title to jettisoned or shipwrecked goods until he explicitly abandoned such title. If the owner hired a salvage firm to recover sunken goods, he had to pay the salvors fair compensation. The Rhodian Sea Law addressed compensation in greater detail, specifying a base rate of 20% of the value of the items recovered. It also factored in two variables. The rate increased for items of greater value and for greater depth at which the divers had to work. Over the course of the Middle Ages and Renaissance some codes offered fewer incentives to entrepreneurs engaged in salvage and at times stipulated disincentives. Other codes were more generous. Theft of salvaged goods and even wrecking to steal seaborne goods remained a problem. Venice adopted particularly severe sanctions to interdict the theft of items salvaged from the sea. An Arab physician and mathematician named Abū al-Ṣalt Umayyah oversaw the effort to raise a ship that sank off the port of Alexandria. He designed machinery for the lift and captured the hull in intertwined silk ropes. The attempt failed when the silk ropes snapped, and the failure may explain Abū al-Ṣalt’s imprisonment. Arab salvage crews at Aden had more success raising a cargo of iron from India. The residents of Genoa pressured the government to recover valuable wool they had contributed to buffer a raft that still succumbed to artillery fire in the harbor. While at sea, divers might attempt salvage or repairs. The technology of lifting hulls, inspired by ancient descriptions of barging obelisks on the Nile, put the recovery of sunken hulls on a more solid engineering foundation. In an Aesopic fable Leon Battista Alberti characterized the Ocean as willing to cooperate with human salvage efforts. Alberti also utilized free-divers for the first time in an archaeological context underwater. He recruited the best divers of the day, those from his birthplace of Genoa, to assist his effort to recover an ancient ship from lago di Nemi near Rome. Genoese divers gave two demonstrations of their abilities. An unnamed diver was so skilled at breath-holding that he was able to break up a rock cliff blocking the harbor’s entrance. A diver named Andrea, a Skylliēs redivivus, cut the anchor cable of the Catalan flagship during the battle of Bonifacio. He turned the barrier of five ships into a confused jumble and allowed relief vessels to reach the besieged citizens. Alberti’s work at lago di Nemi in the 1440s received the patronage of the cardinal-proprietor, Prospero Colonna. Previous items recovered from the wreck established that the wood and fasteners were still in excellent condition.

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Alberti planned to lift it whole. He asked the free-divers to submerge and determine how much of the ship remained and if it was intact. Their report gave him further confidence to proceed as planned. He had the divers attach iron hooks on cables to the wreck, and he had carpenters operate winches to fish it out. The cables broke, and the lift failed. Pope Pius II claimed that the divers could make out a palace on board the ship. They had likewise discerned a metal chest and a clay water jar with a gilt bronze lid. Pius saw those items as trace evidence for the type of luxury yacht operated by rulers in his own day. In 1535 two military engineers took up the quest to recover the Nemi ship. One of the two, Guillaume de Lorraine had invented a one-man diving bell and proved its effectiveness by salvaging cannon from a galley wrecked at Civitavecchia. A fellow engineer, Francesco De Marchi, described the bell and the way they used it to investigate the Nemi ship. De Marchi claimed that the bell gave an archaeological diver three advantages. It allowed the diver a bottom time of up to one hour, it allowed him to see better through a crystal viewing port, and it allowed him to use his lower arms for work outside the bell. For De Marchi, the limit on diving was due more to the cold experienced by the parts of the body immersed in water than from a lack of breathable air. On De Marchi’s first dive, he had problems equalizing the pressure in his ears and ruptured his ear drum. Unlike Alberti, who thought that the wreck was in good enough condition to recover whole, De Marchi and Guillaume decided to recover it in pieces. The work team devised a viable system to obtain its measurements. They attached lines to the extremities, plumbed the lines at the surface, and measured the distance between them. Their measurements suggest that approximately 70% of the wreck was exposed on the bottom of the lake. The two engineers pulled from the wreck two muleloads of wood, a pile of fasteners, and a few loose decorative items. Their study of those materials in a laboratory in Rome led them to identify three species of wood used to build the ship and the existence of mortise and tenon joinery between the edges of the planks. Visual reconnaissance convinced them that structures were still standing on the deck. Their research ended abruptly when thieves emptied their Roman lab. Archaeological and salvage diving over the next three centuries relied on the technology of the diving bell pioneered by Guillaume and De Marchi. Technology represented a third area of discontinuity with ancient practice. Medieval Europeans in the Latin West welcomed the mechanical aspects of technology. They explored technology as a labor-saving device. That was evident in the method that Renaissance engineers developed to raise heavy objects from the sea bottom. Alberti discussed the method as one of two ways to remove obstructions from rivers. Architects receiving such a commission

366

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could use lifting machinery, as he tried to do at lago di Nemi. They could also use boat hulls ballasted down in the water. Taccola, a contemporary of Alberti, illustrated the method by showing two boats loaded with stones in preparation for lifting a column off the bottom. Taccola also illustrated a diver with a breathing tube who would assist by tying cables to the column. In the sixteenth century, the mathematician Niccolò Tartaglia grounded the method in scientific principles. Tartaglia posited that the law of buoyancy, the absence of a vacuum, and the specific gravity of materials combined to explain the efficacy of using ballasted hulls for lifting submerged objects. He recommended the use of full-size ships to recover a sunken ship. Free-divers had to position an elaborate cradle of ropes and anchors prior to the lift itself. Olaus Magnus indicated that northern divers performed a similar service during salvage operations. They fixed hawsers under sunken hulls prior to the lift. The mechanical approach to technology affected the harvesting of red coral in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. An encounter that Ciriaco d’Ancona had with two young coral divers in the Gulf of Ambracia insinuated the consequences. The divers told Ciriaco that they had just completed a long search for red coral. The need to voyage across so much of the Western Mediterranean suggests overfishing, particularly at shallow depths. Given the lucrative demand for coral, fishermen exploited the Saint Andrew’s Cross. The arms of the device proved effective in dragging the bottom and depleting stocks. In the sixteenth century, when an Italian entrepreneur wanted to introduce a similar dredge on the pearl oyster banks in the Gulf of Mexico, local colonists sued to block its usage. Eventually, a permit was issued. As the indigenous divers predicted, the dredge did severe damage to supplies of oysters and the ecology that nurtured them. Renaissance engineers designed technology to assist divers in breathing and seeing underwater. If the engineers could develop a way to supply a free-diver with supplementary air, he would not have to surface every two minutes. Extended bottom time meant greater work efficiency. The idea had classical roots. Aristotle pondered a snorkel for a diver that would function like an elephant’s trunk. And the author of the Problems proposed inverting a cauldron and placing it over a diver’s head. The Middle Ages seemed fascinated by legends of divers remaining underwater for incredible amounts of time. They envisioned Alexander the Great sealed inside a glass container and lowered down. They imagined the Celt Brian visiting the submerged island of Fianchaire in his water dress and an apparently glass helmet. In Wynman’s dialogue the protagonists discussed rumors that divers utilized glass helmets. The turn to glass indicates a second priority: improving a diver’s ability to see

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underwater. But Wynman dismissed the rumors of a watertight glass fitting around the diver’s head. He felt that no glass could resist the pressure of the water as the diver descended. Developing the inverted cauldron proved a fruitful line of research. On a small scale, engineers demonstrated the viability of the technology when they designed underwater lanterns. The lanterns were open on the bottom and would keep a candle lit for as long as the lantern remained vertical and the oxygen sufficed. Guillaume of Lorraine experimented with the technology before upping the scale to his one-man bell. Knowing the efficacy of the invention, Guillaume and Francesco De Marchi safeguarded its secrets. Other engineers proposed a bellows arrangement or an air bag which would work with pressure if positioned properly on the diver’s chest. Tartaglia’s oversized top half of an hourglass incorporated the glass sphere into a structure that would help to maintain it in a vertical position, allow the diver to control his descent and ascent, and permit him to see underwater. Renaissance engineers expended more effort trying to design a diving hood with a flexible breathing tube attached to a float on the surface. For visibility they incorporated glass eyes into the hood. Despite their tinkering with the design into the sixteenth century, it was a dead end. Humans could not use such a breathing hose effectively at a depth greater than half a meter. Their research methods mirrored a fundamental flaw of ancient science. Both were remiss for their lack of experimentation. The final discontinuity involved methods for training free-divers in the Renaissance. The evidence for formal preparation of free-divers in the Middle Ages is vague. The Nordic sagas featured diving by Grettir who oriented himself underwater by feel and topography, particularly the depth of the water. Orientation may have been a skill taught as part of a course. Northern divers may have used a down line as essential safety equipment. When Grettir dived under the falls, a lackadaisical priest was supposed to mind his line. Dante compared the ascent of Geryon rising from the turgid air of the Inferno to a diver returning to the surface after freeing a fouled anchor. He presented the monster emerging from the thick atmosphere of the Inferno by extending his arms, pulling in his legs, and drawing the turgid air to himself with his paws. Somewhere in Hell Geryon learned to do an ethereal breaststroke and use it to ascend. He bequeathed to commentators the conundrum whether the free-diver was a generic sailor on board ship or a trained specialist. Many commentators opted for a sailor pressed into service. That explained why he swam so forcefully to get back to the surface. A minority considered the diver a specialist. Before Dante crafted his comparison, a notary in Italy had used the

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term palombarus for a free-diver. If the coined term had for its root the word for anchor cable (palomba), then the specialist descended along the cable to the anchor and shinnied back up it. Bits and pieces of evidence from non-fictional sources point to sailors who performed diving tasks. In the twelfth century mariners did the salvage diving at Aden to recover a significant portion of the iron cargo. Olaus Magnus said that sailors stuck in harbor competed to retrieve an object thrown into the water. Diving competitions were unknown in antiquity unless the contest at Hermione for Dionysus of the Black Goatskin involved diving as well as swimming. The competition to retrieve the golden cup of Frederick II proved the undoing of Cola Pesce. There are clues to specialist divers in the Renaissance as well. The Arsenal at Venice had a cadre of trained divers ready to show their civic commitment by keeping Venice’s vital shipping lanes open. A diving sailor re-hung the rudder on the ship ferrying Richard Guylforde and his fellow pilgrims back from the Holy Land visit. The most important ships in Iberian convoys from the New World had a diver ready to plug leaks at sea. Portuguese divers contracted with the government to recover guns from ships that sank near Lisbon. Leon Battista Alberti insinuated that Renaissance divers underwent a course of training. He described the cliff-busting diver at Genoa as endowed with natural ability and professional preparation. That allowed him to stay underwater for a significant time in order to do his job. Alberti dismissed the rumor that he could remain submerged for the better part of an hour. But he accepted that free-diving had become an art in Genoa, and he had such admiration for the abilities of Genoese divers that he hired them for his archaeological work at lago di Nemi. As for swimming, ancient proverbs were a humble catalyst for the rebirth of free-diving. Makarios Chrysokephalos conserved the saying that a Skionian diver typified the laborer who did his job well. The Delian diver who alone could penetrate the obscurity of the philosophical positions of Heraclitus was sufficiently well known to migrate in context. In the ninth century at Constantinople, Leon the Philosopher reintroduced the Delian diver to characterize the difficulty of understanding a work of Apollonius of Perga on Conic Sections. The Suda included the original quotations from Diogenes Laertius. Erasmus devoted an entry to the saying in his Adages. He argued persuasively that the original intent of the phrasing meant more than swimming. Only a Delian diver could plumb the depths of the obscure reasoning of Heraclitus. Erasmus also purloined an adage from the Greek collection of Michael Apostolios which had a skilled diver remonstrating with an apprentice. While the master had taught the student the art of diving, the student repaid him by trying to drown him. Free-diving was an art.

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Wynman and Digby conceptualized swimming as an art and treated freediving as an integral application. Wynman traced free-diving to classical times. He interpreted a passage in Lucan to describe a Phocaean adept at free-diving. The citizen of Marseilles could free a fouled anchor. The Phocaean likewise made helpful contributions to naval warfare. He used his diving skills to pull enemy rowers from their galleys or drown those already in the water. Wynman’s dialogue proposed that the best free-divers were born under the sign of Pisces and had a small spleen. He was wrong about both. Wynman’s dialogue partners also exchanged rumors about new diving technology in their day. They were dubious that a large glass bound tightly around the face would stand up to the pressure underwater and felt that the diving bell had greater promise. In that they were proven correct. Digby gave greater attention to methods of free-diving because he considered the skill proof that humans had capacities in the water lacking even to fish. We can submerge and search for objects on the bottom. A free-diver had to produce momentum in order to get below the surface. Humans by nature struggle to descend. Digby offered two ways to generate momentum: either a surface dive while standing in water or a head-first dive from a platform. Digby supplied techniques to regulate the depth we reach once below the surface and orient ourselves while swimming in the opaque gloom. The hands serve as a sort of rudder, and the thumb and fingers function as a direction-finder. A diver searching the bottom should swim in a circle. Digby modeled the technique on the way that dogs hunt prey. To return to the surface, the diver should combine his earlier technique for an easy change of direction with steady pumping of the hands. For Digby free-diving had a variety of beneficial uses. It aided the search for an object lost on the bottom, it permitted a swimmer to rescue someone who had sunk to the bottom, and it afforded a way to reach in secret a variety of locations. From ancient times free-diving assisted furtive military operations. In late antiquity, Libanius compared a sneak attack of the emperor Julian to an underwater diver hiding from enemy scouts. In the sixteenth century, Olaus Magnus said that free-divers had furtively delivered messages under the Rhine to those besieged at Neuss. Digby offered drills to assist surreptitious and salvage diving. For the former, he recommended an exercise in swimming the way a dolphin does. That marine mammal remained below the surface for as long as possible before breaching to take in a quick breath. For the latter, he recommended an exercise in retrieving easily visible objects. On a single breath a free-diver should submerge and collect up to four items in the order in which they were cast into the water. Richard Mulcaster had discussed techniques to increase the time one can hold his breath, but he did not apply the skill to the training of free-divers.

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The fact that Mulcaster did not treat breath retention for divers is one index of a lag in Renaissance Europe. Girolamo Mercuriale noted that his contemporaries did not esteem swimming and diving as the ancients had done in spades. Renaissance entrepreneurs, whether engaged in marketing pearls or salvaging ships and cargo, had a growing pool of slave labor at their disposition. For firms requiring competent free-divers, the entrepreneurs were doubly fortunate that Native Americans and Black Africans had greater ability to swim and dive than most Europeans. The first African slave permitted to give testimony in England’s Admiralty Court was a free-diver named Jacques Frances. He was purchased by Italian entrepreneurs who won salvage contracts in the waters off Southampton. The Court likely permitted his testimony in part because Frances had contributed to the effort to salvage Mary Rose, a warship of Henry VIII that has remained an icon of British naval seafaring. To exploit the pearl beds of the New World, Spanish entrepreneurs and imperial administrators utilized the forced labor of indigenous free-divers. They quickly burned through the pool of exploitable labor in the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico. To compensate, they impressed Indians from the mainland and got the Crown to approve the import of African slaves. Apologists like Bartolomé de Las Casas denounced the ruthless exploitation of the Indians. Beaten during their workday if they held onto the boat to rest, they were poorly nourished and locked up in chains at night. They dived with the usual equipment: naked bodies, nets, and stone weights. During their descent, the indigenous divers had a way of rigging the weights to hang over their shoulders. The Spanish entrepreneurs took special care to assure that no pearls were stolen. Officials recorded every oyster shell opened on the boat. Those that were not immediately checked were warehoused in settlement buildings on shore. The king received his fifth of the profits from pearling. That steady income was gratifying in the years before the Spaniards exploited American silver mines. A single Renaissance source described a swim instructor. The anonymous Ethiopian trained the young people of Genoa. He embodied features of Renaissance swimming and free-diving. Africans swam and dived with skill, while Europeans lagged behind. Chattel slavery made African divers a ready pool of exploitable labor. A qualified free-diver was rated an ideal swim instructor. The term kolymbētes established that the ancient Greeks regarded the two skills as intimately related; they used the same word for both. Even the habit of telling fish stories did not die easily. The Ethiopian in Genoa earned a brief mention in Paolo Giovio’s book on the fishes of the Roman world because he had to deal with a fearsome ox-ray that was roaming the coastal waters. The giant ray made an unexpected appearance as the Black African was teaching his young protégés. The African immediately swam in the ray’s

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direction. Giovio pondered whether he did so from curiosity about the creature or a desire to reassure his students that the creature was harmless. No one could put the question to the instructor because the ray swallowed him whole. The claim is ludicrous: rays do not swallow a human being whole, not even in more manageable bites. The instinctive response of the African more properly seems an effort to protect his wards. He demonstrated estimable solidarity. That was in distinct contrast to the way that Europeans treated him and his fellow Ethiopians.

Appendices table 1

Military swimming in ancient land battles

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

Means

Source

883–59 BCE (reliefs)

Turbulent river

Assyrians

Palace of Aššurnasirpal II (British Museum)

522 BCE

Tigris R. / Rebellion of Nadintabaira Lake / Roman-Sabine conflict under Romulus

Persians under Darius I

Aided: inflated skins Unaided (drowning?) Aided: inflated skins / camels / horseback Unaided: in armor Livy suggests on horseback

c. 508 BCE

Mettus Curtius (Sabine)

Horatius Cocles Pons Sublicius over Tiber R. / Rome vs. Etruscan Lars Porsenna

Unaided: in armor and wounded

a Kuhrt, 144 (no. 18).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2021 | doi:10.1163/9789004446199_017

Bisitun inscriptiona

Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.42.5–6, 2.46.3 C. Calpurnius Piso (Varro Ling. 5.149) Livy 1.12.8–10, 1.13.5 Polyb. 6.55 Livy 2.10.1–13 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.23.3–25.4 Verg. Aen. 8.649–50 Frontin. Str. 2.13.5. Plut. Vit. Publicola 16.4–7 Plut. Mor. Parallela Graeca et Romana 307d–e Val. Max. 3.2.1 Juv. 3.8.261–65 Flor. 1.10 (1.4.4–5) Cass. Dio 45.31 (Cicero)

374 table 1

Appendices Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

Means

Source

c. 508 BCE

Tiber R. / Rome Cloelia vs. Etruscan Lars Porsenna

Unaided: with other female hostages

Livy 2.13.6–11 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.33.1–4, 5.35.2 Verg. Aen. 8.651 Sil. Pun. 10.488–502 Plut. Vit. Publicola 18.2–19.5 Val. Max. 3.2.2 Juv. 3.8.261–65 Flor. 1.10 (1.4.8) Cass. Dio 45.31 (Cicero) Hdt. 8.89, 129

Unaided: drowned if did not know how to swim Tiber R. / Romans Veientes in flight Unaided: 426 BCE unarmed (only a (reign of Tullus vs. Veientes few swam across and allies from Hostilius while experi672–41 BCE) Fidenae enced swimmers drowned) Unaided 426/425 BCE Ambracian Gulf Ambracians / battle of Olpae (Greeks) (Peloponnesian War) 401 BCE Euphrates R. 10,000 Greeks Aided: animal skins carried as tent covers and stuffed with hay Tigris R. Persians Aided: rafts made of skins Centrites (Zirmas 10,000 Greeks Unaided: Greek / Zarm) R. scouts Aided: army at ford 480–79 BCE

Persians under Aegean Gulf / Siege of Potidaea Artabazus (Persian Wars)

Livy 4.33.10–12 (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.25.1–5)

Thuc. 3.112.5–8

Xen. An. 1.5.10

Xen. An. 2.4.28 Xen. An. 4.3.6–12

375

Appendices table 1

Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

Means

Source

396 BCE

Straits of Messina Messenians (Greeks) battle of the Allia Romans in flight River / Gauls vs. Romans

Unaided across Straits (25%) Unaided: bravest in armor / rest threw away arms / many lacked skill Aided: cork float

Diod. Sic. 14.57.4–5

390/387 BCE

390/387 BCE

Tiber R. / Gallic siege of Rome

Roman Pontius Cominius

389 BCE

Bay of Scalea / Laus (S. Bartolo di Marcellina) Hellespont / Battle at Abydus Sardon (Sandanus) R. / battle of Methone Pagasetic Gulf / battle of Crocus Field Cydnus R. / Campaign of Alexander

Thurini (Greeks) Unaided

332 BCE

Mediterranean / Siege of Tyre

Tyrians (Phoenicians)

331 BCE

Danube R. at island of Peuce / Triballian allies of Getae

Macedonian soldiers

389/88 BCE 355/54 BCE

352 BCE

333 BCE

Diod. Sic. 14.114–15 Livy 5.38.5–9

Diod. Sic. 14.116.3–5 Livy 5.46.8–10 Plut. Vit. Cam. 25 Frontin. Str. 3.13.1 Diod. Sic. 14.102.1–2

Athenians under Iphicrates Philip of Macedon

Aided: olive oil and wine vs cold Unaided: wounded

Frontin. Str. 1.4.7

Phocians (Greeks)

Unaided: stripped off armor Unaided: swam? bathed?

Diod. Sic. 16.35.5–6

Alexander

Plut. Mor. Parallela Graeca et Romana 307d–e

Curt. 3.5.1–6 Just. Epit. 11.8.3–9 Plut. Vit. Alex. 19.2 Arr. Anab. 2.4.7 Luc. Domus 1 Arr. Anab. 2.19.4, 2.20.9–10, 2.22.5

Unaided (“without difficulty” from fireship and rammed galleys) Arr. Anab. 1.3.5–4.5 Aided: dugout canoes / rafts from tent covers stuffed with hay

376 table 1

Appendices Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

329 BCE

Oxus (Amu Darya) R. / Alexander vs. Bessus of Bactria Iaxartes (Tanais / Syr Darya) R. / Alexander vs. Scythians

329 BCE

327 BCE

Nysa (India)

326 BCE

Hydaspes (Jhelum) R. (island) / Alexander vs. King Porus Hydaspes R. (island for crossing) Acesines (Chenab) R. / Alexander in India Confluence of Hydaspes and Acesines R. / Alexander in India Indus R. (tidal bore) / Alexander in India Arabian Sea (squall at Cabana) / fleet of Nearchus

326 BCE

325 BCE

325 BCE

Means

Macedonian soldiers

Aided: hides stuffed with straw (five days for entire army) Macedonian Aided: hoplites soldiers and cavalry on rafts / lightarmed soldiers on skins stuffed with straw Alexander Did not know (lament) how to swim Macedonian and Unaided: Hindi soldiers Macedonian youths carried lances / Hindi undetected Macedonian Aided: ford / soldiers boats / skin rafts

Source Curt. 7.5.17–18 Arr. Anab. 3.29.2–4

Curt. 7.8.6, 7.9.2–5

Plut. Vit. Alex. 58.4 Curt. 8.13.12–16

Curt. 8.13.17–27 Arr. Anab. 5.11.1–13.4 Arr. Anab. 5.20.8–10

Macedonian soldiers

Aided: boats / hides stuffed with straw

Alexander’s flagship caught in rapids

Aided: swam supported by friends? prepared to swim? Unaided: swam to dry spots

Diod. Sic. 17.97.1–3 Curt. 9.4.8–14

Unaided: lightarmed troops swam to shore nearby

Arr. Indica 23.2–3

Macedonian crews Macedonian soldiers on ships that sank

Curt. 9.9.9–19

377

Appendices table 1

Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

325 BCE

Lagoon where Hingol (Tomerus) R. met Arabian Sea / Fisheaters Nile R. / wars of the Diadochi (Perdiccas vs Ptolemy)

321 BCE

316 BCE

279 BCE

229/228 BCE

222/221 BCE

218 BCE

218 BCE

Means

Source

Arr. Indica 24.5–8 Macedonian sol- Unaided: lightdiers in amphibi- armed troops swam to shallows ous attack Macedonian soldiers in flight

Unaided: better swimmers saved by discarding arms / those not skilled drowned or eaten by crocodiles Unaided: most Macedonian Coprates R. / swimmers soldiers routed Eumenes of (Antigonus could perished / 4,000 Cardia vs. non-swimmers not help them Antigonus surrendered Monophthalmus without boats) Aided: circular Tolistobogii Spercheius R. / Gallic Tolistobogii (swimmers and shield as float / tall waded tallest soldiers) vs. Greeks Carthaginian Aided: swept River in Spain / Carthaginians vs. Hamilcar Barkas from horse saving sons Orissans Seleucid soldiers Unaided: drunk Tigris R. at of Antiochus III and drowned Ctesiphon / Antiochus III vs Megas Molon Aided: Spaniards Spanish auxRhône R. / swam on shields iliaries and Second Punic over skins stuffed cavalry(?) of War with clothes Hannibal Po R. / Second Carthagian cav- Unaided Punic War alry and Spanish Aided: elephant dam auxiliaries Questioned by Livy (even if they used inflated skins)

Diod. Sic. 18.34.6–35.6

Diod. Sic. 19.18.4–6

Paus. 10(Phocis, Ozolian Locri).20.6–8 Diod. Sic. 25.10.4

Polyb. 5.46.7–48.9

Livy 21.27.1–28.12

Lucius Coelius Antipater (Livy 21.47.4–6) Cass. Dio 14 fr. (Zonar. 8.24)

378 table 1

Appendices Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

218 BCE

battle of the Trebia (Trebbia) River / Second Punic War battle of Lake Trasimene / Second Punic War Volturnus (Volturno) R. / Second Punic War Peneus R. / Third Macedonian War

Roman Frondicius

217 BCE

216 BCE?

171 BCE

168 BCE

168 BCE c. 168–64 BCE

160 BCE 147 BCE

105/104 BCE

102/101 BCE

Means

Source

Roman soldiers in flight

Unaided: many perished due to weight of armor

Livy 21.54–56 App. Hann. 7.24–29 Sil. Pun. 4.585–97

Roman soldiers in flight

Unaided: perished due to weight of armor / suicide to avoid slaughter Unaided: disguised by branch

Polyb. 3.84.8–11 App. Han. 7.39–42 Livy 22.6.5–7

Roman soldiers in flight from Macedonians Aegean Sea near Galatians (under Erythrae / Third Eumenes II of Macedonian War Pergamum) Thermaic Gulf / Macedonians in battle of Pydna retreat Canal at Eleusis Egyptian Dionysius (Alexandria) / Petosarapis palace revolt Jonathan and felJordan R. / Maccabean Revolt low Jewish rebels Carthaginian solHarbor of Carthage / Third diers on suicide mission Punic War Roman soldier Rhône R. after battle of Arausio Sertorius (Orange) Adige R. / Marius German Cimbri vs Cimbri (“barbaric idiocy”)

Plin. HN 17.7

Unaided: at night Livy 42.61.6–8

Aided: on horseback?

Livy 44.28.6–13

Unaided: Livy 44.42.4–6 weaponless Unaided: naked / Diod. Sic. 31.15a.1–4 in flight Unaided Unaided: carrying unlit torches Unaided: wounded / with shield and breastplate Unaided: winter / tried to swim / log dam

Joseph. AJ 13.1.3.14 1 Macc. 9.43–50 App. Pun. 8.124

Plut. Vit. Sert. 3.1

Flor. 3.3 (1.38.12–13)

379

Appendices table 1

Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

88 BCE

Gulf of Formiae near Minturnae / Marius vs. Sulla Aegean Sea (massacre at Adramyttium) / First Mithridatic War Propontis / siege of Cyzicus / Third Mithridatic War

88 BCE

73 BCE

73 BCE

c. 61–44 BCE

60 BCE

55–54 BCE

55–54 BCE 49 BCE 49 BCE

Means

Roman Marius in Aided: by two flight slaves Roman and Italian colonists

Source Plut. Mar. 37.1–2

Unaided: App. Mith. 12.88 attempted escape

Roman soldier as Aided: two messenger inflated leather skins and straps

Straits of Messina Slaves in army of Aided: improSpartacus vised wicker / revolt of shields and dolia Spartacus rafts Rivers Julius Caesar and Unaided his army Aided: inflated skins Caesarean named Unaided: in Bay of Cádiz Publius Scaevius armor (Gades) / campaign vs. Lusitani English Channel Caesarean named Unaided: in Scaevius armor (two / expedition breastplates) and invasion of Britain Unaided: in Britain Caesarean (unnamed) armor Sicoris R. (Ilerda) Lusitani and Aided: inflatable / Civil War Celtiberians skins Sicoris R. (Ilerda) Caesareans (chal- Unaided: muscu/ Civil War lenged by Caesar) lar strokes

Frontin. Str. 3.13.6 Sall. Hist. 3.25 (37M, 23Mc, 19D, 20K) Flor. 3.5 (1.40.15–17) Flor. 3.20 (2.8.6–7, 13)

Suet. Iul. 57

Cass. Dio 37.52.2–4

Val. Max. 3.2.23b

Plut. Vit. Caes. 16.3–4 Caes. BCiv. 1.48.1–7 Lucan 4.148–54

380 table 1

Appendices Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

48–47 BCE

Harbor of Alexandria (Pharos) / Civil War

48–47 BCE

Alexandrians Harbor of Alexandria (Pharos) / Civil War Nile R. / Civil War German cavalry (allies of Caesar) Nile R. / Civil War Egyptians (under Ptolemy) Caesareans Bay of Cádiz (under C. Didius) (Gades) / Civil War Residents of city Xanthus R. / imperium maius of Xanthus of Brutus in East Marine Myrtilus

47 BCE 47 BCE 45 BCE

43/42 BCE

1st cent. CE 16 CE

Ems R. / campaign of Germanicus

16 CE

battle of Idistaviso near Weser R. (Day 1) / Germanicus battle of Idistaviso near Weser R. (Day 2) Lea R.? (in Britain) / invasion of Claudius

16 CE

43 CE

Julius Caesar

Means

Source

Unaided: with cloak and papers?

Unaided

BAlex. 21.1–3 Plut. Vit. Caes. 49.7–8 Suet. Iul. 64 App. B Civ. 2.90, 150 Flor. 4.2 (2.13.59) Cass. Dio 42.40.3–5. BAlex. 18

Unaided

BAlex 29

Unaided

BAlex 31

Unaided

BHisp. 40

Unaided: underwater / caught in nets Aided: shield as float Batavi allied with Unaided: some Rome uncharacteristically drowned due to confusion Batavi allied with Unaided Rome

Plut. Vit. Brut. 30.6–7

Anth. Pal. 9.42 Tac. Ann. 2.8

Tac. Ann. 2.17

Tac. Ann. 2.17 Germans in flight Unaided: many killed / many drowned Cass. Dio 60.20.1–4 Unaided: in “Celts” (Batavi) allied with Rome armor Romans followed Swam? (“in some way”)

381

Appendices table 1

Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

43 CE

Thames estuary (skirmish) / Claudius island of Mona (Anglesey) / campaign of Suetonius Paullinus Britain / revolt of Boudicca

“Celts” allied with Unaided Rome

Cass. Dio 60.20.5–6

Roman auxiliaries (Batavi)

Unaided: swam alongside horses

Tac. Ann. 14.29

Celts

Kinneret (Tarichaeae) / Jewish War Po R. at Bedriacum (Betriacum) / Civil War Mosa (Maas) R. bridge / Batavian revolt Rhine R. marsh near Castra Vetera (Xanten) / Batavian revolt

Jewish residents in flight

Cass. Unaided: swim Dio 62(Epitome).5.6 rivers naked / Romans have difficulty in boats Unaided: slaugh- Joseph. BJ 3.497–502 tered by Romans

58/59 CE

61 CE

67 CE

69 CE

70 CE

70 CE

70 CE

Germans supporting Vitellius

Means

Unaided

Batavi vs German Unaided auxiliaries

Romans (weighed down by arms and afraid of swimming) versus Batavi (lightly armed and used to swimming) Rhine R. on plain Romans versus at Castra Vetera / Batavi (struggle in marshland) Batavian revolt

Unaided

Source

Tac. Hist. 2.34–35

Tac. Hist. 4.66

Tac. Hist. 5.14–15

Unaided: German Tac. Hist. 5.18 Bructeri from dam

382 table 1

Appendices Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

70 CE

Rhine R. at Vada / Romans versus Batavian revolt Batavi

Tac. Hist. 5.21

78/79 CE

island of Mona (Anglesey) / campaign of Agricola

Tac. Agr. 18.3–5

c. 118 CE

Ister (Danube) R. / Hadrian vs. barbarians Ister (Danube) R. / border garrison

Unaided: Batavian commander Civilis across Rhine after abandoning horse Roman auxiliaUnaided: conries (Batavi) trolling horses (hereditary knack for swimming) “Batavi” offered Unaided: fully intimidating dis- armed play of swimming Unaided: “just as Soldier he was” on sentry (stratiōtēs) in duty at night Roman army Persian soldiers Unaided: slaughunder Shapur II tered or drowned in artificial lake Raiding party of Isauri Light-armed Roman auxiliaries under Bainobaudes

Unaided + Aided: dugouts Aided: on shields as if dugouts (Unaided + Aided: boats)

Amm. Marc. 14.2.9–10 Amm. Marc. 16.11.8–9 (Lib. 18.45)

Retreating Germans under Chnodomar

Unaided: trusted Amm. Marc. 16.12.55–57 ability to swim (inept drowned) Lib. 18.60 Aided: adroitly maneuvered shields

172/173 CE

350

354 357

357

Mygdonius (Çakçak Deresı) R. / battle of Nisibis Melas (Manavgat) R. Rhine R. (Alamanni on islands) / campaign of Julian (Caesar) Rhine R. / battle of Strasbourg / Julian

Means

Source

Cass. Dio 69 (Epitome).9.6 Cass. Dio 72 (Epitome).5.2 Julian. Or. 1.27c–28a

383

Appendices table 1

Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

Means

Source

358

Pathissus (Tisza) Fleeing R. Limigantes (rebel slaves) Tigris R. at Iapsis Friends of Roman defector Antoninus Roman soldiers Naarmalcha (Royal) River or of Julian Diversionary Canal / Julian’s invasion of Persia attack on rear by Lucillianus and Victor Tigris R. / battle Roman soldiers of Julian of Ctesiphon / Julian’s Persian invasion Tigris R. in flood Gallic and Northern stage / Jovian’s German auxiliaretreat from ries of Jovian Persia

Unaided: some killed / many drowned Unaided: skilled in swimming (nandi peritia) Unaided: cavalry (Julian had lightarmed infantry cross on pontoon bridge) Unaided? Aided: on wide curved shields (less courageous than Sertorius) Unaided: taught (instituti) to cross formidable rivers Contrast: many Romans could not swim (nandi imperiti) Unaided: awkward swimmers (nandi imperitia) drowned Aided: makeshift rafts/ held onto horses and swam / sat and paddled inflated leather bags / found other aids

Amm. Marc. 17.13.15

358/59

363

363

363

363

Tigris R. / Jovian’s Mutineers from Persian retreat army of Jovian

363

Tigris R. / Jovian’s Roman soldiers Persian retreat of Jovian

Amm. Marc. 18.5.3

Amm. Marc. 24.2.7–8 Zos. 3.16

Amm. Marc. 24.6.4–7

Amm. Marc. 25.6.11–14

Amm. Marc. 25.8.1

Amm. Marc. 25.8.2–3

384 table 1

Appendices Military swimming in ancient land battles (cont.)

Date

Location / battle Protagonists

372

Euphrates R. / Valens imprisoned rebel Pap

King Pap(a) of Armenia and 300 horsemen fleeing captivity

376

Danube R. / Tervingi fleeing Huns

Valens allowed Tervingi to cross river

386

Roman ambush Danube R. / Greuthungi under of night crossing Odotheus versus by Greuthungi Romans under Promotus

402

Adda (Addua) R. Stilicho leading (at bridge) / cam- Roman forces to rescue Honorius paign vs. Alaric in Milan Vandals in flight Tyrrhenian Sea from Majorian (battle along Campanian shores) / Majorian vs. Geiseric Po R. near Milan / Messenger Paulus Gothic Wars sent to dawdling relief forces

458

538

Means

Source

Aided since unable to swim (nandi imprudentia): rafts of mattresses supported by inflated wineskins / swimming horses Aided: boats / rafts / dugouts Unaided: impatient tried to swim and drowned Unaided: drowned under weight of arms / a few swam to shore where slaughtered Unaided: compared to Horatius Cocles

Amm. Marc. 30.1.8–10

Amm. Marc. 31.4.5

Zos. 4.39

Claud. 6 Cons. Hon. 441–90

Aided: on horse- Sid. Apoll. Carm. 2.5.419–24 back well into sea / shameful swimming (turpis natatus) Unaided

Procop. Goth. 6.21.1–5, 11

385

Appendices table 2

Art Agriculture

Everard Digby’s listing of the arts, their originators, and their handbooks

Originator(s)

Handbook(s)

Columella Virgil Martial Drilling Vegetius Medicine Hippocrates Galen Jurisprudence Justinian Seven Liberal Arts Priscian Aristotle Cicero Euclid Boethius Ptolemy Cosmography Pomponius Mela Sebastian Münster Global Mapping Gerardus Mercator Abraham Ortelius Theatrum orbis terrarum Magic (natural) Girolamo Cardano Alessio di Piemonte (Girolamo Ruscelli) Albertus Magnus Magic (supernatural) Roger Bacon – Necromantia Angelo Catto Peter Lombard – Synomantia Pietro d’Abano (Albanus) – Geomantia Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa – Arithmantia von Nettesheim – Pyromantia Abbot Trithemius – Chiromantia Symbols (ars characterica) Egyptian Temple Guardians Sufi Muslims Babylonian Diviners Paracelsus Alchemy Geber (Jabir ibn Hayyan) Raymond Lull Hermes Trismegistus

386 table 2

Appendices Everard Digby’s listing of the arts, their originators, and their handbooks (cont.)

Art

Originator(s)

Cabbala

Johannes Reuchlin Rabbinites Talmudists? (Thelundici)

Spirits (ars pneumatica) (lower) Spirits (higher)

table 3

Apollonius

Handbook(s)

Speculatio angelica (Almandal?) Many untitled books Arbatel Testament of Solomon

Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility

Skill

Method

Tropica expedita Turnings made easy

One palm pushes water away Other draws water in

Conversio campanilis Bell turning

Circumvolutio Spinning around

Utility

Avoid ship coming at you Escape sudden threat from lions, bears, or ferocious dogs On stomach: draw legs in Turn without hitting bank and thrust down / arc face in a narrow stream forward On back: throw legs toward buttocks and push them down / arc head forward If turning to right: extend If swimming on back, can arm and hand in front as roll over to see what lies far as possible / turn away ahead Avoid clumps of straw or waters in front / lift face to left / push up with right refuse on surface Avoid swarm of gnats leg and press down with left leg

387

Appendices table 3

Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility (cont.)

Skill

Method

Utility

Cubatus versatilis Fourfold turning

Lie on back with elbows at sides and upper arms away from body / keep legs a foot apart / lift right side while extending right hand and push feet down slightly / draw left hand and foot to body Lie on back and keep head in center If from left to right: push down left side slightly / lift legs alternately (scissoring) Position legs and feet underwater Draw water towards you with one hand / draw water away with other hand

Escape after swimming into places full of reeds, or against the riverbank, or into other dangers

Circulasio Circling

Generate centrifugal force to scatter foaming rot or straw or other clinging garbage

Raise head in unfamiliar waters to pick out exit point or determine safest exit onto enemy shores See and avoid missiles launched by pursuing enemy Fight man or beast in erect position Pronatare palmis coniunctis Join the palms together / Burrow through piles of draw both wrists into the straw in path Swimming with palms Make way out of spot chest / extend the arms pressed together in river overgrown with forward until the fingers weeds break the surface Delight the spirit Natare neque ventro neque To shift onto side: push water down with one hand See either bank of river dorso while lifting opposite side Rest one arm and leg Swimming neither on the Move upper arm for stomach nor on the back propulsion Conversio perpendicularis Upright turning

388 table 3

Appendices Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility (cont.)

Skill

Method

Utility

Ventre natare utraque manu quiescente Swim on stomach while resting both hands

Propel with breaststroke kick / cast hands behind you and rest them on your back / stretch chest forward and raise neck out of water Lift left foot toward buttocks / stretch right arm out and back to grab and hold the foot / use right leg and left arm for propulsion Pull water towards body with each hand in succession / push it alternately away with each foot Three levels of gracefulness: vary elevation of the leg from higher to lower on each successive strike that sends drops of water flying / proceed to strike water as press down chin to the chest / raise legs higher each time and circle around body. To maintain buoyancy while lifting the legs: swell out the chest and press flat palms of both hands down toward the bottom Strike water with each limb in multiples of ten: right foot ten times / right hand twenty / left foot thirty / left hand forty

Alleviate a cramp Survive if forced into water with hands shackled behind your back

Pedem sinistrum manu dextra transportare Swim and carry left foot in right hand Canis instar natare Swimming in manner of a dog Aquarum percussio Drumming the waters

Percussione quadripartita Fourfold drumming

Ease cramping Use hand to free a foot entangled in weeds

Lift body to pass safely through forest of harmful weeds Breed competence and confidence without great exertion

Rarely used and often for fun Drive off gnats gathered to bite your face

389

Appendices table 3

Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility (cont.)

Skill

Method

Utility

Manibus pedibusque supine natare Swimming on back with hands and feet

Cast hands backward behind head open palms toward ears / at full extension turn hands outward / open arms in same way / pull them in again Kick as normally would on back Cover genitals with hands / lift each leg in succession out of water / bring it back down into contact with surface and pull it forcefully back toward knee Lift each leg out of water in succession / circle it around three or four times / compensate for downward force on head by swelling out chest and pressing down with both palms and other leg Arch back downward / scull with hands, keeping them a decent interval from body Let feet sink gradually toward the bottom until body perpendicular to water / draw feet together toward the knees / swell out chest / scull back and forth with hands behind the back / arch back and raise chin toward sky

Advance against fastmoving waves

Retrogradatio Going backwards

Unius pedis collusio Playing with one foot

Ostensio pedum Showing your feet

Menti suspensio Suspension of the chin

Use to relieve fatigue or boredom Switch to have fun in shallow river

Perform agile movement that difficult and aesthetically pleasing Scatter weeds attacking or annoying feet

Check to be sure that feet are washed and clean no matter how deep they have gone Survive if crossing frozen body of water and ice breaks Hang silently even in deepest waters if forced by pursuing enemy to cross river at night and enemy sends out a boat of warriors to kill you

390 table 3

Appendices Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility (cont.)

Skill

Method

Utility

Pressio aquarum Treading water

Circle each leg around in water while keeping soles of feet pointed toward bottom

Dorsi natatio contradictoria Discordant swimming on the back

Either grab left foot with right hand underwater or grab right foot with left hand / raise and lower free leg rapidly Cross legs / entwine arms and place them over chest / raise up crossed legs and push them down while drawing them together / propel body forward Lie on stomach / extend arms and hands out in front / cup palms and point them toward the bottom / use them to catch the water and pull it in / slink forward calmly, keeping hands close together and not separating legs

See over highest waves in turbulent seas to: –  dodge missile from catapult –  launch an arrow with bow – duel with sword Enjoy assistance of free hands Free leg ensnared by weeds

Natatio connexa Entwined swimming / swimming cross-legged

Prolapsio Sliding forward

Survive if both legs entangled by weeds simultaneously Survive when cast into river from a prison or boat with hands and feet bound Slip out of thick mass of weeds as worms and eels do

391

Appendices table 3

Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility (cont.)

Skill

Method

Utility

Free self from weeds clinging to both feet or binding both hands Shout for help after being cast into deep well too narrow for swimming, too muddy for treading, and too shallow for suspending chin Pedalium digitorem praeciso Hold paring knife in right Cut a toenail or admire it Paring a toenail hand / lift left leg and draw in privacy Clean out foul-smelling it over right knee / take spaces between toes that hold of left foot with left bathing missed hand to steady it before you commence paring / extend right leg and kick to help stay afloat Intrinsically rewarding to TETRAPHANĒ Reveal knee by bending accomplish difficult skill Four times conspicuous one leg and crossing it over opposite knee / fix back of each hand to sides at chest level to bend both elbows upwards / swell chest and kick unseen leg in compact up-and-down alternation Tibiae erectio Use other leg and hands to Transport across river Raising a leg stay afloat people, drinks, or something else wedged in place by the big toe Wash off dirt Manuum erectio Lift arms / as chest Remove noxious weeds Raise up hands contracts and body from head, arms, and legs sinks, swell out chest to Convey safely across a compensate toga, money-purse, or anything else Sessio contracta Drawn together sitting

Basic: take hold of thigh with each hand Advanced: take hold of foot with each hand

392 table 3

Appendices Everard Digby’s agile movements in the water and their utility (cont.)

Skill

Method

Utility

Ocrearum impositio Donning greaves

Lift one leg up and grab it with both hands / kick with the other leg / don greave / reverse process for other greave Swelling out chest forcefully / spring up while pressing down with the hands three or four times / on last press submerge hands deeper into water/ while elevated, throw both legs out of water and caper them

Wash legs Cast off noxious weeds

Saltatio caprae Leaping of goat

Demonstrate supreme agility in water

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Index Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle) 179 Aare River 246, 355 Abraham ben Yijū 217 Absalon (bishop of Roskilde, archbishop of Lund) 199, 203, 208, 351 Abū al-Ṣalt Umayyah (scientist) 218, 364 Abū Duwād al-Iyādi (poet) 222 Abū Rayhān Bīrūnī (scientist) 221–22, 226 Abu Yahya Zakariya ibn Muhammad al-Qazwīnī (scientist) 226 Abydus 31, 52, 114–15, 167 Aceronia Polla 36–37, 336 Acesines River 121, 171, 343 Achilles 26n62, 148–50, 164, 170, 341 educated by Chiron 155n8, 288–89 Achilles Tatius of Alexandria Leucippe and Clitophon 45, 50 (Ps.) Acron Scholia in Horatium vetustiora 242 Actaeon (Actaion) 165 Adda (Addua) River 161 Aden 217, 227–29, 364, 368 Adriatic Sea 229, 233, 313 Aeacus 164, 170 Aedespus 20 Aegean Sea 2, 51, 80, 229 Aelian (Claudius Aelianus) 56, 78–79, 84, 86 Aemilius Paullus, L. 109 Aeneas 40, 45, 240, 257, 276 Aeolian islands 91 Aesacus 64, 264 Aeschines 88–90 Aeschrion of Samos 70 Aeschylus 69, 80 Suppliant Women 66 Aesop 82, 314, 364 fable of Jupiter and frogs 254 Aetius of Amida 292 Afranius, L. 130 Africa, Africans xi, 15, 18, 47–48, 80, 116, 129, 138, 227–30, 311, 312–13 Black Africans skilled at swimming and diving 291, 325–28, 330–31, 363, 370–71

agate 223 Agathocles of Samos 93 Agelmund (king of Lombards) 180 Agnar (son of King Hroar) 199 Agricola, Gn. Iulius 145 Agrigento (Akragas) 25 Agrippa, M. Vipsanius 112–13 Agrippina the Younger 5, 36–37, 336 Ailill mac Máta 191–92 Aimon of Fleury Historia Francorum 178 Áine 192 Ajax (son of Oileus) 64, 107 Ajax (son of Telamon) 64 Alamanni 18, 156 Alaric (Alaricus I, king of Visigoths) 161 Albania 311 Alberti, Leon Battista 309, 320, 334, 352, 368 Apologi centum 314, 364 attributed Nemi ships to Trajan 316 Della famiglia 239 De re aedificatoria 315 Fatum et Fortuna 299, 358 salvage attempt at lago di Nemi 315–17, 364–66 Albizzi, Luca di Maso degli 314 Alcibiades 113 Alciphron 71–72 Alcman 77 Alcyonian Lake 54 Alessandro D’Alessandro. See D’Alessandro, Alessandro Alexander the Great (of Macedon) 85, 93, 103, 108–10, 119–25, 132, 157, 181, 207, 242n17, 270–71, 336, 342–43, 360–61 caught in tidal bore 124–25 diadem lost and recovered 122 legend of descent in glass sphere 181, 265, 366 supposed swim in Cydnus River 119–21, 342 Alexandria 15, 22, 42, 57, 131, 162, 204, 218, 230, 270, 334, 337, 340–41, 351, 364 Pharos 116, 126–29, 340

index Alexinus of Elis 54–55 Alexis Comicus 66 Alfonso V (king of Aragon) 213, 311–12 son Ferrante 213 Al-Idrīsī (geographer) 221 Allia River 135–36, 343 Al-Mas’ūdī (historian and geographer) 221 Alpheus River 13, 55 Alps 138, 257 Amasenus (Amaseno) River 149–50, 341 Amazons 142, 180, 348, 362 Ambracia, Ambracians 82, 108 Ambracia, Gulf of 108, 311, 366 Amenemhet III (pharaoh of Egypt) 57 American Red Cross methods of swim training 4–5 Amisia (Ems) River 143–44 Ammianus Marcellinus 18–19, 155–60, 263, 345–46 Amphitrite 37, 69 Anaxibius 114–15 Anchises 239 anchor(s) 1–2, 50, 57, 87, 93, 102–06, 108, 218, 230–33, 264, 314, 322, 324, 366–67, 369 cable 50, 102–04, 232–33, 312, 361, 364, 368 cork float for 50, 241 sacred as last one cast 248, 255, 268 Ancona 219 Andersson, Theodore 184 Andrea “the Cormorant” (Mergus / Marangone) 312, 364 Andreasi, Piero de 325 Andrew, Saint (the apostle) 227 Andrews, N. L. xi Androbius (artist) 103 Angelides, Antonios, of Symi 2 Anglo-Saxons 176, 184–85, 190–91, 195–96, 362 Anicius Auchenius Bassus 99 Anio River 52n40 Anonymous of the Hussite Wars Hand A 298, 304–05 Ansprand (king of Lombards) 180–81 Antaeus 238 Antenor (fleet commander) 114 Anthedon, Anthedonians 69–71, 74–75, 243, 360–61

443 anthias (sacred fish) 79 Anticleides of Athens 37–38 Antigone 51 Antigonus of Carystus 94, 96 Antigonus the One-eyed 111, 114, 133 Antiochus (helmsman) 113 Antiphellos (Kaş) 80 Antoninus (merchant and protector) 157 Antoninus Pius (emperor) 97 Antonio da Malaventre 314 Antony, Mark (M. Antonius) 40, 81–82, 104, 210, 245 Antyllus (Greek physician) 292–93 Aphetae (Afetes) 102 Aphrodite 105, 162–63, 166, 347 Apollonides (epigrammatist) 102 Apollonius of Perga Conica 67, 368 Apollonius of Tyana 20–21, 85 Apollonius Rhodius 60n67 Argonautika 64 Apostolios, Michael 334, 368 Appian (Appianus) 35–36, 126–29, 337 Aquae Bilbitanorum (Alhama de Aragón) 14 Arabia, Arabs 17, 57, 159, 224, 364 pearl divers from 222 Aradus, Aradians 109–10 Aratus 65 Archelaus 35 Archestratus 82 Aretaeus of Cappadocia 292 Arethusa (nymph) 13, 30n73 argonauts 14, 60n67 Arion (lyric poet) 26–27, 46–47, 245–46, 339 Aripert (usurper king of Lombards) 180–81, 205 Aristagoras (farmer) 336 Aristides, Aelius 10, 333–34, 352 Aristobulus (historian) 120, 122, 342 Ariston of Ceos 67 Aristophanes 71, 80 Babylonians 105 Aristotle of Stagira 6, 26, 79, 83–84, 366 Constitution of Delos 69 (Ps.) On Marvellous Things Heard 93–97 (Ps.) Problems 24–25, 293, 302, 366 Arminius 143–44, 344

444 Arno River 310, 319 Arrian of Nicomedia (L. Flavius Arrianus)  103, 119–23 arrow(s) 75, 108, 119, 125, 135, 142, 148, 239, 265, 275, 283, 285, 344 art (ars, technē) xi–xii, 2–5, 8–10, 28, 71, 75, 93, 100–01, 123, 160, 181, 240, 248, 256, 269–70, 292–94, 316, 352 elements in a classical art (nature, training, practice) xii, 3, 9, 59, 74–76, 154, 162, 203–06, 210, 242, 248, 251, 255, 258, 270–71, 275, 294, 299, 309, 335, 350–52, 356, 358 Greeks as conceptualizers 2–3 liberal 15, 258, 263, 299, 355, 358 mechanical 263, 268, 355 of drinking 352 role of teacher 4–5, 17, 26, 76, 205–06, 241–43, 250–55, 266, 294–95, 353, 355–57 See also free-diving; swimming Artabazus 33 Artaxerxes III (king of Persia) 54 Artemidorus of Ephesus Geographies (Geographoumena) 95 Artemis 15, 34, 52, 149–50, 165–66 Artemisium (Artemisio) 102–03 Arwad (Er-ruwad) 109–10 Asmund Beserkers-slayer 191 Asmund Champion-killer 198–99 Asopus River 150, 162, 347 Asphalt Lake. See Babylonia, Dead Sea ass(es) 274 Aššurnasirpal II Neo-Assyrian reliefs in palace of 115 Aster (archer) 119 astrology, astrologer 5–6, 27–33, 73–74, 98, 213–14, 263–64, 276, 295, 362 Atesis (Adige) River 35 Athena 90–91, 107, 266 Athenaeus of Naucratis Deipnosophistae 65, 70n26, 71, 243 Athens, Athenians 3, 5, 7, 10, 33–34, 51, 64, 69, 103–06, 108–09, 113–15, 204, 208, 333–35, 352, 360. See also Piraeus Athos, Mount 107 Attalus I (king of Pergamum) 111 Attalus (nephew of Gregory of Langres)  177–78, 348

index Attius Varus, P. 106 Aufidius Fortis, P. 73 Augsburg 238 Augustus (emperor) 8, 21, 58, 134, 153 grandsons Gaius and Lucius 6, 10, 15, 238, 333, 336 Aura (attendant of Artemis) 166 Ausonius, Decimus Magnus 92, 161–62, 164, 169–70, 273, 362 Auxentius 99–101 Avignon 179 Avitus (West Roman emperor) 155, 345 Bāb Al-Mandeb, Strait of 217 Babylon 54, 93 Babylonia, Babylonians 54, 105, 118, 122 Asphalt Lake in 54 Bacchus. See Dionysus Bacchylides of Ceos 69 Bacedus de Padua (palombarus) 232 Bahamas 328 Baiae (Baia) 30–32, 36, 50, 98–99 Baldelli, Ignazio 232–33 ballast 223, 226, 302–03, 305, 315–17, 321, 323, 366 for diving bell 318 Baltic Sea 188–89 barbarian(s) 33–36, 131–33, 147–48, 155–56, 160, 204, 206, 260–61, 335, 340, 345–46 barbel (Barbus barbus) 81n21 Barcelona 227 Bari 212 Bartolomeo da Urbino 183 Barzizza, Guiniforte commentary on Inferno 231–32 Basel 246, 251 Basil of Caesarea 61 Bastianino (Sebastiano Filippi, detto Il) fresco of swimming in Ferrara 289–90 Batavi 9, 143–48, 201, 204, 263, 344 baths 5, 16, 19–23, 32, 37, 56, 66, 80, 249, 266, 289, 293, 333, 338, 353 battles 59, 64–65, 73, 106–07, 112, 116, 145–50, 153, 157–59, 170–71, 175–76, 188, 200–02, 205–06, 208, 262, 264, 294, 313, 334, 340–41, 349–51 Adrianople 159–60 Allia River 135–36, 343 Arausio (Orange) 141

index Bonifacio 311–12, 364 Cannae 51 Castra Vetera 146 Chios 51, 110 (359BCE), 111 (201BCE) Crocus Field 109 Ctesiphon 158–59, 346 Hydaspes River 123–24, 271, 342–43 Iaxartes River 123, 342 Idistaviso 144, 344 Lake Trasimene 139, 343–44 Maas River 145–46 Massilia 106–07 Mylae 112 Naulochus 113 Nile River 143, 341 Nisibis 155, 345 Olpae 108 Orchomenus 35 Oxus River 122–23, 342 Pharos (Alexandria) 126–29, 340 Potidaea 33, 340 Pydna 109 Rhodes 111 Salamis (Cyprus) 110 Salamis (Greece) 33–34, 204, 208, 335, 340, 351 Scarpheia 41 Scyllaeum 108 Strasbourg 18, 156, 345–46 Tauris 111–12 Tauromenium 112–13 Trebia River 138–39, 343 Vada 147 Bavaria, Bavarians 180–81 Bedriacum (Betriacum) 142 Belisarius 161 bellows for use by diver 301–02, 367 Bembo, Pietro (cardinal) pearl divers in Americas 327–28 Benedict, Saint miraculous rescue of Placidus by Maurus 182, 347 Benvenuto da Imola commentary on Inferno 232 Beowulf 184 Beowulf (king of Geats) 184, 190–91, 195–98, 212, 349, 362

445 Beroaldus, Philippus (Filippo Beroaldo the Elder) 263 Beroë (Beirut) 166, 347 Bersi 187 Bessus (satrap of Bactria) 122–23 Bible 215, 261, 267 Acts of the Apostles 42–43, 261, 339 Gospel of Luke 262, 265, 267 Letter to the Ephesians 262 Biblus, island of 85 Bilbilis 14 Biondo Flavio da Forlì 311, 315–17 attributed Nemi barge to Tiberius 316 Biorn (legendary Norwegian warrior) swimming horse 201, 204 birds 18, 191, 252, 256, 274, 333 diving 64, 71, 169, 264 halcyon 77 kērulos 64 mergus 64 sea hierax 232 storm petrel 18 Black Sea 50, 82, 108 Blake, George (enslaved diver) 325 Boccaccio, Giovanni commentary on Inferno 231–32 Bordeaux 115, 219 Bordoy, Casadesús 68, 71 Bork 190 Bosco, Umberto commentary on Inferno 233 Bosporus 60n67, 85 Boudicca 35–36, 142, 145 boxer(s) 61, 338 Boyle, Robert law on pressure and volume 331 Bracelli, Giacomo 311–12 Breca 184, 190–91, 349 Brennus (king of Tolistobogii) 133 Breslau (Wrocław) school at St. Elizabeth’s Church 261 Brian (son of Tuireann) 196, 362, 366 Briant, Pierre 117 Britain, Britons 35–36, 59, 85, 130–32, 142–45, 207–08, 262, 344 Brundusium (Brindisi) 82 Bufalini, Leonardo (engineer) 320–21 Burgundy, Burgundians 161, 179, 210

446 Burke, Peter 270 Buzurg ibn Shahriyār Book of the Marvels of India 223 Byzantium. See Constantinople Cabana 125 Caecilius Metellus, L. 17 Caelius Aurelianus 292 Caesar (C. Julius Caesar) 15, 40, 59, 104, 106n20, 116, 126–32, 143, 148, 204, 207–08, 239, 262–63, 270–71, 337, 340–41, 351 Bellum Alexandrinum 126–27, 129 Caesareans 106, 111–12, 126–32, 204, 337, 340–41, 351 swim in harbor of Alexandria 126–29, 131, 204, 337, 340–41, 351 Caesarea Marittima 99 Calamus 162, 164–65, 347 Calcagnini, Celio 309–10 Caledonia, Caledonians 35, 142 Caligula (emperor) 10, 50, 315, 336 anger when quinquereme halted  105–06 Callan River 188 Callet 25 Callimachus 94 Callisthenes of Olynthus 119 Calypso 260 Cambridge University 269–73, 355 St. John’s College 272 Camillus, M. Furius 136 Campi, Bartolomeo, da Pesaro 324 Campi, Giuseppe commentary on Inferno 232 Camús, Alfredo Adolfo 90n58 Canae 118 Canossa, Lodovico (count) 240 Capri 229 Caracalla (emperor) 15 Cardano, Girolamo 213, 321–22 Carduchi 118–19 Caria, Carians 82 Carian fable 82 Caribs. See Native Americans Carinus (emperor) 23 carpenter(s) 312–14, 325, 365 Carpus 162–65, 347 Carteia (San Roque) 84, 106, 130

index Carthage, Carthaginians 94, 107–08, 110–11, 137–40, 152, 262, 270–71, 336, 340, 343–44 spring with oil on surface 3 underwater raiders 140, 344 women swimming 36, 336 Cassandra 64–66 Cassiodorus, Flavius Magnus Aurelius  204–05 Cassiopeia 65, 170 Cassius Dio 13, 22, 106, 126–29, 131–32, 142, 144, 147–48, 310 Castiglione, Baldassare Il Cortegiano 240, 270, 352 Castro, João de 327 Catalonia, Catalans 229–30, 312, 314, 364 Catana (Catania) 108, 213 Cato the Elder (M. Porcius Cato) 14–15, 199, 239, 334, 336 cattle 46, 272, 274 caulking, caulkers 91, 313 pitch and tallow for diving bell 318 Cave-dwellers (Trogodytae) 18 Cebriones 65 Cecina River 258, 295 Cellach (king of Connaught) 197 Celsus, Cornelius (medical encylopedist)  58, 292–93 Celtiberia, Celtiberians 14, 343–44 Celts 35–36, 59, 91, 116, 131, 137–38, 142, 176, 184, 187–88, 191–92, 194, 196–97, 350, 362, 366 what Greeks supposedly called Germans and Gauls 144, 263 Centrites (Zirmas / Zarm) River 118–19 Centumcellae. See Civitavecchia Cerasus 50 Cervo 230 Ceuta 229 Chabrias 51, 110 Chalcedon 94–97 Chares 109 Charibert I (Frankish king) 178 Charlemagne (emperor) 179–80 Charles V (emperor) 259–60, 270, 328 Charles VIII (king of France) 295 Charles the Bold (duke of Burgundy) 210, 243 Charon 60, 260–61

index Charybdis 213–14, 259–60, 338, 362 Cherusci 143 China 88, 227 legendary Cathay 225 Chios 51, 110–11, 114 Chiron (centaur) 288–89 Chitwood, Ava 68 Chnodomar (king of Alamanni) 18 Christopher (legendary saint) 188, 245, 261, 349 Cicero (M. Tullius Cicero) 40, 47, 59–61, 66n13, 268, 277 De officiis 269–70, 273 mocked Clodia 16 Cicogna, Bernardo 312–13 Cilicia, Cilicians 24, 337 Cimbri 35, 141, 263 Cipolla, Carlo 226 Circe 169–70 Ciriaco d’Ancona 311, 366 Civilis, C. Iulius 145–47 Civitavecchia 32 sunken galley at 319–21, 365 Claudian (poet) 87–88, 92, 160–61 Claudius (emperor) 13, 37, 144 Claudius Etruscus baths 23 Claudius Severus, Ti. 72–73 Clazomenae 42 Clearchus (Spartan mercenary) 117–18 Cleitor, spring of 247 Cleopatra 81–82, 247, 341 Clinias 45 Clitophon 45, 50 Cloelia 38–40, 141, 204, 244, 270, 336, 351–52 Cnidus (Knidos) shrine of Aphrodite 105 Coelius Antipater, L. 138 Coeranus of Miletus 47, 339 Cola Pesce (Cola Piscis) 212–14, 264, 331–32, 362, 368 Collegium (Trade Association) 72–73 Colleoni, Bartolomeo xi Colmán of Drumore, Saint 197n66 Colm Cille (Columba), Saint 197, 362 Cologne 145, 210 Colonia Ulpia Traiana (Xanten) 146 Colonna, Prospero (cardinal) 315–16, 364–65

447 Columbus, Christopher 328 Columella gourd as flotation device 17–18 comedy 66, 68, 105, 251, 359 Cominius, Pontius 135–37, 141, 343 Commodus (emperor) 23 concrete 99, 361 Constable, Olivia Remie 215–16 Constance 251 Constantinople (Byzantium) 15–16, 89, 103–04, 216–17, 295, 333–34, 361, 368 school in Magnaura Palace 67 Constantius II (emperor) 155–57 constellation(s) 73–74 Andromeda 65, 170 Cassiopeia 65, 170 Piscis Austrinus 73–74 Copenhagen Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek 48 copper 93–97, 300–01, 316, 323 azurite 94–96 malachite 94–96 Coprates (Dez) River 133 coral 81, 88, 90–92, 221, 226–30, 306, 311, 327, 329, 360, 363, 366 Saint Andrew’s Cross for dredging  226–27, 329, 363, 366 See also free-diving Corbulo 107 Corcyra (Corfu) 82, 311 Corinth 46 Corinth, Gulf of 113 Corinthian War 114 Cornwall 96–97 Corobius 93 Corpus (Trade Assocation). See Collegium Corsica, Corsicans 56, 229–30, 311–12 Straits of Bonifacio 56 Corsi, Pier Paolo 325 cow(s) 46, 191 crab(s) 26, 125 Crates 67 Crete 1, 18, 42, 69 labyrinth and Minotaur 69 Crispus 60 Critolaus 41 Croce, Benedetto 331–32 Crocodeilonopolis (Arsinoë, Kom Fāris) 57 crocodile(s) 56–58, 338

448 Croton The Diver 67 Ctesiphon 157–59, 346 Cúchulainn 187–88, 192, 194, 212, 349 Cumae 30–32 Cunipert (king of Lombards) 180 Cupids 87 Curtis, Thomas 96 Curtius, Mettus 133–34 Curtius Rufus, Q. 85, 119–22 Curzola 219 Cydnus River 119–21, 342 Cyprus, Cypriots 55–56, 67, 110, 338 Cyrene 93 island Platea (Bunbah) 93 Cyriades 99–101 Cyrus the Younger (Persian satrap) 118 Cyzicus swimming Roman messenger to 115–16, 340 Dalby, Andrew 65n8 D’Alessandro, Alessandro 212–13, 264, 266, 294 Geniales dies 212, 264, 294 Dalmatia 111 Damon 49, 339 Dante Alighieri Inferno 230–33, 367–68 Danube (Ister) River 104, 122, 141, 147–48, 159–60, 237–38, 246–47, 254, 257–61, 342, 344 rapids called Big Strudel 246, 353 Dardanus (son of Zeus) 18 Datus 37 Dead Sea 25–26, 338 Deianira 51 Deinias of Ephesus 93 Deinocrates 111 Delos, Delians 74–75, 94, 96, 169, 360–61 Delian diver 67–71, 75, 243–45, 256, 258, 266, 352, 368 Delian League 69 Delphi 21, 103, 109, 133 Amphictyonic Council 102–03, 361 oracle 67–68, 96, 242 Pythian Games 61 Sibyl 242

index Siphnian treasury 96 statues to Skylliēs and Hydnē 102–03 De Marchi, Francesco (engineer) 310, 317–21, 331, 363, 365, 367 dress for diving in bell 319–20 methods of measuring hull remains  320–21 Demetrius I Besieger of Cities (king of Macedon) 110–11 Demochares 108, 112–13 Demonesus 93–97 synonymous with Chalcitis 94–96 synonymous with Pityusa 94, 96 Denmark, Danes 189, 199–203, 263, 350 Deriades (king of India) 171 Diana. See Artemis Díaz Machín, Pero 314 Dicaearchia. See Puteoli Didius, C. 130 Dieuchidas of Megara Megarika 38 Digby, Everard xii, 269–70, 272–89, 291, 331, 355–58, 369 back float and stroke 278–79, 281–82, 357 dolphin-like swimming 287–88 fun things to do while swimming  280–85, 357–58 head-first diving and free-diving 285–87 humans as natural swimmers 274–75 in-water rescues 286 priority of breaststroke 278, 357 rationale for swimming as an art  272–73, 355–56 times and places for swimming 276–77, 356 treading water 282–83, 357 turning around while swimming  279–80, 357 use of woodcuts 278, 287–88, 357 values in learning to swim 273–75 See also Middleton, Christofer; Percey, William Dio Chrysostom 20, 44, 97 Diodorus Siculus (of Agyrium) 25–26, 48, 54, 62, 109–10, 121–22, 132–33, 135–37 Diogenes Laertius 13, 55n50, 67–68, 75, 239–40, 368

index Diogenes of Sinope (Cynic) 83, 240n8, 363 Diogenianus 334 Dionysius I (tyrant of Syracuse) 109, 111, 152 Dionysius of Halicarnassus 133–35 Dionysodorus 111 Dionysus (Bacchus) xi, 37, 60, 65, 162–66, 168–71, 338, 346–47, 359, 362–63, 368 Bacchants 170–71 cousin Pentheus 168 Diophanes (seer) 46n18 Dioscorides (epigrammatist) 336 D’Ippolito, Gennaro 166–67 Diu 327 diuresis 72 diving xi, 30, 37, 64, 66–67, 69, 71, 77, 105, 232, 251, 265, 331, 366–67 apparatus of Tartaglia 322–24, 331, 367 design for hood and breathing tube  300–08, 367 helmet diving 232n40, 331 physics of 331 rumor of glass helmet for 265, 366, 369 scuba diving 99, 331 See also free-diving diving bell 265, 369 for archaeology at lago di Nemi 317–21, 331, 365 dog(s) 9, 57, 214, 224, 252, 281, 287, 369 dogfish 56, 79, 208–09, 211, 326 Dolls, island of 185 dolphin(s) xi, 9–10, 26–27, 37, 46–49, 53, 56, 60, 69, 91, 104, 150, 169, 185, 241, 244–46, 287–88, 336–37, 339, 352, 369 Domitian (emperor) 23, 37, 60, 141, 239, 336 Domitius Afer, Gn. 13 Domitius Ahenobarbus, Gn. 5, 333 Donauwörth 261, 267 Don River 34 Dorn (servant) 176 dragon 51n36, 191–92, 196, 272, 350 Dragon of Wantley 272 Drangey Island 186, 193–94, 349 drowning 2, 16, 19, 24, 33–34, 37, 41–42, 45, 47, 49–51, 67–68, 106, 109, 115, 133–34, 137, 139, 144, 150, 155–57, 159–60, 165, 178–79, 181, 188–89, 192, 194, 201–02, 204–05, 208, 237, 242–43, 246–48,

449 255–59, 261–64, 266, 273–75, 285, 295, 305, 315, 335–36, 338, 340, 342–43, 345–46, 348–50, 353–56, 358, 363, 368–69 Dublind River 191 Dubrovnik (Ragusa) 229 duck(s) 71, 253, 255 Durius (Duero) River 104 Dyrrhachium (Durrës) 131 Ebro (Iberus) River 137 Ed-Dur 87 eel(s) 190, 194, 231, 233, 276, 283, 349 conger eel 84 Egil One-Hand 191, 349 Egil Skallagrimsson 185–86, 189–90, 192 Egypt, Egyptians 18, 25, 48, 54, 56–57, 75, 83, 87, 111, 114, 127–28, 132, 143, 169, 217, 336–38, 340. See also Alexandria, Crocodeilonopolis, Fayum, Moeris (Lake), Sirbonis (Lake), Nile River Einhard (Eginhard) 179 Elagabalus (emperor) 23 elephant(s) 9, 17, 48, 57–58, 109, 132–33, 138, 366 El Sec (Calvía) 91 Elyot, Thomas The Governour 270–71, 355 Emania (palace residence) 188 Enalus 37–38 Encolpius 43 engineering, engineers 8, 19, 99–100, 122, 130, 208, 218, 295–310, 313–15, 317–21, 327, 337, 346, 358–59, 361, 364 and diving 300–08, 366–67 and swimming 295–300, 358–59 military 295, 310, 317–21, 365 Renaissance 295–309, 365–67 England, English 217–20, 270–72, 276, 288, 313, 324–25, 327, 331, 355–56, 370 county of Sussex 218–19, 273, 355 English Channel 59 Enipeus (Tsanarlis) River 16 Ennius, Q. 82 Ephrem of Syria 222 Epicles 64 Epirus Chaonian coast 311

450 Erasmus, Desiderius 10, 68, 238, 240–44, 260, 266–67, 334, 342, 352, 354–55, 368 Adages (Adagiorum chiliades) 68, 240–43, 266, 334, 352, 368 The Shipwreck (Naufragium) 260, 267, 355 Erik the Eloquent 200–01, 204–05, 351 brother Roller 201, 204 fiancée Gunvara 201 Erotes (fictional swim student) 237–38, 244–61, 263, 265–68, 353 Erythrae 114 Erythraean Sea 170 Ethiopia, Ethiopians 24, 87, 326, 337, 370–71 Etna, Mount 51n36, 214, 362 Euboea 97 Euboea, Gulf of 70 Eumenes II (king of Pergamum) 114 Eumenes of Cardia 133 Eunapius 6, 333 Euphrates River 19, 54, 118, 125, 141–42, 157–58, 342, 345–46 Eupolis (poet) 258 Euripides 67–68, 169, 359 Phoenician Women 64–65 Euripus. See Rome Eurotas River 14, 295 Eurylochus 13 Eurymedon the Cabirus 171 Euthydicus 49–50, 339 Evanthes (historian) 24 Evenus (Phidaris) River 51 Execestus (admiral) 111 Eystein (king of Norway) 195 Eyvind Braggart 189–90 Fannel mac Nechtan 194 Farnese, Alessandro (cardinal) 293 Faroe Islands 189, 195 Fate of the Children of Tuireann Brian diving for cooking spit 196, 362, 366 Fayum 57 Fergus mac Léti (king of Ulster) 175–76, 196, 362 Echtra Fergusa maic Léite 175 Fergus mac Roích 191 Ferrara 310 Salone dei Giochi 289–90

index Fianchaire, island of 196, 362, 366 Fidenae 134 Filoteo degli Omodei, Antonio 213 Findan, Saint 187, 348 Finnabair 191–92, 350 Fionn mac Cumhaill 192, 194–97, 349, 362 the Fianna 192 Firmicus Maternus, Iulius 74, 263, 362 Firmus (merchant) 57–58 fish 1–2, 23, 55, 65–66, 69–71, 77, 79, 81–84, 86, 105, 150, 169, 196, 212, 215, 224–25, 253–54, 265, 274–75, 289, 310–11, 316, 319, 326, 331, 353, 356, 360, 362–63, 369 Fisheaters (Ichthyophagoi) 26n60, 125, 343 Fishhook, Sigmund 185–86 fishing, fishermen 1, 18, 36, 69–75, 81–82, 84, 87–89, 140, 155–56, 169–70, 186, 193, 212–13, 230, 237–38, 241, 243, 265, 272, 289, 310–11, 360–63 fishing rod 250, 277, 356 in the Arno 310, 319, 363 fishponds 19, 21, 180 Flaminius, C. 139 Flanders 314 Florence 300–01, 308, 310, 314, 363 Florus 35, 40, 115–16, 126–28 Fontainebleau Galerie of King Francis I 288–89 Fonzio, Bartolomeo 300, 358 Forma urbis 293 Fráech 191–92, 350 France, French xi, 95, 181, 227, 359 French Riviera 229 Hyères Islands 91 Francesco da Barberino 232 Francesco di Giorgio di Martino 295, 297–98, 301, 305, 359 Opusculum de architectura 297 Trattato di Architettura (Trattato II) 297 Franciscus Irenicus Germaniae Exegesis 204, 262, 266, 354 Francis, Jacques (enslaved diver) 325–26 Franks 155, 177–80, 345, 348 Frederick II (emperor) 181–82, 212–14, 368 free-diving, free-divers 63–106, 168–71, 175–76, 184, 192–93, 195–99, 202, 209–33, 242–43, 250–51, 263–65, 275, 285–88, 300–32, 356, 359–71 and the spleen 63, 264, 354, 369

index art of 71, 75, 210, 238, 242–43, 263–65 285–87, 309, 325, 368–70 as a metaphor 64–71, 196, 359 blurred vision 66, 76, 300–01, 359–60 building activities 98–101, 361, 363 civic contributions 220, 368 continuity and change from ancient practice 310–17, 327–31, 362–71 coral divers 81, 90–92, 221, 226–30, 306, 311, 327, 329, 360, 363, 366 dangers encountered 2, 63, 74, 78–79, 93, 211, 220, 265, 319 diving fishermen 69–70, 80–82, 92, 169–70, 310, 319, 362–63 equipment designed for 300–09, 317–24, 331, 365–67 for octopus 81–84, 360, 363 Genoese 229–30, 309, 311–12, 314–16, 363–65, 368 Greek and Latin terminology for 71–72, 74–75, 79–80, 93, 309–10, 360 Guinean slaves 325–27, 331 in antiquity 63–106, 359–62 fated profession 73–74, 98, 362 proverb on Delian diver 67–71, 74–75, 243–45, 256, 258, 266, 352, 368 proverb on Skionian diver 74–75, 368 trade association in Ostia and Rome  72–73, 101, 215, 361–62 in Middle Ages 175–76, 184, 192–93, 195–99, 202, 209–33, 362–64 among northern peoples 209–11, 368 by legendary heroes and saints  195–99, 362 salvage law 215–20, 364 simile in Dante 230–33, 367–68 Indian 86–87, 224–26, 306, 363 in Renaissance 242–43, 250–51, 263–65, 275, 285–88, 300–32, 356, 363–71 adages on 68, 242–43 engineers and technological aids  300–09, 331, 365–67 first archaeological diving 315–21, 364–65 for marine creatures 310–11, 366 Native American 294, 327–31, 361, 366, 370

451 repair specialists on European ships  313–14 skill of Africans as 291, 325–28, 330–31, 363, 370–71 military 77, 102–06, 295, 307, 309, 311–13, 361–62, 369 murex divers 68–71, 88, 92–93, 310, 360 pearl divers 74, 76, 81, 85–90, 92–93, 168, 211, 221–26, 294, 306, 325, 327–31, 360, 363, 366, 370 physiology 63, 72, 264, 331 salvage divers 72, 74, 76, 97–98, 102, 184, 197–99, 215–20, 300, 303–04, 312, 314–16, 319–25, 331, 356, 361–66, 368–70 sponge divers 2, 63, 66, 68, 70–71, 74–75, 78–81, 217, 221, 302, 310, 360, 362 tailor from Tübingen 265, 363 training 74–76, 271, 285–88, 309–10, 315–16, 361–62, 367–71 underwater lantern 305, 317–18, 367 underwater mining 93–97 Venetian Arsenal workers 220, 324, 368 women 38, 70, 77, 102–03, 361 See also diving; Francis, Jacques Fregoso, Tommaso (doge of Genoa) 312 Frisia 184, 189, 191, 349 Friuli 176–77 frog(s) 9–10, 253–54, 276, 353, 356 Frontinus, S. Iulius 54, 116, 136 Fronto, M. Cornelius 52–53, 60 Frost, Frank 71 Frothi I (legendary king of Denmark) 200 Frothi III (legendary king of Denmark) 201, 204–05, 351 Fulgentius (mythographer) 214n4 Gabbara of Arabia 245 Gades (Cádiz) 130, 132 island of Erythaea 132 Galatia, Galatians 114, 116, 133 Galenaeus (fisherman) 71–72 Galen of Pergamum 58–59, 84–85, 271, 292–93, 355 galley(s) 28, 46, 51, 102–03, 106–08, 110–11, 113–14, 125, 129, 157, 160, 171, 253, 312–13, 319–20, 339–40, 365, 369 Gallicus, Julius 13 Ganges River 171

452 Garzoni, Tomaso 294 Gaul, Gauls 18, 32, 130, 135–38, 155, 159, 263, 343 Gallia Narbonensis 13 Merovingian 176–79 Gaza 114 Gelli, Giovan Battista commentary on Inferno 232 Gellius, Aulus 47 Geneva, Lake 246 Geniza of Cairo 217–18, 227–28 Genoa, Genoese 309–12, 314–16, 331, 363–64 African swim instructor 326–27, 370–71 Fortezza della Lanterna 314–15 reputed best free-divers 309–10, 364, 368 specialized in coral diving and manufacturing 227–30 Germania, Germans 9, 14, 18, 35–36, 141–48, 155–56, 159–60, 176–81, 203–06, 219, 262–63, 267, 298, 336, 344–46, 348, 354–55 swimming cavalry in Egypt 143, 340–41 See also Batavi, Cherusci, Cimbri Germanicus (Nero Claudius Drusus)  143–44, 344 Geronicus (fictional swim tutor) 270, 273–87, 289 Geryon 230–31, 233, 367 Gesander 14 Gevar (king of Norway) 199–200 giant(s) 150, 168, 198, 245, 353 Giles of Rome De regimine principum 183 Gilles, Pierre (Petrus Gyllius) 95–97 Giovio, Paolo 326–27, 370–71 Gisli Sursson 190 Giton 43 gladiator(s) 59, 142, 154, 256 Glaucus (Glaukos) 69–70, 75, 169–70, 213, 243, 266, 360 Goa 327 Gondophares (Indo-Parthian king) 20–21 Grattius 91n64 Graviscae (Porto Clementino) 311 Greece, Greeks xi, 1–3, 5–10, 13–14, 16, 19–21, 28, 33–35, 38, 45, 50, 60–67, 71–72, 74–75, 77–80, 82, 84–85, 89, 91, 95, 97,

index 99–100, 102, 109, 116–25, 132–34, 144, 149, 152–53, 215, 232, 240–44, 255, 258, 262–63, 266, 289, 311, 333–36, 340, 342–43, 351, 359–62, 370 Greek Anthology (Anthologia Palatina) 14, 50, 336 Gregory of Cyprus 334 Gregory of Langres (bishop) 177 Gregory of Tours (bishop) 176–80, 348 confidants Galienus and archdeacon Plato  178 Grendel 196 mother 184, 195–98, 362 Grettir 185–88, 192–94, 349, 367 battle with she-troll 197–98 brother Illugi 193 carried Steinvor and daughter across river  188 servant Glaum 193 Greuthungi 160 Gruter, Konrad, von Werden 296, 302–03, 308, 358–59 Guglielmo II (king of Sicily) 212 Guido da Pisa commentary on Inferno 231–32 Guido da Vigevano 298, 359 Guillaume de Lorraine (engineer) 317–21, 324, 331, 365 Guinea, Guinean 331 Arguin Island 325 Gunnar Hamundarson 188 Gunni (Jarmerik’s foster-brother) 201–02 Guntram Boso (Austrasian duke) 179, 348 Guylforde, Sir Richard 313, 368 Gyarus (Gyara) 93 Gyas 44–45 Habrocomes 46 Hadding (legendary king of Denmark) 200 Hadrian (emperor) 97, 147–18, 344 Hall, Bert 304 Hallvard 189 Hamburg 219 Hamilcar Barkas 137 Hannibal 137–40, 143 battle shield in Silius Italicus 137 swimming Spanish auxiliaries of 138, 343–44

index Hanno 138 Harald Gilli (king of Norway) 202, 351 Haranpur 123–24 harbor(s) 31–32, 37, 44, 48–51, 71–72, 85, 91, 98–99, 103, 109–11, 114–15, 126, 165, 188, 195, 210, 218, 243, 260, 270–71, 309–10, 312, 314, 320, 322, 326, 339–40, 351, 363–64, 368 obstructions 106, 140, 361 Harris, H. A. 163–64 Harris, William 7 Hassall, Mark W. C. 144–45 Havard (farmhand) 185, 348 Havard Gunnason 185 Havard the Lame 186–87, 348 hawk(s) 183, 187–88, 254, 271 Hawkins, John 96–97 Hebrus (Marica) River 16, 246, 355 Hedyle (Hedyla) of Attica 70 Hegesimachus (Macedonian noble) 124 Hekaerge 165 Heliodorus of Emesa Aethiopica 87 Helios 166 Helle 257 Hellespont 29–30, 32, 52, 114–15, 167, 257, 337–38 Hephaestus 80, 87, 149 Hephthalites 88 Hera 149 Heracles 51, 94, 238 Heraclitus 67–68, 258, 352, 368 On Nature 67 Heraklides Criticus 70 Herbord (knight) 203, 208, 351 Herculaneum pools of palaestra 21 Hermione festival of Dionysus Melanaigis 60, 338, 368 Hermolaus epitome of (Ps.) Aristotle’s Marvelous Things 95 Hermon (slave) 71 Hero (lover of Leander) 29–30, 52–54, 62, 167–68, 257–58, 338 Herodas mime “The Dream” 65

453 Herodianus 142, 204, 262–63 Herodotus of Halicarnassus 33, 46–47, 71, 75, 93, 102, 204, 339 Herod the Great 24 Hesychius of Alexandria 94, 96 Himilco 107 Hindi(s) 124, 342–43 Hingol (Tomerus) River 125 Hippocrates of Cos 271, 292, 355 Hippo Diarrhytus (Bizerte) 27, 47, 61 Hippomedon 148, 150, 341 Hispania Tarraconensis (Aragón) 14 Hoby, Thomas 270 hodgepodge books mathematical puzzle in 215–16 Homer 50, 64–66, 70, 80, 164, 169, 259, 359 Iliad 64–65, 148–49, 341 Odyssey 43–44, 64 Homeric Hymn 7 to Dionysus xi Honorius (West Roman emperor) 87–88, 92, 160–61 Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) 16–17, 59, 242, 273, 282, 286, 293–94, 300, 338 Enipeus fastest swimmer in Tiber 16 Neobule pining for beloved Hebrus 16 workouts of Sybaris 152–53 Horatius Cocles 38, 40, 119, 134–35, 141, 148, 161, 244, 262, 270, 336, 341–42, 352 Hormisdas (Hormizd) 157–58 horse(s) 19, 37–39, 58, 61, 114, 123–25, 134, 138–39, 141, 143–50, 152, 159, 177–78, 187, 201–08, 239–40, 244, 246, 261, 267, 273–74, 298–99, 341–42, 344, 346, 348, 351–52, 358–59 Hostilius, Tullus (king of Rome) 134 Høther (legendary king of Denmark and Sweden) 200 Houdini, Harry 260n67 Hrabanus Maurus (abbot) epitome of Vegetius 183 Hroar (king of Roskilde) 199 Hrok (jarl) 199 Hüber, Wolfgang 28 humanism, humanist xi–xii, 10, 89, 213, 238–44, 254–55, 263, 270–72, 292, 300, 311–12, 315–17, 330, 334, 350–55, 358 Huns 155, 160

454 hunting 38, 48, 56–57, 62, 76, 88, 165–67, 179, 197, 212–13, 232, 239–40, 287, 289, 310–11, 347–48, 369 Huxley, George 77 Hvar, island of 313 Hydaspes (Jhelum) River 88, 121, 123–24, 164, 170–71, 271, 342–43 Adamna Island 124 Hydnē (daughter of Skylliēs) 38, 70, 77, 102–03, 361 hydromime 166–67, 347 Hygelāc (king of Geats) 191 Hylas 257 hypothermia 43, 115, 121 Iapsis 157 Iaxartes (Tanais / Syr Darya) River 123, 342 Icarus 257 Iceland 184–86, 188, 190, 192–95, 197–98, 348–49 Hjardarness 190 Reykir 193–94 Ilerda (Lérida) 129–30 India, Indians 20, 24, 67, 85–88, 90–92, 121, 123–25, 162, 164, 168, 170–71, 217, 223–27, 229, 271, 306, 327, 337, 342, 360, 363–64 Indian Ocean 62, 218 Indus River 85, 121–24, 171 Ingolstadt 247, 258–59 Ino-Leukothea 37, 43–44, 170–71, 259, 336, 339 mad husband Athamas 170 sons Learchus and Melicertes 170 inscription(s) 7, 72–73, 75, 91, 148, 316, 344, 362 Ion 50 Ionian Sea 43, 311 Iphicrates 114–15 Iphigenia 34 Ireland, Irish 187, 196, 202 Irpinus 139 Irus (beggar) 266 Isauria, Isauri 155–56, 345 Ischia 294 Isidorus of Charax 86–87 Isis 57 Ismar (legendary king of Wends) 201–02

index Ismenus (river god) 150, 341 brother Asopus 150 grandson Crenaeus 150 Ister River. See Danube River Ito, John (enslaved diver) 325 Iulianus, Iulius (praetorian prefect) 23 Iulius Pollux of Naucratis Onomasticon 71, 75, 93, 360 Iunius Brutus Albinus, D. 210 Iunius Brutus, M. 104 Jacopo della Lana commentary on Inferno 232 Jarmerik (legendary king of Denmark)  201–02 Jerusalem 219 Temple 265 Jesus Christ 227–28, 247–48, 261, 266 jettison 42, 48, 72, 98, 215–17, 361, 364 Jocasta 64 Jonah (prophet) 55, 215 Jordan Catala de Sévérac (Friar Jordanus)  225–26, 363 Jordan River 185 Josephus, Flavius 43, 339 Juba (king of Numidia) 129 Juine River 182 Julian (emperor) 18–19, 83, 87, 104–05, 155–59, 346, 363, 369 Jupiter. See Zeus Justin (M. Iunianus Iustinus) 119–21 Jutland Peninsula 189 Juvenal (D. Iunius Iuvenalis) 40, 60, 242, 244–45 Kaphareus (Kavo Doro), Cape 97 Kasios (Casium) 114 Kennedy, George 2–3 Khalaf ben Isaac 217 Kircher, Athanasius 213 Kjartan Olafsson 188, 194–95, 349–50 knife, knives 92, 104, 224, 254, 284, 312–13 Kormak (bard) 190, 349 brother Thorgils 190 Krantz, Adolf 210 Kröll, Nicole 163–64 Kveldulf 189 son Skallagrim 189

index Kyeser, Konrad (aus Eichstätt) 295–96, 298–303, 307–08, 358 Bellifortis 307 Kyraioi 171 Labeo, Claudius 145–46 Ladislas (king of Hungary) 239–40 Lamissio (king of Lombards) 180, 348 Lars Porsenna (king of Clusium) 38–40, 134 Las Casas, Bartolomé de 329, 370 Latium, Latins 14, 270 Lauro 130 law, law codes 98, 215–20, 222, 265, 330, 334, 361, 364 Ancona 219 Curzola 219 England 219–20 Hamburg 219 Islamic 216 Kingdom of Jerusalem 219 Lübeck 219 Pisa 219 Rhodian Sea Law 215–17, 222, 364 Roman 98, 215, 361, 364 Basilica 215 Corpus iuris civilis 215 Trani 219 Venice 220 Wisby 219 Zara (Zadar) 219 See also jettison, salvage Lax (Salmon) River 186 Leander (legendary lover of Hero) 29–32, 52–54, 62, 167–68, 257–58, 289, 337–38 Leo (retainer) 177–78, 348 Leonardo da Vinci 295, 306–07 Leonidas of Tarentum (epigrammatist) 1–2 Leonides of Alexandria, Julius (epigrammatist) 116 Leon the Philosopher 67–68, 75, 368 Leontius, Pontius country residence (burgus) 115–16 Lepcis (Leptis Magna) 15 leprechauns 175–76 Leptines 108–09, 111 Lesbos 15–16, 20, 37, 58–59, 113

455 Lesser Antilles 328 Leucadian leap 64 Leucaspis 257 Leucippus (son of Oenomaus) 38 Leudast (count of Trier) 178–79 Leuk, baths 249, 353–54 Leukothea. See Ino-Leukothea Levant 116, 227, 229 Libanius 104–05, 156, 171, 369 Libyan Sea 311 Licinius Mucianus, C. 5–6, 333 lifesaving techniques 258–59, 286 Liffey River 194 lifting machinery 210, 218, 303–04, 315–16, 321–22, 324, 364–66 Ligorio, Pirro 289–92 Liguria 92, 161, 230 Ligurian Riviera 229 Ligurinus (poet) 22 Limbourg brothers Très riches heures 182–83 Limigantes 156–57, 346 Limmat River 244, 259 Liparis River 24 Liris River 114 literacy 10, 33, 255, 333, 335, 352 ancient 6–8 Loch Cime 197 Loch Ness 197 Loch Rudraige (Dundrum Bay) 175–76, 196 Lóegaire mac Néill (king of Tara) 188 Lollia Paulina 86n44 Lombard(s) 176–77, 180–81, 205, 214, 348 London 306 High Court of the Admiralty 325, 370 Merchant Taylors’ School 271 Longus Daphnis and Chloe 20, 46 Loutfut, Adam Scottish translation of Vegetius 183 Loxo (attendant of Artemis) 166 Lübeck 219 Lucan (M. Annaeus Lucanus) 35, 106–07, 129–31, 340–41 diver in 263–64, 369 Lucania, Lucani 109 Lucayos 328

456 Lucian (Lucianus of Samosata) 55–57, 60, 105, 119–21, 175, 335, 338–39, 360 Cypriots inside whale 55–56, 338 Hermotimus 66–67 Lexiphanes 27 Navigium seu Vota 15 Toxaris seu Amicitia 34–35, 49–50, 93 Lucilius (epigrammatist) 18 Lucilius (satirist) 61 Lucillianus, Count (comes) 155 Lucillianus (fleet commander for Julian) 158 Lucullus, L. Licinius 115–16 Lugaid (warrior-poet) 191 Lugne moccu Min 197 Luigi da Lampugnano 329–30 Lusitania, Lusitani 130, 132, 340. See also Portugal luxury yachts 317, 365 Lycophron Alexandra 18, 64–66 Lycurgus (son of Ares) 170, 362–63 Lydia 91, 164 Lygdamus 30 Lyncestis River 247 Lyon 227, 246 Lysander 113 Lytle, Ephraim 68 Maas River 145 Macedonia, Macedonians 57, 103, 108–09, 111, 114, 119–25, 132–33, 140–41, 340, 342–43 reputation as poor swimmers 133, 141, 343 Machiavelli, Niccolò 183 Machon 82–83 Maecenas, C. 22, 238 Maecius Celer, M. 105 Maffei, Raffaele  295 Commentarii Urbani 264n81 Maghreb 227 Magna Graecia 1, 3, 110–11 Magnesia (Lydia) 91 Magnesian Peninsula 102 Magnus Erlendsson (jarl of Orkney) 187 Mago (Carthaginian commander) 108

index Mago (Hannibal’s brother) 138–39 Makarios Chrysokephalos 334, 368 Rhodonia 75 Malea, Cape 249n39, 266 Malta 261 Manilius (astrological poet) 27–29, 32–33, 63, 73–74, 98, 263–64, 337 Manilius Vopiscus 52n40 Maniscalco, Fabio 163–64 Mannar, Gulf of 90, 224–25, 360, 363 Mantegna, Andrea Madonna della Vittoria 227 manuscript(s) 32, 89–90, 315, 337 Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana Pal. lat. 1071 181–82 Chantilly Musée Condé 65 182–83, 347–48 engineering 295, 297–98, 301–08 Florence Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale Palat. E.B.16.5 308 London British Library Arundel 263, 306 Munich Staatsbibliothek Clm 197 298, 304–05 Munich Staatsbibliothek Clm 30150 303 New York Pierpont Morgan M.917/945 182, 347 Paris Bibliothèque Nationale Smith-Lesouëf 13 183, 348 Marathus (Amrīt) 109–10 marble(s) 2, 22–23, 48, 293, 339 Marcius Rufus 129 Mardonius 107 Maria (wife of Honorius) 88, 92 Mariana, Juan de epitome of Photius 89–90 Marini, Simone de 324–25 Marius, C. 114 Marsacares (Marsa al-Kharaz / La Calle)  229–30 Marseilles (Massilia) xi, 91, 106–07, 229, 311 purported Phocaean diver 263–64, 369 Martial (M. Valerius Martialis) 14–15, 22–23, 293 Cestus and Diana 15 Marullo Tarcaniota, Michele (poet) 258, 295 Marzano, Annalisa 68–69, 91–92

index Mastropiero, Orio (doge of Venice) 220 Maxilua 25 Maximinus Thrax (emperor) 142, 206 Maximus of Ephesus 6, 333 McClelland, John 179–80 Medb (queen of Connacht) 191 medicine 3, 58, 91, 94, 218, 224, 269, 292, 295, 300, 360, 362 Hippocratic-Galenic theory 2–3, 271, 292–93, 355 Mediterranean Sea 7, 22, 25, 44, 55–56, 65n8, 73, 79–80, 83, 85, 87, 90–92, 95, 165, 167, 208–09, 212, 219, 226, 229, 262, 310–11, 333, 341, 360, 366 Medusa 90–91 Mejía, Pedro 213 Melas (Manavgat Çayï) River 155–56 Memphis 57, 132–33 Fort of the Camels 132 Menander (poet) drowned in river 245–46, 258 Menes (king of Egypt) 57 Menippus of Pergamum Periplus Bithyniae 95 Menoetes 44–45 Mercuriale, Girolamo 271–72, 291n47, 292–94, 300, 334, 355, 370 De arte gymnastica 292 Messenia (Messina) 50–51, 152, 212–14, 338, 340 Faro di Messina 213 Straits 17, 50, 152, 212, 338, 340 Metabus (king of the Volscians) 149–50 infant daughter Camilla 149, 341 Methana peninsula 56 Methone (city in Macedonian Pieria) 119 Mexico, Gulf of 366, 370 Michelangelo Buonarroti 290 Micyllus 60 Middleton, Christofer 291 Milan 99–100, 161, 329 Miller, C. Lee 47 Milucra 192 Minerva. See Athena mining 93–97, 211, 370 Minturnae 114 Misenum (Miseno) 36, 183

457 Misenus (trumpeter) 257 Mithridates VI (king of Pontus) 108, 115–16 Mnaseas (historian) 70 Mochua of Balla, Saint 197 Moeris, Lake 57 Molephatam (Molepor, Mylapore) 226 Molon (satrap of Media) 133n43 Mona (Anglesey) 145, 344 Montalto di Castro 311 Monte di Procida 294 Morocco, Moroccans 229–30 Morrheus 170 Moselle River 92, 161–62, 169–70, 178, 348, 362 motor skill(s) 4–5, 254, 278 Motya (Mozia) 91 Mouslim Ben Bişr (merchant) 223, 225 Muena (charioteer) 175–76 muirdris 175–76, 196, 362 Mulcaster, Richard 270–72, 334, 355, 369–70 Positions 270–71 Mummolus, Eunius 179, 348 Munda (Monda) 130 Mundilas 161 murex, murices 68–71, 85, 88, 91–93, 105, 310, 360 Musaeus Hero and Leander 167–68 Muses 86 Sicilian 272 Thalia 272–73 Mutina (Modena) 104, 210 Mycalessus 34 Mygdonius (Çakçak Deresı) River 155 Mytilene 20 Naarmalcha (Royal) Canal 157–58, 346 Naiad(s) 165–66 Clymene 166 See also Nereids, nymphs nākhudā 218 Nancy 243 Naples, Gulf of 229 Naples, Neapolitans xi, 140, 213, 229, 295, 331–32 caves of Castel dell’Ovo 332 villa on Bay of 87

458 Native Americans 294, 327–31, 366 Caribs 328 enslaved as pearl divers 328, 363, 370 Lucayos 328 nature xi, 67, 83, 130, 149, 221, 226, 248–49, 252–53, 274–75, 322, 353 Naupactus 113 Nauplius 97 Nearchus 80n16, 125, 343 Neckar River 265 Nemi, lago di 315–21, 364–66, 368 Nemi ship(s) 315–21 Nepos, Cornelius 51 Neptune. See Poseidon Nereids 29, 37–38, 60, 64, 105, 167, 170–71, 336 Doto 92 Galatea 77 Psamathe 88 See also Ino-Leukothea Nereus 37, 63, 170 Nero (emperor) 5, 18, 54, 142 attempt to drown mother 36–37, 336 Ness River 197, 362 Nessus (centaur) 51 Neugenes (fictional swim student) 270, 273–80, 284–86 Neuss (Novaesium) 210, 369 Nicaea 95 Nicanor (Macedonian noble) 124 Niccolò di Giacomo da Bologna 348 Nicomedia, Gulf of 95 Nicomedia (İzmit) 95 Nid River 194–95 nightingales 274 Nile River 56–58, 114, 132–33, 143, 316, 364 annual floods 336 Nisibis 155, 345 Nombre de Dios (Panamanian port) 314 Nonnus (Nonnos) of Panopolis 60, 69, 162–71, 359, 362–63 Dionysiaca 162 voyeurism 162, 165–66, 346–47 North Africa 47, 116, 129, 227, 229–30 North Sea 143, 145, 344 Norway 185, 187, 189, 192, 194–95, 200, 208–09, 349–50 Numantina (Numancia) 104

index Numanus Remulus 14, 142, 149 Numidia, Numidians 22–23, 129, 138–39, 343–44 nymphs 63, 161–62, 165, 171 Arethusa 13 Daphne 38 Nicaea 166, 347 Pholoë 77 Nysa 121, 271n7, 342 obelisk(s) 316, 364 Octavian. See Augustus Octavius, M. 111–12 octopus 78, 81–84, 211–12, 360, 363 Oddi (wizard) 200–01 Oder River 261 Odotheus (chief of Greuthungi) 160 Odysseus 37, 39, 43–45, 50, 53, 64, 97, 259–60, 339 Oebalus (king) 14 Oedipus 51 Oete (Oeta), Mount 41 Olaf I Tryggvason (king of Norway) 188–89, 194–95, 212, 349–50 Olaus Magnus 203–11, 271, 350–51, 366, 368–69 Oleson, John Peter 72, 74 Olympia 50–51, 54–55, 338 Olympic games 60–61 Olympian gods 149–50, 342 Oman 221, 223 Onomarchus 109 Oppian (Oppianus of Corycus) 47, 78–79, 81, 85 Opsopoeus, Vincentius 352 Opus signinum (hydraulic concrete) 19 oratory, orator 8, 13, 75, 256, 333 Orbilius Pupillus, L. 261–62n72 Orestes 34 organists 253 Oricus 106 Orkney Islands 185–87, 195 Ornytus (rower) 107 Orontes 257 Ostia 72–73, 98–99, 215, 361 Ostrogoths 161 Otho (emperor) 142 Ottimo Commento 232

index Ovid (P. Ovidius Naso) 8–9, 16, 32, 47, 52–54, 59–60, 90, 242, 246–47, 253, 276–77, 335–36 Ars amatoria 8, 52 Ibis 29–30 Metamorphoses 30, 64, 273 Oviedo, Fernández de 328 Oxus (Amu Darya) River 122–23, 342 Pactolus (Sart Çayi) River 164, 169, 247 Palamedes 97 Palinurus (helmsman) 45, 257, 259–61 Pampirus (fictional swim tutor) 237–38, 244–68, 289, 353–55 Panaetius of Rhodes (philosopher) 268n93 Panama 314 island of Terarequi 327 Panama, Gulf of 327 Pancrates 57 Panvinio, Onofrio 293 Pap(a) (king of Armenia) 19 Paris (Lutetia) 87, 183, 227, 308 Parthia, Parthians 35 Pasitigris (Karun) River 133 Patrick (Pádraig), Saint 188 Patrizi, Francesco 208, 270–71, 355 Patroclus 65 Pattala 124 Paul, Saint (the apostle) 42–43, 261, 339 Paul the Deacon 176–77, 180–81, 205, 348 Paulus (swimming messenger) 161 Paumgartner, Johann 238 son Johann Georg 238 Pausanias 20–21, 24, 47, 50–51, 54, 56, 59–60, 77, 96, 102–03 nymph Daphne and retinue swimming  38 women of Tanagra swimming 38 pearls 81, 85–90, 92, 168, 221–22, 224, 247, 328–30, 360, 363, 366 Great Age of Pearls 327 noise made by oysters 330 See also free-diving Pegasae, Gulf of 109 Pelion, Mount 102–03 Pella 98 Peloponnesian War 34, 104–05, 108, 110–11, 113

459 Peloponnesus 13, 60 Peneus River 140–41 pepper 217–18, 230, 327 Percey, William 281–82, 291, 331 Perdiccas (Macedonian aristocrat) 57, 132–33 Pérez Mallaína, Pablo E. 314 Periander (tyrant of Corinth) 47, 105 Periplus Maris Erythraei 90 Perozes I (king of Persia) 88–90, 363 Persephone (Persephoneia) 165 Perseus 90 Perseus (king of Macedon) 98, 109, 114, 140–41 Persian Gulf 62, 85–88, 221, 224–25, 229, 360, 363 Persia, Persians 18–19, 33, 54, 69, 88, 102–03, 107, 117–19, 155, 157–59, 204, 225–27, 342, 345–46, 361. See also Parthia Peruca (corsair) 312–13 Peter III (king of Aragon) 229 Peter, Saint (the apostle) 222, 261 Petillius Cerialis Rufus Senior, Q. 146 Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca) 183 Petreius, M. 130 Petronius 43 Phaeacia (Scheria) 43–45, 311 Phaedrus Fables 42 Phalanthus of Sparta 47 Phanesii 245 Pheneus ex-voto of Heracles 94 Pherecrates 66 Philip II (king of Macedon) 109, 119 Philip V (king of Macedon) 111 Philippe VI (king of France) 298 Philo of Alexandria 57, 75n50, 85n38 philosophy 5–6, 13, 22, 54–55, 66–68, 75–76, 83, 218, 272, 299, 333, 359–60, 368 natural 264, 294, 354, 360 Philostratus 20–21, 61, 85, 87, 289 Philoxenus of Cythera 82–83 Phocian League 109 Phoenicia, Phoenicians 88, 93, 103, 110–11, 122. See also Tyre Phormio 113

460 Photius (patriarch of Constantinople) Bibliotheca 89–90 Phrixus 257n57 Phrynichus (lexicographer) 89–90 physical exercise(s) 14–15, 20–21, 58–59, 152–53, 179–80, 199–200, 238–40, 255, 270–71, 289, 292–94, 338, 352, 355 physics 3 buoyancy 18, 24–26, 76, 200, 206, 210, 227, 293, 297, 303–04, 321–23, 329, 351, 366 pressure and volume 331 specific gravity 322, 366 vacuum 322, 366 Physiologus Latinus 223–24 Piccolomini, Enea Silvio. See Pius II Pico della Mirandola, Giovanni 274 Piero della Francesca Madonna di Senigallia 227–28 Pio, Giovanni Battista 263 Piraeus harbor of Munychia 71 pirates 46, 229 Ascitae on Red Sea 17 Barbary xi Tyrrhenian kidnappers of Dionysus xi, 168–69 Pisa 38, 219, 229, 314 Pitane 25 Pithekoussai krater 55 Pius II (pope) 239–40, 315–17, 321, 365 Planudes, Maximus 334 Plato of Athens 8–9, 32, 66n12, 75–76, 239, 334–35, 337, 352, 362 Apology 3 Gorgias 8, 41, 333 Laches 75 Laws 5, 10, 333 Phaedrus 28 Protagoras 75 Republic 28, 41 Sophist 76 Platter, Thomas (schoolmaster) 261–62n72 Plautius, Aulus 144–45 Plautus, T. Maccius 17, 153, 242 Rudens 82 Pliny the Elder (C. Plinius Secundus) 17–18, 24–27, 47, 58, 62, 78–81, 83–84, 86,

index 90–91, 93, 95–97, 103, 105–06, 140, 180n11, 209–11, 245, 264, 311, 316, 326, 344, 360, 363 Pliny the Younger (C. Plinius Caecilius Secundus) 27, 47, 141–42 heated pool for villa at Laurentum 22 swimming-bath and pool at Tuscan villa 22 Plutarch (Plutarchus of Chaeronea) 9, 20, 35n86, 39, 44n12, 47, 49, 60, 79n10, 114, 119–21, 126–27, 131–32, 134–37, 141, 181, 207, 263, 339, 342, 351 collection of proverbs ascribed to 334 story of Arion 26–27 Poletto, Giacomo commentary on Inferno 233 Poliziano, Agnolo Ambrogini detto il 300, 358 Polo, Marco 225, 363 Polybius 41, 133n43, 139, 262 Polyphemus 77 Pompeii 21 House of the Vettii 31 Pompeius, Gn. 106, 130 Pompeius, Sext. 36, 112–13 Pompey the Great (Gn. Pompeius Magnus)  15, 86 Pomponius Mela of Tingentera 262–63 Pontano, Giovanni 213–14, 362 Urania 213 Po River 138, 142, 161, 343 Portugal, Portuguese 325, 368 fortress of São Julião da Barra 327 Porus (king of Gujrat) 123–24, 271 Poseidon 33, 38, 43, 45, 64, 69, 213 Praxagoras History of Constantine the Great 89–90 Procopius of Caesarea 88–90 Procopius of Gaza 89 Promotus, Flavius 160 Propertius, Sextus 30, 47, 257 Provence 91 Provençal merchants 229 proverb(s) xi, 5–7, 10, 14, 35, 59–60, 67–71, 239, 241–43, 249, 258, 265–66, 271, 292, 294, 333–35, 337, 352, 355, 368 compendia 75, 240–41, 333–34 Ptolemaïs Theron (Trinkitat) 48

index Ptolemy I (king of Egypt) 110–11, 114, 132–33 Ptolemy XIII (king of Egypt) 143 Puglia (Apulia) 212, 229 Punic Wars 340 First 107–08, 208, 270–71 Second 137–40, 343–44 Third 36, 140, 344 Purpura, Gianfranco 91–92 Puteoli (Pozzuoli) 42–43, 50, 84, 99 pygmy 245–46, 353 reputed son of Mark Antony 245 Pylades 34 Pyrrho of Elis 42 Pyrrhus of Epirus 1 Qatar 86–87 Quintilian (M. Fabius Quintilianus) 15 Qur’an 226 Rabel, Robert 65 raft(s) 17–18, 25, 86, 118, 123–24, 132, 158–60, 258, 313–15, 318, 338, 342, 346, 353, 360, 364 shield as personal raft 18–19, 116, 133, 138, 156, 158, 164, 177–78, 207, 271, 340, 343, 345–46, 348 Raimon Jordan (troubadour) 212 ram-fish 56 Ramus, Peter 272 Rapallo 230 rapids 35, 121–22, 124n23, 137, 201, 246–47, 353 Ratchis (king of Lombards) 177 Ravenna 183 ray 78–79, 208–09, 326–27, 370–71 Red Sea 17, 48, 85, 87–88, 229, 327 Regensburg (Ratisbon) 267, 354–55 Steinerne Brücke 260, 354 Reggio, Giovanni commentary on Inferno 233 rescue, in-water xi, 26, 36–38, 42, 46–51, 106–14, 127–29, 131–32, 140, 161, 182, 184, 186, 188–90, 201, 204–05, 210, 216, 239, 257–60, 266–67, 286, 288, 299, 338–39, 341, 343, 349, 354, 369 Rhegium (Reggio Calabria) 50–51, 109, 338 rhetoric 3, 5–8, 20, 28, 196, 241–42, 269. See also oratory

461 Rhine River 14, 18, 141–43, 146–47, 156, 210, 247–48, 255, 263, 266, 336, 344–46, 369 rapids at Rheinfelden 246 Rhine Falls at Schaffhausen 246–47, 353 Rhodes, Rhodians 38, 71, 80, 110–11, 118, 215–17, 364 Rhône River 137–38, 158, 179, 207, 270–71, 341, 343, 348 Riculf (priest) 178–79 rip current 44, 339 river(s) 16, 19–20, 24, 35–36, 39, 44, 46, 51, 54, 59–61, 72, 88, 116–51, 154–57, 159, 161–62, 164–65, 171, 179–80, 183–84, 186, 188, 190, 194, 196–97, 201–05, 207–08, 238–39, 242, 244, 246–48, 252, 255–58, 262–63, 266–67, 272–80, 282–87, 293–96, 298–99, 300, 302, 315–16, 336, 338–58, 361, 365–66 Rognvald Kali Kolsson (jarl) 185–86 Roller, Matthew 38 Roman Empire 7, 22, 52, 90–91, 98, 141, 147–48, 154, 160, 335, 343–45 Roman Republic 7, 98, 134–41, 152 Rome, Romans xi, 1, 5–10, 13–19, 21–23, 29–43, 48–49, 51, 58–62, 72–74, 80, 85–87, 90–91, 98–101, 103–05, 107, 109, 111–12, 114–16, 119, 126–29, 131–48, 152–61, 166–67, 169, 205–08, 215–16, 240–42, 244, 255, 258, 262–64, 266, 270–77, 293, 315–17, 319–20, 326, 333–47, 352, 360–61, 363–65, 370 Aqua Marcia 23 Aqua Virgo 16, 23 Aventine hill 99 baths of Agrippa 16 Campus Martius 16, 23, 152–53, 255, 345 Capitoline hill 135–37, 343 Circus Flaminius 58 Euripus (canal) 16, 22, 336 Janiculum hill 134 lacus Curtius in Forum 134 Piscina Publica 21, 293, 337 Pons Probi / Pons Theodosii 99 Pons Sublicius 38–40, 134–35, 244 Quirinal Hill 23 Romulus 133–34 Rosetti, Gabriele commentary on Inferno 231–32

462 Rosso Fiorentino (Giovanni Battista di Iacopo de’ Rossi, detto Il) 288–89 rower(s) 28, 46n18, 62, 107–08, 110, 113–14, 118, 122, 152, 200–01, 238, 252–53, 264, 294, 339, 369 thalamioi 112 zygioi 112 Ruggero II (king of Sicily) 212 Russo, Joseph 335 Rutilius Claudius Namatianus 32, 337 Sabinus, Asilius 5, 333 saga(s) 175–76, 184–92, 194–99, 347–50, 362, 367 of Egil 198 of Grettir 188, 197–98 of King Hrolf Kraki 199 of Njál 188 of the Norwegian kings (Heimskringla)  195 of the Orkney Islanders 185 of the People of Laxardal 186, 188, 194 of Prehistoric Times (Fornaldarsögur)  198–99 of Thrand the Gate 195 sailor(s) 1–2, 36–37, 41, 48–50, 52, 62, 74, 105–07, 110, 118, 122, 128, 170, 195, 208–10, 215, 231–33, 241, 248, 259–60, 266, 311–14, 316, 325, 339, 361, 367–68 Salamis (Cyprus) 110 Salamis (Greece) 33–34, 204, 208, 335, 340, 351 Salimbene de Adam (chronicler) 212–13 Sallust (C. Sallustius Crispus) 98 Sallustius Aventius 100 Sallustius Lucullus, L. 84 Salo (Jalón) River 14 salvage 72–74, 76, 97–98, 102, 184, 197–99, 215–20, 286–87, 300, 309, 312, 314–17, 319–25, 331, 356, 361–69 conceptualized 321–22 failed effort to raise galleon at Venice  324 Italian companies prominent in 321, 324–25, 370 technological aids 300, 303–04, 317–20, 322–24, 365 Samothrace 18 Sandanus (Sardon) River 119

index Sanders, H. A. 32 Saône River 246 Sardinia, Sardinians 56, 229–30 Castelgenovese 230 sargus (sar / white sea bream) 81 Sarmatia, Sarmatians 34–35, 155–57, 260–61, 346 satyrs 161–62, 169, 171 Ampelus 162–65, 347 Pan 15, 77, 162 Sauli, Bandinello (cardinal) 326–27 Saurbae 187 Saxo Grammaticus 199–204, 350–51 Scaeva / Scaevius (Caesarean) 131–32, 207–08, 262, 270, 341, 351 Scamander (Menderes) River 149, 341 Schmiel, Robert 165–66 Schott, Andreas 89–90 sciaena (meagre) 81 Scipio Aemilianus Africanus, P. Cornelius  104, 140 Scipio Africanus, P. Cornelius 138, 140, 150, 152, 207, 270, 341, 351 Sciron (rower) 107 Scribonius Curio, C. 129 Scriptores Historiae Augustae 23 Scultenn (Panaro) River 104n12 Scylla 70, 213–14, 338, 362 Scyllaeum (Squillace) 108 Scythia, Scythians 14, 34–35, 123, 238, 335 seal(s) 56, 185–86, 188, 193, 244, 348 Sea of Marmara 93–95 sea squirt(s) 65 Seleucus Homericus 67, 334 Semele 162–63, 165–66, 347 Sempronius (Ti. Sempronius Longus)  138–39 Seneca the Elder 5, 14, 333, 336 Seneca the Younger 9, 22, 25–26, 58, 76 Oedipus xi Phoenician Women 51 Quaestiones naturales 25 Septimius Severus 15 Septimius Severus (emperor) 15, 103–04 Sertorius, Q. 141, 158, 207, 270–71, 341, 344, 351 Sestus 52, 167 Seville 314, 329

index Sextus Empiricus 9–10, 335–36 Shapur (Sapor) II (king of Persia) 155, 157–59 shark(s) 1–2, 79, 88–89, 329. See also dogfish sheep 24, 168, 274, 277 Sheppey, island of 192 ship-holding fish 105–06 ships, names of Capo Rotondo 312 La Magdalena 314 ships, types of akation 122 bireme 28–29, 311 cumba 30 elephant transport 48 horse transport 114 lembos 114 liburnian 142, 160 muoparo 108, 112 scapha 130, 311 shipwreck 15, 18, 37–38, 41–48, 50–51, 55–56, 74, 76, 78, 188, 204–05, 215–20, 258–61, 267, 299, 314–15, 322, 354, 364 Capo Galera wreck 229 Madrague de Giens wreck 98, 361 Mary Rose 324–25, 370 Nossa Senhora dos Mártires 327 Roman at Zabargad (Zeberged) 91n67 Roman off Quseir al-Qadim 91n67 Sancta Maria et Sanctus Edwardus 325 stylized accounts of 41–42, 339 Sicilian Sea 311 Sicily, Sicilians 13, 17, 25, 36, 61, 67, 91, 112, 129, 212–14, 229, 272, 331–32, 362 Sicoris (Segre) River 129–30 Sicyon Temple of Apollo 94 Side 155–56 Sidebottom, Harry 117 Sidonius Apollinaris 115–16, 154–55, 177 heated and swimming pools at Avitacum 22–23, 345 Sigmund Brestisson 189, 195, 349 companions Einar and Thorir 189 Sigmund Fishhook. See Fishhook, Sigmund Sigurd I Magnusson (king of Norway) 186, 195, 350

463 Sigurd Sigurdson 195 Sigurd Slembir 202, 351 Silens (Sileinoi) 162–63 Silius Italicus 29, 39, 51, 107, 137–40, 152, 207, 351 Simonides of Ceos 42 Sinai Peninsula 25 Sion (Sitten) 249, 266 Siphnos, island of 96 Sirbonis, Lake 25, 54 Sirens 64 Sirmium 104–05 Skallagrim Kveldulfsson (blacksmith)  185–86, 189, 198, 348 “forge of” 198 See also Egil Skallagrimsson Skarphedinn Njálsson 188 Skione (Scione) 70, 75, 102, 361, 368 Skufoy, island of 189 Skylliēs of Skione 38, 70–71, 75, 77, 102–03, 264, 311–12, 361–62, 364 slave(s) xi, 7–8, 17, 42, 46, 71–72, 97, 101, 114, 116, 156–57, 159, 177–79, 185–87, 201–02, 216, 350 African slaves as skilled swimmers 291, 325–28, 330–31, 370–71 indigenous peoples of Americas 328, 363, 370 snake(s) 153, 169, 244–45, 249, 252, 265–66, 273–74, 276 Snorri Sturlusson Heimskringla 195 Socrates 3, 28, 41, 67–68, 243, 258 Sogdiana 123 Sorix (mime) 237 Sorrento 229 Southampton 324–25, 370 Spain, Spaniards 15, 25, 84, 130, 137, 213, 218, 327–30, 370 free-divers on treasure fleets 313 Spartacus 17, 116 Sparta, Spartans 14, 34, 41, 77, 104, 113–15, 117–18, 239, 255, 295 Speidel, Michael 148 Spercheius River 133 Speyer 247 Sphacteria (Sphaktiría) 104 Spinario (bronze) 289–90

464 sponge(s) 2, 63, 68, 70–71, 74, 79–81, 217, 221, 300–02, 308, 310, 360, 362. See also free-diving Sri Lanka (Taprobane) 85–87, 224–25 Mantai 90 Statius (P. Papinius Statius) 14–15, 23, 26n62, 29–32, 52n40, 105, 148–50, 289, 341 Pan not taught to swim 15, 77, 162 Thebaid 30–31, 148, 341 Steingerd 190, 349 Steinn (priest) 198 Stephanus of Byzantium 94–97 Stilicho, Flavius 88, 161 Stork, William (shipping agent) 218–19 Strabo of Amaseia 20n35, 25, 266 Styx River 60 Suda (Suidas) 67–68, 75, 334, 368 Suetonius (C. Suetonius Tranquillus) 6, 10, 37, 50, 126–29, 238, 333–34, 352 Suetonius Paullinus, C. 145 Suez 327 Sulla (L. Cornelius Sulla Felix) 35, 114 Surena (military commander) 157–58 surf 15, 30, 44, 114, 125, 152, 168, 214, 218 surfing 45, 56, 60n67, 187 Sussex County. See England Sweden 184, 219 swimming xi, 1–2, 4–62, 68, 71, 74, 102–68, 175–95, 197, 199–210, 213–15, 230–33, 237–300, 312, 314–16, 318, 321, 326–28, 330–31, 333–59, 362, 368–71 ancient proverb on importance of xi, 5–8, 10, 14, 35, 239, 258, 271, 292, 333–35, 352, 355 appropriate age to learn 7–8, 14–16, 39, 153, 178, 186–88, 191, 205–06, 210, 263, 327–28, 334, 336, 348 art of xi–xii, 4, 8–9, 13–61, 144, 203–10, 237–38, 241–85, 315, 326, 335–36, 347, 351–58 as allegory for Christian spirituality 248, 266–67 back float and backstroke 28, 32, 182, 237–39, 254, 273, 275, 278–82, 337, 347–48, 353–54, 357 barbarians and 33–35, 155–57, 160, 204, 335, 340, 345–46

index benefits of 8, 20, 46–62, 110, 188–90, 206, 244, 262, 292–93, 355 breaststroke 27–29, 32, 163–64, 182–83, 190, 196, 232–33, 251–54, 278, 280–81, 283, 288–89, 294, 337, 347, 349. 353, 357, 367 butterfly 27, 104, 127, 129, 287, 336–37, 340, 369 competitive 27, 29, 58, 60–61, 164–65, 187, 190–95, 245, 273, 338, 349–50, 368 dangers encountered while 3, 43, 50–58, 121–22, 133, 167, 208–09, 238–39, 247–48, 256–58, 260, 269, 275, 279–80, 282–84, 288, 294, 338–39 depictions in art 31, 181–83, 204–09, 278, 287–91, 347–48, 351, 357 dog paddle 29–32, 163–64, 281, 294, 337, 347, 357 entries 120, 250, 277–78, 285, 356–57 flotation devices 16–19, 115–16, 118, 122, 126, 138, 149–50, 159, 177–78, 182, 205–08, 241–42, 250, 278, 295–300, 337, 340–43, 345–46, 351, 353, 357–59 flutter kick 4–5, 163, 347 front crawl 5, 27–32, 163–64, 183, 288–89, 337, 348 in antiquity 13–62, 106–51, 335–46 ability of Caesar 126–29, 340 auxiliaries and Batavi 143–48, 341, 344 by Greek mercenaries in Persia  118–19, 342 inability of Alexander 119–22, 336, 342 legendary Roman heroes 38–40, 134–37, 341, 343 mastery of Hannibal 137–39, 343–44 skilled enemies of Greeks and Romans  141–42, 344–45 swimming heroes fight river deities  148–51, 341 in late antiquity 152–68, 345–47 erotic aquatics 161–62, 165–67, 346–47 Persian campaign of Julian 157–59, 346 training of soldiers 152–55 in Middle Ages 175–97, 199–210, 347–51

index commentaries on Vegetius 183, 348 Danes in Saxo Grammaticus  199–203, 350 Franks and Lombards 176–81, 348 northern peoples in Olaus Magnus  203–09, 350–51 swimming heroes of sagas and epic 175–76, 184–86, 348–50 in Renaissance 237–300, 351–59, 370–71 Black African tutor in Genoa 326–27, 370–71 contribution of engineers 295–99, 358–59 English proponents of 270–72 imprimatur of Erasmus 240–42 recommended for liberal education  238–40 scholarly references to 292–94, 299–300, 358, 370 insulating clothing for 184–86, 190–91, 193, 196, 301, 304, 348 military 62, 106–60, 176, 179, 183–84, 188–90, 200–08, 238–40, 244, 255–56, 262, 270–71, 295, 314–15, 339–46, 348, 350–51, 354, 358 carnage 106–09 places for 14, 16, 19–26, 32, 39, 56, 186, 246–47, 257, 266, 276–77, 288, 293–94, 337–38, 356 sidestroke 166, 280 times for 137, 190, 276, 356 treading water 28, 32–33, 36, 163–65, 194, 210, 254–55, 260–61, 266, 282–83, 336–37, 347, 353–54, 357 women 16, 36–40, 77, 141, 151, 165–67, 180, 204, 238–39, 244–45, 250, 266, 270, 327–28, 336, 347–48, 351–53 See also Digby, Everard; rescue, in-water; Wynman, Nicolas swimming pool(s) 19–24, 27, 30–32, 37, 41, 58, 61, 179, 288–91, 293, 336–38, 345 Switzerland, Swiss 244, 246–49, 261–62n72, 266, 355 Upper Valais 249 Symmachus, Q. Aurelius 99–101 Syracuse, Syracusans 82–83, 106–09 galley harbor of Dascon 111 Syria 26, 57, 105, 335

465 Tabarka 229 Tabriz 225 Taccola, Mariano di Iacopo detto 296–98, 301, 303–05, 317, 359, 366 De machinis 301 Tacitus (Cornelius Tacitus) 9, 36, 115–16, 146, 262–63, 335–36 Annales (Annals) 143–44 Historiae (Histories) 26, 204 Taenarum 47 Tagus River 327 Tamsapor 157 Tarentum (Taras, Taranto) 47 Tartaglia, Niccolò 331, 366–67 diving apparatus 322–24, 367 Tauris (Šcedro) 111–12 Tauromenium (Taormina) 112–13 Taurus, Mount 121 Tentyra (Denderah), Tentyritae 58, 338 Terence (P. Terentius Afer) The Eunuch 251 Terentius Varro, C. 51 Tervingian Goths 159–60 Tethys 64, 88 Tharsys 1–2 Thasos 82 Thebes, Thebans 34, 64–65, 150, 162, 341, 347 Theodoric (king of Ostrogoths) 204–05 Theodosius I (the Great, emperor) 100, 160–61 Theophrastus 94 De lapidibus 85 Theopompus of Cyprus 119 Theris 1 Thermaic Gulf 109 Thermopylae 20 Theseus 69–70, 242, 360 Thetis 170 Thorbjorn Thjodreksson 186–87 Thord the Terror 186, 188, 190, 349 Thorgerd Brak (wet nurse) 185–86, 348 Thorir of Gard 192–93 Thorir Redbeard 186, 193, 349 Thorkell 186, 190 son Eidr 190 Thorolf Skallagrimsson 189 Thrace, Thracians 34, 85, 160, 246

466 Thrand the Gate 189 Thraso (blowhard) 251 Thucydides 60, 108, 310 Thurii, Thurini 109 Tiberinus Silvius (legendary king of Alba Longa) 134, 257 Tiber Island 134, 244 Tiberius (emperor) 316 Tiber River 13, 15–16, 38–40, 59, 72–73, 134–37, 244, 255, 257, 262, 293–94, 336, 338, 341, 343, 345, 351, 361–62 bridge near Aventine hill 99–101 reddish-yellow tint 149, 152–53 Tibullus 30 Ticinus (Ticino) River 181 tidal bore 124–25 Tiepolo, Jacopo (doge of Venice) 220 Tigris River 18–19, 118–19, 157–59, 342, 346 Timotheus (citharist) 33–34, 335 Persians 33 Tiresias 168–69 Tisander of Naxos (boxer) 61 Tissaphernes (Persian satrap) 117–18 Titus (emperor) 5, 62, 167, 333 toad(s) 276, 356 Tolistobogii 116, 133 Torre del Greco 227, 229 tournaments, water 209–10 tragedy 64–65, 67, 359 Trajan (emperor) 141–42, 157, 316 Trani 219 Trann (prince of Ruthenians) 200 Trapani (Drepana) 91, 227 Trasimene, Lake 139, 343–44 Trebatius Testa, C. 59 Trebia (Trebbia) River 138–39, 343 Trebius Niger 78, 84 Trier 177 Trondheim 186, 194–95 Troy, Trojans 14, 44–45, 65–66, 97, 142, 149, 239, 257, 259, 336, 341 Tübingen 265, 363 Tuluin (military commander) 204–05 Tungri 145–46 Tunisia 229, 259, 311 Turks 239–40, 295 Turnus (king of Rutuli) 149, 341 turtle(s) 16–18, 62, 338 Turtle-Eaters (Chelōnophagoi) 62

index Tuscany 22, 30, 230 Tyre, Tyrians 103, 108–10, 165, 361 Tyrrhenian Sea xi, 15, 64, 168, 233, 311, 326 Ulin (Velin), Wilhelm 238 Ulm 260–61 Ulster 175–76 University of Ferrara 310 University of Ingolstadt xii, 238, 351–52 University of Padua 292 Vacalis (Waal) River 147 Vada 147 Valdemar I (king of Denmark) 199, 203 Valens (East Roman emperor) 19, 159–60 Valentinian II (West Roman emperor)  99–100 Valerius Flaccus Setinus Balbus, C. Argonautica 14 Valerius Maximus 40, 131, 183, 208, 262 Varro Terentius, M. 72 Vatinius, P. 111–12 Vegetius Renatus, P. 153–55, 159, 176, 183–84, 199, 240, 270, 345–46 Epitoma rei militaris 153 medieval commentators on 183, 348 speaking initial N in Paris manuscript of  183, 348 woodcuts of divers in first editions  307–08 Veii, Veientes 134, 136–37 Venezuela 327 Cumana 327 island of Cubagua 327 Venice, Venetians 229–30, 232, 294, 301, 312–13, 324–25, 327, 364 Arsenal 220, 324, 368 glassblowers of Murano 322–23 harbor entrance at Malamocco 322 Venus. See Aphrodite Vergerio, Pierpaolo, the Elder xi–xii, 238–39, 294–95, 352 Verrius Flaccus, M. 21 Vespasian (emperor) 5–6, 26, 144, 338 Veveius Papus, P. 361 Victor, Count (comes) 158 Vienna 32, 237–38 island in Danube at 237, 257 Vikings 176, 190

467

index villa(s) 22–23, 52n40, 87, 98–99, 345, 361 Virgil (P. Vergilius Maro) 14, 53–54, 98–99, 137, 142, 149–50, 230–31, 233, 240, 244, 272–73, 280 Aeneid 40, 149, 259, 273 ship race 44–45 Eclogues 273 Visigoths 161 Vitellius (emperor) 142 Viti, Paolo 300 Vitruvius Pol(l)io 24–25, 54 Volcae 137–38 Volturnus (Volturno) River 140 Waal River. See Vacalis River weavers 253 Wends 201–03, 208, 350 Weser River 144, 344 whale(s) 55–56, 338 killer whale (Orcinus orca) 56 whirlpool(s) 214, 246–47, 256, 265 Whitaker, William 272 Wienfluss (Danube tributary) 237 Wilson, Nigel Guy 89–90 wind(s) 15–16, 28, 41–42, 45, 48–50, 53, 59–60, 64, 104, 107, 116, 122, 166, 168, 191, 210, 231, 254, 314, 347, 361 Auster (South) 276, 356 Boreas (North) 276, 356 Eurus (East Southeast) 276, 356 Zephyr (West) 276, 356 Wisby 219 Wolf (yeoman) 187, 348 worms 276, 283, 356 Worms (city) 247 Wortley (Wourtley), Richard 272 wreckers 218–20, 364 myth of Nauplius 97 Wynman (Winmann / Weinmann), Nicolas  xii, 237–38, 243–68, 270, 273, 289, 334, 351–55, 357, 363, 366–67, 369 back float and stroke 237–38, 254, 353–54

Colymbetes 237, 243–44, 351 danger of drowning 246, 248, 255–58, 261, 266–67, 353–54 focus on breaststroke 251–54, 353 German heroics as swimmers 262–63, 354 influence of Erasmus on 266–68, 352, 354–55 lifesaving techniques 258–61, 266–67, 354 on free-diving 263–65, 363, 366–67, 369 places to learn to swim 246–47, 353 rationale for swimming 255–62, 352, 354 swimming for men and women 244–46, 248, 352–53 swim techniques 249–55, 353–54 treading water 254–55, 266, 354 Xanthus (Kınık) 104 Xanthus (river god) 149, 341 Xenophon of Athens 50, 117–19, 122, 342 Anabasis 117 Xenophon of Ephesus Ephesiaca 15–16, 46, 49 Xerxes I (king of Persia) 102–03, 107, 361 Yemen 85, 227 Yūhannā Ibn Māsawayh (physician) 221, 224 Zara (Zadar) 219 Zenobius Grammaticus 334 Zeno, Raniero (doge of Venice) 220 Zeus 149, 155, 162, 164–66, 254, 347 zodiacal signs Aquarius 73 Delphinus 27, 33, 73–74 Pisces 73, 263–64, 369 Zurich 244–45, 250–51, 352–53 statue of Saint Nicholas 250 Wasserkirche 250–51 Wellenberg prison 259 Zurich, Lake 249–50, 353