Creative Historians
In-Class Caesar Essay:
Quinn Haughey (10/25/11)
Julius Caesar, Heroic Tyrant or Tyrannical Hero?
Julius Caesar was born around 100 B.C. He died March 15, 44 B.C. He did a lot of good things in his lifetime. He also did a lot of bad things. Historians have yet to decide whether he was a hero who deserves total recognition or a tyrant and should be wiped from the memory of the world. I believe that even though Caesar wanted to improve the empire for the people, he went mad with his power.
Caesar wanted to make Rome a good place to live. In the document packet on page 3, it says: “Julius Caesar had changed the nature of the Roman empire, he had swept away the old, corrupt system of he late Roman republic and had set an example to future Roman emperors as well as other future European leaders to live up to.” Before Caesar came to power Rome was a republic, and “Under the republic, elected officials used their positions to get rich”(pg. 6 doc packet). Then Caesar came along and got rid of the corrupt system of the republic and made himself dictator so he could fix the system and make a better one. He reorganized the army and improved the way provinces were governed. Because of this he was well liked by the people and “when Julius Caesar said he had something to say, the people flocked to the Forum to hear his ideas.”(pg. 6). The people liked him because he promised to fix the things that the government had caused and was choosing to ignore. Caesar had good ideas and was smart. This is probably how he got so much power. The question is; what did he do with that power?
Caesar used his power for his own benefit. Once he got a taste of power he wanted more. When he was just getting started in politics, he worked with Crassus and Pompey and brought them together, as long as they got him consul. The he went to Gaul and conquered land there and made himself governor. But when the senate revoked his governor status he got angry. On page six it says “One of the laws of the Twelve Tables was that no general could enter the city with his army. Julius Caesar ignored this law. In 49 B.C. he entered Rome with the Roman Legion, and took over the government.” He then made himself dictator and went off to take care of his enemies. When he got back he made himself “Dictator in Perpetuo”. On page 8 its says, “Although carefully avoiding the title “rex”, Caesar attempted to collect for himself all facts of constitutional authority, serving at the same time as dictator, as consul as Pontifex Maximus, and Plebeian Tribune for life. In early 44 B.C. he declared himself DICTATOR IN PERPETUO (actually inscribed on his coins).”
Caesar had good things in his heart but he misused his power and was never satisfied with the amount of power he had and always wanted more. I think that Caesar is a lot like Obama because people are arguing whether he is doing good things for this country or he is taking this country to the ground. A lot like Caesar except lets just hope nobody tries to murder him.
Caesar Seminar Reflection
Quinn Haughey (11/11/11)
Caesar Seminar Reflection
1. What did you do well during this seminar?
This seminar I think I did well on connecting to big ideas and helping people who didn’t get to talk much get something to say.
2. If you could go back a couple of days, what could you have done differently to help you improve your seminar performance?
If I could have gone back a couple of days I would have found more quotes from the book to quote during seminar. I think this would have helped because my arguments would have been more convincing because I would have the book to back me up.
3. What was one thing someone else said in the discussion that you found interesting. React to that comment.
When Heidi said that people liked Shakespeare because the language was so beautiful. I think that she is right because our language right now is deteriorating so much in modern society that people read Shakespeare because they get tired of all of the stupid language we speak today and want to hear the complex language of Shakespeare.
4. What can you learn from Shakespeare to help you write your own historical fiction?
I think that I can learn how to develop characters to make the story more interesting. I also think I can learn how to make the story interesting by using sentence structure to make the story flow.
Caesar Seminar Reflection
1. What did you do well during this seminar?
This seminar I think I did well on connecting to big ideas and helping people who didn’t get to talk much get something to say.
2. If you could go back a couple of days, what could you have done differently to help you improve your seminar performance?
If I could have gone back a couple of days I would have found more quotes from the book to quote during seminar. I think this would have helped because my arguments would have been more convincing because I would have the book to back me up.
3. What was one thing someone else said in the discussion that you found interesting. React to that comment.
When Heidi said that people liked Shakespeare because the language was so beautiful. I think that she is right because our language right now is deteriorating so much in modern society that people read Shakespeare because they get tired of all of the stupid language we speak today and want to hear the complex language of Shakespeare.
4. What can you learn from Shakespeare to help you write your own historical fiction?
I think that I can learn how to develop characters to make the story more interesting. I also think I can learn how to make the story interesting by using sentence structure to make the story flow.
Creative Historians Story
A King's Follies
“My son, I am near the end.”
“No father! It is not so!”
“You must take the throne after I am gone.”
“But do you think that I can follow in your footsteps?”
“I think you are fully capable of leading this great nation.”
“Thank you father.”
“Now, bring me some wine.”
“But father, you are –”
“I SAID BRING ME WINE!”
“Yes father.”
I retrieve the wine from the servant at the door, pouring it into a cup. I tip the cup up to the dry, cracked lips of my father.
“Is that better?” I say.
“Yes. Much better. In fact, I think I will take a walk.”
“Are you sure? You do not think you should wait for the doctors to make sure it is ok in your condition?”
“No, I think I still have a few years left in me.”
That means my plans for conquering Egypt will be worthless, I thought. My contacts are expecting my father to die and me becoming king by the end of next moon. Wait, I have an idea…
“Father, you should rest for a moment.”
“No, I will go for a walk.”
“All right, just lay back down. I will go get your cane. “I walk over to the far wall of the bedroom, retrieving the cane leaning upon the wall there. “Here is your cane father,” I say as I walk back to the bed, handing him his cane. “Let me help you up,” I say as I offer him my hand.
“Thank you son,” he says. I just need to reach the knife I keep under my robes without my father noticing. As I grab his right arm with my left, I slide the knife from my belt. In one quick motion, I bury the knife up to the hilt in my father’s chest, saying, “I am sorry father, but I cannot let you get in the way of the success of Babylonia!”
A Few Years Later…
“My wife is about to die and all you care about is whether I will sign that stupid peace treaty!” I yelled hysterically at the messenger from Egypt. “Tell them that I will talk with them at a later date, as I am otherwise engaged at the moment.” I tell him. He nods and scurries away. I turn back to my bedroom, bracing myself for what I will see inside. “How are you feeling, honey?” I tentatively ask.
“No better than yesterday, nor than the day before, nor than the day before that. You know what I miss most about Media? My father’s gardens. The plants there are so lush and green. Not like here. Here everything dies before it has the chance to flower. Its just so dry here,” she says. I don’t really want to go back to her home country; her father and I aren’t exactly the best of buds at the moment. And besides the trip there and back might do more harm than good. Wait, what if we brought Media here? Not the whole thing of course, just the parts she really likes. What if I built this huge garden, with the plants from her home? Made it the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. That might just cure her. I will need many slaves to do the job…
Twenty-Three Years Later…
“Who is the new slave collector?” I say as I walk to the palace garden with Arcluk.
“His name is Akki,” he replies, “He shows a lot of potential.”
We walk along in silence for a time, and then I ask, “How many slaves have they brought back today? Quite a few died last week, work on the Gardens is slowing down.”
“Oh, a fair amount, I believe. Ah, here we are.”
I walk along the line of slaves, examining what tasks they will be most suited for. One young slave, a boy of about ten, looks me straight in the eye. He seems to have a spark in his eyes that the others don’t. This startles me because usually the slaves look beaten down, defeated. “What do you want?” I say. He just stared at me. “I said; what do you want?” He just looks at me, and then, in an act of defiance, he hocks a big ole loogie onto my face.
“You’ll pay for that you dirty rotten filthy– ”
“That’s enough, Akki. I will handle this myself. I’ll just need your whip, thank you.” Akki hands me his whip, never taking his eyes off the slave. “Now slave, let’s play a game, shall we? I ask you question, and for every wrong answer you will get a reminder of our meeting here today. Now let’s start with an easy one. Who is the current king of Babylonia?” I ask.
“You are,” he grumbles. “That’s right. Now this next one is a bit trickier. What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?” I ask, with a hint of a smile, as I am sure he won’t get this one. “I’ve no idea,” he says in an incredulous voice. My whip cracks through the air like a clap of thunder, followed by the cry of pain from the slave. “The correct answer was 42. Now, on to the next question. What is the purpose of a slave?” I say. He replies almost instantly, in a very flat voice, “Somebody to serve his master faithfully without pay or proper rights.” “Very good,” I say, “Now as your master, how must you treat me?”
“With the utmost respect.”
“Good. Now, keeping that in mind, go to the Gardens of Babylon and start work there.”
A Few Days Later…
“It has been a week since my personal servant, Rihat, died. I have to confess, my life has become a whole lot more disorganized and cluttered. I need another person to help me,” I confess to Arcluk. “What if you didn’t have one person, but many people to help you?” he says thoughtfully. “Hmm, you do have a point there. Then I can just use slaves. Now, where are the slaves most concentrated?” I ask. “At the Gardens, your Highness,” he replies. “You are my childhood friend, you need not bother with pleasantries with me. So, to the Gardens we go,” I say.
I watch my beautiful city go by as I trundle along in my caravan. As we are approaching the Gardens I hear a resounding roar, getting louder as we get nearer. When we get there, the shouting is like the roar of the wind during a hurricane and the loud clap of thunder during a storm put together. I can barely hear Arcluk when he shouts, “I am going to go look for slaves.”
“Alright,” I answer. Soon we have loaded the slaves and have turned around and are going back to the palace.
A Few Years Later…
“Baheesh! Run and grab the doctor, for I think that Amytis is about to give birth!” I shout as my wife gripped my hand so hard it felt as though it was going to break. “It will be okay, just breathe slowly,” I whisper soothingly into my wife’s ear. I doubt she can hear me; her mind is clouded with pain. I can see it in her eyes. It is at times like these when I am glad I am a man and not a woman. If only the doctor would return. Ah! There he is, I can here him running. “It’s all right, the doctor will take good care of you and the baby.” I assure my wife. “Now that he is here I need to retire to the bathroom for a few moments.” I say to her. “Give her a little extra something to lessen the pain, doctor, and my mind will be greatly eased.” I whisper to that doctor as I pass him. When I return I see everybody crowded around my wife, congratulating her. I run over and see that my wife has given birth to a beautiful baby boy.
“What should we call him?” she asks, her eyes glowing as if lit by a hundred lanterns.
“I have always wanted a son named Amel-Marduk.” I say.
“Then Amel-Marduk he is,” she replies, smiling up at me.
Twenty Years Later…
Today I think I will go see how the work on the Gardens is coming along and to visit with Akki, the slave trader that brought Baheesh to me. I get there and see Akki. I go over to talk to him.
“Hello Akki,” I say, “how have you been?”
“I have been doing well. How is Baheesh?”
He is doing well. He was promoted to be my personal servant along with a lot of other kids his age. He is the only one left.”
“What happened to the other kids?”
“They either died or were reassigned to other places. I think it might have disturbed him. He has been sneaking out of the palace quite a lot lately.”
“Really? Do you know where he goes?”
“No I do not. Now I have some business to attend to. I am glad we got to talk.”
“I am too, your highness. Long may you live.”
“And you too,” I say as I go back to the palace.
A Few Days Later…
Where is he? It has been three weeks since his last message. He said he was about to return home with news of how the battle went. Oh I do hope Amel-Marduk is all right. If only Baheesh were here, he could cheer me up. Thinking of, where is Baheesh, the only personal servant that has stayed by my side after all of these years? I haven’t seen him all week. Him sneaking away at night is normal, but he has never failed to show up in the morning. I guess I have been too preoccupied with the battle in Egypt to notice his absence. Who could be knocking?
“Enter!” I say. It is Baheesh! “Where have you been? What’s that you’ve got behind your back?” I ask. That’s when he pulls the sword from behind his back and stabs me through the heart.
“How could you do this to me?” I struggle to say as blood is gushing out of my mouth and dribbling down my robes like a waterfall.
“It is time for the weak to overpower the strong, the poor overcome the rich. Goodbye Nebuchadnezzar.” he says as I see my son break down the door behind him.
“No father! It is not so!”
“You must take the throne after I am gone.”
“But do you think that I can follow in your footsteps?”
“I think you are fully capable of leading this great nation.”
“Thank you father.”
“Now, bring me some wine.”
“But father, you are –”
“I SAID BRING ME WINE!”
“Yes father.”
I retrieve the wine from the servant at the door, pouring it into a cup. I tip the cup up to the dry, cracked lips of my father.
“Is that better?” I say.
“Yes. Much better. In fact, I think I will take a walk.”
“Are you sure? You do not think you should wait for the doctors to make sure it is ok in your condition?”
“No, I think I still have a few years left in me.”
That means my plans for conquering Egypt will be worthless, I thought. My contacts are expecting my father to die and me becoming king by the end of next moon. Wait, I have an idea…
“Father, you should rest for a moment.”
“No, I will go for a walk.”
“All right, just lay back down. I will go get your cane. “I walk over to the far wall of the bedroom, retrieving the cane leaning upon the wall there. “Here is your cane father,” I say as I walk back to the bed, handing him his cane. “Let me help you up,” I say as I offer him my hand.
“Thank you son,” he says. I just need to reach the knife I keep under my robes without my father noticing. As I grab his right arm with my left, I slide the knife from my belt. In one quick motion, I bury the knife up to the hilt in my father’s chest, saying, “I am sorry father, but I cannot let you get in the way of the success of Babylonia!”
A Few Years Later…
“My wife is about to die and all you care about is whether I will sign that stupid peace treaty!” I yelled hysterically at the messenger from Egypt. “Tell them that I will talk with them at a later date, as I am otherwise engaged at the moment.” I tell him. He nods and scurries away. I turn back to my bedroom, bracing myself for what I will see inside. “How are you feeling, honey?” I tentatively ask.
“No better than yesterday, nor than the day before, nor than the day before that. You know what I miss most about Media? My father’s gardens. The plants there are so lush and green. Not like here. Here everything dies before it has the chance to flower. Its just so dry here,” she says. I don’t really want to go back to her home country; her father and I aren’t exactly the best of buds at the moment. And besides the trip there and back might do more harm than good. Wait, what if we brought Media here? Not the whole thing of course, just the parts she really likes. What if I built this huge garden, with the plants from her home? Made it the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. That might just cure her. I will need many slaves to do the job…
Twenty-Three Years Later…
“Who is the new slave collector?” I say as I walk to the palace garden with Arcluk.
“His name is Akki,” he replies, “He shows a lot of potential.”
We walk along in silence for a time, and then I ask, “How many slaves have they brought back today? Quite a few died last week, work on the Gardens is slowing down.”
“Oh, a fair amount, I believe. Ah, here we are.”
I walk along the line of slaves, examining what tasks they will be most suited for. One young slave, a boy of about ten, looks me straight in the eye. He seems to have a spark in his eyes that the others don’t. This startles me because usually the slaves look beaten down, defeated. “What do you want?” I say. He just stared at me. “I said; what do you want?” He just looks at me, and then, in an act of defiance, he hocks a big ole loogie onto my face.
“You’ll pay for that you dirty rotten filthy– ”
“That’s enough, Akki. I will handle this myself. I’ll just need your whip, thank you.” Akki hands me his whip, never taking his eyes off the slave. “Now slave, let’s play a game, shall we? I ask you question, and for every wrong answer you will get a reminder of our meeting here today. Now let’s start with an easy one. Who is the current king of Babylonia?” I ask.
“You are,” he grumbles. “That’s right. Now this next one is a bit trickier. What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?” I ask, with a hint of a smile, as I am sure he won’t get this one. “I’ve no idea,” he says in an incredulous voice. My whip cracks through the air like a clap of thunder, followed by the cry of pain from the slave. “The correct answer was 42. Now, on to the next question. What is the purpose of a slave?” I say. He replies almost instantly, in a very flat voice, “Somebody to serve his master faithfully without pay or proper rights.” “Very good,” I say, “Now as your master, how must you treat me?”
“With the utmost respect.”
“Good. Now, keeping that in mind, go to the Gardens of Babylon and start work there.”
A Few Days Later…
“It has been a week since my personal servant, Rihat, died. I have to confess, my life has become a whole lot more disorganized and cluttered. I need another person to help me,” I confess to Arcluk. “What if you didn’t have one person, but many people to help you?” he says thoughtfully. “Hmm, you do have a point there. Then I can just use slaves. Now, where are the slaves most concentrated?” I ask. “At the Gardens, your Highness,” he replies. “You are my childhood friend, you need not bother with pleasantries with me. So, to the Gardens we go,” I say.
I watch my beautiful city go by as I trundle along in my caravan. As we are approaching the Gardens I hear a resounding roar, getting louder as we get nearer. When we get there, the shouting is like the roar of the wind during a hurricane and the loud clap of thunder during a storm put together. I can barely hear Arcluk when he shouts, “I am going to go look for slaves.”
“Alright,” I answer. Soon we have loaded the slaves and have turned around and are going back to the palace.
A Few Years Later…
“Baheesh! Run and grab the doctor, for I think that Amytis is about to give birth!” I shout as my wife gripped my hand so hard it felt as though it was going to break. “It will be okay, just breathe slowly,” I whisper soothingly into my wife’s ear. I doubt she can hear me; her mind is clouded with pain. I can see it in her eyes. It is at times like these when I am glad I am a man and not a woman. If only the doctor would return. Ah! There he is, I can here him running. “It’s all right, the doctor will take good care of you and the baby.” I assure my wife. “Now that he is here I need to retire to the bathroom for a few moments.” I say to her. “Give her a little extra something to lessen the pain, doctor, and my mind will be greatly eased.” I whisper to that doctor as I pass him. When I return I see everybody crowded around my wife, congratulating her. I run over and see that my wife has given birth to a beautiful baby boy.
“What should we call him?” she asks, her eyes glowing as if lit by a hundred lanterns.
“I have always wanted a son named Amel-Marduk.” I say.
“Then Amel-Marduk he is,” she replies, smiling up at me.
Twenty Years Later…
Today I think I will go see how the work on the Gardens is coming along and to visit with Akki, the slave trader that brought Baheesh to me. I get there and see Akki. I go over to talk to him.
“Hello Akki,” I say, “how have you been?”
“I have been doing well. How is Baheesh?”
He is doing well. He was promoted to be my personal servant along with a lot of other kids his age. He is the only one left.”
“What happened to the other kids?”
“They either died or were reassigned to other places. I think it might have disturbed him. He has been sneaking out of the palace quite a lot lately.”
“Really? Do you know where he goes?”
“No I do not. Now I have some business to attend to. I am glad we got to talk.”
“I am too, your highness. Long may you live.”
“And you too,” I say as I go back to the palace.
A Few Days Later…
Where is he? It has been three weeks since his last message. He said he was about to return home with news of how the battle went. Oh I do hope Amel-Marduk is all right. If only Baheesh were here, he could cheer me up. Thinking of, where is Baheesh, the only personal servant that has stayed by my side after all of these years? I haven’t seen him all week. Him sneaking away at night is normal, but he has never failed to show up in the morning. I guess I have been too preoccupied with the battle in Egypt to notice his absence. Who could be knocking?
“Enter!” I say. It is Baheesh! “Where have you been? What’s that you’ve got behind your back?” I ask. That’s when he pulls the sword from behind his back and stabs me through the heart.
“How could you do this to me?” I struggle to say as blood is gushing out of my mouth and dribbling down my robes like a waterfall.
“It is time for the weak to overpower the strong, the poor overcome the rich. Goodbye Nebuchadnezzar.” he says as I see my son break down the door behind him.