History Stuff

History Matters

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picturesofwar:

This day in history:

The Auschwitz camp complex and its remaining prisoners are liberated by Soviet forces.  

Less than two weeks before liberation the complex had been evacuated by prison guards who took around 60,000 prisoners away on the death marches to avoid the approaching Red Army.  The prisoners were marched for 35 miles (56 km), put on trains, and sent to various other camps.  One fourth of the prisoners died on the way to the trains.

Upon liberation only around six or seven thousand prisoners remained in the complex; they were judged either too sick or too weak to march and left behind by the prison guards.

January 27, 1945 - 67 years ago today.

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America’s First True “Pilgrims”
An excerpt from Kenneth C. Davis’s book

St. Augustine, Florida — September 1565 It was a storm-dark night in late summer as Admiral Pedro Menéndez  pressed his army of 500 infantrymen up Florida’s Atlantic Coast with a  Crusader’s fervor. Lashed by hurricane winds and sheets of driving rain,  these 16th-century Spanish shock troops slogged through the tropical  downpour in their heavy armor, carrying pikes, broadswords and the  “harquebus,” a primitive, front-loading musket which had been used with  devastating effect by the conquistador armies of Cortés and Pizarro in  Mexico and Peru. Each man also carried a twelve-pound sack of bread and a  bottle of wine.
Guided by friendly Timucuan tribesmen, the Spanish assault force had  spent two difficult days negotiating the treacherous 38-mile trek from  St. Augustine, their recently established settlement further down the  coast. Slowed by knee-deep muck that sucked at their boots, they had  been forced to cross rain-swollen rivers, home to the man-eating  monsters and flying fish of legend. Wet, tired and miserable, they were  far from home in a land that had completely swallowed two previous  Spanish armies—conquistadors who themselves had been conquered by  tropical diseases, starvation and hostile native warriors.
But Admiral Menéndez was undeterred. Far more at home on sea than  leading infantry, Admiral Menéndez drove his men with such ferocity  because he was gambling—throwing the dice that he could reach the enemy  before they struck him. His objective was the French settlement of Fort  Caroline, France’s first foothold in the Americas, located near  present-day Jacksonville, on what the French called the River of May. On  this pitch-black night, the small, triangular, wood-palisaded fort was  occupied by a few hundred men, women and children. They were France’s  first colonists in the New World—and the true first “Pilgrims” in  America.
Attacking before dawn on September 20, 1565 with the frenzy of holy  warriors, the Spanish easily overwhelmed Fort Caroline. With information  provided by a French turncoat, the battle-tested Spanish soldiers used  ladders to quickly mount the fort’s wooden walls. Inside the settlement,  the sleeping Frenchmen—most of them farmers or laborers rather than  soldiers—were caught off-guard, convinced that no attack could possibly  come in the midst of such a terrible storm. But they had fatally  miscalculated. The veteran Spanish harquebusiers swept in on  the nightshirted and naked Frenchmen who leapt from their beds and  grabbed futilely for weapons. Their attempts to mount any real defense  were hopeless. The battle lasted less than an hour.
Although some of the French defenders managed to escape the carnage,  132 soldiers and civilians were killed in the fighting in the small  fort. The Spanish suffered no losses and only a single man was wounded.  The forty or so French survivors fortunate enough to reach the safety of  some boats anchored nearby, watched helplessly as Spanish soldiers  flicked the eyeballs of the French dead with the points of their  daggers. The shaken survivors then scuttled one of their boats and  sailed the other two back to France.
The handful of Fort Caroline’s defenders who were not lucky enough to  escape were quickly rounded up by the Spanish. About fifty women and  children were also taken captive, later to be shipped to Puerto Rico.  The men were hung without hesitation. Above the dead men, the victorious  Admiral Menéndez placed a sign reading, “I do this, not as to  Frenchmen, but as to Lutherans.” Renaming the captured French settlement  San Mateo (St. Matthew) and its river San Juan (St. John’s), Menéndez  later reported to Spain’s King Philip II that he had taken care of the  “evil Lutheran sect.”

America’s First True “Pilgrims”

An excerpt from Kenneth C. Davis’s book

St. Augustine, Florida — September 1565
It was a storm-dark night in late summer as Admiral Pedro Menéndez pressed his army of 500 infantrymen up Florida’s Atlantic Coast with a Crusader’s fervor. Lashed by hurricane winds and sheets of driving rain, these 16th-century Spanish shock troops slogged through the tropical downpour in their heavy armor, carrying pikes, broadswords and the “harquebus,” a primitive, front-loading musket which had been used with devastating effect by the conquistador armies of Cortés and Pizarro in Mexico and Peru. Each man also carried a twelve-pound sack of bread and a bottle of wine.

Guided by friendly Timucuan tribesmen, the Spanish assault force had spent two difficult days negotiating the treacherous 38-mile trek from St. Augustine, their recently established settlement further down the coast. Slowed by knee-deep muck that sucked at their boots, they had been forced to cross rain-swollen rivers, home to the man-eating monsters and flying fish of legend. Wet, tired and miserable, they were far from home in a land that had completely swallowed two previous Spanish armies—conquistadors who themselves had been conquered by tropical diseases, starvation and hostile native warriors.

But Admiral Menéndez was undeterred. Far more at home on sea than leading infantry, Admiral Menéndez drove his men with such ferocity because he was gambling—throwing the dice that he could reach the enemy before they struck him. His objective was the French settlement of Fort Caroline, France’s first foothold in the Americas, located near present-day Jacksonville, on what the French called the River of May. On this pitch-black night, the small, triangular, wood-palisaded fort was occupied by a few hundred men, women and children. They were France’s first colonists in the New World—and the true first “Pilgrims” in America.

Attacking before dawn on September 20, 1565 with the frenzy of holy warriors, the Spanish easily overwhelmed Fort Caroline. With information provided by a French turncoat, the battle-tested Spanish soldiers used ladders to quickly mount the fort’s wooden walls. Inside the settlement, the sleeping Frenchmen—most of them farmers or laborers rather than soldiers—were caught off-guard, convinced that no attack could possibly come in the midst of such a terrible storm. But they had fatally miscalculated. The veteran Spanish harquebusiers swept in on the nightshirted and naked Frenchmen who leapt from their beds and grabbed futilely for weapons. Their attempts to mount any real defense were hopeless. The battle lasted less than an hour.

Although some of the French defenders managed to escape the carnage, 132 soldiers and civilians were killed in the fighting in the small fort. The Spanish suffered no losses and only a single man was wounded. The forty or so French survivors fortunate enough to reach the safety of some boats anchored nearby, watched helplessly as Spanish soldiers flicked the eyeballs of the French dead with the points of their daggers. The shaken survivors then scuttled one of their boats and sailed the other two back to France.

The handful of Fort Caroline’s defenders who were not lucky enough to escape were quickly rounded up by the Spanish. About fifty women and children were also taken captive, later to be shipped to Puerto Rico. The men were hung without hesitation. Above the dead men, the victorious Admiral Menéndez placed a sign reading, “I do this, not as to Frenchmen, but as to Lutherans.” Renaming the captured French settlement San Mateo (St. Matthew) and its river San Juan (St. John’s), Menéndez later reported to Spain’s King Philip II that he had taken care of the “evil Lutheran sect.”

521 notes

radicaltraditionalism:

The Ellesmere Canterbury Tales manuscript, page from ‘A Knight’s Tale’.

It is funny my first thought when seeing this was Chaucer, but then I thought no, but I think the image of him is also from that manuscript.

radicaltraditionalism:

The Ellesmere Canterbury Tales manuscript, page from ‘A Knight’s Tale’.

It is funny my first thought when seeing this was Chaucer, but then I thought no, but I think the image of him is also from that manuscript.

(via tudor-rose)

28 notes

China’s tomb raiders laying waste to thousands of years of history

archaeologicalnews:

China’s extraordinary historical treasures are under threat from increasingly aggressive and sophisticated tomb raiders, who destroy precious archaeological evidence as they swipe irreplaceable relics.

The thieves use dynamite and even bulldozers to break into the deepest chambers – and night vision goggles and oxygen canisters to search them. The artefacts they take are often sold on within days to international dealers.

Police have already stepped up their campaign against the criminals and the government is devoting extra resources to protecting sites and tracing offenders. This year it set up a national information centre to tackle such crimes.

Tomb theft is a global problem that has gone on for centuries. But the sheer scope of China’s heritage – with thousands of sites, many of them in remote locations – poses a particular challenge. Read more.

94 notes

arsvitaest:

silezukuk:

Archivo fotográfico Casasola, Augusto César Sandino, 1929

Augusto Nicolás Calderón Sandino (1895–1934), better known as Augusto César Sandino, was a Nicaraguan revolutionary and leader of a rebellion against the U.S. military occupation of Nicaragua between 1927 and 1933. He was labeled a bandit by the United States government, and his exploits made him a hero throughout much of Latin America, where he became a symbol of resistance to United States domination. Drawing units of the United States Marine Corps into an undeclared guerrilla war, his guerrilla organization suffered many defeats, but he successfully evaded capture. United States troops withdrew from the country after overseeing the inauguration of President Juan Bautista Sacasa. Sandino was assassinated in 1934 by General Anastasio Somoza García, who went on to seize power in a coup d’état two years later, establishing a family dynasty that would rule Nicaragua for over forty years. Sandino’s legacy was claimed by the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN), which overthrew the Somoza government in 1979.

arsvitaest:

silezukuk:

Archivo fotográfico Casasola, Augusto César Sandino, 1929

Augusto Nicolás Calderón Sandino (1895–1934), better known as Augusto César Sandino, was a Nicaraguan revolutionary and leader of a rebellion against the U.S. military occupation of Nicaragua between 1927 and 1933. He was labeled a bandit by the United States government, and his exploits made him a hero throughout much of Latin America, where he became a symbol of resistance to United States domination. Drawing units of the United States Marine Corps into an undeclared guerrilla war, his guerrilla organization suffered many defeats, but he successfully evaded capture. United States troops withdrew from the country after overseeing the inauguration of President Juan Bautista Sacasa. Sandino was assassinated in 1934 by General Anastasio Somoza García, who went on to seize power in a coup d’état two years later, establishing a family dynasty that would rule Nicaragua for over forty years. Sandino’s legacy was claimed by the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN), which overthrew the Somoza government in 1979.

(via jbe200)