The Tale Of King Rodolf’s Oblivious Defeat

A clash between the Lombards and the Heruli occurred sometime between the years 494 and 508 in the middle Danube region. The conflict was noticed by scholarly circles in Constantinople, and the historian Procopius (c. 490-565) made mention of it in his History of the Wars. In addition to Procopius, the Lombard traditional account of the war would later be preserved by Paul the Deacon (c. 720-799) in his History of the Lombards. Both sources detailed the same general outline and outcome in describing the conflict, yet their proposed reasoning for the war and their accounts of the resulting battle differed widely.

In the folkloric account of Paul the Deacon—the more entertaining, but likely less historical version of the story—the conflict between the Lombards and Heruli began with an argument between a man and a woman. According to the tale, Rumetruda, an outspoken daughter of King Tato of the Lombards, decided to invite the brother of King Rodolf of the Heruli over for a drinking party. At the time, the Heruli were a populous and powerful people, known for their military prowess. This reputation for power and might apparently gave Rumetruda a faulty preconception of what a Heruli man looked like. Therefore, when her guest turned out to be quite a short and scrawny fellow, the talkative Rumetruda openly began to belittle the Heruli nobleman. In turn, the outraged guest returned fire at the Lombard princess by criticizing her own looks and behavior. As might be guessed, the drinking party did not turn out well, and, before the end of the event, the Heruli king’s brother was eventually murdered at the instigation of the wrathful Rumetruda. Paul the Deacon claimed that this alleged murder was the cause of the war between the Heruli and the Lombards between 494 and 508, as King Rodolf supposedly attacked the Lombards as soon as he discovered that his brother had been killed.

Paul the Deacon’s account of the war, itself, was as quirky as his account of the war’s origin. In the History of the Lombards, King Rodolf of the Heruli was presented as an incredibly lazy and arrogant king. As had happened with Princess Rumetruda, he placed too much stock on the reputation of might and power that the Heruli people had cultivated. Therefore, when the forces of the Heruli and the Lombards finally clashed in a full-scale battle, King Rodolf was said to have let his army go off without its leader, as it was inconceivable that the renowned Heruli would lose the battle. Instead, according to the tale, King Rodolf chose to stay at his camp and play games with his aides. He did, however, place one observer in a tree, where the person could watch the ongoing battle. Yet, this scout was commanded to only report good news about the fight—negative news, according to the tale, was punishable by death.

As readers may be expecting, this blind confidence and obliviousness did not turn out well for King Rodolf. While the leader of the Heruli supposedly played games in his camp, King Tato of the Lombards personally led his troops on the battlefield and managed the ebb and flow of the fighting masterfully. As the Heruli lines began to bend and break, the scout in the tree continued to call down for his liege a fictitious and glowing account of how the Heruli army was performing. It was only when the Heruli forces were shattered and the Lombards were charging for King Rodolf’s camp that the scout brought himself to tell the king that the battle had been lost. Through indecision or last-minute bravery, King Rodolf reportedly decided to stand his ground in the camp, dying in battle against the victorious Lombards.

In contrast to Lombard tradition, the historian Procopius toned down the drama in his own account of the war between the Lombards and the Heruli. Like Paul the Deacon, Procopius agreed that the Heruli declared war on the Lombards—yet, instead of a scandalous murder being the cause of the conflict, Procopius claimed that King Rodolf simply declared the war to appease his warmongering warriors and to prove his own mettle in battle. The King Rodolf of Procopius’ account did not wait until the end of the battle to stand his ground against the Lombards; instead, Procopius claimed that Rodolf led his forces from the very beginning. Nevertheless, the two accounts end the same way, with the Heruli defeated and King Rodolf lying dead on the battlefield.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Battle of Stamford Bridge painted by Peter Nicolai Arbo  (1831–1892), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.
• History of the Wars by Procopius, translated by H. B. Dewing. Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1919. 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Heruli 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Procopius-Byzantine-historian  

Lombard Ancient Psychological Warfare

According to early Lombard tradition and ancient Roman scholarly observations, the Lombards were few in number compared to many of their neighbors in Germania. The Romans apparently attributed the survival of the vulnerable Lombards to sheer aggression. Tacitus (c. 56-117+) wrote that the Lombard population was “distinguished by the fewness of their numbers. Ringed round as they are by many mighty peoples, they find safety not in obsequiousness, but in battle and its perils” (Germania, section 40). When the Lombards began writing down their own history, they agreed with the Romans that their tribe had originally been small in manpower, but aggressive in foreign policy. The Lombard sources, however, also claimed that they had a talent that helped them survive in their early days—psychological warfare.

The Lombard people, according to their tradition, migrated from Scandinavia to the Elbe River sometime before Roman scholars took interest in Germania. When the Lombards entered their new homeland, powerful tribes in the region reportedly attempted to extort tribute from the newcomers. Aggression and war, as the Romans observed, was the usual Lombard response to such foreign threats. Yet, as the Lombards were at a disadvantage in numbers, they had to be smart in planning how they fought.

According to the Origo Gentis Langobardorum and Paul the Deacon’s History of the Lombards, the tribe resorted to trickery and illusion in their very first conflict with a more populous neighbor on the Elbe. In the mythology-infused tale, the Lombard army was saved from certain defeat when they heeded the advice of the Norse-Germanic goddess, Freyja, who insisted that Lombard women accompany their men into battle. The women reportedly arranged their hair around their chins to look like long beards, and their appearance in the army made the force look much more populous. In the tale, the god, Odin, was greatly shocked by these “Long-beards” (supposedly the origin of the Lombard name), and if the All-Father of the Norse-Germanic pantheon was amazed, there is no knowing how disheartened the foes of the Lombards became when the disguised women marched into battle. Whether from divine favor or through the psychological effect of the women joining the army, the Lombards were said to have emerged victorious in that battle.

Later, when the Lombards were roaming toward a different section of the Elbe, a tribe reportedly called the Assipitti was said to have mobilized its forces to stop the migrants. As in the earlier conflict, the Lombards were again outnumbered and would need to be clever in order to survive. They resorted once again to psychological warfare, this time focusing on spreading disinformation and causing fear. As before, one step of the plan was to make the enemy think that the Lombard forces were much more numerous than was actually true. To do this, the Lombards reportedly spread out their tents wider than usual and also kindled a great number of cooking fires in their camp. Next, information was fed to the Assipitti that the Lombards had monstrous dog-headed creatures fighting on their side. Paul the Deacon described this interesting scheme:

“They pretend that they have in their camps Cynocephali, that is, men with dogs’ heads. They spread the rumor among the enemy that these men wage war obstinately, drink human blood and quaff their own gore if they cannot reach the foe” (History of the Lombards, Book I, chapter 11).

As the story goes, the Assipitti hesitated after hearing rumors about the monstrous dog-men and seeing the Lombard camp with its many fires. In the end, the numerically-superior Assipitti reportedly decided to avoid the Lombard forces, and let them pass by unobstructed. This early Lombard talent of overcoming powerful foes through persistence and clever tricks no doubt helped them survive until they could strengthen themselves by growing their own numbers, making allies, and absorbing conquered tribes.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (14th-century image of Cynocephali from the Kievan Psalter, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Agricola and Germania by Tacitus and translated by Harold Mattingly and revised by J. B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.
• History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.  

The Hairy Origin Myth Of The Lombard Name

The Lombards were a northern Germanic people who, according to tradition, originated from Scandinavia and eventually migrated to the Elba River region. According to The History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon (c. 720-799), the tribe originally called themselves the Winnili, and when they reached the Elbe, they were confronted by other regional powers who gave the new arrivals an ultimatum of either paying tribute or facing war. The Winnili, despite being few in number compared to their neighbors, did not shy from war—a trait later recognized by the Romans. Instead of paying tribute, the early Winnili reportedly chose war.

As told in folklore and myth, the Lombard name originated in this period of war in the Elbe region. According to the Origo Gentis Langobardum and the aforementioned work of Paul the Deacon, the Winnili were soon confronted by a group called the Wandals. These foes are sometimes identified as the Vandals, and other times connected to the Wends—whatever the case the tale soon becomes swamped in myth, and the identity of the so-called Wandals makes little difference, at least for this story.

The Wandals, whomever they may have been, were reportedly devout followers of the Germanic god, Wotan (i.e. Odin). Wotan, according to myth, returned the affection and often answered their prayers. The goddess Frea (Freyja), on the other hand, favored the newly-arrived Winnili. Therefore, when the Winnili and Wandals went to war, so too did Wotan and Frea, entering into a Homer-esque battle of wits in the realm of the gods.

According to the tale, the Wandals called on Wotan’s support when they knew that a battle was imminent. Responding to their plea, Wotan promised victory to the first army he saw at sunrise. Although the god’s decree looks fairly unbiased at first glance, his favoritism was betrayed when it was only the Wandal army that was informed of the pledge. Furthermore, Wotan made sure to keep his head facing toward the Wandals before he went to sleep for the night.

Although Wotan went to his slumber expecting to give victory to the Wandals in the morning, Frea had another outcome in mind. While Wotan slept, Frea visited the Winnili camp and told them of the divine decree—or, at least, she advised them to mobilize their forces before sunrise. The Winnili, however, were still small in number, so to make the group more visible and eye-catching, Frea told the Winnili women to accompany their men into battle. The goddess further instructed the women to gather their lengthy hair around their chins in order to make their locks look like long beards. With this plan in place, Frea returned to Wotan. Yet, the goddess took one last step before dawn arrived. Silently and gently, Frea rotated Wotan’s bed to face the direction of the Winnili. To ensure that her favored people emerged victorious, Frea made sure to wake up Wotan just as the Winnili were amassing in the morning light. When the awakening god opened his eyes, the Winnili masses, with all their hair, were the first people that he saw. According to the Origo Gentis Langobardorum, the scene played out in the following way:

“And he, looking at them, saw the Winniles and their women having their hair let down around the face. And he says, ‘Who are these Long-beards?’ And Frea said to Godan [Wotan], ‘As you have given them a name, give them also the victory.’ And he gave them the victory, so that they should defend themselves according to his counsel and obtain the victory. From that time the Winniles were called Langobards.” (Origo Gentis Langobardorum, I, trans. William Foulke)

As the myth colorfully illustrates, the early medieval Lombards believed their name derived from facial hair. Other etymologies have been suggested, but the long-beard origin of the Lombards remains a fan-favorite. Whatever the case, the tribe had embraced their new name by the time the Romans began taking notes on Germania. Rome found the Lombards still in the Elbe region, calling them the Langobardi, and classified them as being part of a larger group called the Suebi. Despite their battle prowess and Frea’s support, the Lombards had, by then, become subject to the Marcomanni. Around 17 CE, they rebelled against Maroboduus of the Marcomanni and became a politically-influential force in the region. Around the 5th century, the Lombards migrated to the Danube, then to Pannonia. Finally, around 568, the Lombards invaded Italy to form the Kingdom of Lombardy, which survived until its destruction at the hands of Charlemagne in 774.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Depiction of King Alboin entering Pavia, illustrated by Charles F. Horne c. 1900, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996. 
• Agricola and Germania by Tacitus and translated by Harold Mattingly and revised by J. B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009. 
• History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003. 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Lombard-people 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Lombards/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Suebi  

The Dramatic And Deadly Marriage Of King Alboin Of Lombardy To Rosamund

Alboin became king of the Germanic Lombards in the first half of the 560s and, although he is less well known than the Franks and the Eastern Romans, Alboin was a major player in the late 6th century. Warfare would be the area in which this Lombard king excelled, but he also knew his way around diplomacy. Alboin managed to gain a prestigious marriage to the Frankish princess, Clothsind, daughter of King Chlotar (d. 561) of the Franks. He also was able to maintain a working relationship with the disruptive Avars.

The Lombards had a bitter rivalry with a people known as the Gepids, or Gepidae, who lived around the region of Hungary. In command of the Gepids at that time was a certain King Cunimund, who had the powerful, but unenthusiastic, support of the emperors of Constantinople. For convoluted and obscure reasons, war soon broke out between Alboin and Cunimund around 566. The conflict seems to have played out in two wars, or perhaps two phases of a single war. In the first war or phase, the Lombards gained an advantage against the Gepids, but the threat of an intervention from Emperor Justin II of Constantinople (r. 565-578) brought the two sides to a truce.

By this point, the Lombard king’s first wife, Clothsind, had died and a marriage between Alboin and Cunimund’s daughter, Rosamund, was floated as a means to keep the peace. Yet, the proposal was refused and Alboin may have even kidnapped Rosamund. The subsequent second phase, or second war, was much more destructive—King Alboin called in the Avars to assist him in the war, whereas the ineffective emperor, Justin II, provided little help to the Gepids. Whatever the actual reasons and timeline of the war, all accounts of the conflict between the Lombards and Gepids ended in the same bloody conclusion: King Cunimund was slain and his kingdom was conquered by 567. Sources differ on which army, the Lombards or the Avars, finally killed the king of the Gepids, but Alboin eventually obtained a gruesome souvenir from the person of the late King Cunimund. The 8th-century writer, Paul the Deacon, claimed it was the Lombards who dealt the fatal blow and wrote, “Alboin killed Cunimund, and made out of his head, which he carried off, a drinking goblet” (History of the Lombards, Book I, chapter 27). This skull goblet apparently became something of a Lombard national heirloom, for Paul the Deacon claimed to have seen it with his own eyes: “Lest this should seem impossible to anyone, I speak the truth in Christ. I saw king Ratchis holding this cup in his hand on a certain festal day to show it to his guests” (History of the Lombards, Book II, chapter 28).

With the Gepids defeated, Rosamund, the daughter of the slain king, fell into the hands of Alboin. Despite his killing of her father and turning his head into a cup, King Alboin made the questionable decision to force Rosamund to be his bride. Amazingly, the awkward newlyweds were able to coexist for several years—this was likely made easier by the distraction caused by the huge expedition that was undertaken by King Alboin and his people not long after the marriage. In 568, the Lombard king and his followers packed their bags and invaded Italy en masse. The forces of the aforementioned ineffective emperor, Justin II, were not prepared to face Alboin’s invasion, and, by 572, the Lombards had conquered much of Italy. The Lombard king settled his court in the city of Verona, and it was there that Rosamund finally reached her breaking point. Paul the Deacon described the alleged moment that threw the couple’s strained coexistence out of balance:

“While he [King Alboin] sat in merriment at a banquet at Verona longer than was proper, with the cup which he had made of the head of his father-in-law, king Cunimund, he ordered it to be given to the queen to drink wine, and he invited her to drink merrily with her father…. Then Rosemund, when she heard the thing, conceived in her heart deep anguish she could not restrain, and straightway she burned to revenge the death of her father by the murder of her husband, and presently she formed a plan with Helmechis who was the king’s squire” (History of the Lombards, Book II, chapter 28).

As the final line of the lengthy quote hints, Rosamund had some supporters and sympathizers in the court at Verona who were willing to conspire with her against the king. The sources differ on exactly which method she chose, but they all end in Alboin’s death. Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), in his History of the Franks, claimed that Rosamund and a servant gave the king a fatal dose of poison. Paul the Deacon, however, painted a more gruesome scene. According to Paul’s account, Rosamund sabotaged Alboin’s sword and let in an assassin while the king slept. Alboin, however, woke up before the assassin could strike. He grasped his sword, but, because of Rosamund’s sabotage, could not draw the blade from its sheath. Alboin then grabbed a foot-stool as a last resort and fended off the assassin’s attacks for a time before he was ultimately dealt a death blow and succumbed to the wound.

Although Gregory of Tours and Paul the Deacon disagreed of the method of Albion’s death, they both concurred that the king was indeed killed around 572 and that Rosamund was the ringleader of the conspiracy. Curiously, they also believed that Rosamund was romantically involved with one or more of her conspirators. According to Paul the Deacon, Rosamund and the aforementioned Helmechis were later married and attempted to lay claim to the kingdom of the Lombards. When this move was rejected by the Lombard nobles, Rosamund and her new husband fled to Ravenna—they brought with them Albusinda, a daughter of the late King Alboin by his first wife, and they also took as much of the Lombard treasury as they could carry. Their choice of Constantinople-controlled Ravenna as their sanctuary has led many scholars to believe that the assassination of King Alboin had imperial backing.

Unfortunately, Rosamund and Helmechis did not live happily ever after. Both Gregory of Tours and Paul the Deacon claimed that the two met unnatural ends, yet, as before, their accounts differed on the fine details of their demise. In Gregory’s telling of events, Rosamund and her accomplice were captured and executed by an unnamed foe, but the Lombards are inferred from the context the passage. Paul the Deacon, however, claimed that Rosamund and Helmechis eventually poisoned each other, and Constantinople seized Princess Albusinda and the Lombard treasury after their deaths.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Rosamund forced to drink from the skull of her father, by Pietro della Vecchia (1602 1603–1678), [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://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044037773413;view=1up;seq=137
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Alboin
• https://www.ancient.eu/Alboin/
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/religion/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/justin-ii-byzantine-emperor
• https://www.livius.org/articles/person/justin-ii/
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Justin-II