Link to the artist

November 9, 1989 

The fall of the Berlin Wall

It’s Friday (time to blast Franz Ferdinand because I’m so so tired but can’t stop now because I have five midterms next week and haven’t studied nearly enough)

Oh... the band

- Gavrilo Princip on the 28th of June 1914

Medieval kittens, from a 13th century English manuscript, (Bodleian Library, MS. Bodl. 533, fol. 13r) 

Since my last history related poll was fun, and the perception of time periods is fascinating....

(if you reblog and add tags, I'd also like to know where you usually study or read about)

every now and then i have to think of the roman family from two thousand years ago that buried their little daughter in a boy’s athletic-themed sarcophagus and i weep a little because that’s the softest declaration of love i can possibly imagine

i am once again emotional and sleep deprived so let me elaborate to make myself feel better.

octavia paulina was a six year old girl whose sarcophagus was found in her family’s tomb at via triumphalis in rome, dated roughly around the third century a.d. her parents mourned her mors immatura, her premature death, by having the wall behind her sarcophagus painted with the image of a giant meadow with children and a chariot pulled by doves accompanied by hermes leading an unconscious girl into afterlife. (to my knowledge, the doves and the fact that they were led by hermes was a symbol for hope.)

the sarcophagus itself shows athletic competitions between girls and boys alike, and in the most important one on the front, octavia paulina appears as the winner (a palm branch in her hand, which is meant to symbolize her strength and honor, her virtus). her opponent is sitting on the floor, upset. what really stands out is that octavia paulina’s parents ordered a common sarcophagus that was usually used to bury boys with athletic interests or futures but then proceeded to have it remodeled — smaller heads and genitalia cut off etc — to include girls in the relief.

i just get very soft when i think about parents ordering a sarcophagus for their little daughter who think it’s perfect for her and who remodel it to make it even more accurate for her. the thought of parents more than 1.700 years ago thinking their six year old daughter deserves a sarcophagus that fits her personality (rather than what was expected of her as a young girl of the time) despite none being available and then ordering for it to be altered makes me wanna scream because it’s such a human and caring thing to do. maybe octavia paulina even had a say in this because it took weeks to months to make a sarcophagus this detailed.

In 2000 a Roman tomb from the first century DC was found in Grottaferrata, near Rome.  Inside there were two sarcofagi in white marble identifying their occupants. Both people had died in summer, albeit years apart from each other, and had been preserved (an unusual detail that suggests they might have been followers of the cult of Isis).  They were mother and son, other inscriptions tell us the tomb had been commissioned by the woman’s younger daughter (the half sister of the man) Antestia Balbina. 

The young man, Carvilio Gemello, was around 18 when he died, likely as a consequence of a bone fracture in his leg. The woman, Aebutia, was around forty forty-five when she died and was buried wearing this ring (now housed in the Palestrina Archeological museum)

Behind the quartz window we can still see the face of Carvilio Gemello engraved in a golden miniature that his mother commissioned. 

In a way, Aebutia and the parents of Octavia Paulina, succeeded in defying death with their acts of love.  After thousands of years we can still see the face of Carvilio Gemello like his mother last saw him, know that Octavia Paulina was an athletic little girl beloved by her family. Life was unkind to both so those who loved them tried to make sure memory wouldn’t be. 

These rare color photos of Paris were taken over 100 years ago. 

In 1909, a wealthy French banker named Albert Kahn wanted to document the world using a new color photo process called Autochrome Lumière, so he commissioned 4 photographers to take their cameras all over the world.

One of the cities they documented was Paris.

Starting in 1914, Kahn’s photographers, Leon Gimpel, Stephane Passet, Georges Chevalier and Auguste Leon, documented life in Paris using color filters made from dyed potato starch grains.

They made these color photos over a century ago (with a small amount of color enhancing done on the original shots).

In addition to the many shots of Paris, around 72,000 Autochromes from around the globe were created through Kahn’s project.

Source

It’s amazing and strange how muchmore real and connected it all feels in colour.

They have a photo of the Moulin Rouge… in rouge.

AUGUST 4th 1914 - BRITAIN JOINS FIRST WORLD WAR

Today, 100 years later, we remember the courage of the men who fought for our country on the home and the fighting fronts (as well as the women who served as medics and munitionettes) and mourn as a nation for the people who lost their lives between 1914 and 1918.

"The lamps are going out all over Europe, we shall not see them lit again in our life-time." - Sir Edward Grey, British Foreign Secretary, 1914

February 6, 1952- King George VI dies in his sleep at Sandringham House, and his 25 year old daughter, Princess Elizabeth, Duchess of Edinburgh, ascends the throne and becomes Queen Elizabeth II 

To 62 Glorious years! 

Sunday 30th January 1972 - Bloody Sunday

The Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association held a march of over 10,000 people in the city of Londonderry in Northern Ireland.  With the introduction of internment in 1971; the British Army imprisoned several thousand people  without trial for suspicion of involvement with the IRA. The vast majority of these people were in fact innocent and very many were Civil Rights Activists. NICRA organised a march in Derry to the Guildhall to stand for the civil rights of Irish Catholics in Northern Ireland.  On that day, the Royal Parachute Regiment opened fire on the marchers. Killing 13 on the day and 1 to later die from his wounds. Seven of the victims were just teenagers.

A week later, on the 6th February a march took place in Newry. It is estimated that over 60,000 people marched.

Never forget those who lost their lives to make the world we live in a better place.

Never forgive, never forget

5th November: a brief(ish) history.

This is Guy Fawkes:

He was a Catholic in 1605, which was a pretty shitty time to be Catholic.

This is Elizabeth I (one of the first HBICs):

She wasn’t big on Catholicism (it generally meant treason, which generally meant death). When she died in 1603 the Catholics thought everything would be rosy with James I on the throne:

They were wrong. He wasn’t big on Catholicism either.

This is Robert Catesby:

(This was a good era for hats. Or bad, depending on your fashion preferences.)

He was a Catholic and he wasn’t taking any more of this shit.

He knew that Guy was an expert with military stuff, so he got him involved with his ‘gunpowder plot’.

This is the gunpowder crew (or some of them):

So they spent 18 months planning and, on 4th November 1605, Guy found himself sat in a cellar under the House of Lords, with 36 barrels of gunpowder.

He was ready to light the fuse the next day, when the King would be there opening the Parliament.

At midnight he was found (so close, yet so far) and ended up on this:

Then after some nice, friendly torture, he was sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered.

He was quite lucky (I would like to point out that I am using the British form of quite, as in ‘fairly’, not the American, as in ‘very’), he jumped from the gallows so broke his neck before the drawing and quartering happened.

Gory details for those of you who want to know (you all love gory details, don’t lie):

Normally the person would be cut down, whilst still alive, and have their testicles chopped off and their guts pulled out, right before their eyes. Then they’d get cut into quarters and sent to each corner of the kingdom, as a warning for the criminally-minded.

So that is why, in the UK, we burn this:

And then have big celebrations like this:

To celebrate that the King didn’t get blown up in 1605.

And also because we like eating hot dogs and toffee, plus we enjoy the general peril of the November weather potentially hindering our standing-outside-in-the-cold-whilst-admiring-fireworks fun. It’s how we get our kicks.

Remember, remember the fifth of November,

Gunpowder, treason and plot…