The Peculiar Gift-Giving Habits Of Cyrus The Younger

Cyrus the Younger (c. 423-401 BCE) was the powerful and ambitious son of King Darius II (r. 423-404 BCE) of Persia. Despite Cyrus’ youth, King Darius II entrusted him with governing the regions of Lydia, Cappadocia and Phrygia in 408 or 407 BCE. Once appointed, Cyrus helped the Peloponnesians win the Peloponnesian War against Athens (ended 404 BCE), and he later raised an army in 401 BCE for an unsuccessful rebellion against his brother, King Artaxerxes II (r. 404-358 BCE). Cyrus was killed in the resulting battle against his brother at Cunaxa, Babylonia, and two historians (Xenophon and Ctesias) were present to record the event from the viewpoints of both sides of the conflict.

Cyrus seems to have been the type of person who was either loved or hated and accounts about him by his contemporary peers reflect that divide. Ctesias, a Greek man who hailed from the Anatolian city of Cnidus, was a doctor for Artaxerxes II, as well as a historian of Persia and India. He unflatteringly described Cyrus the Younger as a disloyal and treasonous villain. On the other side of the spectrum, the historian and philosopher Xenophon, who served as a mercenary in Cyrus’ army, glowingly portrayed the rebel prince as a just and generous man who would do anything for his friends.

It is in Xenophon’s list of Cyrus’ noble qualities that we discover one of the late prince’s intriguing habits. Cyrus the Younger was reportedly an incessant gift-giver. While many of his gifts were the usual presents of money, gilded weaponry or fine clothing, Cyrus’ closest friends could expect to receive less-commonplace gifts arriving on their doorstep. Apparently, if Cyrus had a particularly delightful meal, he had an interesting habit of sending out leftovers from his table to close friends, and a personal letter or message from the prince often accompanied such deliveries. According to Xenophon, you never knew what the prince might randomly send—an already-opened bottle of fine wine, a half-eaten portion of goose, and even a chunk from a loaf of bread were listed by Xenophon as being sent by Cyrus the Younger to various friends. The letters accompanying the delivered morsels reportedly read something like, “Cyrus enjoyed this, and he would like you to have a taste of it too” or “Cyrus has not come across a nicer wine than this for a long time, so he has sent it to you with the request that you drink it up today along with your best friends” (Xenophon, Anabasis Kyrou, Book I, chapter 9). Xenophon, unfortunately, did not mention if the recipients of these royal table-scraps found the gifts entertaining or condescending.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Esther Denouncing Haman, painted by Ernest Normand (1857–1923), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Cyrus-the-Younger 
• https://www.livius.org/articles/person/cyrus-the-younger/ 
• http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/cyrus-vi-younger 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Xenophon 
• https://www.ancient.eu/xenophon/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ctesias  

Quintus Fabius Pictor, Rome’s First Historian, Wrote Centuries After The Greeks Pioneered The Field Of History

Tradition held that the kingdom of Rome was founded in the mid-8th century BCE. In fact, archaeologists believe permanent settlement in the region of Rome began as early as 1000 BCE. Yet, the 8th century was indeed a time when the primitive Roman town was becoming a wealthy city with growing power and influence. By the 7th century BCE, Rome had also become fairly literate and the city urbanized enough to officially be labeled as a city-state around 625 BCE. The combination of pride in the growing city, and the rise of literacy, undoubtedly led some Romans to start preserving stories of past events and people through spoken language (such as poetry, plays and eulogies) and these sorts of remembrances were later recorded in writing. During the 5th century BCE, after Rome had become a republic, even more useful documents about Roman events and people were being produced, such as the Fasti (Rome’s list of governing consuls) and the Annales maximi, a reported 80-book chronicle of Roman leaders and miscellaneous events. Yet, despite such vocal and tangible sources being available, it took a remarkably long time for Rome to produce a native historian who was willing to pull together the various sources into a narrative.

Greek scholarly pioneers of the 5th century BCE, such as Herodotus and Thucydides, ushered in the field of history. Neither Herodotus nor Thucydides specifically mentioned Rome, but they did, however, sometimes digress into commenting on events in Italy and they both mentioned the Etruscans. Yet, other less known 5th-century Greek writers did mention Rome—Hellanicus of Lesbos and Damastes of Sigeum interestingly wrote that Rome was where Aeneas built a new life after the Trojan War, a myth that Romans would full-heartedly endorse. Other than the link to Aeneas, however, Greeks of the 5th century BCE seemed uninterested in the history of Rome.

Things began to change in the 4th century BCE. The Gallic sack of Rome around 390 BCE and the subsequent Roman wars to regain power in the region caught the attention of Greek observers. The Gallic sack of Rome, alone, was mentioned by at least three 4th-century Greek scholars: Theopompus, Heraclides Ponticus, and the famous Aristotle. Yet, it was Rome’s actions in the 3rd century—featuring the Third Samnite War, the Pyrrhic War, and the beginning of the Punic Wars—when Greeks truly began craving information on those curious Romans in Italy. Greek historians such as Hieronymus of Cardia, Timaeus of Tauromenium, and (decades later) Polybius, answered that new historical demand.

Interestingly, even though Greek historians of the 3rd century BCE were beginning to delve into Roman topics, the city of Rome, itself, still had not reportedly produced a single historian. Nevertheless, a Roman senator living in the second half of the 3rd century was about to lead the way in making the topic of the past become a new scholarly passion in Rome. His name was Quintus Fabius Pictor and he reportedly published the first native Roman History around 200 BCE, just before or after Rome achieved victory in the Second Punic War.

Unfortunately, little is known about Pictor and his text, which is now lost to us. We do know that he was a senator and that he considered himself a statesman first and a historian second. As he was a member of Rome’s governing body, it is unsurprising to learn that his text was largely designed to inspire patriotism and nationalistic fervor in his Roman readers. Yet, his work was not all bad. He reportedly formatted his history like the works of historians from Greece, and Pictor even chose Greek as the language for his book. Even though Pictor’s history was by no means a masterpiece, it was the icebreaker that got Romans writing about their past. Not long after Pictor, Quintus Ennius (c. 239-169 BCE) published a curious Latin poem, called the Annales, which traced Roman history down to the Punic Wars in verse. After Ennius, came Cato the Elder (c. 234-148 BCE), whose 7-book Origines was the first Roman history in Latin prose.

Unfortunately, by the age of Pictor, Ennius and Cato, the Roman Republic was already centuries old, not to mention the pre-Republic period of kings in Rome. Although oral history, monuments, and old records from government archives and temples could provide information such as leader names, military conquests, natural disasters and diplomatic agreements, the late-arriving Roman historians had little historical context with which to weave the bullet points of miscellaneous information together. Yet, weave it together they did, narrating the story of the birth of Rome and the founding of the Republic through an intriguing patchwork of history, folklore and myth.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (King Numa and the Nymph Egeria, painted by    Felice Giani  (1758–1823), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
• The Beginnings of Rome by T. J. Cornell. New York: Routledge, 1995.
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Roman-Republic 

The Dramatic Love Life Of Lady Nao

Many ancient Chinese consorts and concubines in the courts of emperors and kings undoubtedly led dramatic lives, but few women shared the bizarre experiences of Lady Nao. While most concubines spent a lifetime jostling with rival women in the harem of a single ruler, Lady Nao became a favored concubine of at least three different kings. What made Lady Nao’s life even more dramatic, however, was that the three kings she served were all closely related.

Little is known of Lady Nao’s origin, but she eventually became a concubine of King Liu Fei, a son of Emperor Jing, who was appointed first as the ruler of Runan, then Jiangdu, from around 155 to 129 BCE. Liu Fei was an accomplished general and when he was not flexing his muscles on the battlefield, he could be found planning the construction of new palaces and towers in his kingdom. During his reign, Lady Nao steadily worked her way up the ranks of the palace women, eventually becoming Liu Fei’s favorite concubine sometime before the king’s death around 129 BCE.

Evidently, Lady Nao was not only favored by the late King Liu Fei, but also by his heir, Liu Qian. Said to have been a man of wicked character, Liu Qian reportedly began his reign by dragging Lady Nao into scandal. The historian Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE) wrote, “He [Liu Qian] had also developed a great liking for his father’s favorite concubine, Lady Nao; after his father died, but before the funeral had even taken place, he sent someone at night to fetch Lady Nao and had relations with her in the mourning quarters where he was staying” (Shi Ji, 59). King Liu Qian kept Lady Nao as a concubine, and once again she became one of the king’s favorite palace women. Yet, Liu Qian’s reign quickly descended into madness and he was accused of all sorts of misdeeds. From nefarious magic, to incest and treasonous plotting, there were few crimes that were not pinned on Liu Qian. The scandalous king eventually committed suicide around 122 BCE, when agents of Emperor Wu arrived in his kingdom to investigate the charges.

Sometime after the suicide of Liu Qian, Lady Nao was invited to the court of a third king, Liu Pengzu of Zhao. Awkwardly, he was the half-brother of Liu Fei and an uncle of Liu Qian. Nevertheless, the long-lived King Liu Pengzu reportedly treated Lady Nao with great affection and gave her some much-needed stability. Liu Pengzu continued to rule until around 100 BCE or later, and no further information was recorded about Lady Nao while she remained in his kingdom.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Woman from a depiction of Qingming in peace, c. Ming dynasty (1368–1644), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

The Tale of Macliau of Brittany

As far as a Frankish observer such as Gregory of Tours could tell, there were three dominant dynasties that ruled Brittany in the mid 6th century. The Franks disparagingly called these Briton noblemen “counts,” but the leaders of Brittany likely considered themselves independent kings. Whatever the case, Gregory of Tours was able to identify three figureheads ruling rival bases of power in the region of Brittany. Two men, named Budic II and Conomor, were each said to rule a personal domain. Additionally, a set of five brothers shared power in a third region of Brittany. Politics in these rival domains ebbed and flowed like the tide, with regions sometimes working together and other times engaging in war. In addition, there could be internal strife and plotting—a problem that particularly plagued the aforementioned five brothers.

According to Gregory of Tours, one of the five brothers, named Canao, was determined to seize for himself all of the power held by his siblings. His great ambition was dangerously matched with a ruthless propensity toward bloodshed.  Canao reportedly killed three of his four siblings through warfare or assassination and imprisoned his final brother, Macliau, in a well-guarded dungeon. Canao was supposedly on the verge of having Macliau executed when Saint Felix, the bishop of Nantes, intervened and convinced Canao to spare Macliau’s life. Not long after the brother’s release, however, Canao regretted his decision—or perhaps Macliau began plotting a revolt. Whatever the case, Canao reportedly began a manhunt for his brother, and Macliau was forced to flee. In order to escape the reach of his murderous kinsman, Macliau sought shelter in the domain of Conomor, the ruler of one of the other regions of Brittany that was outside of Canao’s sphere of influence.

Macliau eventually joined the church and reportedly became the bishop of Vannes. Yet, although he had taken holy vows, he never stopped watching for opportunities to arise in the politics of Brittany. His chance came around the year 570, when news of Canao’s death reached Vannes. Seizing the moment, Macliau quickly abandoned his religious duties (earning him an excommunication from the church) and rushed off to take control of his family’s domain. Gregory of Tours did not mention if there was any resistance to Macliau’s return, or if he had to fight off any claimants to his land. Gregory did, however, record that Macliau managed to form a powerful alliance with Budic II, one of the other significant figures in Brittany.

Although the alliance between Macliau and Budic was strong and mutually beneficial, relations between the two domains of Brittany quickly broke down after Budic’s death. Macliau reportedly swore that he would support Budic’s heir, Tewdwr (Budic’s son or grandson), yet as soon as the succession crisis began following his late ally’s passing, Macliau invaded the region and drove Tewdwr into hiding. After an unknown period of time, Tewdwr reemerged with an army and faced Macliau on the battlefield around the year 577. It was an overwhelming victory for Tewdwr, and he succeeded in killing both Macliau and his eldest son, Jacob, during the fateful battle. After killing his rival, Tewdwr reclaimed his family’s domain and made peace with Macliau’s remaining son, Waroch—a man who would go on to become a dominant leader in Brittany over the next decades.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Painting of King Clovis in battle, by Ary Scheffer (1795–1858), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• https://www.historyfiles.co.uk/KingListsBritain/ArmoricaBroErech.htm 
• http://www.earlybritishkingdoms.com/articles/bretart.html 
• http://www.earlybritishkingdoms.com/bios/tewdwmph.html 
• http://www.earlybritishkingdoms.com/bios/budic2by.html  

The Dawn Sea Battle At Syme After A Surprise Storm

The Athenian expedition to Sicily was destroyed in 413 BCE, leaving Athens militarily weakened and extremely demoralized. Sparta and its Peloponnesian allies hoped to exploit Athens’ moment of vulnerability by sending out Peloponnesian fleets and armies to inspire revolts among cities in the Athenian Empire. The Peloponnesians, encouraged by Persian support, first began by promising aid to cities in or around Ionia, including Miletus, Clazomenae, Mitylene and Cnidus, as well as islands such as Chios, Lesbos and eventually Rhodes. A Spartan admiral (nauarch) named Astyochus was appointed as supreme commander of the Peloponnesian naval forces and tasked with organizing the new overseas operations. Unfortunately, he quickly proved himself to be the stereotypical slow and overcautious Spartan. Although Sparta received a line of eager ambassadors from cities ready to rebel against Athens, Admiral Astyochus seemed unwilling or unable to intercept Athenian fleets heading toward Ionia or to adequately protect the rebel cities when the Athenian forces arrived to crush the rebellions.

Eventually, Sparta appointed a council of eleven officers to advise (and, if needed, overthrow) the sluggish admiral. If the council agreed unanimously, they had the power to remove Astyochus from office. These officers set sail for Ionia independently from the rest of the Peloponnesian fleet and eventually anchored at the city of Caunus. Interestingly, it was while Astyochus was sailing with his fleet of sixty-seven ships along the coast of Anatolia to meet with this oversight counsel that the admiral won one of his few victories at sea.

After raiding Cos and then stopping by the allied city of Cnidus, Astyochus learned that a fleet of twenty Athenian ships was patrolling through the islands off the coast of southwest Anatolia, searching for the Spartans officers who had just sailed to Caunus. Astyochus, upon hearing this news, decided to sail with his fleet into a dark and cloudy night, reportedly in hopes of catching the Athenians by surprise. Yet, a skeptic might also say he wanted to avoid his enemies in the cloudy darkness. Whatever the case, Astyochus continued on his journey and sailed toward the island of Syme in the middle of the night. During this nighttime journey, the clouds condensed into a storm and scattered Astyochus’ fleet. The separated ships became lost in the darkness, and, by morning, several fragments of the Peloponnesian fleet found themselves alone in the sea.

As luck would have it, the Athenian patrol happened to also reach Syme that very morning. The Athenians spotted a small group of Peloponnesian ships and, not seeing any other hostile vessels close by, decided to immediately attack. Yet, the storm had not scattered the Peloponnesian fleet too far apart. When the sounds of sailors shouting and hulls clashing began to emanate from Syme, the other individual ships of the Peloponnesian fleet began making their way toward the noise of battle. Astyochus’ scattered sailors closed in on Syme from all directions, eventually surrounding the horrified Athenians in a tightening ring of hulls. As more and more of the sixty-seven Peloponnesian ships arrived at the site of the battle, the Athenians decided it was time to detach themselves from the fray and sail away. The majority of the Athenians did successfully flee, but six ships were lost during the battle or in the escape.

After his unplanned victory at Syme, Astyochus met up with his council of advisors at Caunus and continued on with his overcautious methods at sea. As more and more rebel cities fell or faced difficulties in the absence of effective aid, the Peloponnesian forces began to grow ever more mutinous toward their admiral. Astyochus was removed from his command before the end of 411 BCE and replaced with Mindarus.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (19th-century depiction of the Athenian Navy from the Peloponnesian War, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book VIII) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972. 
• http://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-893

Ancient Greeks Had A Very Voluptuous Style Of Drinking Cup

Anyone who has glanced through a gallery of ancient Greek art will know that nude figures were a popular theme that spanned multiple fields of artistry. From statues, to paintings, to coins and pottery, the nude (or partially-nude) profiles of men and women decorated it all. Ancient potters were especially creative in adorning their works with naked figures, painting them around the outsides, and, sometimes on the insides, of their products. Depending on the clientele, these pottery artworks could be quite risqué. Eventually, ancient Greek potters decided to show their love of the human anatomy by not only painting naked figures on the surfaces of their works, but by also shaping the pottery, itself, to look like a well-loved part of the female body—the breast.

Cue the mastos. It was similar in design to a skyphos or a mastoid cup—these were all tall cups or bowls with handles that protruded outward from up near the top of the vessel. Mastoid bowls and skyphoi also had somewhat conical shapes, but these vessels ended in a pragmatic footed base, which would give it stability if placed on a table. The mastos, however, sacrificed pragmatism for artistic design. Instead of having a footed base, most mastoi had a voluptuous shape and usually was graced underneath with a pointy nipple-like end. The majority of mastoi were created in the black-figure style (popular c. 7th-6th century BCE), but some mastoi in the white-ground style (common in the 5th century BCE) have also been discovered.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Attic Greek mastos (side 1 and 2), c. 520 BCE, by the potter Psiax, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• https://www.ancient.eu/article/489/a-visual-glossary-of-greek-pottery/
• https://www.beazley.ox.ac.uk/tools/pottery/techniques/decoration.htm 
• https://www.beazley.ox.ac.uk/tools/pottery/shapes/skyphos.htm 
• https://www.brown.edu/Departments/Joukowsky_Institute/courses/fooddrinkclassicalantiquity/9257.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/art/black-figure-pottery  

The Sister-Wives Of King Chlotar I

Scholars have long debated the specific label for the marriage structure used by some of the kings of the Merovingian Dynasty. In his History of the Franks, Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594) accused several Merovingian kings of practicing polygyny, the act of keeping multiple wives at the same time. Yet, Gregory’s religious biases and motivations make many scholars hesitant to take his insinuations of morally controversial issues, such as polygyny, at face value, especially in regard to figures that did not meet Gregory’s approval. In cases of kings who were regarded as wicked, some believe Gregory may have compressed the timeline of events or introduced wives into the narrative earlier than is proper, so that the subjects of his history seemed all the more immoral. As such, some have re-categorized the multi-women relationships of the Merovingian kings as not polygyny, but concubinage or simply extra-marital affairs. Nomenclature aside, many of the Merovingian kings were indeed openly comfortable with having multiple intimate women in their lives.

One of the kings Gregory accused of being in a polygynous marriage was King Chlotar I (r. 511-561). During his lifetime, King Chlotar was said to have had at least five wives: Guntheuc, Radegund, Ingund, Aregund and Chunsina. Chlotar had affairs with other women, but only the five above were described as his wives in Gregory of Tours’ account. The king had no known children with Guntheuc or Radegund, but he did have eight offspring by his other three wives. Ingund had the most fruitful relationship with the king, and six of Chlotar’s eight children came from her alone. Chlotar’s marriage to Guntheuc (his brother’s widow) was short-lived and mainly for political and economic gain. His marriage to Radegund (c. 531 or 532) was similarly brief—she was a prisoner of war and abandoned him as quickly as possible to become a nun until her death in 587. As for Chunsina, very little information is known of her other than that she had one son with the king. Queens Ingund and Aregund, however, had a very unique relationship and it was allegedly Ingund who directed Chlotar to begin courting Aregund.

In a bawdy tale, Gregory of Tours claimed that Ingund had been married to Chlotar for a while when she suddenly made an interesting request of her husband. Ingund told Chlotar that she had a sister in the palace that was unmarried. Just as the king could reward the family of his favorite vassals with land and titles, Ingund hoped the king would award her sister with an honorable and prestigious marriage. As the story goes, the king agreed to look into the matter and began pondering over who would be a good match for Ingund’s sister. As King Chlotar was said to have been an incredibly lusty man, Gregory of Tours wrote a particularly lecherous quote for the king’s response to Ingund’s request. According to Gregory of Tours, Chlotar said “I have looked everywhere for a wealthy and wise husband whom I could marry to your sister, but I could find no one more eligible than myself.” (History of the Franks, Book IV, section 3). Queen Ingund, according to Gregory’s account, received this answer with surprising calm and she ultimately gave Chlotar her blessing to go marry the sister—Queen Aregund.

As can be expected, there is debate whether Ingund and Aregund were truly queens at the same time, or if Chlotar married Aregund only after Ingund’s death. Whatever the case, King Chlotar did indeed marry both of the sisters during his lifetime and they both bore him children.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Depiction of Chilperic I (543-97) and Fredegonde on Horseback, from the Grandes Chroniques de France, Fol.31r, c. 1375-79 (vellum). Bibliotheque Municipale, Castres, France, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Chlotar-I 
• https://brill.com/view/book/9789004294660/B9789004294660_007.xml?crawler=true 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/St-Radegunda 
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/women/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/ingunde-fl-517 
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/women/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/aregunde 
• https://www.thoughtco.com/merovingian-frankish-queens-3529712 
• https://www.ancient-origins.net/news-history-archaeology/researchers-unlock-mystery-mummified-lung-merovingian-queen-005744  

The Odd Frankish Siege of Saragossa

In 541 or 542, the Frankish co-kings Chlotar (r. 511-561) and Childebert (r. 511-558) crossed the Pyrenees and invaded the Visigothic Kingdom in Spain. The 6th-century bishop and historian, Gregory of Tours, highly embellished his account of the campaign, stating, “they succeeded in conquering a large part of Spain and they returned to Gaul with immense booty” (History of the Franks, Book III, section 29). In truth, the Frankish incursion into Spain turned out to be little more than a glorified raid. Nevertheless, the Franks did reach at least as far as the city of Saragossa, and it was there that Childebert and Chlotar reportedly witnessed a bizarre sight that left them stunned.

As the Franks neared Saragossa, the invading army found themselves anchored to the ground in shock and bewilderment by a powerful display of sight and sound emanating from the city. According to Gregory of Tours, the people of Saragossa had decided to call on God’s aid against the Franks and their method for inspiring divine intervention was apparently to flock en masse to the outskirts of the city and embark on a parade of desperate holy supplication. Consequently, when the Franks arrived on the scene, they were met with the peculiar sight of the population of Saragossa marching around their city walls while dressed in black clothes and hairshirts (rough and itchy garments worn for self-punishment). The darkly-clad mass of bodies was reportedly unkempt in appearance, and many of the city dwellers went a step further by smearing their faces with ashes. When they were not weeping, wailing or pleading toward the heavens, the people marching around Saragossa also spent time singing psalms and hymns. At the head of the parade, curiously enough, was a tunic that the worshippers were handling with great veneration. Despite the self-punishing hairshirts, the faces covered in ashes, and the soulfully sung hymns, it was the tunic that seemed to give the city the greatest sense of hope.

According to Gregory of Tours, Kings Chlotar and Childebert had an odd first assessment of what they were witnessing. He wrote, “as they watched them march round the walls they imagined that it was some curious kind of black magic” (History of the Franks, Book III, section 29). Yet, this first assumption was apparently erased when they captured a local peasant, who told the Franks that the people of Saragossa were not crying out to the Devil, but to God. From the same captive, the Franks also learned that the peculiar tunic which was hoisted with such reverence by the inhabitants of Saragossa was none other than the holy dalmatic vestments of St. Vincent (d. 304), a martyr from the persecutions of Emperor Diocletian.

The Franks, at least according to Bishop Gregory of Tours, were more afraid of St. Vincent’s tunic than of witchcraft or sorcery. Gregory ended his account of the siege of Saragossa by misleadingly stating, “This [St. Vincent’s tunic] scared the troops and they withdrew from the city” (History of the Franks, Book III, section 29). The Franks did eventually leave Spain, but not before seizing the holy tunic of St. Vincent for themselves and bringing it back to France as plunder. King Childebert brought it to Paris and enshrined it in the church that would come to be known as Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Miniature from the Chronicle of Aegidius Li Musis in the Library of Brussels, c.1349, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Chlotar-I 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Childebert-I 
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/reference/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/childebert-i 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Merovingian-dynasty 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theudis 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Spain/Iberians#ref587114 
• https://www.ancient.eu/visigoth/ 
• http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/15434b.htm