Attila:The Scourge of God

Clear skies. Weather very hot.

In this one band alone is displayed a wide variety of tints: hair red, fair, and black; skins white to olive; eyes blue, green, brown, black. Regarding these differences, which show clear intermingling of races and may in part be explained by polygamy being general among the nomads, they seem quite indifferent. (A lesson here, perhaps, for Romans, for whom intermarriage with Germans is forbidden.) Indeed, though diverse in blood, the peoples of the steppes show a remarkable uniformity of culture and, though all have their separate tribal languages, can communicate with each other easily enough in a bastard Persian, which serves as a common tongue. On their departing, presented them with some beads of amber from the shores of the Mare Suevicum¹³ (from our store of trade goods for just such occasions), which pleased them greatly.

Post Scriptum.

Everywhere we’ve passed, Attila spoken of with interest and respect, proof that his reputation as a leader is already to be reckoned with. (We travelling incognito as traders, Attila not recognized for who he is, though his presence and gravity of demeanour never fail to impress all we meet, that here is a man of consequence.) Have heard reported many supposed ‘sayings’ of Attila, which amuse him greatly (the only times I’ve observed him to smile), some of which I here set down:

A wise chieftain never kills the Hun bearing bad news, only the Hun who fails to deliver bad news.

Great chieftains never take themselves too seriously.

Every decision involves some risk.

Huns only make enemies on purpose.

Never appoint acting chieftains.

Some have solutions for which there are no problems.

Every Hun has value — even if only to serve as a bad example.

Suffer long for mediocre but loyal Huns; suffer not for competent but disloyal Huns.

IV Nones Junii.¹⁴ Made camp on the shores of the Cham lake, halfway between the Irtish and Bantisus rivers. Though hot by day, the nights now very cold. (The reason I think may be this: as we approach the centre of this vast continent of Asia, so the land, becoming ever further from Ocean, is no longer warmed by its winds; also, as we progress, our direction being north of east we trend away from the temperate lands, towards the Boreal. If Ptolemy is correct, we should now be near the latitude of Ultima Thule.¹⁵) Rivers here have gravelly bottoms, and from constant changing of their beds have formed strange abandoned banks and islands, marooned in the midst of dry land! We now encounter fewer parties of nomads (some for the first time displaying the Mongol cast of feature) and, though always from a distance, more wild animals than formerly — elks, bears, wolves, bison, wild horses. Stands of timber, mainly pines, birch, and larch, more and more commonly seen. The steppe in places carpeted with sanfoin and wild thyme which, with the increasing frequency of trees, helps to break the monotony of the endless sea of grass. (I’ve heard that these vast steppes can, in some travellers, induce a weariness or sickness of the spirit.) Abundance of francolin and pheasant, a number of which Attila (like all Huns a superb marksman with the bow) shot — a welcome change to our usual fare of dried flesh. These delicious seasoned with salt, which the nomads obtain from the many salt lakes hereabouts, and which they’re willing to trade for trinkets — mirrors, needles, and the like.

Attila much given to contemplation. As we ride, he observes everything around him with a hunter’s eye, distinguishing an eagle from a buzzard when to me both are mere dots in the sky, yet all the time thinking deeply, as evidenced from the penetrating questions he continually shoots. Why, think you, Callisthenes, does the sun appear to move round the earth? What makes objects fall? Why do things appear smaller with distance? Why does a stone acquire more force the further it drops? Which shows that, in addition to possessing a supreme gift of leadership, Attila has a deep and penetrating mind.

That notwithstanding, I remind myself he is still a savage — an unlettered barbarian without recourse to written store of knowledge, and so limited by memory and observation to everything he can know or recall. Can a barbarian, however noble his vision, ever transcend such limitations? Ever react to, or plan against, what is not in the present? Construct a water-clock or understand Pythagoras? I venture to think that Attila might indeed discover the power to snap the bonds of barbarism, and escape the tyrrany of the immediate. For he seems aware of such restrictions, and that surely must be half the battle to free himself of them. A man who cannot read, provided he has the will and can command the influence, may at least surround himself with those who can, and thus provide himself with access to learning.

XII Kalends Julii.¹⁶ Arrived today at the shores of that great inland sea, the Lake of Baikal or Bai-Kul (which the Mongols call Dalai Nor or ‘Holy Sea’) enclosed by high, fir-covered hills. Since crossing the Yenisei river ten days ago, the country much changed — a chain of tall mountains always on our right hand,¹⁷ and the grassy plains much interrupted with hills and forests. Several days of heavy rain (from the proximity of mountains?); plagued by mosquitoes. Since the Yenisei, all the natives of Mongol race — Calmucks, Buryats, Ostyaks — in appearance so resembling the Huns that they take Attila for one of themselves, and seem surprised he does not comprehend when they address him in their own tongue. Which is surely proof that the belief of some natural philosophers, that the Huns originated from a region to the north of China, is correct. These people all herders of reindeer, which they also ride sitting on their necks or shoulders, the animals’ backs being not strong enough to bear a man’s weight. They introduced us to a drink called chai; this comes in the form of a cake a little of which, broken off and infused with boiling water, is drunk with a lump of butter. Somewhat bitter, but refreshing and much to be preferred to kumiss.

A curious incident occurred as we pitched camp on the banks of the Lena, not long before we reached the lake. We were struck by hearing a low, pleasing, musical note, repeated time after time and issuing from beyond a nearby rise. Investigating, we observed a great bear standing on his hind legs and, with his forepaw, bending then releasing a broken-off bough projecting from a tree, whose vibrations caused the sound. (Which proves that the myth of Orpheus charming the beasts with his lyre was based on true observation — namely, that animals are not indifferent to music.) Seeing us, the bear made off; Attila and I then tried in turn to bend the branch, but could not move it.

For many days have observed quantities of huge bones littering the ground: rhinoceros and elephant, but from animals of a size far exceeding that of any members of those species known today. Which leads me to speculate: did the Creator fashion such creatures (which in respect to size are so different from their modern counterparts) on the Fifth Day, along with the other beasts? Or could they be the ancestors (as Empedocles — who held that forms are constantly changing from an inferior to a more perfect state — seems to imply) of today’s rhinoceroses and elephants, grown smaller through the ages? And is it heresy (by challenging Holy Writ) to raise such questions? I trust not; after all, the Schools of Athens are still permitted to discuss all matters freely, whether or not they touch on the Divine Logos.

Tomorrow, Attila sets out for the abode of the sage Wu Tze, to ask (myself interpreting) what the Fates portend — as the Greeks of old, before embarking on any great enterprise, sought out the Delphic Oracle.

Excursus:¹⁸ Terra Nova?

The nomads here tell of a land beyond Ocean to the east, not further than a four moons’ journey north- eastwards to its nearest point, where it’s separated from the end of Asia by a narrow strait of only ten leagues’ width, in which are three islands. This, the local people, who are called Inuit, cross with ease in their canoes, paddling from island to island, as we would cross a river using stepping-stones; also, when the sea’s frozen, on sleds drawn by dogs, but then with more difficulty on account of the ice being hummocky, not smooth. Could this be that lost island of Atlantis of which Plato wrote in the Timaeus and the Kritias, and which was spoken of (although I think on hearsay) by Pliny, Diodorus, and Arnobius? Lucian, in his True History, speaks of an island eighty days’ sail westwards of the Pillars of Hercules, but this has generally been dismissed as imagined. The Celts believe in a Land of the Dead beyond the Western Sea, which they call Glasinnis or Avalon (the Hesperides or Isles of the Blessed, of our Greek forebears?); these things however pertain rather to Legend than to Geography.

Atlantis, then: substance or mere shadow? And, if more than fabled, could it be related to the land visited by the Inuit? Had but the modern Hellenes the same spirit of enquiry and adventure as that Greek of old, Pytheas,¹⁹ then might we know the answer ere too long.

And now, for the moment, Callisthenes must lay aside this his chronicle, as translating for both Attila and Wu