Alexander and the Peach Tree

While I was researching the Persea tree, I often came across the claim that the peach was introduced to Europe by Alexander the Great after he had conquered Persia.

Here is one variation I found when searching Google—the top search result (on 14. July 2016) for “peach tree Alexander the Great”. It’s from the blog Kingsburg Orchards, a peach-grower in California:

“As with many stone fruits, peaches originated in China. It is in the Rosaceae, or Rose, family; genus species Prunus Persica. From China this delectable fruit spread to Persia, where it was widely cultivated. Alexander the Great furthered its spread into Europe - paintings of peaches were even found on the walls of Herculaneum, preserved despite the destruction of Vesuvius.”

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Marion Eugene Ensminger & Audrey H. Ensminger, Foods & Nutrition Encyclopedia, 2nd Edition, CRC Press, 1993, p. 1040.

Another variation also shows up in Wikipedia’s article about the peach. Wikipedia always needs a source, and the source listed is Marion Eugene Ensminger & Audrey H. Ensminger, Foods & Nutrition Encyclopedia, 2nd Edition, CRC Press, 1993, p.1040. It, too, claims Alexander the Great introduced the peach to Europe after conquering the Persians. No ancient source for the claim is given, and none is given anywhere else in the Ensmingers’ Encyclopedia.

I’ve found that this is pretty normal. Nearly every one who mentions this story fails to mention a source. The details of the story can even be gloriously elaborate, but still without a source.

It left me wondering. Let’s say there is a delicious fruit growing in Persia, a place well-known to Greeks before Alexander’s time; and let’s assume the Persians and Greeks almost certainly traded with one another before the time of Alexander. Why wouldn’t the Greeks have known about the peach tree? Were the Persians keeping it from the Greeks out of spite? Did they have border checks to make sure no contraband was smuggled out of the Achaemenid empire? It just made no sense (unless the peach was itself a quite recent import to Persia as well, in which case it might just be a coincidence that Alexander conquered Persia around the same time the peach first shows up in the west).

There is also a pretty plausible explanation for how people might have come up with this story: a confusion of names. In his Inquiry into Plants, Theophrastus discusses a fruit he calls the “Persian apple”, which could easily be confused for a peach if we go only by the name. It seems, however, from his description that it is not a peach, but something more like a citron or lemon (the passage is at Inquiry into Plants 4.4.5). It would not be hard for later writers, however, to confuse the “Persian apple” (again) with the peach, especially if those writers had not seen one or the other of them.

Theophrastus discusses the Persian apple in part of a longer discussion (HP 4.4) about plants native to what he calls “the east and the south”: Persia, India, Arabia, and Africa. In this same discussion, he also talks about Alexander’s “expedition” east, along with many of the plants that were first recorded by Greeks during that expedition.

Someone reading this discussion might think when Theophrastus talks about “the expedition”, he is talking about the whole trip east. But the plants he discusses in relation to the expedition are (as far as I can tell) exclusively plants from India (at 4.4.1, 4.4.5, 4.4.8, 4.4.12, 4.7.8). This makes sense. India was much more remote to fourth-century Greeks than Persia was. Persia, on the other hand, must have been familiar. Persians and Greeks had already fought a few wars by this point, and all the Greek colonies in Anatolia were essentially part of the Persian empire.

It is not surprising that Theophrastus talks about plants from just one part of the expedition, the part to India. They were novel. Persian plants were not.

But if one confuses Theophrastus’ discussion of the Persian apple with what we call the peach, and if the “expedition” is thought to mean any part of Alexander’s expedition east, then the story of Alexander and the peach becomes somewhat understandable.

And in fact I’ve found one place where this confusion shows up explicitly: a paper written by Andrew Dalby called “Alexander’s Culinary Legacy”, published in Cooks and Other People (ed. Walker, Devon: Prospect Books, 1996, pp. 81-93), the proceedings of the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery held in 1995.

The story is so ubiquitous, however, I keep thinking it must have an earlier source. I looked through more ancient writers: Columella (5.10.19), Pliny (15.13, 44-46), Athenaeus of Naucratis (82F-83A), and Gargilius Martialis (394-403 Mai 1828). But there is no mention of Alexander and the peach. I started to think that maybe it was a modern invention, or even a medieval confusion (I haven't looked at any medieval texts yet). 

Then, I came across a history written by a peach grower, Samperi in Italy:

“Peaches arrived in Rome in the first century B.C. as they were brought by the Greeks to the Mediterranean basin. Rutilius Taurus Emiliano Palladio, in the fourth century. A.D. said that Alexander the Great was very impressed by this tree when he saw it in the gardens of King Darius III during his campaign against Persia.”

The first part of this story is right as far as archaeologists can tell. And in the second part, about Alexander, we finally have a source. This Palladius wrote a work on farming, the Opus agriculturae. He probably lived during the late fourth or early fifth century CE, but his precise dates are uncertain. The best evidence for a terminus post quem of c. 370 CE is the honorific title given in the mss. He is called vir inlustris, which first appears in use during the second half of the fourth century (see the Introduction to John Fitch’s Palladius: The Work on Farming and Poem on Grafting, Devon: Prospect Books, 2013, p. 11). He was a knowledgeable farmer, probably a land-owner, and liked fruit-trees. Sounds like a plausible author of such a story.

Except I have not been able to find any mention of Alexander or Darius in the opus agriculturae. 

I wrote to the Samperi orchard to ask if they knew the reference. Within an hour they had written back to say they found him named in the Italian peach entry on Wikipedia, and figured it was accurate; but they took a quick look through Palladius, and could not find the reference, either. We are working on tracking it down.

In the mean time, I found this elegy by Palladius on the peach:

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Owen’s 1807 translation of the elegy. Source: Google Books.

Ipsa suos onerat meliori germine ramos
persicus et pruno scit sociare genus
imponitque leues in stipite phyllidis umbras
et tali discit fortior esse gradu.

Palladius, Rutilius Taurus Aemilianus, Opus agriculturae, Book 14, ll. 94-98 Schmitt (Teubner, 1898).

And a reference to the curious practice of writing inscriptions on peach pits before planting them: 

“The Greeks assert that the peach will grow with writing on it, if you bury the stones and after seven-days, when they begin to open, you take out the kernels and inscribe whatever you want on them with cinnabar.”

Adfirmantibus Graecis persicus scripta nascetur, si ossa eius obruas et post septem dies, ubi patefieri coeperint, apertis his nucleos tollas et his cinnabari, quod libebit, inscribas.

Palladius, Rutilius Taurus Aemilianus, Opus agriculturae, Book 12.7. Translation largely follows Owen’s 1807 (source).

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)

Moving Causes

More trouble with the Definitions...

In On Cohesive Causes, Galen mentions that Athenaeus took over some causal theory from Posidonius, particularly the notion of the synectic or cohesive cause, i.e., the cause responsible for something remaining what it is.

According to Galen, Athenaeus distinguished cohesive causes from two other kinds of causes: preceding (or prohegoumena) causes and antecedent (or prokatarctic) causes. A preceding cause is something internal that over time leads to disease. Examples Galen gives are venom and poison. An antecedent cause is something that gets some process going (On Cohesive Causes 2.3, CMG Suppl. Or. II ed. Lyons p.54). Something like what Aristotle calls an efficient cause.

In the pseudo-Galenic Medical Definitions, we find entries for six kinds of causes, including cohesive, preceding and antecedent causes, as well as an entry for cause in general. In Kühn’s text of the Definitions, Athenaeus’ name appears in definition 155 (XIX 392-3K), the definition of the procatarctic or antecedent cause. Here’s the whole bit from the Definitions on causes:

“154. A cause is that which produces something in the body and is itself incorporeal. Or a cause is, as the philosophers say, what is productive of something or through which something comes to be. Cause is three-fold: there is the antecedent [prokatarctic], preceding [prohegoumenon] and cohesive [synectic].

155. So, an antecedent [prokatarctic] [cause] is that which, having produced the effect, is separate, as the bite [is separate] from the dog, the sting from the scorpion, and the inflammation which produces a fever [is separate from] from the sun. Athenaeus of Attaleia speaks in this way. The agent is a cause, i.e.,  the antecedent [cause]. Otherwise. The antecedent causes are whatever [causes] begin before the result is entirely complete and of which there is nothing preceding.

156. A preceding [prohegoumenon] cause is that which is constructed or co-produced by the antecedent cause and precedes the containing cause. Others in this way. A preceding cause is that which, when it is present, the result is present; when it increases, the result increases;  when it decreases, the result decreases; and when it is removed, the result is removed.

157. A cohesive [synectic] cause is that which, being present, preserves the presence of the disease, but when removed, removes [the disease], as the stone in the bladder; as the hydatid [i.e., a sac filled with fluid unconnected to tissues], as the pterugion [i.e., some kind of obstruction on the eye]; as the enkanthis [i.e., another obstruction of the eye]; [and] as other such things called containing causes, things which the very best physicians [thought] not only [should be placed] in an account of causes, but also [thought were distinct] from settled conditions.

158. A self-complete [autoteles] cause is what produces an end itself by itself.

159. A contributing cause [sunaition] is that which has adequate power with another to produce the result, but it is not being able to produce [the result] on its own power alone.

160. A coöperator [sunergon] is a cause which, when something produces a result but with difficulty, contributes to its more easy generation, not able to produce something on its own.”

[392K] ρνδʹ. Αἴτιόν ἐστιν ὃ ποιοῦν τι ἐν τῷ σώματι καὶ αὐτὸ ἀσώματόν ἐστι. ἢ αἴτιόν ἐστιν, ὡς οἱ φιλόσοφοι λέγουσι, τό τινος ποιητικὸν ἢ δι’ ὅ τι γίνεται. τριπλοῦν δὲ αἴτιον· ἔστι δὲ τὸ μὲν προκαταρκτικὸν, τὸ δὲ προηγούμενον, τὸ δὲ συνεκτικόν.

ρνεʹ. Προκαταρκτικὸν μὲν οὖν ἐστιν ὃ ποιῆσαν τὸ ἀποτέλεσμα κεχώρισται ὡς ὁ δακὼν κύων καὶ ὁ πλήξας σκόρπιος καὶ ἡ ἀπὸ τοῦ ἡλίου ἔγκαυσις ἡ τὸν πυρετὸν ἐργαζομένη. Ἀθήναιος δὲ ὁ Ἀτταλεὺς οὕτω φησίν. αἴτιόν ἐστι τὸ ποιοῦν. τοῦτο δέ ἐστι τὸ προκαταρκτικόν. ἄλλως. τὰ προκαταρκτικὰ αἴτιά ἐστιν ὅσα προκατάρχει τῆς ὅλης συντελείας τοῦ ἀποτελέσματος καὶ ὧν οὐδὲν προηγεῖται.

ρνστʹ. Προηγούμενον αἴτιόν ἐστι τὸ ὑπὸ τοῦ προκαταρκτικοῦ ἤτοι κατασκευαζόμενον ἢ συνεργούμενον καὶ προη-|[393K] γούμενον τοῦ συνεκτικοῦ. οἱ δὲ οὕτως. προηγούμενον αἴτιόν ἐστιν οὗ παρόντος πάρεστι τὸ ἀποτέλεσμα καὶ αὐξομένου αὔξεται καὶ μειουμένου μειοῦται καὶ αἱρουμένου αἱρεῖται.

ρνζʹ. Συνεκτικὸν αἴτιόν ἐστιν ὃ παρὸν μὲν παροῦσαν φυλάττει τὴν νόσον, ἀναιρούμενον δὲ ἀναιρεῖ, ὡς ὁ ἐν τῇ κύστει λίθος, ὡς ὑδάτις, ὡς πτερύγιον, ὡς ἐγκανθὶς, ὡς ἄλλα τοιαῦτα συνεκτικὰ καλούμενα αἴτια, ἅπερ οἱ γενναιότατοι τῶν ἰατρῶν οὐκ ἐν αἰτίων μόνον λόγῳ, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐκ παθημάτων τιθέντων ταῦτα.

 ρνηʹ. Αὐτοτελὲς αἴτιόν ἐστι τὸ αὐτὸ καθ’ αὑτὸ ποιοῦν τέλος.

 ρνθʹ. Συναίτιόν ἐστιν ὃ σὺν ἑτέρῳ δύναμιν ἴσην ἔχον ποιοῦν τὸ ἀποτέλεσμα, αὐτὸ δὲ κατ’ ἰδίαν μόνον οὐ δυνάμενον ποιῆσαι.

 ρξʹ. Συνεργόν ἐστιν αἴτιον ὃ ποιοῦν ἀποτέλεσμα, δυσχερῶς δὲ, συλλαμβάνον πρὸς τὸ ῥᾷον αὐτὸ γενέσθαι, κατ’ἰδίαν τι ποιεῖν οὐ δυνάμενον.

[Galen] Definitiones 154-160, XIX 392-3 K

The phrase attributed to Athenaeus looks like a statement about antecedent causes: they are productive or efficient causes. This claim fits nicely with what Galen says in On Cohesive Causes. He tells us Athenaeus contrasted antecedent causes, causes of change, with cohesive causes, causes of stability.

Oddly, we get a different picture from both the Aldine and and the BL ms. They put Athenaeus’ statement about efficient causes under the definition of the cohesive cause:

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The 1525 Aldine edition of Galen's Definitions (v.4; ὃροι ἰατρικοί., p.13) reports Athenaeus’ definition of the prokatarctic cause under the heading for the “synectic cause.”  From the BIU Santé / Université Paris Déscartes.

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The misplaced definition is found in the 15th c. British Library’s Add ms. 11888 f.9r

What Athenaeus is supposed to have said is the same in the Aldine, BL, and Kühn texts. Still, I can't figure out why someone would have placed it under the definition of the cohesive cause. Is it merely misplaced, as Kühn seems to have thought? Or, did someone think—whoever composed the text followed by Aldus and the BL ms.—Athenaeus identified cohesive and antecedent causes?