Home is now the ceturies-old town of Lund, one of Sweden’s three main university towns. It lies in the region of Skåne, on the southwestern coast of Sweden. It was a 12-hour drive from home on that day near the end of July, including stops for lunch and for afternoon tea. From the port of Puttgarden north of Hamburg, a ferry took me into Denmark, leaving another hour for Copenhagen, the Øresund Bridge (pictured) over to my new home.

Lund is my kind of town : not too big, not too cold, the seaside nearby. During the summer, I was able to enjoy the coast’s sandy beaches (right). But for now, I’m staying indoors redecorating, or weeding the garden, or reading -- in short, enjoying the free time. I have a year’s sabbatical leave, so there’s no actual job to crease my brow. The one project I mean to focus on is writing (and publishing !) a novel, a mystery set in Rome. Unless the scenery changes to medieval Lund, with a cold-blooded murder on a dark winter’s night....

During a recent business trip, I found time to indulge my favourite passion after ancient Roman history : gardens. It was a grey rainy day, but nothing could stop me from paying a visit to the Hortus Botanicus Amsterdam.

It is a small garden in the town centre, not more than 1.2 hectares. Originally, it was a medicinal herb garden founded by the Amsterdam City Council in 1638 following a severe epidemic of the plague. Medicinal herbs were the basic treatment for many ills, and remedies had scarcely changed since the days of Hippocrates. The recipes of the ancient Mediterranean world relied on numerous plants.
Doctors and pharmacists trained at the Hortus Botanicus in the preparation of herbal prescriptions. The Dutch East India Company aided the medical profession by bringing in exotic plants reputed for their therapeutic virtues. Between the 17th and 20th centuries, the Hortus grew to include the Palmhouse (1912), the Oranjerie (1875) which is now a cosy indoor/outdoor café, and small ponds.

Most recently (1993), a 3-climate greenhouse was built. Its subtropical section houses plants from South Africa and Australia ; the tropical section gathers jungle palms and orchids, and the desert section’s

Another star is the Wollemi Pine (right). It was thought to have died out until several specimens were discovered growing in an unexplored gorge in southwestern Australia in 1994. The Hortus houses many other plants on the list of species threatened with extinction.
All photos © Mauricius Fabius.

In going over these events, I came across a few words about the YFE and Cremona in Mikhail I. Rostovtzev’s book The Social and Economic History of the Roman Empire, vol. 2. He wonders how it was possible for Romans to behave with such cruelty in dealing with fellow Romans. In his opinion, the Year of the Four Emperors revealed deeply-felt animosity between the haves and have-nots. He writes : “The bitterness and cruelty of the struggle, the tragedy of the sack of Cremona, the wholesale slaughter of rich men by the soldiers, whether victors or vanquished, in Italy and Rome, show that even among the legionary soldiers, to say nothing of the auxiliaries, there was a growing enmity towards the ruling classes of Italy and their supporters, the praetorians, who represented the city population, and especially the city bourgeoisie, of Italy.” (p. 87)

One consequence was that Vespasian, as emperor, ceased recruiting Italian youths into the Roman legions. While some historians might conclude that this measure was one of necessity - most of Italy’s young men were dead - Rostovtzev believes this was rather a deliberate change of policy. Vespasian wanted to keep Italian citizens out of the legions, though he continued to admit them into the cohorts. Under Vespasian, the legions were filled with men from Rome’s foreign provinces. Rostovtzev explains this policy thus : “I incline to view that Vespasian, who thoroughly understood the history and causes of the civil war, became afraid of the aspirations and the political mood of the Italian volunteers. He did not desire to have in the legions Italian-born soldiers, because these soldiers would be drawn from the unruly, discontented, and highly inflammable elements of the population, the city and rural proletariat of Italy. There was a danger that the army might again become an army of proletarian citizens of Rome, as under the later Republic, and renew the age of the civil wars.” (p. 88)

But back to Cremona. Whether or not this analysis is correct, the fact remains that Cremona, a city that had risen from village to wealthy city in just three hundred years, suffered more than just material damage. It’s as if the behaviour of the Flavian troops annihilated its spirit. For over a thousand years, the town lay as lifeless, though it was ideally situated on the Via Postumia connecting southern Gaul with the Danubian provinces and, ultimately, with Byzantium and Antioch. In other words, it lay on a vital trade route of the Roman Empire. And yet, it remained dormant.

“Money doesn’t buy happiness” is the obvious moral of the story. My own point of view is a bit different. A person attacked or betrayed (the Cremonans) by one trusted, one to whom one has surrendered one’s fate (the Flavian legions), suffers a trauma that can affect an entire region for hundreds of years. Such is the poison of human cruelty. It’s not just a question of technological superiority. It’s a question of maintaining one’s humanity. No matter whom you’re dealing with.

Read M. F. Furius’ and my retelling of events starting here.

Geneva has no qualms about catering diligently to purses spilling over with petro-dollars. Downtown, one woman out of three seemed to be either swathed in veils or in the raven-black burqa. There were even a few on the boat. But though the recorded commentary ran on in five languages, Arabic was not one of them.
The sights to see around the lake consisted mostly of villas and mansions. There’s the famous “Gothic” mansion built by Baron van Outhoorn, and once owned by the toothpaste franchise Colgate (middle left in the link). There’s the villa that belonged to Josephine before Napoleon dumped her for the more imperial Marie-Louise of Austria. We saw the Villa Bartholoni which Mrs. Woodrow Wilson once rented and is now Geneva’s Science Museum, and the magnificent, sprawling château of Baron de Rothschild (it’s the one at the top). And a few others, like the 17^th-century château, formerly owned by the Dukes of Savoy but presently owned by Saudi princes whose names were dutifully proclaimed by the pre-recorded guide.
Geneva has a fair number of parks. It was nice to be able to pause in one where several games of chess were being played with pieces at least two feet tall.

But my nose was on the scent of vestiges of people from more ancient worlds. The cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul has been excavated and one can visit what remains of houses and the church dating from the fifth century A.D. One floor space (below) from the original bishopric shows a continuing of the ancient Roman tradition of mosaic floors, in this case with geometric designs.

Eventually, I found my way to the Fine Arts Museum which houses a collection of Egyptian, Greek and Roman antiquities as well as a section on the Allobroges, the Gallic nation that ancient Rome conquered and slowly became “inculturated.” I lingered in this latter section, eager to learn more about the people about whom I wrote a few posts last year for the Year of the Four Emperors thread. The Allobroges had at first resisted Vitellius, being loyal to Otho, the Emperor residing in Rome. Photography is forbidden throughout the museum, but I sneaked one of a human skeleton, one of several discovered not quite two centuries ago and whose skulls show that the cause of death was being struck with a sharp weapon.

The pools are no longer in place, but distinct architectural features show how the Romans built their thermae. Panels indicated the furnaces which provided heating for the caldarium, and the tepidarium. A panel explained the piping system which heated floors and the baths. The total surface area that received heating is amazing. Separate piping evacuated the smoke from the furnaces.

The women’s bathing quarter is the best preserved. One can see a small oval pre-bathing pool dug about three feet into the ground. The women could sit around the edge to bathe their feet and legs while echanging gossip. The bathing pools’ exact dimensions are lost, but they measured at least twelve by twenty feet.

A significant number of statues of Aesculapius were discovered, as well as two of Apollo and one of Hygenia. There were also steles dedicated to doctors, including the only one in Roman Gaul known to be dedicated to a female doctor.

There were so many other exceptional pieces in this museum – mosaics, glassware, wall paintings, ceiling paintings, domestic what-not, etc. How I regretted not having brought my camera !

What also struck me is that the baths themselves were discovered quite by accident. In 1935, the museum needed to expand. The city authorised digging in order to set up a basement level. Within hours of digging they discovered ancient Roman artefacts, followed by pavement and Roman brickwork identified as baths. It was decided that the new wing of the museum would be built around these Roman vestiges.

Here at AW too, there are people who have no qualms about displaying their disrespect for people with opinions or religious beliefs other than their own. Jews, Christians, Moslems, Atheists, all of these have shown in the not-so-distant past how intolerant they can be. Believers in God or non-believers, both tribes feel the need to defend their religion, since it is impossible to demonstrate scientifically the existence or the non-existence of God. They just have to believe.

But it seems that in order to defend the supremacy of their respective religion, believers and non-believers all preach the same sermon again and again : thou shalt denigrate thy neighbours for their religious beliefs. No sooner said than done ! Hitler and Stalin were both pretty good at that. I’m sure they’d be comforted to know they have a large following to this day. Probably the great majority.

I’m too old-fashioned. I delude myself with the notion that prejudice, like all forms of hate, does not bring happiness. I hang on to the claim that I am a person, whatever my skin colour, my sex, my sexual orientation, my religious orientation, my nationality, my favourite food and the clothes I wear, that it is not right to be belittled on those grounds, and that that holds true for everybody. But a lot of people enjoy sneering at others, God or no God. Must be too much to ask to be allowed to live in peace.

AW members have expressed their appreciation of the whole project. I was even awarded a special plaque. A number of people contributed to the project’s major achievement : making use of AW’s potentials for creating an interesting website. People did coding, made images, puzzles and games, maps, and added pertinent information and comments in YFE’s sister threads, like The Life of Vespasian. I would like to thank all of them.

Most of all, my gratitude goes to M. Fabius Furius who first conceived of the idea of a collaborative re-enactment of an important slice of ancient Roman history. He taught me how to organise myself better in order to help manage the project and see it through to completion. His patience and confidence enabled me to persevere to the end and still have a blast while taking on responsibilities. For all he has done for YFE over the past year, I am deeply grateful.