Castle Vaduz, Liechtenstein (Photo in public domain)

By A.C. Williams - 

The feudal age of castles is well represented in the Rhine Valley in Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and Austria.  Scattered throughout the mountainous terrain and usually near the base of these ranges are numerous remains of the castles and forts that once ruled and dictated this Alpine passage through the upper Rhine region. Three castles still standing and preserved to their medieval form in the valley are the Schloss Werdenberg, Schloss Vaduz and Schloss Schattenburg (schloss is German for “castle”). Almost directly across from each other, Schloss Werdenberg is perched above the Swiss side of the Rhine River and Schloss Vaduz presides over the Liechtenstein capital of Vaduz, on the Liechtenstein side of the Rhine River. Above the Ill River, Schattenburg sits atop a hill overlooking the Austrian city of Felkirch, situated also on the eastern side of the river. Although now in different countries, the histories of these three castles are intertwined.

Werdenberg Castle (Photo: A.C. Williams, 2011)

In the Middle Ages, Werdenberg was a county of the Holy Roman Empire which was situated on either side of the Rhine, including parts of what now consists of the Canton of St. Gallen in Switzerland, Liechtenstein and Vorarlberg in Austria.  The Werdenberg Castle, from which the county was named, is located today in the small municipality of  Werdenberg in St. Gallen, the town also named after the castle. It is at this moment in time that our story begins, when each of the castles were constructed.

Schloss Werdenberg, from the north (Photo: P. Hunt, 2012)

Although the exact construction date of the Schloss Werdenberg is unknown, the Bergfried, or the Keep as it is known in English, dates prior to 1228. The Keep´s slightly trapezoidal floor plan measures approximately 11 meters around the exterior of the tower and is consistently two feet thick. By 1228 the inner wall of the castle was constructed and building flourished until 1695, at which point the castle suffered from a kitchen fire. The castle was reconstructed and then set up as a private resident in the eighteenth century but faced many looters and frequently changing or tangled ownership. In 1835 the Hilty family acquired the castle and it remained in the family until 1956, when Ms. Freida Hilty, the last remaining heir, left it to the Canton of St. Gallen. Very few details of the castle´s history are known; however, a recent research project has been commissioned by the Office of Historic Buildings of Winterthur which promises to be fruitful. Despite the fact that very little is known, this castle is a prominent landmark to this day to locals and passer-byers alike. It is a picturesque jewel perched atop the historic town of Werdenberg, the oldest timber-frame settlement in Switzerland.

Schattenburg Castle (Photo courtesy of Chris Norden)

The Schloss Vaduz, then known as Farduzes, was mentioned in the deed of the Count Rudolf von Werdenberg-Sargans sale to Ulrich von Matsch in twelfth century manuscripts. The owners and builders of the castle were the Counts of Werdenberg-Sargans (there is another family castle south in Sargans). The oldest parts of the Castle Vaduz  are the Keep and sections of the east side of the building which date to the twelfth century. The Keep measures approximately 12 x 13 meters and has a wall density on the ground floor of up to 4 meters. This castle also faced a large fire in 1499 during the Schwaben War, also known as the Schweizerkrieg or the Swiss War, which was the last major armed conflict between the Old Swiss Confederacy and the House of Habsburg (from which part of my family distantly descends). By the seventeenth century, the Liechtenstein family  was attempting to obtain a seat in the Imperial Diet, the Reichstag.

Schloss Schattenburg above Feldkirch (Photo P. Hunt, 2012)

In order to do so, the family acquired Vaduz Castle in 1712 when they purchased the countship of Vaduz. Coincidentally, Charles VI, Holy Roman Emperor, combined the countship of Vaduz with the nearby Lordship of Schellenberg, also purchased by the family in 1699, which together formed the Principality of Liechtenstein. The castle remains to this day as the primary residence of Liechtenstein´s Royal Family. The castle has undergone major restorations from 1905 to 1920, was expanded in the 1930s, and then restored again in the early 2000s.

Interior Courtyard of Schattenburg Castle (Photo: A.C. Williams, 2011)

Not far north from these Swiss and Liechtenstein castles is the comparable Schloss Schattenburg in Feldkirch, gateway to Austria’s westernmost Vorarlberg province. Schattenburg was built by Count Hugo I von Montfort, also the founder of Feldkirch, in approximately 1200 to similarly secure the traffic passing through the nearby mountain routes.

Montfort Arms in Rittersaal, Schattenburg (Photo: A. C. Williams, 2011)

The 21-meter battlements, the keep, moats, drawbridges, and thick walls, were the first to be constructed. It served as the family seat of the Earls of Montfort-Feldkirch until 1390, at which point it was the Habsburg´s fortress for their bailiffs. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the castle started to dilapidate and was consistently up for auction. The town of Feldkirch bought the castle in 1825 for 833 guilders and used the structure as barracks and then as a factory workhouse. The Feldkirch and District´s Museum and Folklore Preservation Society, founded in 1912, was then able to restore the castle to its original stature.  The interior courtyard of the Schattenburg keep is easily visited with its restored wooden battlements and half-timbered buildings added on since the thirteenth century. Leaded windows and heraldic devices are painted on the inner walls of the old hunting hall, actually a ‘Knights Room’ (Rittersaal) also now housing a popular restaurant – highly regarded for its many types of tasty schnitzel which this author can verify from various festive occasions – along with a cellar (Burgkeller) and the castle’s museum.

These three picturesque upper Rhine castles all date originally from the twelfth to thirteenth centuries – the great age of castle building – in the mostly square conservative style of towers even though the Crusades introduced Europeans to the more easily defendable round towers of Saracen forts. They may also demonstrate that guarding the Rhine River valley wasn’t just a defensive proposition: they also likely demanded tariffs from travelers and merchants passing through their domains, thus giving a new meaning to robber barons. Fortunately, these three castles have withstood the test of time and a visit to each of them is highly recommended for an exciting glimpse into medieval life.

Liechtenstein Stamps with Castle Vaduz (Photo in public domain)

Sources:

Gerhard Köbler, ‘Werdenberg (Grafschaft)’, in: Historisches Lexikon der deutschen Länder. Die deutschen Territorien vom Mittelalter bis zur Gegenwart 2nd edition Munich 1989.

Schlossgeschichte. Retrieved January 5, 2012, from http://www.geschichte.schloss-werdenberg.ch/Schlossgeschichte/BaugeschichtlicheUntersuchungen/tabid/240/Default.aspx

Göbekli Tepe, Turkey, (photo Vincent Musi for National Geographic, 2011)

By  Ömer Bülent Sever

Göbekli Tepe (“Stomach Hill“ in Turkish) is a unique archaeological site, a Stone Age sanctuary beneath massive sediments on a hill at about 750 meters (2460 ft.) above sea level and about 15  kilometers (9.5  miles) northeast of the city of Şanliurfa (Urfa / Edessa) in southeastern Turkey (also long known as the region of Anatolia). Its monolithic stone pillars that stand up to 18 feet hight cannot fail to impress modern viewers, especially since they have only emerged upright from under about six meters of overburden in the last decade or so after being buried about 10,000 years.

Göbekli Tepe site near Sanliurfa (Urfa) Southeastern Turkey (by courtesy of Northwestern University)

The fact that the complex had remained almost untouched since the Stone Age is partly due to the fact that it is located at relatively high altitude. Dating from the period of the tenth and ninth millennia BCE, it is more than six thousand years older than the prehistoric site of Stonehenge in southern England and remained unexplored until recent digs. It also predates Çatalhöyük, another Turkish Neolithic site by several millennia.

Like numerous Neolithic settlements located in valleys with access to water and the prerequisites for agriculture, Göbekli Tepe dominates the landscape. A stunning panorama presents itself to the visitor from the highest point of the mound where local women frequent the site known as the hill of ritual with its wishing tree. To the west, the city of Şanliurfa is only slightly obstructed by the Germuş Mountains. To the north, if the weather is clear, you are able to see the eastern part of the Taurus mountain range. An old volcano, Karacadağ, looms in the east, and to the south the fertile plain of Harran extends as far as Syria. No doubt, the complex of Göbekli Tepe must have been designed to be a widely visible landmark.

The site was discovered in 1963, when a joint Turkish-American research team (Istanbul University and University of Chicago) conducted a field study in the area but were unable to recognize the real significance of the site. At that time research was not advanced enough to enable an accurate assessment of the discovery. As it seems, nobody associated the archaeological remains with a potential Stone Age ritual site. It was not until 1994 that some of the greater importance of the site was recognized. Since 1995 annual excavations have been carried out directed by the German archaeologist Klaus Schmidt under the auspices of the German Archaeological Institute (DAI), funded by the German Research Foundation (DFG) and initially in cooperation with the Museum of Şanliurfa. [1]

Pillar 12, 1.4 m height, with animal reliefs, limestone, German Archaeological Institute (DAI) by permission via author

Recently, the full significance of the site’s Neolithic monumentalism has brought it to the fore of the eariest sites in the world. The stone monoliths of the sanctuary have been interpreted by many historians and archaeologists as the oldest surviving temple in the world. The excavation site presents itself as a homogenous ensemble with relics of Stone Age activities (e.g. quarrying), not only to be found at the actual sanctuary, but also in the limestone plateau surrounding the mound. This has inspired plans to create a public archaeological park in the immediate environs of the excavation area and a roof to protect it. Construction work for this project will be carried out simultaneously with the digs.

A brief chronological outline of Göbekli Tepe shows ist great antiquity. Elsewhere, the existence of a Pre Pottery Neolithic (PPN) phase in which pottery was not yet in use (approximately 10,000-6,500 BCE) was revealed by Kathleen Kenyon’s excavations at Tell-es-Sultan (Jericho) in the Jordan River Valley of Palestine. Evidence for such an early Neolithic phase was found in the Middle East and Anatolia has been backed up for the past 40-50 years by valuable in-depth information retrieved from further excavations and other archaeological activities. PPN or Pre-Pottery Neolithic, with which Göbekli Tepe is associated, is commonly sub-classified in phases A (earliest phase), B and, in parts, C. Pre-Pottery Neolithic is followed by the Ceramic Neolithic, a period in which the distinctive neolithic characteristics such as sedentariness, agriculture, animal husbandry and pottery are fully developed.

Tools made of flint and bone, as well as millstone grinders and stone vessels, all of them representative of a PPN (Pre-Pottery Neolithic) site, are the essential finds of the material culture of Göbekli Tepe. Yet, the most noteworthy legacy of Göbekli Tepe is its spectacular stone circles consisting of a set of monolithic T-shaped pillars which measure up to five meters in height. Until a few years ago, excavations focussed primarily on four of the monumental stone circles which have been dated into the tenth millenium BCE. Until now two Stone Age archaeological levels have been uncovered: Stratum III (9,600-8,800 BCE) and Stratum II (8,800-8,000 BCE). Recently digs and other research projects have been extended to the southwestern and northern hills, with unique results.

The determining feature of the older archaeological level, Stratum III, is its T-shaped pillars. Up to five meters in height and weighing tons, they are arranged in circle-like or rather oval shapes around two particularly large central pillars and integrated into walls encompassing the ensemble while shutting it off from its surroundings, thus creating an interior space. All pillars face the two pillars in the center of the circle. It seems obvious that the duality of the central pillars was of special significance. However, it is essential that they be investigated in more detail. The fact that depictions of arms can be seen embracing the pillars suggests that the pillars represent anthropomorphous beings. The upper horizontal element of the T-shape might be interepreted as a head, and the long, vertical element as a body. Enclosures A, B, C, and D are ascribed to this phase.

Pillar 9 with animal reliefs, limestone, German Archaeological Institute (DAI) by permission via author

Enclosure C, measuring 30 meters in diameter with its four concentrically arranged wall shells and with an inner diameter of twelve meters, is poorly preserved. The damage on the two central pillars may have been the work of early iconoclasts after digging a large pit. The demolition work done in enclosure C roughly dates, at the latest, to the period after PPN (Pre-Pottery Neolithic). One of the central pillars was recently partly restored and re-erected. In enclosure C, the dominant motif is the wild boars, while foxes prevail on the central pillars. Pillar 27 is carved with a naturalistic representation of a snarling beast of prey with ist distinctive ribs in high relief.

Enclosure D is the best preserved part of the complex. The two central pillars, measuring more than five meters in height, surmount the pillars in the surrounding circle by more than one meter. Here too, the pillars are decorated with bas-reliefs of animal motifs reminescent of the entire livestock of a zoological garden, including wild asses, gazelles, foxes, wild boars, sheep, bulls, vultures, ibises, ducks, cranes, spiders, snakes, and scorpions. While many of the animals are depicted in independant entities, some do interact. In addition, there are two parallel bands in bas-relief on the front sides of several pillars which are interpreted as garments resembling a priestly stole. Other reliefs represent abstract symbols which have been described as “hieroglyphic mythograms“ and may be regarded as storage media of the cultural memory of the Stone Age. Whether the represented imagery should be seen as attributes of the respective pillar beings or rather as a coherent sequence of pictures conveying a story, or perhaps a myth, is an unanswered question which requires further research.

All the T-pillars are monolithic, i.e., made from one piece. Some of them, among others the central pillars of enclosure D, have arms and hands carved into the broad sides of their shafts. The cubically reduced shape and the absence of anatomical details seem to carry information yet to be deciphered, and the most recent dig seasons brought to light further interesting and unique symbols on the T-pillars, which are currently under scientific investigation. The more or less naturalistic sculptures of animals and human beings dating from the tenth millenium BCE give ample evidence of the skills humans possessed back then. Were the stone pillars meant to represent their ancestors or other important humans? Did they portend to a gathering of gods or other beings? Whatever they were meant to represent, they must have played an essential role in the events taking place at Göbekli Tepe.

The enclosures also contain large-sized limestone sculptures. In this group, wild and dangerous animals prevail, several of them snarling. Could they have been the guardians of Göbekli Tepe? Not all of the animals depicted can be reliably identified, although none of them shows signs of deviations from the animals known to us. They are protagonists of the stories recorded in the imagery and seem to populate a mythological cosmos. Finds of fauna remains secured at Göbekli Tepe bear testimony to a wide range of wildlife, but have not rendered any evidence of animal domestication so far. Neither do the botanical remains support the existence of domesticated crops.

The younger Stratum II, dated to the middle PPNB (Pre-Pottery Neolithic B period) in the ninth millenium BCE, holds rectangular buildings without doors and windows, measuring four to six meters in length and three to four meters in width. Its pillars are less in number and shorter, compared to previous levels, measuring only 1.5 meters (5 ft.)  in height. Here it is mostly the detached pair of central pillars that have outlasted time. The “lion column building“ is the outstanding structure of Stratum II, a rectangular complex with reliefs of felines on pillars I and II, possibly lions or leopards, in keeping up with the archaeofauna of the area. Between the “lion columns“, the only representation of a woman so far has been found, a drawing of a crouching female figure, engraved in a stone plate, possibly a bench top. Since no evidence for the cult of the “Great Goddess“ has been verified at Göbekli Tepe, the figure has not been interpreted as a representation of the “Great Goddess“, and there is no indication that such a cult existed in the mythological cosmos of the time.

Pillar 2 with animal reliefs, limestone, German Archaeological Institute (DAI) 1999, by permission via author

Due to the size of the investigated area, it is only possible to briefly touch on some of the findings and research results in this article. In enclosure E, there is, for example, a “rock temple“ which is associated with other monumental ancient complexes, possibly pertaining to a stone circle that had been taken down such that nothing from it has survived.

An area named “the studio“ was apparently once used for the production of limestone sculptures. On the plateau further west we find “the quarry“ for megalithic stone tool pieces, on the southern plateau the “Roman Watchtower“ with traces of architecture from a later period, possibly Roman. A link to the Roman Euphrates-Limes (boundary) is possible.

Geophysical studies showed that Göbekli Tepe holds in Stratum III at least 20 more monumental enclosures and an even larger number of buildings yet to be unearthed. It is important to point out that the mound was created when, still in the Stone Age, the complex was gradually filled or “buried“ which resulted in an artificial hill. Whether Göbekli Tepe served as the setting for a wide geographical cult of the dead – possiby for nomadic peoples [2] - remains one of the unanswered questions about the site.

The Stone Age sanctuary of Göbekli Tepe is associated with the performance of ritual practices. While the nature and form of those practices have yet to be clarified, it is undisputable that the monuments provide evidence of a society with a highly advanced organizational structure and astounding community accomplishments of raising stone monuments, which for the time frame in question were unthinkable before the discovery of the site.

Göbekli Tepe was not a location where normal daily life would seem to have taken place. Seemingly only used for cults and rituals, it is unlikely that it was permanently inhabited by a significant number of residents. However, it is assumed that it was perennially attended by some kind of cult staff. No living quarters have been found so far. They might have been situated between units not directly associated with the ritual facilities.

Göbekli Tepe was a phenomenon pertaining to the final phase of the old world of hunters and gatherers, on the eve of the so-called Neolithic Revolution. Around 8,800 BCE, the utilization of the site came to an end in Stratum II and was abandoned. Once buried, itself a long process, the complex sank quickly into oblivion. Since it was not reoccupied, it has for the most part been spared from human activity until its recent discovery. It surely possesses a great many secrets waiting to be revealed. One of the most interesting recent theories is that the very urge to worship may have sparked institutional religion itself in such places as Göbekli Tepe. [3]

Ömer Bülent Sever, author of the article, is a lawyer from Istanbul who in his thirties decided to take up the study of archaeology in Erlangen, Germany. He has had the pleasure to participate in several excavation campaigns at Göbekli Tepe directed by Klaus Schmidt. 

by A. C. Williams

Library of St. Gall (CC-BY-SA-3.0 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0)

The Abbey Library of Saint Gall, known as the Stiftsbibliothek of St. Gallen, is one of the oldest and most illustrious libraries in the world. The Stiftsbibliothek and surrounding St. Gall Abbey precinct have together served for centuries as one of the leading cultural centers in the Western world, now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In the picturesque city of St. Gallen (Sankt Gallen), Switzerland, in the canton of the same name near the Appenzell at the foot of the Alps, the Abbey Library is a veritable treasure chest of preserved history. It is home to over 160,000 volumes of manuscripts, illuminated or otherwise, with many incunabula (texts before 1500) as well as early prints and books. The current library hall and surrounding Abbey of St. Gall were built between 1755 and 1767. Above the large Rococo entrance door into the library, an inscription in Greek reads Psyches iatreion, roughly translated as “Healing Place for the Soul”. This inscription alludes to the idea of an ancient healing site, such as the Aesculapion of Epidaurus in Greece, or the sacred library of the tomb complex of Ramses II in Thebes. [1] While now one mostly sees an eighteenth-century library, the collecting and scribing of manuscripts and books began almost a millennium earlier.

Around the year 612, the priest-monk Gallus (c. 560 – c. 650), retired from his travels with the Irish monk, Columbanus (540-615), and settled in the Steinach Valley near Lake Constance. There he built a hermit’s cell and oratory that later served as a meeting place for his growing band of disciples. Around 719, the Alemanni priest Othmar (c. 689 – c. 759) expanded the by now well-visited hermitage of Gallus (canonized as St. Gall) into the Abbey of St. Gall. By the request of Karlmann, Ruler of the Franks, in 747 the Abbey began to follow the Rule of St. Benedict and Othmar became the first abbot of St. Gall.[2]  He was later canonized as St. Othmar in 864.

Rococo Doors into Library with Inscription - Psyches iatreion - "Place For Healing of Souls" in Greek (photo A. Williams, 2011)

Books and literacy have always been central to the Abbey of St. Gall. Applied to the Abbey at the outset under the Benedictine Rule, every monk received the scriptures and was obligated to read them as regularly and as best as possible (as stipulated in the Benedictine Rule, Chapter 48, 15). In his bibliography on Charlemagne, Charlemagne: the Formation of a European Identity, R. McKitterick mentions “the remarkable archive efficiency of St. Gallen” in the ninth century. [3]  This period usually marks the terminus of the Dark Ages because of the Carolingian Renaissance, when, near-moribund literacy in Europe was being revived by Charlemagne’s sponsorship of new monasteries with scriptoria for manuscript production. But it is important to remind us that St. Gall was already thriving before Charlemagne. The presence of books, and the ability to read and write, was critical to this order and certainly contributed to the prolific collecting and producing of manuscripts at the Library of St. Gall. Preserving such a vast and richly unique collection of documents has long been the noble enterprise of the library that continues to the present.

Abbey Cathedral of St. Gall (photo A. Williams, 2011)

Examples of St. Gall’s scribal treasures include the oldest complete music manuscript in the world, the St. Gall Cantatorium, produced at the Abbey circa 920/930 (Manuscript 359), as well as the fourth to fifth century Vergilius Sangallensis (Manuscript 1394) containing Virgil’s Aeneid, Georgics, and Bucolics (Eclogues), [4] predating the monastery, and the illustrated travel journal of Georg Franz Müller (1646-1723) to the Far East (Manuscript 1311). [5]  Two vital Carolingian documents include Charlemagnic charters; one documents a gift to the priest Arnaud and another is the agreement between Abbot John of St. Gallen and Bishop Sidonius of Constance, “two of the very few royal diplomas from Alemannia as a whole before 814.” [6]   A famous discovery at the Abbey of St. Gall happened in 1416 when the important Italian Humanist Giovanni Poggio found a rewritten manuscript copy of a Roman text, Quintilian’s Institutio Oratorio (originally from the end of the first century). [7]  The abbey’s abundant collection of the past is endless with unique, historically important documents.

Dr. K. Schmuki with (Replica) Abbey plan in Library Hall (photo A. Williams, 2011)

Perhaps one of the most famous manuscript treasures currently here is the Plan of the Abbey of St. Gall. Noted Stiftsbibliothek librarian and scholar, Dr. Karl Schmuki, described to me that the Carolingian abbey plan (Manuscript 1092), “is the only one of its kind…it is not for another three hundred years that another monastic cathedral plan is known.” This ninth-century plan of the Abbey of St. Gall is the earliest and only surviving major architectural plan in Western history from the Carolingian period. Dating to possibly as early as 817, the document measures 112 by 77.5 centimeters and is constructed of five large pieces of sheepskin parchment  sewn together. [8]  The outlines of the fifty buildings in red Indian ink are labeled in Latin with black ink. Portrayed as an idyllic and symmetrical community for monastic living, it reflects an altogether perfect plan for a Benedictine monastery. The balanced structures of the cathedral, cloister, living quarters, refectory, infirmary, schoolrooms, stables, and lodging for guests, mirror the Benedictine notion of combining daily life and prayer. Although never fully realized, the significance of this plan is incredible. In addition to it being the only document of its kind, the plan clearly shows the importance of the monastery library, as its own building, immediately to the East of the Cathedral apse. Labeled in black ink, the Bibliotheca is a stand-alone structure, with a large library hall and a scriptorium for the scribes under the main level.

Image of Abbey Plan - replica enlarged on wall (photo A. Williams, 2011)

A surprising fact to many, the Abbey plan is also a prime example of one of the library’s many palimpsests. A palimpsest is a piece of parchment whose original text has been scraped off with chemicals or reused on the reverse due to the high cost of parchment or the lack of paper. [9]  Almost lost to time altogether, these pieces are particularly precious as words and images can barely be made out, or they are again, the only known examples of documents. Like the Rex palimpsestorum (Manuscript 908), a codex where the only existing prose of the fifth-century poet, Flavius Merobaudes, are slightly visible, Schmuki pointed out that “on the reverse of the Abbey plan, the History of the Life of St. Martin was written in the twelfth century. Although not erased, the History of the Life of St. Martin was more important than the monastery plan in the twelfth century.”

Enlarged Detail of Library in Abbey Plan (photo A. Williams, 2011)

Today, the Abbey plan of St. Gall is a window into a monastic world that was meticulously planned, although never fully realized. Yet it has preserved for us a slice of history into an ideal life regulated by order and the pursuit of knowledge. The Abbey plan is just one of the many treasures of our past that has been cared for over the centuries at the Stiftsbibliothek St. Gallen. It is no wonder that such a house of history is a place that heals the soul.

Sources:

B. Anderes, The Abbey of St. Gall, The Ancient Ecclesiastical Precinct, (St. Gallen,  2002).

L. Price, The Plan of St. Gall in brief, An overview based on the three-volume work by W. Horn and E. Born, (Berkeley, Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1982).

E. Tremp, J. Huber, K. Schmuki, The Abbey Library of Saint Gall, translated from German, J. Horelent, (St. Gallen, 2007) (original: Stiftsbibliothek St. Gallen. Ein Rundgang durch Geschichte , Räumlichkeiten und Sammlungen. St. Gallen: Verlag am Klosterhof, 2003)

Special thanks to Dr. K. Schmuki, Stiftsbibliothek Librarian, for his very informative interview and tour.

Notes:

[2]    E. Tremp, J. Huber, K. Schmuki, The Abbey Library of Saint Gall, translated from German, J. Horelent, (St. Gallen, 2007), 9.

[3]    R. McKitterick. Charlemagne: the Formation of a European Identity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008, 198.

[4]    K. Schmuki, P. Ochsenbein, C. Dora.  Cimelia Sangallensia: Hundert Kostarbeiten aus der Stiftsbibliothek St. Gallen. (St. Gallen: Verlag am Klosterhof, 1998).

[5]    Tremp, Huber, Schmuki,  74, 93, 106.

[6]    McKitterick, 198.

[7]    A. van der Kooij, K. van der Toorn, J. A. M. Snoek, (Leiden Institute for the Study of Religions). Canonization and Decanonization. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1998, 47.

[8]    Tremp, Huber,  Schmuki, 52.

[9]    R. Netz and W. Noel. The Archimedes Codex. New York: Da Capo/Perseus, 2007, 15 (definition of a palimpsest).

Three brothers, Danny, Ben and Sam Wood, search for archaeological traces of Hannibal, the Carthaginian warrior, as they cycle his two thousand mile trail from Spain to Tunisia, for a BBC Television documentary

On the Road, the Wood Brothers

We’d just finished riding up the Tourmalet,  known as one of the toughest Tour de France hill climbs – it would be more accurate to say I crawled up – when my youngest brother Sam made a prophetic suggestion.  “Why don’t we follow Hannibal’s trail on bicycles and make that into a TV documentary?”  Sam’s Hannibal idea seemed brilliant and preposterous at the same time.  Brilliant, because the three of us are ancient history nuts (Sam is also an archaeologist).  Preposterous, because it’s well known that Hannibal, one of the greatest military commanders of all time, led an army with nearly forty war elephants from Cartagena in the south of Spain, up the coast, over the Pyrenees mountains, through France, across the Rhone river, over Europe’s biggest mountain chain, the Alps, down Italy and finally back to his homeland, Carthage, now modern day Tunisia.   That’s more than two thousand miles of cycling and how were we supposed to get over the Alps on bicycles?  In your dreams mate.

Two years after our Pyrenees holiday, the dream was a reality.  We were in Cartagena, former capital of Carthage’s Spanish empire, ready to start filming with a BBC film crew.  The basic concept: ten weeks on the road telling two epic stories:  Hannibal’s war against ancient Rome mirrored by our cycling adventure.

Woods Brothers in the Alps - If Hannibal had a bike ...

The idea was to mimic Hannibal’s real life journey as much as we could so that our daily cycling became like Hannibal and his army enduring the privations of the forced march.  We’d carry all we needed like maps, clothes, cooking equipment and tents in our panniers on the bikes and apart from the filming, cycle about fifty miles a day.   We’d try and recreate the struggle of his river and mountain crossings on our bikes and stop in key places on his journey, like battlegrounds, ancient ruins and now modern towns, to tell the story of his invasion of Italy in 218 B.C.

During this pregnant pause I considered the parallels between us and Hannibal’s army.  Like his Numidian cavalry, who were regarded as the best in the ancient world, we were proud of what was between our legs: in our case, touring bikes.  Four panniers, or small suitcases, were fixed to the frames of each of our bicycles to carry clothes, cooking stuff, food and of course, copies of our two guidebooks, the accounts of Hannibal’s war against Rome written by the ancient authors Polybius and Livy.  They were a heavy load – about sixty pounds including the bike – and we discarded lots of clothes and books as the journey progressed.

Like Hannibal’s cavalry we were also surrounded by infantry.  About thirty Spaniards from the local Carthaginian Association were there on the port promenade to give us a send-off, dressed up like the ancient Iberian warriors (allies and mercenaries in Hannibal’s polyglot army) with shields, shiny helmets and impressive axes and broadswords.  They prepared to let out their bloodcurdling war cry and scream us out of town.

Before we left the city, we’d had a chance to roam around its archaeological sites.  However, the problem with Hannibal’s journey is that so far very little concrete archaeological evidence of his epic trip has been discovered.  In Cartagena, perhaps the most impressive direct link to Hannibal is the Punic Wall Museum that opened a few years ago and showcases a large section of the defensive wall built by the Carthaginians in about 230 B.C.   These excavated remains that once protected the landward side of the town, were built by Hannibal’s predecessor Hasdrubal and consist of fifty meters of a double thickness wall with space for rooms in between to lodge supplies and possibly even soldiers or elephants.  It is still up to ten feet high in some sections and the sandstone blocks that made it are several feet thick.   There are also hopes that excavations on a hill in the city’s center may one day reveal traces of the palace built by Hasdrubal, who was Hannibal’s brother in law and the founder of Cartagena.

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Danny, Ben and Sam Wood followed Hannibal's 2,400 mile campaign trail via Spain, France the Alps, Italy and back to Tunisia, on bicycles. (Image: Abalg + traduction made by Pinpin [GFDL

When Hannibal’s invasion force left the city in 218 B.C. it consisted of one hundred thousand soldiers, tens of thousands of horses, pack animals, thirty seven elephants and countless thousands of camp followers.  Keeping all those mouths fed while on the move through hostile territory was an awesome task.  Without the advantages of refrigeration and modern transport, Hannibal’s logistics team must have organized the equivalent of mobile farms to follow the army and thousands of civilians devoted to finding and preparing food.   One of Hannibal’s advisers thought supplying food on this scale was impossible and suggested they accustom the men to cannibalism to ensure they never ran out!  The horrific prospect of a man-eating army never came to pass.   Our minor food issues were never anything like the sort Hannibal faced.  But the night before we set off I decided it was wise to eat well and consumed what my brothers described as the biggest T-bone steak they had ever seen.

We were a little worried that our peculiar television documentary combining bike riding and history might not actually work.  But in the ancient ruins of Sagunto, near Valencia, it came together beautifully.   This castle is so big it covers two neighboring hills and its perimeter wall, still intact, runs for hundreds of meters.  In Hannibal’s time it was an Iberian fortress allied to the Romans and the site of a long and bloody siege.  Inside the old walls where the surviving townspeople threw themselves into fires rather than be captured by Hannibal, there are now wastelands of dirt and dust where families of cactus plants cluster together.  The castle’s protector, a rotund, dour, middle aged Spaniard, from his stone hut to watch us filming while puffing on a large cigar. With cameraman John rolling we rode up to the castle on our bikes, dismounted like ancient knights, hopped round the walls telling the story of Hannibal’s siege and then remounted our steads to leave the scene of battle.  On that day, history and bike riding were perfect partners.

There were moments on this ten week epic when incidents would trigger feelings that helped us really appreciate our incredible journey. At a campsite north of Barcelona, we’d just finished filming a Carthaginian style barbecue on the beach scene.  A chef friend of mine, Adam Melonas, had prepared a baby pig on a spit stuffed with chorizo style and blood sausages (a bad day to be vegetarian), massive oysters and the biggest figs and peaches you have ever seen.   This was a meal for the lucky, officer class. After sampling this feast we were waiting by the support vehicle when the campsite gardeners approached us.  With genuine sincerity the two men told us they were very proud of what we doing because we were trying to share with others history and culture which they said was a very noble thing to do.  It was probably the nicest thing anyone said to us on the trip.  We left them the remains of our pig.

At Ampurias, about one hundred miles north of Barcelona, we encountered our next archaeological Hannibal connection.  This is the site of both the remains of the Roman town and next to it, right on the sea shore, the remnants of the most important ancient Greek colony in Iberian Spain, Emporion.  As we filmed in-between its ruinous walls, the local archaeologist, Marta Santos Retolaza, told us that they have found evidence that the defensive walls of the town were reinforced in about 218 B.C, in anticipation of Hannibal’s arrival with his large army.  We don’t know if Hannibal actually attacked the town to punish it for its known Roman sympathies, but it is just as likely he would have enjoyed calling in to meet the townsfolk.  The Carthaginian spoke fluent Greek and was accompanied on his campaign by Sosylus, his Greek tutor.

Arguably the most amazing feature of Hannibal’s Italian invasion was how he managed to get an army and nearly forty elephants over the Alps and into Italy.  He did it at great cost – if the ancient sources are to be believed, by the time Hannibal was in the Alps he had about fifty thousand men with him.  Nearly half would have perish from cold, hunger, or attacks from mountain tribes by the time he reached Italy.  Which col, or mountain pass, he actually crossed into Italy is still a historical puzzle and experts – including Dr. Patrick Hunt at Stanford University – are trying to crack it.   No conclusive archaeological remains of Hannibal’s crossing have been found so all we have to go on are dramatic descriptions of the journey by the two ancient authors, Polybius and Livy.   Historians have extracted criteria from those descriptions to assess the viability of a mountain passes as a possible Hannibal routes.  Those criteria include a white or bald rock where Hannibal is thought to have sought refuge with part of his army after an attack by hill tribes, an area below the summit within a day’s march from that bald rock where an army could camp and a spectacular view from the summit towards Italy that Hannibal used to inspire his men onwards.  We split up and individually test rode three of the possible mountain passes. I took the easiest: Montgenevre, now a ski resort and a relatively casual climb to six thousand feet along a tarmac road.   Ben took the Col de Clapier which involved the tricky task of pushing his bike for hours along a valley floor, some of it in the dark.  But Sam had the toughest assignment: Col de la Traversette.  To test this mountain he dragged his bike up a rock face through snow and ice to a height of nearly ten thousand feet.  By then I was safely drinking my hot chocolate and I’m still not sure how Sam managed it.

Crossing the Trebbia River (courtesy of Andrea Illescas)

One afternoon we finished filming in the Gorge de Gats – where Hannibal and his army could have been ambushed by hill tribes – and set off with another long cycle ahead of us.  We’d had several extended days of filming and riding, not eaten much lunch and were desperate to stop for a snack  – but there was nothing on the road.  We kept riding up and down, up and down, increasingly tired and frustrated, and then we suddenly had this beautiful, curving, Alpine descent into a valley where a village almost seemed to twinkle to us from below. We rolled into the only cafe and enjoyed one of the best coffees of the trip.

Polybius and Livy say Hannibal’s descent into Italy was very steep and our cycling down into Italy was also at surprisingly sheer gradient: a thirty mile freewheeling run, winding past Alpine creeks, a descents where your hands are so sore from squeezing the breaks that you have to stop and rest them.

Hannibal was in Italy for fifteen years battling Roman armies but we only had a couple of weeks.  During that time we rode through classic scenery in Tuscany where the combination of cypress and olive trees, vineyards and farmhouses made you feel like you were inside a Renaissance painting.

We explored the key battlefields, from Hannibal’s first big victory in Italy on the Trebbia River near Piacenza, to his famous and crushing defeat of two Roman armies at Cannae near  Lake Trasimeno, site of a third major victory, is well layed out with billboards that follow the progress of this battle where Hannibal destroyed another Roman force using the screen of the morning fog to achieve complete surprise.

Near Naples, the city famous for its pizza and the Roman ruin of Pompeii we called in on Lake Averno.  This is an extinct volcano crater that filled with water thousands of years ago and the ancients believed it was the entrance to the underworld.  Hannibal made a sacrifice to the gods here, so we did too, using wine, honey, milk and cereal just like he would have – but leaving out the sacrificial lamb!  Along Italian coastlines we followed Hannibal’s desperate search for a port city that would have enabled Carthage, his home across the Mediterranean Sea, to send him adequate reinforcements.  This took us to the town of Taranto where the desperate state of our clothes was becoming apparent to fashion minded locals.  When not in bike gear we’d taken to wearing woolen hats, tracksuit tops, shorts and the slippers we’d kept from a hotel we’d stayed in during a rest day – all in the name of ensuring our bikes were carrying as light a load as possible.  We probably looked something Viggo Mortensen in the movie, The Road, where he’s stumbling across frozen moonscapes in ratty, beggar like attire.  The Tarentine locals would scan us up and down in horror.   It’s a shame some of them don’t pay more attention to their local archaeology.  Virtually invisible, beneath a fogged up perspex screen, the local tourist guide pointed out the remains of a defensive wall that was thought to have been built by Hannibal and his men to blockade the Romans inside the town’s citadel.  The wall is mentioned in Polybius and Livy.

Crotone in Apulia, on the bottom of the ‘heel’ of Italy was Hannibal’s last refuge before he was recalled to the homeland.  There we visited another remnant from his campaign.  On the edge a cliff, are the remains of an ancient temple of Jupiter.  Polybius says he visited this temple to record the information on a plaque that Hannibal had fixed to one of its columns, detailing of his campaigns.  Today there is only one column left standing and it looks like it may soon by claimed by the ocean.

It was like a breath of fresh air when we crossed the Mediterranean by ferry to Hannibal’s home, Tunisia, on the North African coast, once the center of the Carthaginian Empire.  Once outside the crazy traffic of the capital city, riding in Tunisian countryside was often like being part of a medieval landscape.  You could watch farmers sowing their seeds by hand as you passed donkeys pulling carts. Hannibal returned to fight one last, decisive battle against the Romans – Zama – probably near the village of Jama, about eighty miles inland from Tunes, the modern capital.  Hannibal lost that clash and with that defeat Carthage succumbed in the war against Rome.  We visited the battlefield – now dusty farmland where the locals still get water from a well – then we toured what little that remains of ancient Carthage, now a suburb of Tunes.   Its two ancient, Carthaginian circular ports, one for its navy, the other for merchant ships, are now surrounded by villas belonging to wealthy locals.  As a parting gesture to the inspiration for our long ride we bought Hannibal souvenirs – some mugs with his portrait – in the chaotic Tunes market.   Our Hannibal adventure was over, but the Carthaginian general’s struggle against his old foe would continue for another two decades.  In modern day Turkey where he played the part of military adviser to local monarchs in their wars against Rome, he finally ran out of luck.  With the exit routes of his villa sealed off by Roman soldiers, he took a suicide pill and according to Plutarch, uttered these final words: “Let us now, put an end to the life which has caused the Romans so much anxiety.”

On Hannibal’s Trail, a six part documentary about Danny, Ben and Sam Wood’s bicycle adventure has screened on BBC Television. For more information and to donate to Wood Brother’s ‘Jama Fund’ that aims to renovate the school in the Tunisian village where Hannibal fought the battle bearing its name, go to www.woodbrothers.tv