Serpent

Serpent (pronounced sur-puhnt)

(1) A literary or dialect word for snake.

(2) A wily, treacherous, sly, deceitful, unscrupulous or malicious person.

(3) In the Old Testament, a manifestation of Satan as a guileful tempter (Genesis 3:1–5).

(4) A firework that burns with serpentine motion or flame.

(5) An obsolete wooden wind instrument, bass form of the cornet, with a serpentine shape and a deep, coarse tone.

(6) In astronomy (with initial capital letter), the constellation Serpens.

1250-1300: From Middle English and Middle French, from the Latin serpent (stem of serpēns (a creeping thing)).  Latin root was serpentem (nominative serpens) from serpere (to creep), related to the Greek herpein (to crawl) and herpeton (serpent).  In Old French, sarpent was used interchangeably for snake and serpent as was does in the Sanskrit sarpati and the Albanian garper.  The figurative use dates from its early days, influenced by the Biblical association with Satan while the use to express spiral or sinuous shapes (such as the musical instrument) was first noted in 1730.  Use of the phrase “serpent's tongue” as figurative of venomous or stinging speech is from mistaken medieval notion that the serpent's tongue was its sting and name was also given to fossil shark's teeth circa 1600; use faded as scientific techniques improved.  Serpent is a noun & verb, serpentine is a noun, verb & adjective and serpentlike is an adjective; the noun plural is serpents.

The serpent and the downfall of man

Serpents appear frequently in the Bible.  In Exodus, sticks become snakes and the devil appears in serpent form in Psalms, Genesis and Revelation.  Leviathan is a serpent in Isaiah and a sea-going beast exists in Amos and the prophet Jeremiah compares, perhaps unfairly, the King of Babylon to a serpent.  The word viper is used as a term of disparagement by both John the Baptist and Jesus although the latter also expresses the Hebrew notion of serpents as symbols of wisdom.  Best known is when, in the Old Testament (Genesis 3:1-20), it’s a serpent slithering around the Garden of Eden which tempts Eve to taste the forbidden fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

The Garden of Earthly Delights (circa 1505), a triptych in oil on oak panels by Hieronymus Bosch (c 1450-1516), Museo del Prado, Madrid. 

The fruit has always attracted interest.  It was in the early texts only ever described as forbidden "fruit" but centuries of speculation followed discussing which fruit the serpent may have chosen; most popular has always been the apple but suggestions have included grapes, figs, dates, pomegranates, bananas and even psychoactive mushrooms.  Because of the nature of the allegory in the Book of Genesis, the banana is probably the most obviously tempting of fruits to link to the tale and during the Middle Ages the notion appeared in several places.  In 1277, Nathan HaMe’ati translated the Pirkei Moshe (The Medical Aphorisms of Moses) by influential medieval Sephardi Jewish philosopher and Torah scholar Maimonides (1138–1204) from Arabic into Hebrew.  In the section detailing the medicinal effects of the banana HaMe’ati calls it the “apple of Eden”, a use echoed by the sixteenth-century Rabbi Menachem de Lonzano, in his Ma’arich (a work explaining foreign words in rabbinic literature), who documented the banana as a well-known fruit in Syria and Egypt known to the Arabs as “the apple of Gan Eden”.  Today, some bananas are known by the Latin names Musa paradisiaca (fruit of paradise) and Musa sapientum (fruit of knowledge).  Identifying the Tree of Knowledge with the banana appears to be a Christian tradition from at least the twelfth century that enjoyed popularity but was never adopted by rabbinic sources.  So it tends still to be the apple which is most associated with the tree but were a modern translator to seek a younger audience, they might be tempted by cherries.  Theologically, it’s sterile speculation, the type of fruit mattering not at all.  The purpose of the allegory is to explain (1) there are consequences if one disobeys God, (2) that all are guilty of sin and (3), the downfall of mankind was all Eve’s fault.

Not entirely improbable as a twenty-first century Eve, while on holiday in Thailand, just after Christmas 2017, Lindsay Lohan was bitten by a snake and while said to have made a full recovery, there was never any word on fate of serpent.  The syndicated story on the internet attracted comment from the grammar Nazis who demanded it be verified the snake really was on holiday in Thailand.

Chimera

Chimera (pronounced ki-meer-uh or kahy-meer-uh)

(1) A mythological, fire-breathing monster commonly represented with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a the tail of a dragon or serpent (often with initial capital).

(2) Any similarly grotesque monster having disparate parts, especially as depicted in decorative art.

(3) A horrible or unreal creature of the imagination.

(4) A vain or idle fancy.

(5) In biology, an organism (especially a cultivated plant) composed of two or more genetically distinct tissues, as an organism that is partly male and partly female, or an artificially produced individual having tissues of several species.

(6) In applied genetics, a slang term used by scientists describing one who has received a transplant of genetically and immunologically different tissue.

(7) In medicine, twins with two immunologically different types of red blood cells.

(8) In zoology, (using the alternative spelling chimaera) any of various cartilaginous fishes of the order Chimaeriformes.

1350-1400: From the Middle English chimera, from the Old French chimere, from the Medieval Latin chimera, from the Classical Latin chimaera, from the Ancient Greek Χίμαιρα (Khímaira or Chímaira) (she-goat).  Chimaera translates literally a "year-old she-goat", the masculine form being khimaros from kheima (winter season) from the primitive Indo-European gheim (winter) and related to the Latin hiems (winter), the Ancient Greek cheimṓn (winter), the Old Norse gymbr and the English gimmer (ewe-lamb of one year (ie one winter) old).  The alternative spelling chimaera is used always of the fish and sometimes of the mythological beast.

The chimaera, a mythical fire-breathing creature depicted often with a lion's head, a goat's body and the tail of a dragon or serpent, was one of the many fantastical offspring of Typhon and Echidna and a sibling of such monsters as Cerberus and the Lernaean Hydra.  In all of antiquity, sighting the chimeara was an omen of storms, shipwrecks, and natural disasters (particularly volcanoes).  It was depicted usually by (almost always male) writers as female and was killed by the hero Bellerophon in Lycea.  There arose the tradition that the chimaera was supposedly an ancient personification of snow or winter, but the connection to winter might be no more than the ancient habit of reckoning years as "winters" and maybe just another of the many quasi-mythological imaginings of Medieval writers.  It was in antiquity held to represent a volcano so perhaps the idea of a link to a symbol of "winter storms" (another sense of Greek kheima) and generally of destructive natural forces held some appeal. The word was used generically for "any grotesque monster formed from parts of other animals" which in the pre-modern world were frequently conjured up for any number of reasons.

The now extinct alternative spelling was chimeraor and the practice of using an initial capital (known from Latin) when describing the mythical monster is common although there’s no basis in the rules of English.  The most common modern use, the figurative meaning "wild fantasy" was known in thirteen century French and first recorded in English in the 1580s.

Bellerophon Riding Pegasus Fighting the Chimaera (1635) by Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640).

Drake

Drake (pronounced dreyk)

(1) The male of any duck.

(2) As “Drake equation”, a formula proposed as a mechanism to estimate the number of active, communicative extraterrestrial civilizations in the Milky Way galaxy.

(3) A small-bore cannon, used mostly in the seventeenth & especially in the 17th and 18th centuries.

(4) A dragon (archaic).

(5) In angling, an artificial fly resembling a mayfly.

(6) A fiery meteor, comet or shooting star (archaic).

(7) A beaked galley or Viking warship.

1250–1300: From the Middle English drake (male duck, drake), from the Old English draca, an abbreviated form of the Old English andraca (male duck, drake (literally “duck-king”), from the Proto-West Germanic anadrekō (duck leader) and cognate with the Middle Dutch andrake, the Low German drake, the Dutch draak (drake), the German Enterich (drake) and the dialectal German drache.  In the Old High German, the equivalent forms were antrahho & anutrehho (male duck).  The archaic meaning in Middle English (a dragon; Satan) dates from before 900 and was from the Old English draca (in the sense of “dragon, sea monster, huge serpent”), from the Proto-West Germanic drakō (dragon), from the Latin dracō (dragon), from the Ancient Greek δράκων (drákōn) (serpent, giant seafish), from δέρκομαι (dérkomai) (I see clearly), from the primitive Indo-European derḱ-.  The Proto-Germanic drako was productive, the source also of the Middle Dutch and Old Frisian drake, the Dutch draak, the Old High German trahho and the German drache.  In a footnote in the long history of the Royal Navy, HMS Marshal Ney, the ship once known as "the worst ship in the navy" was briefly (during her surprisingly long service) re-named HMS Drake.  Drake is a noun, the noun plural is drakes.

Guilty as sin.  Functional necrophilia by a drake: In November 2001, a researcher at Natuurmuseum (Museum of Natural History), Rotterdam, reported the first known case of homosexualnecrophilia in the mallard duck (mallard Anas platyrhynchos (Aves: Anatidae)).

In idiomatic use, the phrase “ducks and drakes” (usually in the form “playing ducks and drakes”) dates from 1585 and means “recklessly or irresponsibly to behave with something valuable or to waste something precious”.  The origin is believed to lie in the pastime of throwing flat stones across the surface of water (known also as “skipping stones”, “stone skiffing” or “skimming stones”, the allusion being to the behavior of the water as the stones bounce before eventually losing energy and sinking, the effect (the circular rings produced by the skipping stone) said to be something like that created by the splashing of ducks and drakes (and waterfowl in general).  It was thus a a reference to doing something in a haphazard and careless manner, without any particular aim or purpose and over time, came to be used generally to refer to any kind of wasteful or irresponsible behavior.  It accurately described the pointlessness of skimming stones but was something of a slight on the birds; their activities on water an indication of their industriousness.  The sense of “to squander, to throw away” emerged in 1614, the notion being “throwing money away, as if throwing away stones in this pastime”.  The perfectly-shapes stone for the purpose (flattish & disc-like) was called a drakestone and in parts of northern England the pastime was known as drakestoning.

The Drake equation

The Drake Equation is a mathematical formula developed in 1961 by US astrophysicist Dr Frank Drake (1930–2022) to estimate the number of intelligent civilizations that (1) might exist in our Milky Way galaxy and (2) be capable of communicating with us. The equation takes into account various factors, such as the number of habitable planets, the probability of life forming on those planets, and the likelihood of intelligent life evolving.  The equation takes the form:

N = R* × fp × ne × fl × fi × fc × L

where:

N = the number of civilizations in our galaxy that are within the parameters capable of communicating with us
R* = the rate of star formation in our galaxy
fp = the fraction of stars that have planets
ne = the average number of habitable planets per star with planets
fl = the fraction of habitable planets that develop life
fi = the fraction of planets with life that develop intelligent life
fc = the fraction of intelligent civilizations that develop technology to communicate with others
L = the length of time such civilizations release detectable signals into space

Sixty-odd years ago, Dr Drake was well aware his equation was not a tool of immediately practical application because there was no certainty about any of the values.  Additionally, the formula was designed not to estimate the actual volume of intelligent life in the galaxy but the number of instances where the conditions might exist which would allow an intelligent to broadcast radio transmissions into space.  Since then, we’ve actually been able to better quantify two of the variables but the equation remains an interesting, speculative device and it remains a widely used tool for discussion and debate.

Portrait of Sir Francis Drake (circa 1581), oil on panel by an unknown artist, National Portrait Gallery, London.  A navigator and buccaneer (a kind of pirate), Sir Francis Drake (1540–1596) was the first Englishman to sail around the world (1577–80) and is best remembered for his command of the fleet which faced the Spanish Armada in 1588.

Gargoyle & Grotesque

Gargoyle (pronounced gahr-goil)

(1) A grotesquely carved figure of a human or animal crafted as an ornament or projection, especially in Gothic and neo-Gothic architecture.

(2) In architecture, a spout, terminating in a grotesque representation of a human, animal or supernatural figure with open mouth, projecting from the gutter of a building for throwing rain water clear of a building.

(3) Archaic slang for person with a grotesque appearance, especially if small and shrivelled.

(4) Fictional monsters; pop-culture creations inspired by the decorative and/or functional projections in Gothic and neo-Gothic architecture.

1250–1300: From the Middle English gargoile & gargurl (grotesque carved waterspout) from the Old French gargouille & gargoule (throat) and it’s from here modern English gets gargle.  Even in the Gothic period, not all gargoyles were conduits for draining rainwater; many were purely decorative and were therefore grotesques.

Grotesque (pronounced groh-tesk)

(1) In architecture, a thing odd, unnatural or fantastic in the shaping and combination of forms, as in the sixteenth-century decorative style (in any material) combining incongruous human, animal or supernatural figures with scrolls, foliage etc.

(2) Distorted, deformed, weird, antic, wild.

(3) In the classification of art, of or characteristic of the grotesque.

(4) In typography, the family of 19th-century sans serif display types

1555:1565: From the Middle French grotesque from the Italian grottesco (of a cave), derived from grotta from the Vulgar Latin grupta.  Ultimate root is the Classical Latin crypta from which English picked up crypt.  Grotta entered French from the Italian pittura (grottesca) (cave-painting) and it was via French English picked up grotto.  Connection with the decorative forms attached to gothic architecture is the fantastical nature of some cave-paintings.  Spreading from Italian to the other European languages, the term was long used interchangeably with arabesque and moresque for decorative patterns using curving foliage elements.

The Engineering of Water Management

Gargoyle: Bern Minster, Switzerland.

Often used interchangeably, the technical difference between gargoyles and grotesques is that gargoyles contain a water sprout, carved usually through the mouth, whereas grotesques do not.  A gargoyle thus has a function in engineering whereas a grotesque’s purpose is essentially decorative although it is nominally functional in that they were believed to provide protection from evil, harmful, or unwanted spirits.  The application of more modern techniques of rainwater management has had the effect of turning many gargoyles into grotesques although architectural historians maintain the original designations.  As long ago as the sixteenth century, drainpipes were installed in the Notre Dame cathedral in Paris so the gargoyles became merely ornamental, although, they did of course continue to ward off evil.

Gargoyle: Cologne Cathedral, Germany.

The number of gargoyles attached to a building and their size and shape was a product of climate and fluid dynamics.  Architects used multiple gargoyles to divide the flow of rainwater off the roof to minimize the potential damage of a rainstorm and that number was influenced by the rainfall prevalent in the area where the structure sat.  The architect needed to consider not the annual rainfall but the heaviest prolonged rain-events expected; they thus had to cater for peak demand and the gargoyles needed to be sufficient in total capacity to evacuate the volume of water expected during the heaviest falls.  To achieve this, a trough was cut in the back of the gargoyle, rainwater typically exiting through the open mouth.  Gargoyles usually assumed their elongated fantastical animal forms because the length of the gargoyle determines how far water was thrown from the wall, the shape thus determined by fluid dynamics.  Prior to the extensive use of pipes reaching to the ground, the gargoyles were sometimes augmented by other techniques; when Gothic flying buttresses were used, aqueducts were sometimes cut into the buttress to divert water over the aisle walls.  Typically cut from stone, Non-ferrous metals and alloys such as aluminium, copper, brass and bronze have been used.

Grotesque: Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Edinburgh.

The term originates from the French gargouille (throat; gullet) from the Latin gurgulio, gula & gargula (gullet; throat) and similar words derived from the root gar (to swallow) which represented the gurgling sound of water (such as the Spanish garganta (throat) & g‡rgola (gargoyle)).  It was connected also to the French verb gargariser (to gargle).  Most helpful are the languages where the translation is architecturally precise.  The Italian word for gargoyle is doccione o gronda sporgente (protruding gutter), the German is Wasserspeier (water spewer) and the Dutch is waterspuwer (water spitter or (even better) water vomiter).  A building with gargoyles is said to be "gargoyled" but, during the Middle Ages, babewyn was slang used to describe gargoyles and grotesques, a word derived from the Italian babuino (baboon), an indication of what the things resembled, especially when viewed from a distance.  The size and shape of a gargoyle was thus dictated by function but the detail was left to the imagination of the designer.  Those creating grotesques had few limitations.  Because of the need to scare off and protect from evil or harmful spirits, the carvings often had the quality of chimeras, creatures a mix of different types of animal body parts creating a new animal, some notable chimeras being griffins, centaurs, harpies, and mermaids, these eerie figures serving as a warning to those folk who might underestimate the devil.

Grotesque: National Cathedral, Washington DC.

In water management, the gargoyle has a long history.  In the architecture of Ancient Egypt, there was little variation, the spouts typically in the form of a lion's head carved into the marble or terracotta cymatium of the cornice.  The Temple of Zeus had originally 102 of these but, being rendered from marble, they were heavy and many have broken off or been stolen and only 39 remain.  Nor have they always been chimeric, some instead depicting monks, or combinations of real animals and people, many of which were humorous but as urbanisation increased, building codes were imposed which rendered the gargoyles, expect for their spiritual purpose, obsolete.  Typical was London’s 1724 Building Act which mandated the use of downpipes compulsory on all new constructions.

Gargoyle: Marble Church, Bodelwyddan, Clwyd, Wales.

Within the Church however, the spiritual function wasn’t without controversy.  Gargoyles were thought to keep evil outside a church but existed also to convey messages to a people who usually were illiterate, scaring them into attending church, a reminder that the end of days was near.  However, there were some medieval clergy who viewed gargoyles as a form of idolatry and Burgundian abbot, Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153), was famous for his frequent denunciations, his objections theological, aesthetic and fiscal:

"What are these fantastic monsters doing in the cloisters before the eyes of the brothers as they read?  What is the meaning of these unclean monkeys, these strange savage lions, and monsters?  To what purpose are here placed these creatures, half beast, half man, or these spotted tigers?  I see several bodies with one head and several heads with one body.  Here is a quadruped with a serpent's head, there a fish with a quadruped's head, then again an animal half horse, half goat.  Surely if we do not blush for such absurdities, we should at least regret what we have spent on them."

Grotesque: Crooked Hillary Clinton (digitally altered image).

Even after drainpipes took over responsibilities for drainage, the tradition was maintained by the grotesque, sometimes emulating the earlier elongated lines, sometimes more upright.  Grotesques were popular as decoration on nineteenth and early twentieth century skyscrapers and cathedrals in cities such as New York Minneapolis, and Chicago, the stainless steel gargoyles on New York’s Chrysler Building especially celebrated by students of the art.  The twentieth century collegiate form of the Gothic Revival produced many modern gargoyles, notably at Princeton University, Washington University in Saint Louis, Duke University, and the University of Chicago.  One extensive collection of modern gargoyles is on the National Cathedral in Washington DC.  Beginning in 1908 the cathedral was first encrusted with limestone demons but, over the years, many have been added including Star Wars character Darth Vader, a crooked politician, robots and other modern takes on the ancient tradition.  In England, Saint Albans Cathedral has a grotesque of former Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Robert Runcie and one of an astronaut adorns the Cathedral of Salamanca in Spain.

Grotesque: Astronaut, Cathedral of Salamanca in Spain 

Grotesque: Star Wars' Darth Vadar, National Cathedral, Washington DC.

Gargoyles: Notre-Dame Cathederal, Paris.

Gargoyle: Saint Nicholas Church, Luneburg, Germany.

Grotesque: Former Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Robert Runcie, St Albans Cathedral, England.

Gargoyle: Tallinn Town Hall, Estonia.

Ambrosia

Ambrosia (pronouced am-bro-zia)

(1) In classical mythology, the food (sometimes called nectar) of the gods and said to bestow immortality.

(2) Something especially delicious to taste or smell.

(3) A fruit dish made of oranges and shredded coconut.  Sometimes includes pineapple.

(4) Alternative name for beebread.

(5) Any of various herbaceous plants constituting the genus Ambrosia, mostly native to America but widely naturalized: family Asteraceae (composites).  The genus includes the ragweeds.

1545-1555.  From the Middle English, from the Old French ambroise, from the Latin ambrosia (favored food or drink of the gods) from the Ancient Greek ambrosia (food of the gods), noun use of the feminine of ambrosious (thought to mean literally "of the imortals") from ambrotos (immoratlity; immortal, imperishable).  The construct was a- (not) + mbrotos (related to mortos (mortal), from the primitive Indo-European root mer- (to rub away, to harm (also "to die" and used widely when forming words referring to death and to beings subject to death).  Writers in Antiquity woud use the word when speaking of theit favorite herbs and it's been used in English to describe delectable foods (though originally of fruit drinks) since the 1680s and came to be used figuratively for anything delightful by the 1730s.  Applied to certain herbs by Pliny and Dioscorides; used of various foods for mortals since 1680s (originally of fruit drinks); used figuratively for "anything delightful" by 1731.  The adjective ambrosial dates from the 1590s in the sense of "immortal, divine, of the quality of ambrosia", the sense of "fragrant, delicious" developed by the 1660s.  The other adjectival forms were ambrosiac (circa 1600) & ambrosian (1630s).

Ambrose was the masculine proper name, from the Latin Ambrosius, from the Ancient Greek ambrosios (immortal, belonging to the immortals),  The Biblioteca Ambrosian (Ambrosian Library) in Milan (1609), established by Cardinal Federico Borromeo (1564–1631), is named for Saint Ambrose of Milan (circa 339–397) Bishop of Milan 374-397.

Cupid, Psyche and the Nectar of the Gods

In Greek mythology, Psyche was the youngest and loveliest of a king’s three daughters.  So haunting was Psyche’s beauty that people travelled from afar to pay homage, neglecting the worship of Venus (Aphrodite), the goddess of love and beauty, instead venerating the nymph.  Venus became enraged at finding her altars deserted, men instead turning their devotions to the young virgin, watching as she passed, singing her praises and strewing her way with chaplets and flowers.

Indignant at the exaltation of a mortal, Venus began her righteous rant.  "Am I then to be eclipsed in my honors by a mere mortal girl?  In vain then did that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by Jove himself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, Pallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty."  Venus summoned her winged son, the mischievous Cupid and telling him of Psyche, ordered her revenge.  "My dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give your mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation and triumph."

Obediently, Cupid set to his task.  In the garden of Venus lay two fountains, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter.  Cupid filled two amber phials, one from each fountain and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, finding her asleep.  He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips and although though the sight of her moved him almost to pity, touched her side with the point of his arrow.  At the touch she awoke and her eyes gazed upon the invisible Cupid which so enchanted him he became confused and pricked himself with his own arrow.  Helplessly in love, his only thought now was to repair the mischief he had done and he poured the balmy drops of joy over all her silken blonde ringlets.

Psyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, gained no benefit from her charms.  While all cast covetous eyes upon her and all spoke her praises, not prince, plebeian or peasant ever asked for her hand in marriage.  Her two sisters had become betrothed to princes but Psyche sat in solitude, feeling cursed by the beauty which had failed to awaken love.  The king and queen, thinking they had incurred the wrath of the gods turned for guidance to the oracle of Apollo who answered: “The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. Her future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist."

Her parents, distraught, abandoned themselves to grief but Psyche was fatalistic, saying "Why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? You should rather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a Venus. I now perceive I am victim to that name.  I submit.  Lead me to that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me."  Accordingly, amid the lamentations of all, she was taken to the peak of the mountain and there left alone.  When the tearful girl stood at the summit, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the earth and carried her on the breeze, bringing her to rest in a flowery dale where she laid down to sleep.  When she awoke, refreshed, she looked around and beheld nearby a grove of tall and stately trees.  Entering the forest, she discovered in its midst a fountain from which bubbled crystal-clear waters and nearby, a splendid palace, so magnificent she knew it the work not of mortal hands, but the retreat of some god.  Drawn by admiration and wonder, she ventured to enter the door.  Amazed at what she saw, she walked along a marble floor so polished it shimmered, golden pillars supported a vaulted roof, walls were enriched with carvings and paintings of fantastic beasts.  Everything upon which her eye fell delighted her.

Soon, although she saw no one, she heard a voice.  "Sovereign lady, all that you see is yours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your commands with utmost care.  Retire, should you please, to your chamber, recline upon your bed of down and when you see fit, repair to the bath.  Your supper awaits in the alcove”.  Psyche took her bath and seated herself in the alcove, whereupon a table appeared laden with extraordinary delicacies of food and nectarous wines.   While she ate, she heard the playing of lute and harp and the harmony of song.

That night she met he husband but he came only in the darkness, fleeing before the dawn, but his words and caresses were of love and inspired in her a like passion.  Often she would beg him to stay so she might behold him in the light but he refused, telling her never to attempt to see him, for no good would come of it and that he would rather have her love him as a man than adore him as a god.  This, Psyche accepted but the days grew long and lonely and she began to feel she was living in a gilded cage.  One night, when her husband came, she told him of her distress, her charms enough to coax from him his unwilling acquiescence that her sisters could visit.  Delighted, she summoned the obedient Zephyr who brought them to the mountain and in happiness, they embraced.

The splendor and celestial delights of Psyche’s palace astonished her sisters but also aroused their envy and they began to pepper her with questions about her husband and she told them he was a beautiful youth who spent his days hunting in the mountains.  Unconvinced, the soon drew from her that she had never seen him and they began to fill her mind with dark suspicions, recalling the Pythian oracle had declared her doomed to marry a direful and tremendous monster.  Psyche protested but they told her the folk living in the valley say the husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, amusing himself while nourishing her with dainties that he may by and by devour her.  They told to one night to take with her a lamp and sharp blade so that when he slept she might light the lamp and see his true form.  If truly he is a monster they told her, "hesitate not and cut off its head".

Psyche tried to resist her sisters’ persuasions but knew she was curious and that night she took to bed a lamp and a long, sharp knife.  When he had fallen to sleep, silently she arose and lit her lamp, beholding but the most beautiful of the gods, his golden ringlets falling over his snowy neck, two dewy wings on his shoulders whiter than snow, with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring.  Entranced, as she moved her lamp better to see his face, a drop of hot oil fell on the shoulder of the god and startled, he opened his eyes and fixed them upon her.  They both were frozen for a few seconds, then suddenly and without a word, he spread his wings and flew out of the window.  Psyche, crying in despair, in vain endeavored to follow but fell from the window to the ground below.

Hearing her fall, Cupid for a moment paused in his flight and turned to her saying, "Oh faithless Psyche, is it thus you repay my love? After I disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and would cut off my head?  Go, return to your sisters, who you trust more than me.  I punish you no more than to forever leave you for love cannot dwell with suspicion."  With those words, he flew off, leaving poor Psyche crying into the earth.  For hours she sobbed and then looked around, but her palace and gardens had vanished and she found herself in a field in the city where her sisters dwelt.  She repaired thither and told them her story at which, though pretending to grieve with her, the two evil sisters inwardly rejoiced for both thought as one: that Cupid might now choose one of them.  Both the next morning silently arose and snuck secretly to the mountain where each called upon Zephyr to bear them to his lord but leaping up, there was no Zephyr to carry them on the breeze and each fell down the precipice to their deaths.

The devastated Psyche meanwhile wandered.  Day and night, without food or rest, she searched for her husband and one evening saw in the distance a magnificent temple atop a lofty mountain and she felt her heart beat, wondering if perhaps there was Cupid.  She walked to the temple and there saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in sheaves, mingled with ears of barley.  Scattered about, lay sickles and rakes, the instruments of harvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly from the weary reapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day.  This unseemly confusion disturbed the neat and tidy Psyche and she put herself to work, separating and sorting everything and putting all in its proper place, believing she ought to neglect none of the gods, but prove by her piety to prove she was worthy of their help.  The holy Ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus spoke to her, "Oh Psyche, truly your are worthy of our pity, though I cannot shield you from the frowns of Venus, I can teach you how best to allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender yourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband you have lost."  Filled with both fear and hope, Psyche made her way to the temple of Venus.

Venus met her with anger.  "Most undutiful and faithless of servants," said she, "do you at last remember you have a mistress or have you come to see your sick husband, the one injured by the wound given him by his worthless wife?  You are so ill favored you can be worthy of your lover only by showing industry and diligence.  I shall put you to work".  She led Psyche to temple’s storehouse in which sat vast piles of wheat, barley, vetches, beans and lentils, the food for her birds.  “Separate these grains, put them all in sacks and have it done by night” she commanded, leaving her to the task.  Shocked, Psyche sat silent, moving not a finger.  While she despaired, Cupid ordered an ant, a native of the fields, to bring all ants from the anthill and they gathered on the piles.  Quickly and with the efficiency of their breed, they took grain by grain, making perfect parcels of each and when done, vanished from sight.  As twilight fell, Venus returned from a banquet of the gods and seeing the sacks neatly stacked, became enraged.  "This is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed."  So saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and stormed off.

Next morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her, "Behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water.  There you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces on their backs.  Go now, fetch me some of that precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces."  Standing on the riverbank, wondering at the difficulty of her task, Psyche was about to cross but river god made the reeds speak, telling her "Oh maiden, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among those rams for as long as the sun shines, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth.  But when the noontide sun has driven them to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees."  Psyche did as they said and returned with her arms full of the golden fleece but Venus was not pleased.  "Well I know it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded I do not believe you are of use but I have another task for you.  Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to Proserpine and say, 'my mistress Venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own'.  Be not too long on your errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear this evening at the circle of the gods."

Psyche now believed her own destruction was at hand and, with no wish to delay what was not to be avoided, dashed to the top of a high tower, preparing to cast herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the shades below.  But then, a voice from the tower said to her, "Why, poor unlucky girl, do you design to put an end to your days in so dreadful a manner? And what cowardice makes you sink under this last danger when you have been so miraculously supported in all your former?"  Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the three-headed dog, and prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river and bring her back again. But the voice also cautioned, "When Proserpine has given you the box filled with her beauty, you must never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses."

Encouraged, Psyche obeyed the advice and travelled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. Admitted to the palace of Proserpine, she delivered her message from Venus and soon, she was handed the box, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, glad once more to be in the light of day.  But as she walked along the path, a longing desire overcame her, an urge to look into the box for, as she imagined, a touch of the divine beauty would make her more desired by Cupid so, delicately, she opened the box.  But in there was nothing of beauty but only an infernal and truly Stygian sleep which, being set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell in the road where she stood, plunged into a deep sleep, lying there without sense or motion.

But Cupid was now recovered and could no longer bear the absence of his beloved Psyche and slipping through a crack in the window, he flew to where Psyche lay.  He gathered up the sleep from her and closed it again in the box, waking her with the gentlest touch of one of his arrows. "Again," said he, "have you almost perished by the same curiosity.  But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest."  Then Cupid, as swift as lightning, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication.  Jupiter was impressed and so earnestly did he plead the cause of the lovers that he won the consent of Venus and on hearing this, sent Mercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, he handed her a goblet ambrosia saying, "Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual."  Thus Psyche became at last united to Cupid, and in time, born to them was a daughter whose name was Pleasure.

Wedding Banquet of Cupid and Psyche (circa 1517) by Raphael (1483–1520).

The story of Cupid and the OCD Psyche is told by the Roman writer Apuleius (circa 124-circa 170) in three chapters in his rather risqué picaresque novel, The Metamorphoses of Apuleius (which Saint Augustine dubbed Asinus aureus (The Golden Ass (by which it’s today known)).  The Golden Ass is notable as the only full-length work of fiction in Classical Latin to have survived in its entirety and is a work with aspects which would be regarded as novel centuries later, including fantastical imagery, passages like fairy tales and elements which would now be called magic realism.  Like many modern fairy tales, there is a moral to the story and for Apuleius it was that it is love which makes to soul immortal and there was no need for subtlety, Cupid the son of the goddess of desire and Psyche's name originally meant soul.

With the re-discovery (and some re-invention) of much of antiquity during the Renaissance, the story gained much popularity and attracted the interest of artists and from Raphael’s (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, 1483–1520) studio came the best known evocation.  One of the scenes is the wedding feast, painted in the form of a hanging tapestry.  Psyche’s guest list was a roll-call of the gods, Ganymede, Apollo, Bacchus and Jupiter are all at the table, the Graces and the Hours in attendance.  The artists (for some the work was executed by professional painters under Raphael’s guidance) do have some fun, very much in the spirit of Apuleius for above the flying Mercury sits, artfully arranged, a suggestive conjunction of certain vegetables and fruits.

The Wedding Feast of Cupid and Psyche (1532) by Giulio Romano.

The romance of Cupid and Psyche drew other artists including the Italian Giulio Romano (Giulio Pippi, circa 1499-1546), a student of Raphael whose influence permeates.  While not highly regarded by critics and better remembered as an architect, Romano is of note because he was among the earliest of the artists whose work can be called Mannerist and certainly his wedding feast painting includes the mythological, a staged and theatrical setting, eroticism and an unusual sense of perspective; all characteristic of Mannerist art although he remained entirely naturalistic in the callipygian rendering of Psyche’s buttocks.

In Shakespeare's late drama The Winter's Tale there’s an allusion to Romano as “that rare Italian master” but despite the bard’s apparent admiration, historians of art treat him as little more than a footnote; the shadow Raphael cast was long.  Some critics seem determined to devalue his work, the Catholic Encyclopaedia (1913) noting it was “prolific and workmanlike, always competent…” but with “…no originality; as a painter, he is merely a temperament, a prodigious worker. His manual dexterity is unaccompanied by any greatness of conception or high moral principle.  His lively but superficial fancy, incapable of deep emotion, of religious feeling, or even of observation, attracted him to neutral subjects, to mythological paintings, and imaginary scenes from the world of fable. Therein under the cloak of humanism, he gave expression to a sensualism rather libertine than poetical, an epicureanism unredeemed by any elevated or noble quality.  It is this which wins for Giulio his distinctive place in art.  His conception of form was never quite original; it was always a clever and bookish compromise between Raphael and Michelangelo.  His sense of color grows ever louder and uglier, his ideas are void of finesse, whatever brilliancy they show is second-hand. His single distinctive characteristic is the doubtful ease with which he played with the commonplaces of pagandom.  In this respect at least, paintings like those of the Hall of Psyche (1532) are historical landmarks.  It is the first time that an appeal is made to the senses with all the brutal frankness of a modern work”. 

Damning with faint praise perhaps.  Grudgingly, the editors did concede that despite being “…distinguished by such characteristics and marked by such defects, Romano occupies nevertheless an important place in the history of art. More than any other, he aided in propagating the pseudo-classical, half-pagan style of art so fashionable during the seventeenth century. It’s mainly through his influence that after the year 1600 we find so few religious painters in Europe”.

One could hardly expect The Catholic Encyclopedia (sub-titled An International work of reference on the constitution, doctrine, discipline and history of the Catholic Church), to find much worthy in a mannerist (or perhaps anything modern).  Mannerism, novel in some ways as it was, was rarely original in form or content.  It was a reaction against the perceived perfection of the neo-classicism of the High Renaissance and artists from Romano on were drawn to Greek mythology, characters like Psyche and Echo able simply and unambiguously to represent the psychological problems muddied by Christian theology.

Dragoon

Dragoon (pronounced druh-goon)

(1) In historic weaponry, a synonym of dragon (a type of musket with a short, large-calibre barrel and a flared muzzle), the name based on the way the mythical dragons belched fire.

(2) A European cavalryman of a heavily armed troop (mostly obsolete although some historic associations remain in military formations); historically an infantryman armed with a dragoon musket who fought both on horseback and on foot.

(3) A member of a military unit with such traditions (now mostly restricted to the British Army).

(4) A domestic fancy pigeon (originally a cross between a horseman and a tumbler and sometimes with initial capital).

(5) In the history of France, to subject a Huguenot to the dragonnades (a late seventeenth century policy instituted by Louis XIV of France to intimidate Protestant Huguenots to convert to Roman Catholicism by billeting dragoons in their homes to abuse them and destroy or steal their possessions).

(6) By extension, a man with a fierce or unrefined manner (historically thought “dragoon-like”) (now rare).

(7) By extension, (usually as “dragoon into”) to force (someone) into doing something through harassment and intimidation; to coerce; to force by oppressive measures.

(8) Following the use in France, the practice of forcing civilians into military service (applied particularly to Royal Navy press-gangs until 1815 although it was not an unknown form of “recruitment” by the army).

1615-1625 (some sources noting it appeared in military firearms manuals as early as 1804 but general use was at least a decade hence): From the French dragon (dragon (mythological creature); type of cavalry soldier, dragoon), the latter referring to a soldier armed with the firearm of the same name although in the context of ballistics the word dragoon was originally applied to the pistol hammer (the use based on the shape).  The ultimate source was the Latin dracō (dragon; kind of serpent or snake), from the Ancient Greek δρᾰ́κων (drákōn) which may have been from δέρκομαι (dérkomai) (to see, clearly to see (in the sense of something staring)), from the primitive Indo-European derḱ- (to see).  The verb use was derived from the noun, from the French dragooner, originally in the sense of “to force someone into doing something; to coerce; to torment (also “to torment one’s self)), the construct being dragon + -er (the suffix forming infinitives of first-conjugation verbs).  Dragoon is a noun & verb, dragooner dragoonage, dragoonable & dragonnade are nouns and dragooned & dragooning are verbs; the noun plural is dragoons.  The adjectives dragonish & dragoonesque are non-standard.

Louis XIV, the Huguenots and dragoonnades

The noun use of “dragoon” describing both musket and the soldiers who carried them had been in use for some six decades before becoming a verb.  In 1685, Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715) issued the Edict of Nantes which revoked his grandfathers decree of toleration which had granted social and economic rights to the minority Huguenot population, something which had far-reaching adverse consequences for France but which was at the time widely popular and still so judging the fawning obituaries which appeared thirty years later at the king’s funeral.  More realistic was Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet; 1694–1778), a fair judge of the rule of the Bourbons who called the edict: “…one of the greatest calamities of France…” with consequences “…wholly contrary to the purpose in view.”

British Army Dragoons always had famously good hats, sometimes in designer colors.

The enmity towards the Huguenots (then some 10% of the French population) was based on factors familiar in pogroms over the centuries: a hard-working minority whose success manifested in their wealth and domination of some business sectors.  Religious intolerance was of course also an element and with pro-Catholic winds blowing in England, Louis decided it was time for him to assert himself in his tiresome squabble with Innocent XI (1611-1689; pope 1676-1689) and “...show himself the champion of orthodoxy, reaffirming the ancient French title of ‘Most Christian King’”.  The renewed persecution had actually begun a few years earlier with church services banned, denominational schools closed and the increasing exclusion from economic activity enforced but just as similar moves by the Nazis against the Jews of Germany would assume their own social inertia and lead to Kristallnacht (literally "crystal night" but better remembered as the "Night of Broken Glass" on 9–10 November 1938) the crackdown in seventeenth century France engendered its own increasing violent brutality.

British Army Corporal of the 2nd Dragoons in full-dress uniform with bearskin hat, circa 1900.

With the personal approval of the king himself, the policy of dragoonnades (the force billeting of Dragoons with Huguenot families) was adopted which would have been bad enough but the Dragoons, an anyway rough and undisciplined crew, were encouraged to behave as viciously as they wished.  Needing little encouragement, assault, rape and vandalism was soon widespread, the point of the policy being (1) to force the Huguenots to leave the country or (1) accept the offer of exemption from billeting on condition of a family converting to Catholicism.  Under the circumstances, few Catholics regarded such conversions as sincere and on doctrinal grounds resented the approach because it implicated the Church in what could be called only sacrilege and perjury.  In 1685, in a masterpiece of Bourbon logic, after hearing of the conversion of some 65,000 over three days in one province alone, Louis revoked the Edict of Nantes on the grounds it was superfluous because there were “no more Huguenots”.

Keeping alive the traditions of the Dragoons’ hats: Lindsay Lohan in Falling for Christmas (Netflix, 2022).

Quite how many Huguenot souls emigrated to Protestant or other more tolerant lands isn’t known but no estimate places the number at less than 100,000.  Those who departed took with them their skills as engineers, artisans, builders, glass makers, shipwrights and a host of other trades, all of which would be now be classified as “dual use” in the sense that they could be applied to civilian or military purposes.  Additionally, some of those leaving were merchants, bookkeepers, lawyers, doctors and other with internationally sought-after skills, the multiplier effect being that the loss to the French economy was to the gain of her enemies including England, Holland and the German states.  In England particularly, the Royal Navy gained much in metallurgy and ship-building skills and as an aside, the arrival of the Huguenots there lead directly to the country switching from wood to coal as a source of thermal energy because, as the new arrivals set up their forges, furnaces and kilns, the depletion of the forests was soon recognized as a threat.  The coal powered economy would provide a platform on which the industrial revolution was built and was the basis of the energy supply for three centuries.

Historians have differed on the extent of the damage all this caused the French economy and military although there does seem to be a consensus most of the early estimates were exaggerated (especially those published in English) but losses to both there were and, as earlier mentioned, this was suffered in conjunction with those of her enemies being afforced.  Of the political damage however there is no doubt, the persecution of the Huguenots assisting the formation of a Protestant coalition between several German states & principalities, Holland and those Huguenots who remained in France, mostly in isolated or mountainous regions, something which some historians maintain was an important component in the forces which over a century would accumulate until unleashed in the violence of the French Revolution (1789).