Queen Matilda, The Lofty Wife Of William The Conqueror, Was Actually Quite Small In Stature

William of Normandy (c. 1027/1028-1087) was the illegitimate son of Duke Robert I of Normandy and Herleve, the daughter of a tanner. Luckily for William, his father, Duke Robert, never fathered any other known sons. Therefore, when Robert decided to leave France in order to go on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the duke made sure everyone knew that William was the heir to his domain. Duke Robert died in 1035, while returning home from that aforementioned pilgrimage. Upon the death, William was recognized as the new Duke of Normandy. Even so, his illegitimate birth left him vulnerable to rivals who coveted his power.

William’s childhood was perilous, with plots and schemes around every corner. After surviving his dangerous youth, William was knighted in 1042, at the age of fifteen, and began to assert his ducal powers. The many resulting rebellions caused by these attempts to assert authority continued for well over a decade. In fact, the revolts in Normandy were still ongoing when William began considering marriage. He ultimately married Matilda, the daughter of Count Baldwin V of Flanders. The duke and the count were both in vital need of allies and the union would be of mutual benefit. Arrangements between the two rulers began as early as 1049, but the marriage took place in 1053, when William was in his mid-twenties. At the time of their wedding, the rebellions in Normandy still posed a serious threat to William, and he would not regain complete control for another one or two years.

Matilda of Flanders, William’s new wife, was said to have been one of the great beauties of her day. The marriage proved quite fruitful, and she would eventually give birth to four sons and a least five or six daughters. Although her husband’s position may have seemed precarious to Matilda in 1053, William would eventually make himself the strongest warlord in northern France and, after the Battle of Hastings in 1066, he also made himself the king of England. Although the union was a politically arranged marriage, William evidently trusted and respected Matilda, for when he crossed the English Channel to conquer the Anglo-Saxon kingdom; he made his wife (aided by their son, Robert Curthose) the regent ruler of Normandy.

When the abbey of Ste Trinité, located in Caen, underwent excavations in 1961, Queen Matilda’s bones were examined. Based on observations of the bones, scholars made an interesting observation—Queen Matilda was really, really short. They estimated that she could only have been around four feet, two inches tall! Compared to the above-average height of her husband, William (approximately five feet, ten inches), the powerful pair must have been quite the sight.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Painting of Queen Matilda sewing, c. 1868, by Joseph Martin Kronheim (1810–96), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• King Harald’s Saga, by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Magnus Mangusson and Hermann Pálsson. New York: Penguin Books, 1966, 2005. 
• https://www.historytoday.com/blog/2012/01/matilda-queen-conqueror
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Matilda-of-Flanders 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/William-I-king-of-England
• https://www.biography.com/people/william-the-conqueror-9542227 
• http://www.englishmonarchs.co.uk/normans.htm 
• http://www.westminster-abbey.org/our-history/royals/william-the-conqueror  

The Unfortunate Fates Of The Two Men Who Simultaneously Claimed To Be Emperors Of Bulgaria in 1040

The year 1040 was rough for the Eastern Roman/Byzantine Empire. Not only did the reigning emperor, Michael IV (r. 1034-1041), lose all of his taxes from Dalmatia in a shipwreck—the gold was opportunistically scooped up by the Serbs—but two separate men also rebelled against the authority of Constantinople, claiming themselves to both be emperors of Bulgaria. This Bulgarian rebellion, although it only lasted about one year, would prove to be a remarkably dramatic episode of Byzantine history.

According to the 11th-century historians, Michael Psellus and John Skylitzes, all of the chaos in Bulgaria originated with a curious man by the name of Peter Deleanos. He claimed to have been the grandson of the famous Tsar Samuel of Bulgaria (r. 997-1014) and also professed himself to be the son of a Hungarian princess. Touting his claim to the Bulgarian and Hungarian thrones, Peter Deleanos stirred many communities from the western portion of the Byzantine Empire into open rebellion.

Basil Synadenos, the commander of the fortress at Dyrrachion (modern Durrës, Albania), initiated the first military response against the rebellion. He mobilized his forces and set off to fight Deleanos. During his march, however, an officer named Michael Dermokaites set in motion a plot to take over his boss’ command. Dermokaites sent a message to Emperor Michael IV, claiming that Synadenos was going to become a rebel. The emperor believed the claim and responded by removing Basil Synadenos from his post and replacing him with the informant. Dermokaites, however, was said to have been an incompetent and tyrannical commander, ultimately causing the soldiers from Dyrrachion to mutiny. In the end, instead of crushing the rebellion, the garrison of Dyrrachion united under a man named Teichomeros, whom they proclaimed was the rightful emperor of Bulgaria.

When Peter Deleanos heard that another rebel leader was touting a claim to Bulgaria, he invited this new claimant and his army to a meeting. Unfortunately, the original leader had no intention of working with the new upstart. According to John Skylitzes, Peter Daleanos again charismatically used his claim of Bulgarian and Hungarian royal blood to bring the soldiers from Dyrrachion over to his side. The event allegedly ended with Teichomeros being stoned to death by the united rebel force.

Even though Deleanos had rid himself of a rival, his bid for power would ultimately be toppled by another high-profile member of the rebellion. Before the year 1040 was over, after Deleanos had defeated a Byzantine army near Thebes, a well-connected man named Alousianos joined the rebellion. He had been the commander of Theodosioupolis and owned an enviable estate, yet he rebelled after the emperor’s advisors brought charges against him, threatening to seize his land and wealth. Deleanos accepted the newcomer into the rebellion and even gave him an army. Alousianos used the force in an unsuccessful assault on Thessalonike and then regrouped his depressed force with Deleanos. Nevertheless, neither leader trusted the other. In the end, Alousianos struck first. John Skylitzes claimed that Alousianos held a large banquet in honor of the founder of the rebellion. After letting Peter Deleanos get incredibly drunk, Alousianos seized the man and had him blinded. In Michael Psellus’ account of the incident, Alousianos also removed Deleanos’ nose with a culinary knife.

After mutilating the rebellion’s leader, Alousianos abandoned the rebel army and surrendered himself to Emperor Michael IV. The emperor, for his part, did not punish the former rebel—instead, he promoted Alousianos to the rank of magister for his gruesome deed. The emperor then rallied his forces against the Bulgarians and captured their blinded, noseless, leader. In 1041, Peter Deleanos was paraded through Constantinople and put on display in the Hippodrome. The historians, Skylitzes and Psellus, did not mention the rebel leader’s ultimate fate, but it was likely not a pleasant end.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Illustration from the Skylitzes Chronicle of Byzantine History, c. 11th-12th Century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and Pinterest)

Sources:

• John Skylitzes. A Synopsis of Byzantine History: 811-1057, translated by John Wortley. Original text c. 11^th or early 12^th century. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010. 
• https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/basis/psellus-chrono04.asp 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Samuel-tsar-of-western-Bulgaria  

The Unsuccessful Successes Of King Svein II of Denmark

King Magnus the Good of Norway gained possession of the kingdom of Denmark in 1042, after having made a deal with the Danish king that whoever lived the longest would inherit the kingdom of the other. King Magnus appointed a noble named Svein Ulfsson, also known as Sweyn Estridsen, as an earl in charge of the region of Denmark. This curious nobleman would go on to regain independence for Denmark and set up a dynasty that would rule for centuries. Spectacularly, Svein accomplished this feat despite losing a wide majority of the battles he fought.

Around 1043, Earl Svein rebelled against Magnus the Good while the Norwegian monarch was busy campaigning against the Wends. Hearing the news, King Magnus quickly returned to Denmark in order to put down the rebellion. By 1045, King Magnus had successfully defeated Svein Ulfsson in three major battles, the last of which was the battle of Helganess. Despite this, the Danes continued to resist and when King Magnus the Good died in 1047, Earl Svein took control of Denmark as King Svein II.

Even though King Magnus the Good was dead, Denmark’s Norwegian problem was far from over. The new king of Norway, Harald III (r. 1045-1066), also known as Harald the Hard-ruler or Harald the Ruthless, was determined to bring Denmark back into subjugation, or at least to plunder land for wealth. He kept up constant raids into Denmark and won a major victory against King Svein’s forces at Nissa in 1062. Despite the constant military losses, King Svein must have been a brilliant diplomat—he kept his vassals happy, managed to stay alive and, by 1064, made peace with King Harald, who was planning an ill-fated invasion of Britain.

King Harald III invaded Britain in 1066, almost simultaneously with William the Conqueror of Normandy. Harald was killed on September 25, 1066, at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. Just a few days later, on October 14, William the Conqueror defeated the Anglo-Saxon king, Harold Godwinson, at the Battle of Hastings and claimed the English throne for himself.

When he heard of the Norwegian king’s death, Svein II decided to make a move against Harald’s successors. The campaign, like most of Svein’s other military maneuvers, did not end in victory. Harald’s sons, Magnus Haraldsson and Olaf the Quiet, fought off the Danish advance and secured some much-needed peace for Norway.

King Svein II, like his deceased Norwegian tormentor, also had ambitions in Britain. He took advantage of Anglo-Saxon rebellions against William the Conqueror to launch an invasion into York in 1069. Nevertheless, his troops were quickly outmatched by the Norman military and the Danes were forced to make peace by 1070. After this, King Svein seemingly settled down to more peaceful ambitions, particularly religion and scholarship. After a paradoxical life of military losses, but political victories, King Svein II of Denmark died in 1074. His descendants would continue to rule Denmark for around three centuries.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Social media format and edited Eighteenth-century engraving of the early English kings Sweyn, Olaus, Edmund II, and Canute National Portrait Gallery(ER14679), National Portrait Gallery, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• King Harald’s Saga, by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Magnus Mangusson and Hermann Pálsson. New York: Penguin Books, 1966, 2005. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Sweyn-II-Estridsen 
• https://www.royal.uk/william-i-conqueror-r-1066-1087 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/William-I-king-of-England 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harald-III-Sigurdsson  

The Omens Reported To Have Occurred Before The Assassination Of Emperor Claudius

Nearly all of the ancient sources agreed that Emperor Claudius died on October 13, in the year 54. The exact method of death and the number of accomplices in the conspiracy varied from source to source, but the emperor’s wife, Agrippina the Younger, was usually the prime suspect and poison was almost always proposed as her weapon of choice. According to the Roman historian and statesman, Tacitus (c. 56-117), there may have been several signs that could have alerted Claudius to the impending danger—there was allegedly a significant uptick in bizarre anomalies and omens leading up to the emperor’s assassination.

It is vague if Claudius would have listened to any such omens. On the one hand, he was said to have set up a board of soothsayers in the year 47, or at least put pressure on the Senate to make sure soothsayers were given monetary support. Imperial backing for divination, however, wavered in the year 52, when Lucius Arruntius Furius Scribonianus was exiled after allegedly contracting with astrologers to predict the emperor’s death. In the aftermath of the trial, the Senate imposed a decree that attempted to ban all astrologers from operating in Italy.

Despite the recent decree against astrology, Romans apparently continued to take note of the omens that they saw. Tacitus, like other Roman and Greek historians before and after him, decided to record these omens in his account of Claudius’ reign in the text, The Annals of Imperial Rome. Without further ado, here are the bizarre omens allegedly witnessed by ancient historians that foreshadowed the death of Emperor Claudius:

• A mysterious fire set several military tents and standards ablaze. The inferno, however, was no ordinary fire. The flames were said to have fallen from the sky. 
• A swarm of bees set up their hive in the Capitoline temple. 
• Among the livestock of Rome, a pig was born with the claws of a hawk. 
• Human births were also recorded as omens—some newborns reportedly had bodies that appeared to be half beast. 
• Finally, Tacitus claimed that virtually every government office in Rome suffered a death in the space of a few months. These suspicious deaths supposedly affected the offices of quaestor, aedile, tribune, praetor and consul. After not heeding the omens, the emperor, too, followed these other officials to the realm of the dead.

 

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Modified image based on a 1st century portrait/bust of Roman Emperor Claudius (r. 41-54), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Annals of Imperial Rome (Chapter 10) by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996.

 

The Legend of Emperor Gaozu’s Abnormal Conception And Birth

Many of the rebel leaders that participated in toppling the Qin Dynasty of China were commoners who began as mere militia leaders and village officials. The future first emperor of the Han Dynasty, Emperor Gaozu, was no exception. He was born with the name, Liu Bang, near the city of Feng, in the region of Peixian (modern Jiangsu province). He was a smart man who eventually qualified to become the leader of a village along the Si River. Yet, he was still common enough to be selected as an unpaid laborer sent to work in the Qin capital of Xianyang. Nevertheless, in times of chaos, titles of nobility can also be attained through strength. Therefore, when widespread rebellions broke out in 209 BCE, Liu Bang first seized the governorship of Pei, then became the king of Han and, finally, was proclaimed Emperor Gaozu, founder of the Han Dynasty.

Compared to the long noble line of the Qin kings and emperors, many ancient Chinese people could or would not believe that a commoner could become an emperor. Possibly to assuage these concerns, a rumor soon spread that the emperor had been no mere commoner. Even though Emperor Gaozu had mortal parents, dubbed the “Venerable Sire” and “Dame Liu” by the Grand Historian, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), rumor and propaganda spread that the new Han emperor had a very unnatural birth. Like many rulers across the globe, Emperor Gaozu was said to have dissemenated the idea that his father was not a mortal, but actually a mystical being of great power.

As the story goes, Emperor Gaozu’s mother, Dame Liu, was napping beside a pond one day when, in her dream-state, she was visited by an entity she could only define as a god. Dame Liu’s husband, the Venerable Sire, was, at the time, walking to the pond. He supposedly witnessed clouds condense and darken, releasing bolts of lighting. When he finally arrived where his wife was napping, he was said to have seen a red-scaled dragon, later identified as the “Red Emperor,” leaving the scene.

Not long after this draconic encounter, Dame Liu became pregnant with Emperor Gaozu. According to Sima Qian, the emperor’s own appearance added credence to the tale, for he supposedly had a face that remarkably resembled a dragon. As if the birth was not special enough, Sima Qian noted that Emperor Gaozu had on his left thigh seventy-two moles, which was considered a mystical number. Sima Qian also claimed that Emperor Gaozu made his banners red to honor the Red Emperor, the dragon alleged to have been his father.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (A portrait painting of Emperor Gaozu of Han (Liu Bang), from an 18th-century Qing Dynasty album of Chinese emperors' portraits, in front of a Red Dragon by Tsange, both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Gaozu-emperor-of-Han-dynasty 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Han_Dynasty/ 
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Han/personshangaozu.html  

The Brilliant Scheme Used By Musaraf Against The Byzantine Empire

In the year 1029, Michael Spondyles, the leader of the Byzantine forces in Antioch, led his troops in an attack against the Muslim-controlled region of Aleppo. Spondyles did not launch his attack arbitrarily—the reigning prince of Aleppo, Halih ibn Mirdas, had recently died while battling the Fatimid Caliphate. As such, the Byzantine military leader thought that the sudden void of leadership would leave Aleppo vulnerable to attack. Nevertheless, theory did not turn into reality, for the defense put forward by the sons of the late prince of Aleppo soundly defeated the Byzantine forces.

With his army in disarray, Michael Spondyles fled back to Antioch. While he was there, Spondyles received word that a prisoner of war wanted to defect and fight for the Byzantine emperor. The prisoner’s name was Nalr ben Musaraf, a leader of several villages located in the mountains of Rawadifi. Musaraf proposed that if a new fortress were built in the region of Maniqa, he would personally use it to wreck havoc on the enemies of the Byzantine Empire. Despite the plan coming from a prisoner of war, Michael Spondyles apparently decided to take the man’s offer. Word of this new defector must have also been sent back to the Byzantine capital of Constantinople, for Emperor Romanos III elevated Musaraf to the rank of patrician.

Nalr ben Musaraf was given written permission allowing him to build a fortress at Maniqa. The historian John Skylitzes (flourished 11th-century) even alleged that the Byzantine Empire spent its own resources on Musaraf’s construction project. When the brand new fortress was completed and garrisoned with around a thousand soldiers, it was handed over to the care of Musaraf.

Unfortunately for Michael Spondyles, Nalr ben Musaraf did not intend to work with the Byzantine Empire for long. When he was finally put in command of his own pristine fortress, Musaraf lost no time in sending word to Tripoli and Egypt of his good fortune. With support from his Muslim allies, Musaraf slaughtered the Byzantine garrison at Maniqa and even captured another fortress at Bikisa’il. After he had conquered the region, Musaraf used the location as a base for raids against Byzantine positions in Syria. Understandably, the emperor removed Michael Spondyles from his post after news spread of Musaraf’s bold betrayal.

The good fortune of Musaraf, however, would soon fade entirely. The Byzantine Empire kept up the pressure, eventually forcing Musaraf out of Maniqa. He later died in a battle against Byzantine forces in 1032, while fighting in Tripoli.

Written by C. Keith Hansely.

Picture Attribution: (the Madrid Skylitzes, fol. 100v, detail. Miniature- The Arab conquest of Syracuse (in 878). Painted c. 11-13th century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• John Skylitzes. A Synopsis of Byzantine History: 811-1057, translated by John Wortley. Original text c. 11^th or early 12^th century. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010.  
• https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/basis/psellus-chrono03.asp 
• http://en.academic.ru/dic.nsf/enwiki/4686510  

The Poetry Behind Snorri Sturluson’s Scandinavian History

Any person who enjoys learning about the history and religion of ancient and medieval Northern European countries is heavily indebted to a curious Icelandic chieftain named Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241). Between his schemes for power in Iceland, and his travels to Norway and Sweden for political support, Sturluson somehow managed to write down several books of mythology and history.  His treasure-trove of Norse mythology was preserved in The Prose Edda, while his dramatic collection of biographical sagas on centuries of Norwegian kings was collected into the Heimskringla.

Understandably, it took considerable effort for Snorri Sturluson to gather the information required to produce works that, in many ways, still serve as the foundational pieces of Scandinavian studies. The great scholar-chieftain had multiple types of sources. For one, he was an Icelander, so he had easy access to an array of Icelandic sagas that were written before his own life. He also made use of historical texts, such as works of the Icelander, Ari Thorgilsson the Learned (1067-1148), as well as numerous other existent biographies and histories devoted to important figures. In addition, Snorri Sturluson made use of oral tradition, pulling on tales he collected in Iceland, Norway and Sweden. Yet, there was another source of information that Sturluson heavily relied upon. Believe it or not, poetry was one of his greatest assets.

Even though poems written about Scandinavian kings (or any monarchs anywhere) were often overly flattering and grandiosely embellished, Snorri Sturluson deemed them to be full of historical detail. As a poet who had, himself, written verse for kings, Snorri Sturluson believed it was not in the best interest of court poets to overtly lie about the deeds of living rulers. Gilded truth would be rewarded, but baseless lies could be ridiculed. As such, Sturluson believed in the validity of poems that had been produced and recited during the lifetime of their respective royal subjects.

Even though Sturluson’s use of poetry as historical evidence may unnerve many modern historians, it served Snorri Sturluson’s purposes well. Like many ancient and medieval historians, Sturluson’s motivation was not necessarily just to write down the events of the past as they really happened—he was also an entertainer who was willing to sacrifice some historical accuracy for emotion and artistry. Despite all this, his writings preserved for later generations the names, locations, ideas and events of times past that may have otherwise been lost, and did so with enough accuracy to secure him recognition as a vital piece to Scandinavian history.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image of an Icelandic Althing, c. 1904, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

The Prose Edda, by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Jesse Byock. New York: Penguin Books, 2005.

King Harald’s Saga, by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Magnus Magnusson and Hermann Pálsson. New York: Penguin Books, 1966, 2005.

The Scandalous Murder Of Pontia In Ancient Rome

Around the year 58, a dramatic crime of passion occurred in the city of Rome. The main source that recorded this crime was Tacitus. Even though he was only one or two years old at the time of the crime, the notoriety of the infamous murder must have lingered. After decades had passed, Tacitus preserved the crime in writing with a surprisingly detailed account of the killing in his Annals of Imperial Rome.

According to the historian, the victim of the murderous crime that occurred in the year 58 was a noblewoman named Pontia. Although she was a married woman, Pontia became engaged in a serious affair with a Roman tribune named Octavius Sagitta. The tribune was so enamored with Pontia that he offered her a fortune (of unknown quantity) in hopes that it would convince her to leave her husband. The tribune’s intention was to marry Pontia, and she apparently made similar promises. Pontia, indeed, took the money and even divorced her husband. Yet, she resisted the tribune’s offers of marriage. Tacitus claimed she was waiting to see if men of greater influence would take notice of her availability and the newfound fortune she possessed. While Pontia waited for other suitors, Octavius Sagitta’s reputation and status plummeted.

With his wealth gone and his name tarnished, Sagitta unsurprisingly became a bitter man. On an unfortunate night, the tribune invited his former lover to visit him one last time. Tacitus dramatically claimed that during this late night meeting, Pontia agreed to let Octavius Sagitta have his money’s worth of pleasure for the fortune that he had given her, on the condition that they would afterward part forever. Although this was the supposed plan, Sagitta had unfortunately not initiated this encounter for mere pleasure. At some point on that fateful evening, Octavius Sagitta viciously stabbed Pontia to death. His victim, however, had not traveled alone that night—Pontia’s maid frantically rushed into the room when she heard unnerving sounds. After stabbing the maid, too, the tribune fled the building and disappeared into the night.

Sometime after sunrise, the victims were discovered. Pontia was beyond help, but her maid was still alive, although she was in critical condition. Rumors about Pontia’s affairs had been rampant, so Octavius Sagitta was immediately a prime suspect. Instead of confessing, the tribune framed an ex-slave as the murderer, although Tacitus suggests this unnamed man may have volunteered to take the blame. Unbelievably, this scheme apparently worked and some people began to believe that the tribune was innocent. Nevertheless, the injured maid recovered and testified against Octavius Sagitta. Upon hearing the maid’s testimony, the Roman Senate found Sagitta guilty of murder.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture attribution: (Caesar Walking to his death, painted by Abel de Pujol  (1785–1861), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996.

The Great Successes And Horrible Betrayals Of The Qin General, Zhang Han

At the time of the widespread revolts against the Qin Dynasty, in 209 BCE, Zhang Han was one of the leading generals charged with crushing the rebellion. He is first mentioned as having been stationed as a treasurer at the First Emperor of Qin’s tomb, made famous by its terracotta warriors. When the rebellion broke out, he conscripted the local laborers and set out against the rebel forces. Zhang Han formed his recruits into a fighting force and crushed a rebel army led by a man named Zhou Wen. After a series of battles, Zhou Wen ultimately committed suicide.

Zhang Han continued to march his troops against rebel forces, who were beginning to consolidate under a leader named Chen She. The Qin general broke up a rebel siege at the city of Xingyang. Chasing the momentum, Zhang Han attacked several more rebel leaders—he scattered one band led by a man named Deng Yue and shortly thereafter defeated more rebels led by a certain Wu Xu. Finally, Zhang Han marched his troops toward the most influential rebel leaders. In the resulting battle, the Qin forces killed a major rebel general named Zhang Jia, and the original agitator of the revolt, Chen She, was assassinated not too long after the battle.

Although Zhang Han had not personally killed Chen She, he would have a much more hands-on involvement in the death of Chen She’s successor, Xiang Liang. When Zhang Han’s forces moved against Xiang Liang, the rebel leader sent two of his own generals out to challenge the approaching Qin forces. The two unlucky generals, a certain Yu Fanjun and Zhu Jishi, met the Qin in battle near the region of Li. In the resulting defeat, the former rebel was killed in battle and the latter was executed when he returned to his boss.

Despite the loss, the rebel hegemon, Xiang Liang, won a string of victories against the Qin. Yet, in 208 BCE, Zhang Han received more reinforcements and attacked Xiang Liang at the city of Dingtao and killed the rebel leader. Following the victory, Zhang Han moved his forces against the region of Zhao.

In the aftermath of Dingtao, Xiang Liang’s nephew, Xiang Yu, took control of the rebel forces. He proved to be a much more deadly force than his uncle. Xiang Yu annihilated a Qin army at the city of Julu. After that victory, he positioned his army across the Zhang River from Zhang Han’s own camp at Jiyuan. By this time, the Qin general supposedly feared that he had fallen out of favor with his emperor and began to send messages proposing an alliance with Xiang Yu. Despite the messages, the rebels attacked Zhang Han at least two more times before they considered his offer. According to the Grand Historian Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), Zhang Han was accepted into the rebellion and was crowned as the rebel king of Yong. The Qin troops he had been leading, however, were not so lucky—Sima Qian wrote that 200,000 of Zhang Han’s former troops were executed.

Unfortunately for Zhang Han, his kingdom of Yong was adjacent to the kingdom of Han. In 205 BCE, Liu Bang, the future first emperor of the Han Dynasty conquered Yong, prompting Zhang Han to commit suicide.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Mausoleum Terracotta Army of the Qin Emperor, [Public Domain] via maxpixel.freegreatpicture.com).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993. 
• http://www.historyofwar.org/articles/people_zhang_han.html 
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Zhou/personszhanghan.html