Notes from Cambridge on Amber and Land Crocodiles

The first two books of Aetius of Amida's medical text are about 'materia medica': what are the pharmacological effects of various plants, animals and minerals and (to a lesser extent) how do we judge the potency of a given sample of a drug? Most of the time, the entries are taken from Galen's Mixtures and Capacities of Simple Drugs and Capacities of Foods. Sometimes we come across entries from other people who wrote on 'materia medica', like Dioscorides. Less frequently, there are bits and pieces from some lost works of authors we don't know from any other source.

The entry on amber, for instance, is not given a parallel by the books' editor, Olivieri. It seems, however, that it may have been taken from a pseudo-Dioscorides, who wrote a work called "On Stones".

Here's the passage from Aetius.

"Amber, soukinon or lingourion. When drunk, it cures urinary problems and helps stomach problems. Also, golden-amber drunk with mastic cures stomach pain."

Ἤλεκτρον ἢ σούκινον ἢ λιγγούριον. Πινόμενον ἰᾶται δυσουρίαν καὶ στομαχικοὺς ὠφελεῖ, καὶ ὁ χρυσήλεκτρος δὲ πινόμενος σὺν μαστίχῃ ἀλγήματα στομάχου ἰᾶται.

Aëtius of Amida, Libri medicinales II 35 (167,23-25 Olivieri)

And here's the parallel passage from pseudo-Dioscorides:

"Stone of amber, or lyngourion, or soukhinon. When drunk, this cures urinary problems and helps stomach problems as well as pallor. And amber drunk with mastic cures stomach pains."

Λίθος ἠλέκτρου ἢ λυγγούριον ἢ σούχινον. Πινόμενος οὗτος ἰᾶται δυσουρίαν καὶ στομαχικοὺς ὠφελεῖ καὶ ὠχριάσεις· καὶ τὸ ἤλεκτρον δὲ σὺν μαστίχῃ πινόμενον ἀλγήματα στομάχου ἰᾶται.

Pseudo-Dioscorides, On Stones c.10 (Volume 2, Part 1, p.180,13-15 Rulle)

There are a few little differences in them. The biggest: Pseudo-Dioscorides has "καὶ ὠχριάσεις· καὶ τὸ ἤλεκτρον" while Olivieri's text of Aetius has "καὶ ὁ χρυσήλεκτρος". But we can explain this, I think, by assuming there was a mistake in the transmission of Aetius. Maybe a copyist misread (or misheard?) "ὠχριάσεις" as "ὠ χριάσεις" or as "ὁ χρυς καὶ ἤλεκτρον" (like the 'iotacism' we see in "λυγγούριον" > "λιγγούριον" - upsilons at some point started to sound like iotas), correcting it to χρυσήλεκτρος: "golden-amber" (the stuff is mentioned by Pliny, but what other kind of amber is there?).

Some Renaissance editors seem to have had the same opinion. Olivieri notes that the ψ-family of mss. has "καὶ ὠχρούς". Not sure how that happened, but to me it suggests someone thought it appropriate to amend the text, and emended it (or restored it) to something awfully close to On Stones, in which amber is a cure for pallor.

On Pallor

Aristotle discusses pallor in the context of a discussion on predication, i.e., when we say someone 'is pale' as opposed to something less permanent, like 'turned pale' or 'looking pale'.

"All those circumstances that have taken their start from certain affections that are difficult to change and are permanent are called 'qualities'. For when pallor or darkness are produced in a person's natural composition, they are called a quality, because we are said to be a certain quality in accordance with them; and when pallor or darkness have occurred because of a long illness or a sunburn and are they are not easily returned to their previous state or even remain throughout life, they are also called qualities, since we are likewise said to be a certain quality because of them. But whichever [circumstances] come about from something that easily disperses and quickly returns to its  previous state are called 'affections', because people are not said to be a certain quality because of them. For someone who turns purple because of shame is not called 'purple'; someone who turns pale because of fear is not called 'pale', rather one is said to have been somehow affected. These kinds of things, therefore, are called affections, not qualities."

ὅσα μὲν οὖν τῶν τοιούτων συμπτωμάτων ἀπό τινων παθῶν δυσκινήτων καὶ παραμονίμων τὴν ἀρχὴν εἴληφε ποιότητες λέγονται· εἴτε γὰρ ἐν τῇ κατὰ φύσιν συστάσει ὠχρότης ἢ μελανία γεγένηται, ποιότης λέγεται,  – ποιοὶ γὰρ κατὰ ταύτας λεγόμεθα, –  εἴτε διὰ νόσον μακρὰν ἢ διὰ καῦμα [τὸ αὐτὸ] συμβέβηκεν ὠχρότης ἢ μελανία, καὶ μὴ ῥᾳδίως ἀποκαθίστανται ἢ καὶ διὰ βίου παραμένουσι, ποιότητες καὶ αὐταὶ λέγονται,  – ὁμοίως γὰρ ποιοὶ κατὰ ταύτας λεγόμεθα. –  ὅσα δὲ ἀπὸ ῥᾳδίως διαλυομένων καὶ ταχὺ ἀποκαθισταμένων γίγνεται πάθη λέγεται· οὐ γὰρ λέγονται ποιοί τινες κατὰ ταῦτα· οὔτε γὰρ ὁ ἐρυθριῶν διὰ τὸ αἰσχυνθῆναι ἐρυθρίας λέγεται, οὔτε ὁ ὠχριῶν διὰ τὸ φοβεῖσθαι ὠχρίας, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον πεπονθέναι τι· ὥστε πάθη μὲν τὰ τοιαῦτα λέγεται, ποιότητες δὲ οὔ.

Aristotle, Categories c.8, 9b19-33 (link to English text of  Edghill at classics.mit)

So, there are naturally or unnaturally pale people, and then there are people who are affected by pallor due to fear or some other cause.

But what kind of affection was pallor? Posidonius thought (according to someone someone once thought was Plutarch) it was brought about by an affection of the soul that has effects in the body:

"Posidonius says some [affections] are psychic, others bodily. And some are not [affections] of the soul, but are bodily ones connected with the soul; while others are not [affections] of the body but are psychic ones connected with the body. Psychic [affections] on their own are [affections] in judgment and estimation, things like desire, fear, anger. Bodily [affections] on their own are fever, chill, compression, rarefaction. Bodily [affections] connected with the soul are lethargy, melancholy, mental suffering, hallucinations, giddiness. Finally, psychic affections connected with the body are trembling, pallor and changes of countenance following fear and pain."

Ὅ γέ τοι Ποσειδώνιος τὰ μὲν [sc. παθήματα] εἶναι ψυχικά, τὰ δὲ σωματικά, καὶ τὰ μὲν οὐ ψυχῆς, περὶ ψυχὴν δὲ σωματικά, τὰ δ' οὐ σώματος, περὶ σῶμα δὲ ψυχικά φησι, ψυχικὰ μὲν ἁπλῶς τὰ ἐν κρίσεσι καὶ ὑπολήψεσιν οἷον ἐπιθυμίας λέγων, φόβους, ὀργάς, σωματικὰ δ' ἁπλῶς πυρετούς, περιψύξεις, πυκνώσεις, ἀραιώσεις, περὶ ψυχὴν δὲ σωματικὰ ληθάργους, μελαγχολίας, δηγμοὺς, φαντασίας, διαχύσεις, ἀνάπαλιν δὲ περὶ σῶμα ψυχικὰ τρόμους καὶ ὠχριάσεις καὶ μεταβολὰς τοῦ εἴδους κατὰ φόβον ἢ λύπην.

pseudo-Plutarch, De libidine et aegritudine, 6.1-9

Hippocrates and Baltic Amber

There is a nice write up on ancient sources that talk about the origins of amber from the Getty.

The people at "Amber Artisans" (first google hit when I searched for "amber medicinal properties" on 26. February 2018) claim that,

"Natural Baltic Amber has unique properties unlike any other amber in the world. Famous Hippocrates (460-377 BC), father of medicine, in his works described medicinal properties and methods of application of Baltic amber that were later used by scientists until the Middle Ages."

I've not been able to find any mention of the stuff in any Hippocratic work, and I do not think Baltic amber in particular would have been easy to come by in Cos or Athens back then. Still, I did learn from this site that Baltic amber contains higher concentrations of succinic acid, a name which must come from sucinum, a Latin word for amber. The Greek version of this word is second in Aetius' list of synonyms.

A note on soukhinon.

The story behind soukhinon is hard to track down. Ἤλεκτρον was associated with an ability to attract bits of straw and dry grass, and there are lots of stories about the etymology of its name. I haven't found any etymologies for soukhinon, however, and LSJ take it simply as a synonym for amber:

LSJ: σούκῐνος, η, ον,

made of amber (Lat. sucinum), Artem.2.5 (v.l. σούνιχοι): cf. σουγχῖνος, σούχινον.

σούκινος· εὐνοῦχος, Hsch.

LSJ: σουγχῖνος, ὁ, =

sucinum, amber, Gp.15.1.29: cf. σούκινος.

LSJ are referring in the last entry to the Geoponica, a very late Byzantine collection of facts about agriculture. Here's the section:

"Amber (lit. electrion stone), or sounkhinos, draws to itself all kinds of things that are straw-like and light, except for basil."

ὁ ἠλεκτριωνὸς λίθος, ἤτοι σουγχῖνος, πάντα τὰ ἀχυρώδη καὶ κοῦφα ἕλκει πρὸς ἑαυτόν, πλὴν ὠκίμου.

Geoponica, 15.1.29 (435,20-22 Beckh)

Another of their references is to an ancient dream interpretation manual, the Oneirocritica, by Artemidorus, written a good bit earlier, around Galen's time. Artemidorus mentions the stone in the context of rings that appear in dreams:

"Rings of soukinoi, ivory and whatever others there happen to be are good [signs] only for women."

σούκινοι δὲ καὶ ἐλεφάντινοι καὶ ὅσοι ἄλλοι δακτύλιοι γίνονται γυναιξὶ μόναις συμφέρουσιν.

Artemidorus, Oneirocritica, 2.5.10-12 (here's an old, elegant edition)

Pliny also discusses amber, and he mainly refers to it as sucinum, giving  electron and lyngourion as Greek synonyms  (more on lyngourion  below).

He mentions one story which he says is told by the Greeks about the origin of amber. He is not convinced by the story, but the connection between amber and lightning is wildly suggestive. Here is what he says:

"When Phaeton had been hit by a thunderbolt, his sisters, who in grief changed into poplar trees, shed tears of electron every year onto the shores of the stream of Eridanus, which we call Padus (i.e., the Po). They are called 'electron', because the sun is said to be the 'Elector'…"

Phaëthontis fulmine icti sorores luctu mutatas in arbores populos lacrimis electrum omnibus annis fundere iuxta Eridanum amnem, quem Padum vocavimus, electrum appellatum, quoniam sol vocitatus sit Elector […]

Pliny, HN 37.31.3-5 (available at Bill Thayer's LacusCurtius)

Amber and the Lynx

The Po flows over the ancient region of Liguria, which Pliny points out is where Theophrastus thought amber got its other name, λυγγούριον, i.e., the stone from Liguria. Theophrastus, however, tells a better story about this  name for amber. (Pliny attributes this story to someone named "Demostratus").

This etymology begins from the name, λυγγούριον, which just means lynx urine :

"It (i.e., a stone he talked about just before called 'smaragdos') is strange in its power, and so is lyngourion. For one thing, small signet rings are carved from it and these are extremely hard, as if they were stone. For another, they are attractive, just like amber, and some say it attracts not only straw and dried leaves, but also copper and iron if they are in thin pieces, as Diocles said. It is very translucent and cold. The stones from wild [lynx] are better than those from tame ones, and those from males better than from females, since they differ in their food, their exercising or not exercising, and generally in the nature of their body, so that one is drier and the other moister. Those who are experienced find it by digging it up. For the lynx hides [its urine] and piles earth on top of it whenever it urinates."

Αὕτη τε δὴ περιττὴ τῇ δυνάμει καὶ τὸ λυγγούριον· καὶ γὰρ ἐκ τούτου γλύφεται τὰ σφραγίδια καὶ ἔστι στερεωτάτη καθάπερ λίθος· ἕλκει γὰρ ὥσπερ τὸ ἤλεκτρον, οἱ δέ φασιν οὐ μόνον κάρφη καὶ φύλλα ἀλλὰ καὶ χαλκὸν καὶ σίδηρον ἐὰν ᾖ λεπτός, ὥσπερ καὶ Διοκλῆς ἔλεγεν. ἔστι δὲ διαφανῆ τε σφόδρα καὶ ψυχρά. βελτίω δὲ τὰ τῶν ἀγρίων ἢ τὰ τῶν ἡμέρων καὶ τὰ τῶν ἀρρένων ἢ τὰ τῶν θηλειῶν ὡς καὶ τῆς τροφῆς διαφερούσης, καὶ τοῦ πονεῖν ἢ μὴ πονεῖν, καὶ τῆς τοῦ σώματος ὅλως φύσεως, ᾗ ξηρότερον τὸ δ' ὑγρότερον. εὑρίσκουσι δ' ἀνορύττοντες οἱ ἔμπειροι· κατακρύπτεται γὰρ καὶ ἐπαμᾶται γῆν ὅταν οὐρήσῃ.

Theophrastus, On Stones, 28.1-10 (p.23 Caley and Richards)

Bill Thayer has up at LacusCurtius Philip Smith's entry on electrum in A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, ed. Murray, London 1875, pp.450-451. Worth checking out here.

Land Crocodiles

Here is one last passage, which Christine Salazar had translated (my take on it is below). It is an excerpt from Galen, but Aetius' abridgment is wonderfully straightforward for a medical text.

"On goose, hawk, stork and land-crocodile excrement. The excrement of geese, hawks, storks and the rest, which some crazy people write about, is not useful, a judgment that has come from experience. Land-crocodile excrement, on the other hand, is not easy to come by."

Περὶ κόπρου χηνὸς καὶ ἱέρακος καὶ πελαργῶν καὶ χερσαίων κροκοδείλων. Ἡ δὲ τῶν χηνῶν καὶ ἱεράκων καὶ πελαργῶν κόπρος καὶ τῶν λοιπῶν, περὶ ὧν οἱ ληρήσαντες ἔγραψαν, ἄχρηστός ἐστιν, ὡς τῇ πείρᾳ ἐκρίθη. ἡ δὲ τῶν χερσαίων κροκοδείλων καὶ δυσπόριστος.

Aëtius of Amida, Libri medicinales, II 119 (195,22-25 Olivieri)

Just one question on this: what is a land crocodile?

Invasive species

I

We like to tell stories about how things get their names, perhaps because we imagine names will give us insight into something’s essence. We also don’t always agree on what names mean, and so sometimes we tell different stories.

Take the avocado. The avocado’s botanical name, Persea americana Mill., comes from another tree, the Persea, that grew in ancient Egypt. The name was chosen by the English botanist Philip Miller (1691–1771), whose great achievement was to name many of the New World’s plants without ever having left Europe. Miller must have noticed some resemblance between descriptions of the old-world Persea and the new-world avocado, although what it was is unclear. I doubt he ever saw an ancient Egyptian Persea, and although he writes as if he tried to grow avocados, I can’t tell if he was ever successful. Whatever had inspired him, Miller left no record. The story is lost. 

The story I am interested in, however, is not about the avocado, but about the plant it was named after: the Persea. How did a tree from Egypt end up with a name that sounds like it came from another country, from Persia?

This is a story people were already interested in telling two-thousand years ago. Galen alludes to it in the middle of a long argument against Aristotle and Athenaeus of Attalia and he says just enough to make one curious.

“[Aristotle and Athenaeus] say that children who are similar to their mothers are made similar by the nutriment [i.e., the nutriment the mother provides to the fetus]. From there they extend a long string of arguments showing just how many alterations in animals and plants are produced by nutriment. Then, they fail to notice they are unable to prove any of the alterations they mention [involves] a change in its species [brought about by the nutriment]. For to begin with, when the Persea plant was transplanted to Egypt, its species did not change; instead, when it got useful nutriment, its fruit became edible, when it hadn't been edible before. ”

τὰ δ’ ὁμοιούμενα παιδία τῇ μητρὶ διxὰ τὴν τροφὴν ὁμοιοῦσθαί φασιν· κᾄπειτα ἐντεῦθεν ἀποτείνουσι δολιχὸν τοῦ λόγου δεικνύντες, ὅσαι διὰ τροφῆς ἀλλοιώσεις ἐγίγνοντο καὶ ζώοις καὶ φυτοῖς. εἶτ’ οὐκ αἰσθάνονται μηδεμίαν ὧν λέγουσιν ἀλλοιώσεων ἐπιδεῖξαι δυνάμενοι τὸ εἶδος ἐξαλλάττουσαν. αὐτίκα γὰρ <οὔτε> τὸ Περσαῖον φυτὸν εἰς Αἴγυπτον μετακομισθὲν ἐξηλλάγη τὴν ἰδέαν, ἀλλὰ χρηστῆς ἐπιλαβόμενον τροφῆς τὸν καρπὸν ἐδώδιμον ἔσχεν, οὐκ ὂν πρότερον τοιοῦτο.

Galen, De semine 2.1.40–42 (IV.603 K. = CMG V 3,1 154,9–15 De Lacy)

Galen must have some story in mind about how the Persea got to Egypt, but what is the story? Who was his source? I could not find anything like it in Aristotle’s works, so I kept searching to see if the source might have been Athenaeus, the other target of Galen’s attack.

I found a lead in an anonymous ancient paradoxographer. The paradoxographer reports a story attributed to someone named Athenaeus*—a tall-tale of botanical etymology and biological warfare gone wrong. It goes like this:

“Athenaeus says that among the Persians there was a certain tree which bore fatally poisonous fruit. The Persians, when Kambyses waged war against Egypt, imported it to Egypt and planted it in many places so that the Egyptians would be killed when they ate the fruit. Since, however, the soil the tree was in had changed, the fruit it produced became harmless, and it came to be called Persaea because it had been planted by Persians.”

Ἀθήναιός φησιν ἐν Πέρσαις εἶναι δένδρον τι θανάσιμον τὸν καρπὸν φέρον, ὃ τοὺς πέρσας, ὅτε Καμβύσης ἐπ’ Αἴγυπτον ἐστράτευσε, κομίσαι εἰς Αἴγυπτον καὶ ἐν πολλοῖς φυτεῦσαι τόποις, ὅπως οἱ Αἰγύπτιοι τὸν καρπὸν προσφερόμενοι διαφθαρῶσι· τὸ δὲ δένδρον μεταβαλὸν τὴν γῆν ἀπαθῆ τὸν καρπὸν ἐξενεγκεῖν, καὶ περσαίαν τ’ ὀνομάζεσθαι διὰ τὸ ὑπὸ Περσῶν φυτευθῆναι.

Paradoxographus Palatinus, Admiranda 18 (Giannini ed. in Paradoxographorum Graecorum Reliquiae, Milan: Istituto Editoriale Italiano, 1965: 354–360.)

A little background. After the Cyrus the Great had conquered most of the Middle East, his son Kambyses II set out to conquer Egypt. Athenaeus says that on his campaign, he brought along a certain kind of tree from his homeland which he knew to be poisonous. If he planted them while marching through Egypt, the ideas seems to be that the Egyptians would naively eat the fruit, become poisoned, and die, making the land that much easier to conquer. Unfortunately for Kambyses, since the soil in Egypt was so much more fertile than it was in Persia, the fruit from the trees turned from evil to good and his plans were thwarted.

Even by ancient standards, this is a pretty fantastic way of trying to explain why a plant in Egypt is called Persian. Kambyses would have been playing the long game (how many years would it take for the plants to start fruiting?). Besides, why would the Egyptians keep eating it once they found out it was poisonous? For whatever reason, though, Athenaeus seems to have thought the story was plausible enough, since he uses it to support a claim he knew his audience would find implausible—that while mothers contribute only nutrition, and no seminal traits, to their offspring, nutrition can still determine enough of an offspring’s formal characteristics, even its species, to account for why a child will look like its mother.

II

Athenaeus, however, was not the only one to tell this story. As I looked into it, the details started to become more complicated and more interesting. It turns out, it was generally agreed that there was some story about how the Persea got its name, but there was disagreement about the details. In fact, there seem to have been at least two different versions.

Here’s a version, reported by Diodorus of Sicily:

“There are many kinds of tree [in Egypt], and of them, what are called Persaea have fruit that stand out as being extremely sweet. The plant was introduced from Ethiopia by Persians during the time when Kambyses conquered the place.”

ἔστι δὲ καὶ δένδρων γένη πλείονα, καὶ τούτων αἱ μὲν ὀνομαζόμεναι περσαῖαι καρπὸν διάφορον ἔχουσι τῇ γλυκύτητι, μετενεχθέντος ἐξ Αἰθιοπίας ὑπὸ Περσῶν τοῦ φυτοῦ καθ’ ὃν καιρὸν Καμβύσης ἐκράτησεν ἐκείνων τῶν τόπων.

Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca historica 1.34.7 = Agatharchides of Cnidus (~200 BCE?)  Jacoby FGrH 2a 86 F, Fr. 19 ll. 89–92. (DNP claims he influenced Posidonius and cite fr. 86)

In the version Diodorus reports, the plant wasn’t brought with Kambyses from Persia. Instead, Kambyses and the Persians bring it to Egypt from Ethiopia. We don’t get an explanation why.

One story, therefore, explains the name by saying it was introduced from Persia, the other saying it was introduced from Ethiopia by Persians.

Looking into more sources, I found that both versions had made the rounds in antiquity, people knew it, but no one knew which story was true.

Some authors were confused enough that they simply told both tales. This was the strategy of an anonymous commentary on Nicander’s Theriac, who attributes one to a certain Sostratos, the other to Bolos the Democritean:

“The kranokolaptes are seen on Perseia, as Sostratos [says] in his book On Things that Sting and Bite. They say the Perseia, which they call Rhodakinea, was transplanted from Ethiopia to Egypt. But Bolos the Democritean says in his book On Sympathies and Antipathies that the Persians had a poisonous plant in their own country and planted it in Egypt, since they had wanted to conquer it for some time. Since [the land in Egypt] was good, [the plant] changed into its opposite and the plant made the sweetest fruit.”

ὁ κρανοκολάπτης ἐν ταῖς περσείας ὁρᾶται, ὡς Σώστρατος ἐν τῷ περὶ βλητῶν καὶ δακέτων.  τὴν δὲ περσείαν φασίν, ἣν ῥοδακινέαν καλοῦσιν, ἀπὸ Αἰθιοπίας εἰς Αἴγυπτον μεταφυτευθῆναι. Βῶλος δὲ ὁ Δημοκρίτειος ἐν τῷ περὶ συμπαθειῶν καὶ ἀντιπαθειῶν Πέρσας φησὶν ἔχοντας παρ’ ἑαυτοῖς θανάσιμον φυτὸν φυτεῦσαι ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ, ὡς πολλῶν μελλόντων ἀναιρηθήσεσθαι, τὴν δὲ ἀγαθὴν οὖσαν, εἰς τοὐναντίον μεταβαλεῖν ποιῆσαί τε τὸ φυτὸν καρπὸν γλυκύτατον

Scholia in Nicandrum Theriaca 764A (text above is from Crugnola’s 1971 text; link is to Bussemaker’s 1849 text, which is slightly different)

These details make things even weirder. The second story is familiar. But the first version: why would an Ethiopian plant transplanted to Egypt known as Persea also come to be called Rhodakinea? Did it make a stop in Rhodes? And how did it end up in Egypt? 

Then there are the deadly spiders, the kranokolaptes. Dioscorides also mentions them in his Materia medica:

“The Persaea is a tree which grows in Egypt. It bears edible fruit, it is good for the stomach, and on it are found the venomous spiders called kranokolaptes, especially in Thebes. The dried leaves when sprinkled as a fine powder are able to stop hemorrhage. Some report that this tree was poisonous in Persia, but that it changed when it was introduced to Egypt and became edible.”

περσαία δένδρον ἐστὶν ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ, καρπὸν φέρον ἐδώδιμον, εὐστόμαχον, ἐφ’ οὗ καὶ τὰ λεγόμενα κρανοκόλαπτα φαλάγγια εὑρίσκεται, μάλιστα δὲ ἐν τῇ Θηβαίδι. δύναμιν δὲ ἔχει τὰ φύλλα λεῖα ἐπιπαττόμενα ξηρὰ αἱμορραγίας ἱστᾶν. τοῦτο δὲ ἱστόρησάν τινες ἐν Περσίδι ἀναιρετικὸν εἶναι, μετατεθὲν δὲ εἰς Αἴγυπτον ἀλλοιωθῆναι καὶ ἐδώδιμον γενέσθαι.

Dioscorides, De Materia Medica 1.129 (120,12–18 Wellmann)

Dioscorides seems remarkably confident about the spiders (maybe they are nature’s way of restoring some kind of poison-health balance after the tree’s fruit became edible). Notice, however, his ambivalence about the origin story: on the one hand, he assigns it to people he is not even willing to name; on the other, he still mentions it, even though it adds very little that might be useful for identifying the plant or sorting out how to use it.

Galen, too, seems to share this ambivalence:

“Instead of the seed from the Chaste Tree, plaster the forehead with the fresh leaves of Persaea and an equal amount of myrrh with Egyptian perfume. I know the Persaea tree to exist only in Alexandria, at least not in any other of the Roman provinces. Some call it Persion and say in Persia the fruit of this tree is deadly, while in Egyptian countries it is harmless.”

ἢ ἄγνου σπέρμα, Περσαίας χλωρὰ φύλλα καὶ σμύρνης ἴσα σὺν μύρῳ Αἰγυπτίῳ κατάπλασσε τὸ μέτωπον. ἐν Ἀλεξανδρείᾳ μόνῃ τὸ τῆς Περσαίας δένδρον εἶδον, οὐ μὴν ἐν ἄλλῳ γέ τινι τῶν ὑπὸ Ῥωμαίοις ἐθνῶν. ἔνιοι δὲ Πέρσιον ὀνομάζουσιν αὐτὸ καί φασιν ἐν Πέρσαις ὀλέθριον εἶναι τὸν  καρπὸν τοῦ δένδρου τούτου. κατὰ δὲ τὴν τῶν Αἰγυπτίων χώραν ἀβλαβὲς ὑπάρχον.

Galen, De compositione medicamentorum secundum loco 2.2 (12.569–570 K)

I’m not sure why, unlike Dioscorides, Galen doesn’t mention that it grows in Thebes, since it seems to have been well-known:

“In fact, a tree in the Theban city of Hermopolis, which is called Persaea, is said to drive off many diseases…”

Καὶ ἐν Ἑρμουπόλει δὲ τῆς Θηβαΐδος δένδρον, ἣ Περσαία καλεῖται, πολλὰς ἀπελᾷν νόσους λέγεται...

Nicephorus Callistus Xanthopolus, Historia ecclesiastica 10.31.20–22

Galen also does not mention the spiders. Maybe he had a different source for the story.

At any rate, it seems we now have a plant in Egypt, called Persea, which is covered in deadly spiders (especially in Thebes), which comes either from Persia or Ethiopia, is good for stomach aches, and stops bleeding. 

And what about that other name mentioned by Sostratos, Rhodakinea? One might think this is explained by something Theophrastus says:

“The nature of places makes a great difference relative to bearing or not bearing fruit, as in the case of Persea and the date-palm. The first bears fruit in Egypt and in similar places, but in Rhodes it only comes to the point of blooming…”

εγάλη δὲ διαφορὰ πρὸς καρπὸν καὶ ἀκαρπίαν καὶ ἡ τῶν τόπων φύσις, ὥσπερ ἐπί τε τῆς περσέας ἔχει καὶ τῶν φοινίκων· ἡ μὲν ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ καρποφορεῖ καὶ εἴ που τῶν πλησίον τόπων, ἐν Ῥόδῳ δὲ μέχρι τοῦ ἀνθεῖν μόνον ἀφικνεῖται...

Theophrastus, Historia plantarum 3.3.5

It’s clear Theophrastus or his source thought the plant grew in Rhodes, and it might have taken the name Rhodakinea from there. But Theophrastus, at least, thinks that the Persea is a native tree (ἴδια δένδρα) of Egypt, and he only says that some tried to move it—unsuccessfully—to Rhodes. 

So it’s anybody’s guess how it got to Rhodes in the first place. It doesn’t bear any fruit up north so it must have been cultivated; and in Theophrastus’ version of the story, the plant was not introduced to Egypt at all, but was native to Egypt.

And contrary to what some people think, Theophrastus never says the Persea is grown in Persia. He speaks of something called a Median or Persian apple (τὸ μῆλον τὸ Μηδικὸν ἢ τὸ Περσικὸν καλούμενον) at Historia plantarum 4.4.2, but he never says it grows in Egypt and he says that people do not eat it, but use it for perfume, for keeping moths away, as an antidote for poison and as a breath-freshener. This was probably something like a citron.

Regarding the Persea, on the other hand, Theophrastus, like Diodorus, mentions it has nice, sweet fruit: 

“Some plants are not able to sprout at all in certain places, others sprout but do not bear fruit, like the Egyptian Persaea at Rhodes, but as you proceed south it produces, but only a little, and only there does it produce nice, sweet fruit.”

Τὰ μὲν οὖν ὅλως οὐδὲ βλαστάνειν ἐνιαχοῦ δύναται τὰ δὲ βλαστάνει μὲν ἄκαρπα δὲ γίνεται καθάπερ ἡ περσέα ἡ αἰγυπτία περὶ Ῥόδον, προϊόντι δὲ οὕτω φέρει μὲν ὀλίγον δὲ καὶ καλλικαρπεῖ καὶ γλυκυκαρπεῖ ἐκεῖ μόνον.

Theophrastus, De causis plantarum  2.3.7 (cf. Historia plantarum 4.2.5)

Whatever plant Theophrastus and Diodorus were talking about, assuming they were the same, it does not seem to be the one Athenaeus was talking about. There’s no mention of Persia, no mention of biological warfare, and no explanation why there is a plant growing in Egypt called Persian.

But it also means there are at least two stories, each about a plant called Persea, both growing in Egypt.

III

Prunus persica - The Persian Plum. From Prof. Dr. Otto Wilhelm Thomé, Flora von Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz 1885, Gera, Germany. Distributed under CC 4.0 license, via Wikimedia Commons.

Pliny seems to be aware of the confusion and tries to sort it out, apparently using Theophrastus as an authority, but confusing things terribly. He distinguishes the peach (persicae), which he says grows in Egypt and was transplanted to Rhodes (with the results Theophrastus describes), from the Persea, an entirely different tree, which he says resembles the myxa, a tree that grows cherry-like fruit:

“Indeed, it is clear from the name itself that persica (peaches), though foreign, belong to Asia and Greece and were brought from Persia. For peach (persicae, i.e. Persian) trees were slow and difficult to acclimate, such that they bear no fruit in Rhodes, which was their first place of settlement from Egypt. It is false that they are poisonous and cause torment when grown in Persia and were transplanted by kings into Egypt, where the land tamed them. The more diligent writers report this about the Persea, which is entirely different, similar to red myxos fruit, and did not want to grow outside the East. More educated individuals have also denied that it was transplanted from Persia because of punishment, but rather that it was planted by Perseus in Memphis, and for this reason, Alexander established the custom of crowning victors there in honor of his ancestor. However, it always has leaves and fruits while others are still growing. But it will be evident that all plums as well came here after Cato.”

in totum quidem persica peregrina etiam asiae graeciaeque esse ex nomine ipso apparet atque e perside advecta […]. nam Persicae arbores sero et cum difficultate transiere, ut quae in Rhodo nihil ferant, quod primum ab Aegypto earum fuerat hospitium. falsum est venenata cum cruciatu in Persis gigni et poenarum causa ab regibus tralata in Aegyptum terra mitigata. id enim de Persea diligentiores tradunt, quae in totum alia est, myxis rubentibus similis, nec extra orientem nasci voluit. eam quoque eruditiores negaverunt ex Perside propter supplicia tralatam, sed a Perseo Memphi satam, et ob id Alexandrum illa coronari victores ibi instituisse in honorem atavi sui. semper autem folia habet et poma subnascentibus aliis. sed pruna quoque omnia post Catonem coepisse manifestum erit.

Pliny, Naturalis Historia 15.13.45–46

Pliny believes the Persica only recently arrived in Rome, a fact borne out by archaeological evidence. He also says it was first in Persia, then Egypt, then Rhodes. He, too, is trying to make sense of stories about it growing in Egypt, and it seems he has conflated Theophrastus’ discussion of the sweet fruit of the Egyptian Persea with Theophrastus’ other description of the inedible Persian apple (τὸ μῆλοντὸ Περσικὸν). Theophrastus said it was the Persea  which travelled to Rhodes, not the Persikon. The latter had no connection to Egypt at all.

Pliny’s story was influential. The peach tree is still called prunus persica, the Persian plum. Here’s a note from the entry in Wikipedia:

‘The scientific name persica, along with the word “peach” itself and its cognates in many European languages, derives from an early European belief that peaches were native to Persia. The Ancient Romans referred to the peach as malum persicum “Persian apple”, later becoming French pêche, hence the English “peach.” The scientific name, Prunus persica, literally means “Persian plum,” as it is closely related to the plum.’

It is now generally agreed the peach originated in China, but the story of how it got to Europe remains as obscure for us as it was for Pliny.

As for the Persea, following certain unnamed authorities, Pliny abandoned the story that the Persea was brought to Egypt from Persia. He replaces it with the story, in his mind more reasonable, that the tree was brought to Egypt by Perseus, presumably after his visit to the Kingdom of Ethiopia. Hence, the name.

Today the Persea is generally thought to be the same as Mimusops laurifolia (Forssk.) Friis, a tree sacred to the ancient Egyptians, found in the tombs of Ramses II and Tutankhamen, and likely native to Ethiopia. But of course we can’t know any of this for sure. 

Finally, to add to the confusion, Miller used Persica as the genus name for peaches (see illustration above), and Persea as the genus name for Avocados...

The Persea tree of Ancient Egypt. Source: Cow of Gold, distributed under CC 3.0.

IV

Plutarch, by the way, had no truck with any of this etymologizing. He simply states how the plant was used:

“Of the plants in Egypt they say that the Persaea is consecrated especially to the goddess, because its fruit resembles a heart and its leaf a tongue.”

τῶν δ’ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ φυτῶν μάλιστα τῇ θεῷ καθιερῶσθαι λέγουσι τὴν περσέαν, ὅτι καρδίᾳ μὲν ὁ καρπὸς αὐτῆς, γλώττῃ δὲ τὸ φύλλον ἔοικεν.

Plutarch, Isis and Osiris 68 (Moralia 378C)

There’s a lesson here. 

*The anonymous might have meant Athenaeus of Naucritis, the author of the Sophists at Dinner (Deipnosophistae). I haven’t found the story in any of his writings, but this Athenaeus does talk about Kambyses’ expedition (Deipnosophistae 13.10) He also mentions that the source for his information about Kambyses is Ctesias of Cnidos, as plausible a source as any for a story as silly as the one we are about to hear. Still, I’d like to think the story comes from Athenaeus of Attalia, the Athenaeus attacked by Galen, if only because I am writing a book on him.

(revised with links, 18 September 2019)