he grim practice of inflicting torture upon fellow humans has endured throughout history. It has served to punish those who dared to differ: in matters of faith, race, colour, or way of life. Consequently, mankind devised various instruments aimed at increasing physical agony, perpetuating a harrowing cycle of suffering.

Among these implements of torment, the notorious rack stood as a tangible testament to human cruelty. Yet, the descriptions of some devices of torment may have been fabricated to fuel the pervasive myth of medieval Dark Ages.

Across the annals of time, some individuals have employed torture mechanisms to exact vengeance upon their adversaries or those accused of transgressions. Torture has also been wielded as a tool to extract confessions or compel its victims to betray their comrades, despite the well-known fact that such methods fail often to yield reliable information. Even the astute Napoleon Bonaparte recognised its fallibility.

Occasionally, when casting their gaze upon the history’s shadowed realms, some individuals have allowed their minds to wander into realms of imagination, particularly concerning torture. Within the annals of ancient Greek history, some marvelous tales have been bequeathed to the readers by historians. Some of these tales were perhaps never meant to be accepted as literal truth.

Some denizens of the modern era have cast aspersions upon medieval societies, accusing those of employing ghastly implements of torment that, in all likelihood, were mere figments of imagination. Thus, they have unwittingly perpetuated the enduring myth of a supposedly uncivilised epoch known as the Dark Ages. Here is a compendium of infamous torture devices from the tapestry of history, spanning the realms of both reality and legend.

The Brazen Bull: The enigmatic Brazen Bull, an instrument of torture is attributed to Phalaris, a despotic ruler who held sway over a portion of Sicily during the 6th Century BCE. This macabre creation stood as a life-sized sculpture cast in bronze, concealing a dreadful secret within its hollow frame: a diabolical chamber accessible through an exterior door.

With methodical cruelty, the executioner would consign the hapless victim to the metallic beast’s confines, while igniting a blazing inferno beneath its belly. Flames would soon engulf the poor soul, their anguished cries reverberating through an ingenious acoustic mechanism that distorted their torment into eerie bovine bellowing.

The origins of this harrowing tale of Phalaris and the brazen bull are recounted by the Greek historian, Diodorus Siculus, who chronicled these events approximately five centuries removed from their purported occurrence. It is probable that this account, steeped in allegory, represents a fabrication or, at the very least, a heavily adorned narrative. It is worth noting that the renowned Italian poet and philosopher, Dante, too alluded to this myth in his awe-inspiring work, the Inferno.

The Iron Apega: In the pantheon of extraordinary tales surrounding torture devices, none captivates the imagination quite like the legend of the Iron Apega, also renowned as the Apega of Nabis. This fabled contraption, steeped in antiquity, finds mention in the writings of the esteemed Greek historian, Polybius. According to his chronicles, Nabis, the Spartan monarch who reigned from 207 to 192 BCE, ingeniously fashioned a mechanical marvel that bore an uncanny resemblance to his own spouse, Apega. The intricate design unfolded in gripping fashion whenever the indomitable king sought to extract unpaid taxes from recalcitrant individuals.

It is said that Nabis would extend an invitation to such defiant subjects, urging them to embrace his seemingly innocuous wife before directing their gaze toward the automaton. In an ill-fated embrace, the mechanical replica, concealed beneath its garments, would ensnare the unsuspecting victim with its iron hooks, clasping relentlessly until their demise was sealed. Yet, it is worth contemplating the interpretations of learned scholars who posit that Polybius’s account of this tax-collecting tormentor veiled a deeper allegory, casting doubt upon the very existence of the enigmatic Iron Apega.

The Rack: Within the confines of the illustrious Tower of London, a regal stronghold that doubled as a foreboding prison, the nefarious instrument of torment known as the rack held court. Its grim reign commenced during the 15th Century under the watchful eye of the yeoman warders, guardians of the tower’s secrets. These stalwart warders employed the rack’s sinister mechanics, manipulating ropes firmly bound to the wrists and ankles of their victims. With a merciless pull, the human frame would be subjected to a harrowing ordeal, an agonising extension that shattered joints and rent flesh.

Reserved for those accused of treason and religious heresy, the rack became a weapon wielded by the yeoman warders in their relentless pursuit of confessions and the divulgence of accomplices’ identities. Among the annals of infamy, one figure stands etched in history: Anne Askew, a luminary English writer and staunch Protestant preacher. In the year 1546, the yeoman warders subjected her to the unrelenting torment of the rack, beseeching her to betray her fellow believers. Refusing to yield, she braved the unyielding flames of persecution, for officials, bereft of her compliance, consigned her to the fiery pyre. The cruel consequences of the torture she endured rendered her legs feeble, compelling her captors to bear her weight to the site of her ultimate sacrifice.

The Scavenger’s Daughter: During the 16th and 17th Centuries, the yeoman warders, custodians of the Tower of London’s shadowed corridors, added to their repertoire of torment the diabolical contraption known as the Scavenger’s Daughter. This abominable creation manifested as a metallic apparatus designed to impose upon its victims a merciless embrace, crushing their very being.

The Thumbscrew: Emerging as a foreboding instrument of torment in the annals of history, the thumbscrew stands as a relic from Europe’s early modern era (c. 1450-1750). By inserting the hapless victim’s thumbs into its cruel contraption, this malevolent device would tighten its grip with the merciless twist of a screw. In its cruel embrace, torturers sought to exact excruciating pain by crushing digits and appendages.

Much like its dreaded counterpart, the rack, the thumbscrew found purpose in the realms of punishment and extracting confessions, an ominous tool wielded in the pursuit of subjugation. Bestowed with the alternative moniker of “thumbikin,” its name echoed through the corridors of history, with myriad spellings hinting at the dark legacy it bore.

The Pear of Anguish: Cast amidst the shadows of history, the enigmatic pear of anguish assumes the role of a device once perceived by early modern Europeans as a relic of medieval torture. Allegedly, this grotesque contrivance found entry into a person’s mouth or anus, its purpose inflicting unimaginable agony by stretching the orifice beyond measure. Yet, in the hallowed halls of academia, scholars have questioned the veracity of its medieval origins.

Surviving specimens of this so-called pear of anguish reveal the inclusion of coiled springs, an intricate mechanism that betrays its crafters as denizens of the early modern period, an epoch that dawned after the final breaths of the Middle Ages. Within their enigmatic provenance, these specimens invoke uncertainties, raising doubts regarding the efficacy of their intended purpose as instruments of orifice-widening torment.

The Iron Maiden: Shrouded in an aura of uncertainty, the iron maiden emerges as another enigmatic artifact, its origins mired in a fog of falsehoods woven by 19th-Century Europeans who erroneously attributed it to their medieval forebears. This mythical instrument of torture, a haunting vision of an upright iron casket adorned with menacing spikes on its interior, stands bereft of any historical evidence predating the 1800s.

The fabrications surrounding the existence of iron maidens during the Middle Ages were likely propelled by the narratives penned by German philosopher, Johann Philipp Siebenkees, in the waning years of the 18th Century. He recounted a chilling tale of a Nuremberg coin forger who purportedly met his demise in the embrace of such a contraption in the year 1515. However, the truth remains elusive, as the earliest known iron maidens materialised during the 19th Century, eventually finding their way into museum collections, masquerading as vestiges of medieval torment.

The writer is Professor in the faculty of Liberal Arts at the Beaconhouse National University, Lahore