Laurentius, The Second Archbishop Of Canterbury, Supposedly Was Whipped Into Action By The Long-Dead Apostle Peter

In 604, Laurentius (also known as Laurence) became the second archbishop of Canterbury. When he took his prestigious position, the future of the Catholic Church in Britain must have looked bright—two major kings, Æthelbert (or Ethelbert) of Kent and Saberht of Essex, had converted to Christianity, supporting and protecting the religion in their realms.

Yet, twelve years later, Laurentius’ worst nightmares became reality. In 616, both Æthelbert and Saberht died simultaneously. Even worse, the heirs to their kingdoms were all pagans. Adding insult to injury, the new king in Kent even married his own stepmother, which was against the rules of the church. As Catholicism in Kent and Essex began to be flooded by “heathen” pressure, many of Laurentius’ bishops decided to flee from Britain and return to France. Some of the most skilled churchmen quickly left the country, including Melitus and Justus, the future third and fourth archbishops of Canterbury.

Laurentius, himself, apparently made up his mind that a Catholic Church in England was a lost cause, and decided to stay one last night before leaving the British Isles, for good. He planned to spend his final night in a church that was dedicated to the two apostles, Peter and Paul. This decision was either his best or his worst idea, depending on your reaction to the weird finale of this story.

Unfortunately, the archbishop of Canterbury would not sleep peacefully in that church. No, not by far. According to Venerable Bede (673-735 CE), the long-dead apostle Peter—one of the leaders of Jesus’ apostles and supposedly the first bishop of Rome—was extremely displeased with Laurentius. As the story goes, Peter was so irked by the actions of Laurentius that he personally descended from heaven to set the archbishop of Canterbury back on the right path.

What followed was weird. Peter appeared before Laurentius and chastised the priest for abandoning his flock, while others (Peter included) had faced martyrdom for their religion. While criticizing the archbishop with accusations such as these, the apostle supposedly struck Laurentius with savage blows from a heavy whip, or scourge. By morning, the bizarre mystical beating had convinced Archbishop Laurentius to remain in Britain.

Laurentius immediately sought, and obtained, an audience with the pagan king of Kent, Eadbald (r. 616-640), the son of Æthelbert. When he stood before King Eadbald, the sore and tired archbishop described the miraculous punishment that he had experienced during the night. According to Bede, he then dramatically removed his robe and let the king look upon his holy welts, in all of their bruised glory. As the story goes, King Eadbald was convinced by the sight and immediately converted, promising to follow and protect the Catholic Church.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top picture attribution: (Archbishop of Canterbury (probably Edmund), Illustrations from the Nuremberg Chronicle, by Hartmann Schedel (1440-1514), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Sources:

•   Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People (and relevant letters), translated by Leo Sherley-Pride, R. E. Latham and D. H. Farmer (Penguin Classics, 2003). 
• http://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofEngland/Archbishops-of-Canterbury/  
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Laurentius-of-Canterbury 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Eadbald  
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saberht

The Unstable Sea Battle of Corfu Between Robert Guiscard And Venice

By the end of 1084 or early 1085, Robert Guiscard, a Norman lord who managed to build himself an impressive empire in Italy and Sicily, had been at war with the Byzantine Empire for several long years. In 1081, he led an invasion to challenge the new Byzantine emperor of Constantinople, Alexios Komnenos (r. 1081-1118), and was initially successful in his endeavor. The Normans won several victories in the early years of the war. They took the coastal fortress and city of Dyrrakhion, and defeated an army led by Emperor Alexios, in the process. Led by Guiscard’s son, Bohemond, the Normans raided the empire, pressing into central Greece, even reaching Ionia and the eastern reaches of the Byzantine Empire, in modern Turkey. Yet, as the years went on, Emperor Alexios began to turn the tide of the war—the man just never gave up. He kept evading unwise battles and kept rebuilding his forces, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Alexios’ patience paid off; he soon began to win victories against the Normans, and was able to push the bulk of the invasion back all the way to Albania.

That brings us back to the Battle of Corfu in late 1084 or early 1085. Even though Bohemnond’s campaign against the Byzantine Empire had taken a definite turn for the worse, Robert Guiscard was not ready to give up on his ambitions in Greece. Instead, he mobilized another army and navy for a second invasion of the Byzantine Empire.

After dropping troops off in Greece at Butrint, Guiscard sailed toward the rebellious island of Corfu, situated between the heel of Italy and Greece. According to Anna Komnene (daughter of Emperor Alexios), the Byzantine emperor discovered that Corfu was Guiscard’s destination. Emperor Alexios then sent this valuable information to his allies, the Venetians, and they coordinated together in hunting down the Norman fleet. When Guiscard received word that the Byzantine and Venetian navies were closing in on him, he set up a defensive position at Kassiopi, on the northeastern end of the Island of Corfu. There, Robert Guiscard suffered two successive defeats, but he emerged from the battles with his fleet still intact.

According to Anna Komnene, the Byzantine and Venetian navies parted and went their separate ways after their moderate victory over Guiscard at Kassiopi. The Venetians headed to the port in the main city of Corfu, while the other allied ships sailed back to mainland Greece. Robert Guiscard, however, was battered, but not defeated—he left Kassiopi and pursued the Venetians to the port of Corfu.

Guiscard’s sudden attack caught the Venetian fleet totally by surprise. According to Anna Komnene, the Normans charged the Venetians, who made an interesting fortification out of their ships—they apparently chained their fleet together in a circle, with large ships on the outside and small vessels within. The Norman siege of this floating fortress went on for a long time. If Anna Komene’s sources were correct, the battle raged on for such a length of time that the Venetian fleet ran out of their stockpile of supplies, making their ships much lighter in weight than usual. Ultimately, the Normans triumphed over the Venetians in the Battle of Corfu. Anna Komnene recorded an interesting theory about the battle’s final moments; she wrote that the Venetian ships had become so light by the end of the battle, that when the soldiers rushed to defend the assaulted sides of their ships, the vessels tilted and began to take on water. Komnene estimated that around 13,000 Venetian sailors drowned as a result of the battle. The ships and crew that survived the battle were captured by the Norman fleet.

Although Robert Guiscard won an impressive victory in the Battle of Corfu, the Venetians would have their revenge. Another Venetian fleet hunted down the Norman camp at Butrint and won a redemptive victory. Nevertheless, the biggest blow to Norman ambitions in the Byzantine Empire was the death of Robert Guiscard, who died in 1085, after falling ill mere months after the Battle of Corfu. Yet, even though Robert Guiscard was gone, his son, Bohemond, would continue to be a very real threat to the Byzantine Empire for decades to come.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top picture attribution: (A 19th century engraving of a Venetian galley fighting at the battle of Curzola in 1298, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Alexiad by Anna Komnene, translated by E. R. A. Sewter. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.  
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Robert-duke-of-Apulia

Emperor Phocas (r. 602-610) Gave The Ancient Roman Pantheon To Pope Boniface IV

As the ancient world transitioned into the Middle Ages, the Eastern Roman Empire (known as the Byzantine Empire) slowly began to be pressed back into a heartland quarantined to Greece and the Middle East. Yet, the Byzantine Empire still had enormous power, and in the 7th century CE, the emperor still wielded significant authority over the Christian popes in Rome.

At the start of the 7th century, the pope was about to gain access to one of the oldest, best preserved, temples in Rome—the Pantheon. The site of the Panthon had long been home to Roman temples. The first Pantheon temple was built by Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa (r. 27-25 BCE), and another was constructed in the reign of Domitian (r. 81-96 CE). The Pantheon that stands, today, is believed to have begun construction under the reign of Trajan (r. 98-117 CE), and was completed by Emperor Hadrian around 125 CE.

The fate, and purpose, of the Pantheon would change with the rise of an interesting emperor in 602—Phocas. From his origin as a simple commoner, Phocas joined the military and led a successful rebellion in Thrace against the reigning Emperor Maurice (r. 582-602). At the end of the rebellion, Phocas was crowned emperor and Maurice, as well as his heirs, faced execution. Read our article about the unique reign of Empeor Phocas, HERE, if you wish to know more about the rise and demise of this peculiar emperor.

In 608 or 609, Emperor Phocas gave Pope Boniface IV (r. 608-615) permission to convert the Roman Pantheon into a Christian church. According to Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, Boniface IV had the pagan temple ritualistically purified and, “once its company of devils had been cast out,” it was renamed the church of Saint Mary of the Martyrs (or the St. Maria Rotunda). As a result, the ancient temple of all the Roman gods was repurposed into a Christian church that venerated martyrs and saints (Ecclesiastical History, Book 2, Chapter 4).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top picture attribution: (facebook Pope Boniface and Emperor Phocas in front of Roman Pantheon, all [Public Domain] via Creative Commons, Flickr and maxpixel.com)

Sources:

• Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People (and relevant letters), translated by Leo Sherley-Pride, R. E. Latham and D. H. Farmer. New York: Penguin Classics, 2003.  
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Boniface-IV 
• http://www.ancient.eu/Pantheon/  
• http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02660c.htm

Was The Archbishopric Of Canterbury Created Because A Pope Met Slaves From Britain in a Roman Market?

Pope Gregory I, or his more illustrious title, Pope Saint Gregory the Great, was one of the most important figures to shape the future of the Papal States and the influence of the papacy over the monarchs of Europe. In fact, due to his brilliant theological mind and his masterful administration of the Catholic Church, Pope Gregory I (r. 590-604) is sometimes considered to be the founder of the medieval papacy.

Pope Gregory and his achievements deserve a much more in depth biography, but in this “Did You Know?” we will try to keep the information about Gregory’s life and ascension to throne of St. Peter concise. Gregory was born around 540 in the city of Rome. His family was wealthy, owning estates in both the Italian Peninsula and Sicily, but their primary holding was the Caelian Hill of Rome. Gregory also came from a family that was heavily associated with Christianity—his great-grandfather was Pope Felix III (r. 483-492)—and his mother, along with three other of Gregory’s aunts, all became nuns. Initially, Gregory seemed to be setting himself up for a life in government, even achieving the impressive position of a Roman Prefect. Yet, around 574, Gregory abandoned his life as an elite Roman citizen to become a monk. His isolation did not last—by 579, he was pulled out of the monastic life and appointed as a deacon. He received his last church promotion in 590, when he was elected to be pope of the Catholic Church.

In that span of time, between Gregory being pressured to leave his monastery and his ascension to the position of pope, an interesting event may have occurred that implanted the idea of creating the Archbishopric of Canterbury inside the mind of the future pope. Venerable Bede (673-735 CE) wrote that there was a “traditional story in the history of our Church” claiming that Gregory was inspired to proselytize England after an encounter with British slaves in Rome (Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Book 2, Chapter 1).

According to the story, Gregory was browsing through a market in Rome that was selling goods from the British Isles. As he was looking through the wares, one unfortunate type of merchandise caught his attention—slaves. According to Bede, a group of enslaved boys that were captured from England left Gregory awestruck. The future pope could not find a single flaw in their aesthetic appearance or physical poise. Filled with questions about these flawless boys, Gregory struck up a conversation with the slaves.

First, he asked where they came from, and they told him that their home was in Britain. Next, as a clergyman, Gregory naturally asked if the boys came from a Christian community. To this the slaves responded that their people were not Christians, but rather followed their traditional pagan gods.

As Gregory continued to question the slaves, he soon began to believe that their answers were omens calling for Britain to be fully converted to Christianity. Gregory asked the slaves what their society or race was called. To the priest’s delight, they were Angles, which he immediately compared to “angels,” the divine beings that served God in heaven. Next, Gregory asked about which province the slaves had been taken from. When they said they came from Deira, Gregory quickly associated that with the phrase, de ira, or, “from wrath.” He interpreted this to mean the Angles should be saved from the wrath of God through the teachings of the church. Finally, Gregory asked about the king of the Angles. The slaves told him that their king was named Aelle. Like with all of the other answers, Gregory could not help but associate the response with a Christian meaning. This time, he linked their king’s name, Aelle, with the religious phrase of praise, “alleluia.” After all of these answers, Gregory reportedly made it one of his life’s goals to greatly amplify the spread the of the Catholic Church into Britain.

Whether this story was historical or a mere folktale remains an ongoing debate. Generally, most people conclude that the scenario of Gregory encountering slaves from Britain is plausible, but that the conversation that was recorded by Bede was likely the result of historical fiction or storytelling. Either way, Pope Gregory did, indeed, set up the Archbishopric of Canterbury. In 597, he sent a group of missionaries, under the leadership of Saint Augustine of Canterbury, which ultimately converted King Aethelbert (or Ethelbert) of Kent to Christianity, after initially being quarantined on the Isle of Thanet. Augustine, a Benedictine monk from Rome who was said to have performed miracles, was named the first Archbishop of Canterbury.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Photo attribution: (Gregory the Great (prior to becoming pope) conversing with British Slaves, by James William Edmund Doyle (1822–1892), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Sources:

• From Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People (and relevant letters), translated by Leo Sherley-Pride, R. E. Latham and D. H. Farmer. New York: Penguin Classics, 2003.  
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Gregory-the-Great 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Augustine-of-Canterbury  
• http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=54

The Odd Beings That Herodotus Suggested Lived In Libya

The father of history, Herodotus, had a very loose filter that often failed to keep out folklore and unfounded rumor from what he considered to be historical fact. Usually, Herodotus’ bits of folklore and myth were fairly tame, like recording a creation myth for a country or telling a questionable story about the historical figures in his book. Herodotus was a religious man, so talk of deities, omens and prophecies was also included in his work. Yet, he rarely spoke about monsters or other supernatural beings, except for the gods. One major exception, however, occurred in Herodotus’ description of ancient Libya.

In book four of The Histories, Herodotus gave a brief description of various Libyan tribes that he had learned of in his travels and studies. He then went on to talk about an undefined group of nomads who lived in what he called eastern Libya. Herodotus wrote that in the east of this region, where the nomads roamed, the land was sandy and relatively flat. To the west, where the nomads refused to wander, the geography was dominated by lush hills that supported an abundance of life. Apparently, there were some strange beings living in the hills of eastern Libya.

This is what Herodotus wrote about the creatures living in this hilly region:

“It is here that the huge snakes are found—and lions, elephants, bears, asps, and horned asses, not to mention dog-headed men, headless men with eyes in their breasts (I merely repeat what the Libyans say), wild men and wild women, and a great many other creatures by no means of a fabulous kind.” (Herodotus, The Histories (Book IV), Penguin Classics, 2002).

Scholars still debate what Herodotus was trying to describe. Some suggest he may have interpreted “dog-headed men” from descriptions of religious figures found in Egypt. Others simply claim that the “wild” people may have been gorillas and that the dog-headed men could have been baboons.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top picture attribution: (Statue of Anubis in the Vatican Museum, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and Pixabay.com)

Sources:

• The Histories by Herodotus, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt and revised by John Marincola. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002. 

The Folklore Origin Story About The Miraculous Rise Of Alexander The Great’s Argead Dynasty

The renowned conqueror, Alexander the Great, and his brilliant father, King Philip II, are the two best-known members of the Macedonian Argead Dynasty. Yet, Alexander the Great (r. 336-323 BCE) was probably the twenty-first successive king of Macedonia from the Argead line. As far as historians can tell, the very first Argead king of Macedonia was a man known as Perdiccas I, who led his people eastward from somewhere along the Haliacmon River (modern Aliákmon) around 700 BCE, and set up a Macedonian kingdom centered around the city of Aegae, located near modern Edessa, Greece. The Macedonia of Perdiccas I was far from the powerhouse of potential that Alexander the Great later inherited, and masterfully exploited, in the 4th-century BCE—it would take strengthening and expansion from other Argead kings like Alexander I (r. 498-454/450), Archelaus (r. 413-399 BCE) and Philip II (r. 359-336) for Macedonia to become a dominant power in Greece. Yet, Perdiccas I in the 8th and 7th century BCE was the founder of this long chain of Macedonian kings.

In The Histories, Herodotus (490-425/420 BCE) provided an interesting origin myth for Perdiccas I and the ancient Macedonian royal line. This story, or one similar to it, was used by King Alexander I of Macedonia to gain admittance to the Olympic Games. According to Herodotus, many of the ancient Greeks believed that Alexander I and his Macedonian people were non-Greek barbarians. With the help of the following legend, Alexander I convinced the ancient Olympic Committee that his own Argead line was Greek enough to participate in the Olympics—yet, there is no mention if he improved the average perception that Greeks had of his Macedonian subjects.

In the origin myth provided by Herodotus, Perdiccas I (the first Macedonian king) was the youngest of three brothers fathered by Temenus of Argos. The brothers (oldest to youngest: Gauanes, Aeropus and Perdiccas) were forced to flee Argos and found shelter and work under a king in a city called Lebaea, located somewhere in what would become Macedonia. The king and his city were both fairly poor—the queen had to do all the cooking, even for the workers. Consequentially, she observed something odd about the food that she prepared for her husband and the estate. Every time she made food for the brothers, Perdiccas’ meal would miraculously grow twice the size of any other person’s portion. The queen eventually told the king about the strange omen, and he feared the sign—to him, it was obvious that the gods were signaling Perdiccas for greatness.

Fearful of Perdiccas’ potential, the king of Lebaea met with the brothers and asked them to kindly leave his lands. The brothers took this second exile surprisingly well. They consented to leave and their only condition was to be paid their fair wages. The king, however, scoffed at the request and gestured at the sun, saying that it was where their wages could be found. At this outburst from the king, Perdiccas calmly took out his knife and outlined a patch of sunlight with the point of his blade. According to Herodotus, he then “three times gathered the sunlight into the folds of his tunic” and departed Lebaea with his brothers (The Histories, Book VIII).

Soon after the incident, the king of Lebaea realized that Perdiccas had won that verbal and symbolic exchange. Still fearing the brothers, the king decided to chase them down and kill Peridiccas to save face and to secure his throne from any possibly threat. The forces of the king may have succeeded in reaching the brothers, but nature (or divine intervention) protected Perdiccas and his kin. After the brothers safely crossed a river, the water then drastically raised, cutting off access for the persuing troops. With the brothers no longer being followed, Perdiccas led his brothers to Mt. Bermium and the Gardens of Midas, where they would settle and found their Kingdom of Macedonia, with Perdiccas I as their first king.

So ends Herodotus’ origin myth of the Argead Dynasty in Macedonia. Other than a few true facts—i.e. Perdiccas I being the first Macedonian king, and that he moved to take over Macedonia from elsewhere—most of Herodotus’ story is fictional. Remarkably, the story is incredibly similar to (and possibly inspired by) the creation myths of the Scythian people. They both feature three brothers, where divine signs or miracles visibly mark the youngest brother as the rightful ruler. Nevertheless, this multi-thousand-year-old piece of folklore remains entertaining today, as it was to the ancients.

Top picture attribution: (2nd century CE bust of Alexander the Great, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources:

• The Histories by Herodotus, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt and revised by John Marincola. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.  
• Alexander the Great by Philip Freeman. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2011. 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Argead-dynasty 

An Ancient Spartan Military Secret—Musical Instruments

Military order, discipline and the logistics of feeding troops were deemed so important to the Spartans that, according to Herodotus (490-425/420 BCE), the very occupations of being a military woodwind musician or an army chef were supposedly strict hereditary jobs, contained to certain families that passed the skill from one generation to the next. In short, to enter one of these two occupations, your family already had to be firmly established in those lines of work. The importance of reliable cooks, obviously, was to keep the soldiers well fed and content while they risked their lives fighting in all too persistent waves of warfare. Similarly, skilled military musicians who knew what they were doing were vital to the Spartan military, for it is thought that Spartan military maneuvering was assisted and directed with the help of musicians. Like horn musicians and percussionists that would be utilized by other militaries throughout history, the Spartans used woodwind music to keep their formations orderly.

Although Herodotus did not go into detail about what woodwind instrument the hereditary musicians were trained to use, the most common instrument of that style in the ancient Greek world was the aulos. The oldest known examples of the aulos have been found in Thessaly, dating back to around 5,000 BCE. Those incredibly old auloi were made of bone, but later aulos instruments were also made of wood, ivory and metal. Pipes made of these substances had holes precisely placed down their length to create standard musical notes, which could be achieved by blowing into the pipe through mouthpieces equipped with reeds. While the aulos could be played by simply placing one’s fingers over the holes in the flute, keys similar to those found on modern woodwind instruments were eventually added to the device. It was common (especially in Herodotus’ day) for aulos musicians to play two pipes at the same time, with the individual pipes connecting into a “V” shape, with the mouthpieces meeting at the point of the V. With two pipes active at the same time, the double aulos added the potential for musical chords and more complex melodies. One major drawback of the aulos was the significant air pressure that a musician had to create to produce a decent sound. Playing the aulos could be so tiring that some musicians used straps to support their mouths while they played.

The aulos was not only used by the Spartans to keep their military in order, but was also heavily present in many other aspects of ancient Greek life. There is evidence that they were used in festivals, parades, theatre and other social events. Birthday celebrations and funeral processions, too, could both be accompanied with music from the aulos. The aulos, and other instruments, were also associated with religion, and were often used in the worship of gods. The cult of Dionysus was particularly known to use the aulos in its ceremonies and gatherings.

 (Aulos player. Attic red-figured kylix, ca. 490 BC. From Vulci. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Written by C. Keith Hansely.

Sources:

• From The Histories by Herodotus, translated by Aubrey De Sélincourt and revised by John Marincola (Penguin Classics, 2002). 
• https://www.britannica.com/art/aulos 
• http://www.ancient.eu/Aulos/ 
• http://www.hellenicaworld.com/Greece/Ancient/en/Music.html