Since its invention, we have employed alcohol to lower our inhibitions—i.e. intentionally weaken our judgement—and we have also sometimes employed it against one another for the very same purpose. The nefarious applications of this were, as might be expected, sometimes found useful in warfare. The 5th century BCE Greek historian Herodotus relates several accounts of leaders who plied their enemies with wine and then massacred them at their most vulnerable, or set traps for enemy forces by feigning retreat and leaving behind sumptuous feasts and, when the oblivious soldiers had fully sated themselves with food and intoxicated themselves with drink, ambushed them. History is full of similar tales and equally predictable fates.
However, one of the oddest variations on this strategy comes from the eastern shores of the Black Sea around 65 BCE in the kingdom of Pontus, ruled at the time by Mithridates VI. Among his allies in the region near Colchis lived a tribe of mountain-dwelling hunter-gatherers called the Heptakometes. Before I move on too quickly, I’d like to take a moment to mourn the loss of a people and lifestyle which clearly made the world a more interesting and richer place. They lived in tree forts and employed a unique battle tactic of hiding silently in the trees and pouncing down from them onto their enemies like tigers. But they had another secret weapon that would thwart Roman general Pompey the Great’s attacking army: honey.
If you enjoy honey, you have probably seen numerous varieties on the shelves: local honey packed with local pollens, specific florals for distinctive flavors, some claiming unique health or healing benefits, others with rare (and expensive) gourmet appeal. But as a beekeeper, I learned early on about something called “mad honey.” Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder recognized and documented what many others had long known: that honey made from the pollen of certain species of plant caused strange hallucinations and other side effects. He called this product meli maenomenon or “mad honey” because of its impairing effects. Some have suggested that mead made from or mixed with this type of honey might have been used in ancient ecstatic religious rites, and today this poison honey is still in demand in some parts of the world for the high it causes and its purported value in folk medicine.
Today we know that certain varieties of rhododendron and related plants produce grayanotoxins that can have severe biological effects on humans and animals when consumed. Farmers have long known to keep horses and cattle away from these plants, or to remove them completely from fields where animals graze because of the danger, not just of consuming their honey, but their flowers and leaves as well. In the eastern Black Sea region and other places where toxic species like Rhododendron ponticum bloom, bees will collect this pollen to make honey. Beekeepers who are aware of this carefully set aside any combs made while the rhododendron (and azalea, oleander, mountain laurel, etc.) bloom to feed back to the bees as their winter food source. When the toxic bloom is over, the bees make safely edible honey again. But it’s not possible to tell the difference just by looking at the honey, as the army of Xenophon discovered the hard way when they marched through the same region in 401 BCE, looted a local village’s beehives, and thousands of men fell violently ill.
Here, generally speaking, there was nothing to excite their wonderment, but the numbers of bee-hives were indeed astonishing, and so were certain properties of the honey. The effect upon the soldiers who tasted the combs was, that they all went for the nonce quite off their heads, and suffered from vomiting and diarrhoea, with a total inability to stand steady on their legs. A small dose produced a condition not unlike violent drunkenness, a large one an attack very like a fit of madness, and some dropped down, apparently at death's door. So they lay, hundreds of them, as if there had been a great defeat, a prey to the cruellest despondency. But the next day, none had died; and almost at the same hour of the day at which they had eaten they recovered their senses, and on the third or fourth day got on their legs again like convalescents after a severe course of medical treatment.
Pompey should have read more history, as Mithridates surely had. To thwart their advance as the Romans pursued, Mithridates feigned retreat. His allies, the Heptakometes, or “people of seven villages,” gathered these poison honeycombs and left them in pots as tribute along Pompey’s route. His soldiers took the bait, and Pompey’s army immediately fell ill with terrible vomiting, diarrhea, incoordination, erratic behavior, and even stupor. With the Roman troops suffering and incapacitated, they became easy pickings for the armies of Mithradates, who defeated all three squadrons while the men were drunk on the mad honey.
Mithridates VI, incidentally, was famous for his fascination with poisons, spending much of his life studying and documenting them, and dosing himself mildly each day to build immunity to their effects. Though he defeated Pompey, his reign was not to last and, not long after, he would try to end his life by suicide with one of his own potions. However, after sharing his own lethal cocktail with his two young daughters, the portion left for himself was not strong enough to kill him because of his resistance, and he was forced to resort to a sword. His untimely and sad end notwithstanding, he was a fascinating, multifaceted character who would contribute a considerable resource to early science. And, though Mithradates was a bit paranoid about poisoning, facing this early toxicologist, perhaps his enemies were not paranoid enough. History provides ample evidence to suggest that our mothers, teachers, and after school specials were right to warn us against getting wasted at parties, taking candy from strangers, and a host of literal and figurative honey pots. In the distant past just as today, the greatest threat is the one you never see coming.
This was fascinating! I never knew about mad honey. And the tragic end to Mithridates life.. wow. I can’t imagine. Great read!