The Linked Deaths Of Thane Liulf And Bishop Walchere

William the Conqueror, king of England from 1066 to 1087, successfully arranged for Walchere of Lorraine to become the bishop of Durham around 1072. Around the time of Walchere’s appointment to the bishopric, resistance among the newly-conquered Anglo-Saxon population to King William’s Norman rule was beginning to die down. One visible example of this growing acceptance and assimilation among the Anglo-Saxons was the case of a certain wealthy man named Liulf. During the pre-1066 heyday of the Anglo-Saxons, Liulf had been a powerful thane with landholdings scattered in several regions of England. Sometime after 1072, however, Liulf chose to accept Norman rule and decided to live out his retirement in Durham.

As an Anglo-Saxon nobleman, Liulf had business and government experience, and he attempted to cultivate a friendship with the Norman administrators in Durham by offering his advice to them on any matters that they were willing to discuss. He had some success growing closer to Bishop Walchere, but the other administrators, such as the bishop’s secular counterpart, Gilbert, never warmed to the retired thane. As Liulf grew closer to the bishop, the other Norman officials in Durham only continued to become more and more irritated with his presence. Nevertheless, Liulf was safe as long as his friendship with Bishop Walchere remained intact.

Unfortunately for Liulf, something occurred around 1080 that caused a breach between the bishop and the thane. What exactly caused the divide is unknown, but Bishop Walchere’s faith in Liulf was shaken to such a visible extent that the Norman officials operating out of Durham predicted that if they struck at their Anglo-Saxon rival at this time, there would be little repercussion from the bishop. Putting their hopes on this hunch, Liulf’s enemies made their move, and the Anglo-Saxon thane was murdered in his home.

It is difficult to gauge the bishop’s reaction to the death. On the one hand, he reportedly did an investigation, accusing the aforementioned administrative and military official, Gilbert, of being involved in the murder. This official, along with other people implicated in the death, faced banishment from the region of Northumbria. Yet, on the other hand, Bishop Walchere reportedly allowed Gilbert and other such banished people to secretly stay at his Durham church property.

Unfortunately for the Normans in Durham, Liulf had been a well-connected man. His family, friends and other angry Anglo-Saxons marched on Durham to demand revenge. This force became all the more irate when they learned that Bishop Walchere was sheltering the very people that he had earlier banished for being involved in the murder. The bishop, for his part, apparently attempted to negotiate some sort of peace settlement between the accused murderers and the Anglo-Saxons rioters who had poured in from various sections of Northumbria. Bringing these two parties together, however, had a disastrous effect. The fates of Bishop Walchere and his Norman comrades were reported in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which stated, “In this year [1080] bishop Walchere was slain in Durham, at a meeting, and a hundred men with him, French and Flemish; but he himself was born in Lorraine. This the Northumbrians did in the month of May” (AD 1080). In response to the massacre, King William reportedly sent a Norman army to ravage the region of Northumbria.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (A scene from the reign of Henry IV, illustrated by James William Edmund Doyle (1822–1892), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012.
• The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854.  

The Holy Or Mischievous Trap At Saint Vincent's

In 585, the forces of King Guntram of the Franks (r. 561-593) chased down and defeated a pretender (illegal/unrecognized claimant) to the throne named Gundovald. During the pursuit, Guntram’s forces passed by a town called Agen, where a church dedicated to Saint Vincent was located. The doors of this church were locked and barred, as were the other entrances to the holy sanctuary. Despite the barricades, Guntram’s warriors could see all sorts of treasures inside the church, presumably locked inside by locals who hoped the church would disincentivize looting by the roaming armies in the region. Not paying any respect to Saint Vincent’s church, the warriors decided to break into the place at all cost. To do this, they reportedly set fire to the doors, weakening the integrity of the boards and barricades. After letting the fire burn for a time, the looters were able to break into the church, where the treasures were there for the taking.

Unbeknownst to the looters, however, the wealth in the church was protected in some way. Whether by holy power, or by sabotage of the locals or the adventurer Gundovald, the treasure turned out to be a trap. As soon as the warriors touched the would-be loot, chaos broke out in the church of Saint Vincent. Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), holy man and historian, described the bizarre scene that reportedly took place in the church:

“Once the doors were burnt down, the soldiers looted all the property and all the equipment which they found there, and stole the church plate as well. The vengeance which God exacted gave them a severe fright. Many of their hands caught fire supernaturally and gave forth a great smoke, like the pall which rises from a conflagration. Some were possessed by a devil and rushed about screaming the martyr’s name. Others fought with each other and wounded themselves with their own javelins. A vast horde of troops continued to advance but with fear in their hearts” (History of the Franks, VII.35).

Despite the supernatural (or otherwise-devised) plight that this band of looters experienced, the rest of King Guntram’s army continued on their way in pursuit of the disruptive adventurer, Gundovald. They besieged the city of Comminges, where the pretender was staying, and looted (with more success this time) the countryside around the town. As the siege progressed, Gundovald was ultimately betrayed by his followers and, in the end, faced execution.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Lot leaving Sodom, painted by Kerstiaen de Keuninck (circa 1561 –circa 1635), [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 Rumored Theft Of Zeno’s Treasure

During the reign of Emperor Justinian (r. 527-565), a wealthy man named Zeno was appointed to be the emperor’s prefect of Egypt. After receiving this order, Zeno started gathering his treasures of gold and jewels, for he wanted to live in luxury during his term of office. Vast quantities of gold, silver, emeralds and pearls that he owned were transported to the empire’s capital city of Constantinople, where the treasure was stockpiled on the ship that would soon take Zeno to Egypt. The voyage, however, never took place—before Zeno could leave for Egypt, his ship caught fire and the wreckage sank below the waves. With the ship went his treasure. To Zeno’s horror, not a single salvageable coin or jewel could be found floating above the water or down in the debris field on the seabed. Yet, Zeno’s misfortunes did not end there. Not long after the fire, Zeno mysteriously and suspiciously died. After his death, a will was discovered in which Zeno bequeathed all of his property to the imperial couple, Emperor Justinian and Empress Theodora.

Zeno’s death became a hot topic for gossip. With the suspicious fire on the ship, the unexplained absence of treasure in the wreckage, and his subsequent mysterious death not long after the incident, many people in Constantinople were convinced that there was foul play afoot in Zeno’s sudden downfall. One of the people who expressed this concern was Procopius (c. 490-565), the greatest contemporary historian of Justinian’s reign. In his Secret History, Procopius took the side of the gossipers, suggesting that Emperor Justinian sent henchmen to steal Zeno’s treasure and then burned the ship to cover the crime. The historian was less assertive, but still insinuative, in implicating Justinian in Zeno’s later suspicious death. Procopius wrote, “Not long after, as it happened, Zeno died very suddenly, and the two of them [the imperial couple] took over his estate as his lawful heirs, for they produced a will of sorts, which it was openly rumored was not of his making” (Secret History, chapter 12). It must be noted that Procopius was extremely critical, and often libelous, of Justinian in his Secret History, and the historian’s allegations should be taken with a grain of salt. Procopius had no definitive proof or evidence that Justinian was involved in Zeno’s death; the historian likely believed, however, that such a crime could fit with the emperor’s conniving and opportunistic character.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Painting of the Archimedes Mirror being used to burn a ship, by Giulio Parigi  (1571–1635), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Secret History by Procopius, translated by G. A. Williamson and Peter Sarris. New York: Penguin Classics, 1966, 2007.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Justinian-I 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Justinian_I/

William The Conqueror’s Monastery Monetary Withdrawal

War and conquest is expensive work. William the Conqueror, after leading the Norman subjugation of England in 1066, quickly put into effect laws and decrees designed to refill his treasury with English wealth. In 1067, King William imposed a tax on the newly conquered English, demanding a rate which was described as “heavy” by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (An. M.LXVII) and “insupportable” by the Chronicle of Florence of Worcester (AD 1067). The king, however, did not stop with secular taxes. He also targeted England’s church institutions. By 1070, William the Conqueror brought Lanfranc, a loyal abbot from Caen, Normandy, and had this clergyman elevated to the position of Archbishop of Canterbury. Around the time that this friendly archbishop was in place, William moved on to his next fundraising tactic—seizing wealth from monasteries.

Between 1070 and 1071, William systematically had the monasteries of England searched for treasure. In the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the scribes of the text bitterly described these searches and seizures as sacrilegious plundering of the holy cloisters. Another medieval chronicle, however, made an effort to explain William’s alleged reasoning. According to the aforementioned Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, “king William, during Lent [17th February], caused all the monasteries of England to be searched, and the money deposited in them by the richer sort of the English, for security against his violence and rapacity, to be seized and carried to his own treasury” (AD 1070). He would go on to replace almost all of England’s Anglo-Saxon bishops with imported clergymen from his Norman lands. Ironically, these questionable church actions were fairly anomalous when compared with William’s other interactions with the church. Generally, William the Conqueror is remembered by history for having an admirable and productive church and state relationship, often guided by the aforementioned Archbishop Lanfranc.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Relief from the monastery of Haghpat, [Public Domain] via pxfuel.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012.
• The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/William-I-king-of-England/The-Battle-of-Hastings 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Lanfranc

The Morbid Bank Of High-Priest John Hyrcanus

John Hyrcanus, a member of the Maccabee/Hasmonean Dynasty, ruled Jerusalem from 135 to 104 BCE. Around the same time as John Hyrcanus’ ascendance, the Jewish state was invaded by the Seleucid Empire, from which the Hasmonean Dynasty of high priests had rebelled in 167 BCE. Antiochus VII, leader of the Seleucids, marched his army to the walls of Jerusalem in 135 or 134 BCE, intending to bring the Jewish realm back into a state of vassalage. A siege ensued, in which both the attackers and defenders suffered from inadequate supplies. As neither side was in an ideal situation to continue the siege, Antiochus VII and John Hyrcanus opened up peace negotiations. For these talks, the high priest needed to find more resources that he could use as leverage in the bargain. As the story goes, John Hyrcanus obtained these bargaining chips from a morbid source.

Josephus, a Jewish priest and historian from the 1st century, wrote about how John Hyrcanus responded to the siege of Antiochus VII. In The Jewish War, Josephus wrote, “Hyrcanus opened the tomb of David, the wealthiest of kings, and extracted more than 3,000 talents. He spent 300 on bribing Antiochus to raise the siege, and used the residue to hire a force of mercenaries—he was the first Jew to adopt this practice” (The Jewish War, I.61). What Josephus biasedly called a bribe, other ancient historians instead interpreted as a submittal by John Hyrcanus to the demands of Antiochus VII. Yet, the high priest of Jerusalem was indeed able to negotiate favorable terms for himself. Although John Hyrcanus, in the negotiations, apparently recognized Seleucid power and agreed to some demilitarization, he also convinced Antiochus VII to recognize Maccabee/Hasmonean rule in Jerusalem, and to allow the dynasty to continue exercising autonomy.

John Hyrcanus’ early concessions worked out in the long run, as he was able to regain lost ground after the death of Antiochus VII in 129 BCE, at which point the Seleucid Empire fell into a succession crisis and civil war. Along with the mercenaries paid by the treasure from King David’s tomb, John Hyrcanus also added a further check against foreign threats by reportedly making some sort of partnership or alliance with Rome.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Hoard of ancient gold coins, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Josephus’ The Jewish War, translated by Martin Hammond. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017.
• http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/7972-hyrcanus-john-johanan-i 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/John-Hyrcanus-I 
• https://www.livius.org/articles/person/antiochus-vii-sidetes/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Antiochus-VII-Sidetes 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Flavius-Josephus 
• https://www.ancient.eu/King_David/

Rome’s Underhanded Acquisition Of Disputed Land In 446 BCE

446 BCE was a busy year for the Romans. According to the historian Livy, it was a year that played host to both military glory and diplomatic shame. The former lauded feat came from Rome’s victory over a Volscian and Aequian invasion. As for the latter scandal, it resulted from the Roman people’s part in a land dispute between allies. At the heart of the conflict were the feuding cities of Aricia and Ardea, both of which were members of the Roman alliance network and were located just to the southeast of Rome. Aricia and Ardea had an ongoing heated feud about a piece of land, and tiring of their endless arguments, both cities reportedly decided to send representatives to Rome in order to have the Romans decide which of the cities had a better claim to the disputed land. When the representatives arrived, they were given an audience by the Roman government, the members of which listened to the arguments of both Aricia and Ardea. After the presentations were concluded, the Roman governing officials reportedly called an assembly of the political tribes of Rome to let the people decide the fate of the disputed land. It was in this latter phase when the land arbitration took a turn into controversy.

According to Livy, the disputed land that was in question happened to have once belonged to a city called Corioli, which the Romans were said to have occupied and burned in 493 BCE. As Aricia and Ardea were fighting over that land decades later, Rome obviously did not put much effort into settling or defending that region, allowing for other nearby cities to expand into the territory once held by Corioli. Nevertheless, an elderly Roman citizen reportedly brought up Rome’s past campaign in the region and insisted that the Romans had just as much right to the land as did Aricia and Ardea. Such talk reportedly won over the expansionist Roman masses, and when the representatives from the petitioning cities were called back to hear the verdict, the diplomats from Aricia and Ardea were told that it was Rome that would be taking the disputed land, to which the allied diplomats could do little but grumble. Livy, for his part, decried the move as shameful, “for an arbitrator to convert disputed land to his own use was a crime revolting in itself, and would set a precedent even worse” (History of Rome, 3.72).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Wall painting from Pompeii (before 79 AD) - Naples, Archaeological Museum, [Public Domain] via flickr.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.

The Tricky Tale Of How Gundovald Seized Comminges

In 585, politics in the lands of the Franks was disrupted by a man named Gundovald (or Gundoald), who claimed to have been a long-lost son of the Merovingian Dynasty’s King Chlotar (d. 561). The late king, as well as his sons, denied Gundovald’s claims, labeling him as a pretender to the throne. Nevertheless, Gundovald was more than willing to recruit disgruntled or opportunist lords and clergymen. By 585, he had recruited various counts, dukes and bishops to his cause. Yet, before he could rally this rag-tag band of followers into a truly threatening force, the patriarch of the Merovingian Dynasty at that time, King Guntram (r. 561-593), rallied his own forces with the intention of hunting down the pretender.

Fleeing from Guntram’s approaching army, Gundovald dragged his forces from town to town, eventually ending up in a place called Comminges. After giving the locals his usual speech about his dubious ties to royalty, the people of Comminges invited Gundovald’s army into the town with open arms. Gundovald reportedly informed the people of the city that an enemy force would soon be approaching, and he proposed that they gather any friends, family and belongings that happened to be outside of the town walls and bring them into the safety of the city. The gullible and trusting people of Comminges followed their guest’s suggestions, concentrating all of their supplies and belongings in the city. When this was completed, Gundovald launched a mischievous plan. The scene that reportedly followed was recorded by the bishop and historian, Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594):

“Gundovald remained in Comminges. He addressed the inhabitants a second time. ‘The enemy army is approaching,’ he said. ‘You must sally forth and fight.’ They marched out to do battle. Gundovald’s men then seized the gates, slammed them to and so shut out the people of Comminges and their Bishop. They thereupon took possession of everything which they could find in town” (The History of the Franks, VII.34).

Thus, Gundovald allegedly took possession of the belongings of an entire community. He did not, however, have long to enjoy the plunder. King Guntram’s army quickly closed in on Comminges and successfully besieged Gundovald in the city. Trapped by the king’s military, Gundovald’s coalition of supporters began questioning their loyalty. Before the end of 585, Gundovald was betrayed by his supporters and faced execution.

Written by C, Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Swordsman illustrated by H. Pyle, c. 1888, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.