Sunday, October 21, 2018

Emperor Claudius’ Giggly Debut As A Historian



Despite being portrayed unglamorously by ancient Roman historians as a stumbling, bumbling, stammering, drooling, and nervously-ticking idiot, Emperor Claudius (r. 41-54) was likely one of the more scholarly emperors of Rome. The biographer, Suetonius (c. 70-130+), joined in describing the emperor unflatteringly, but he also hinted at there being another side to the man when he reported that Claudius was a multilingual author who published a forty-three-volume history of Rome, an eight-volume history of Carthage, a twenty-volume history on the Etruscans and an eight-volume autobiography. In addition to these major works, emperor Claudius also wrote a piece defending the late Roman orator, Cicero, and even published a book about the Roman alphabet. Suetonius further reported that Claudius’ Greek works were placed in a so-called Claudian Wing within the Library of Alexandria. Sadly, his many texts are lost except for small fragments.

Despite the speech and movement impediments that unfortunately caused the emperor to be ceaselessly teased and undervalued by the senatorial class and even his own family, Claudius reportedly decided to debut his Roman history with a public reading. If the event truly occurred as Suetonius claimed, then none of the Romans present at the reading would ever forget their experience.

As the story goes, Claudius was just beginning his public reading when a late arrival tried to sneak his way into the audience. The latecomer, however, was evidently a very, very obese man, so his wading through the crowd was in no way subtle. Nonetheless, the late person eventually reached a bench with available space and quickly lowered his weight onto the wooden seat. With the eyes of the audience, and Claudius too, curiously following the large fellow, the unfortunate latecomer broke the bench with his immense bulk, consequently sending himself and his bench neighbors tumbling to the ground. Lamentably for the heavy gentleman, the bizarre sight caused the attending audience to roar with uncontrollable laughter and, as Claudius was also known to be a man prone to laughing fits, he happily joined in with the mirth of the crowd.

After a while, the audience calmed down and their laughter subsided again to attentive silence. With everyone settled, the public reading resumed. Nevertheless, Claudius was apparently unable to banish the image of the seating tumult from his mind. Every time he attempted to begin narrating his history, he recalled the collapse of the bench and the flailing arms of surprised Romans. With such mental imagery bubbling up to the forefront of his mind, he found he could not finish a sentence before a giggle or a renewed bout of laughter interrupted his speech. Suetonius did not record if Claudius was able to finish that debut or if he gave up in the end. Whatever the case, Claudius eventually decided to hire professional orators to deliver public readings of his future written works.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Caractacus Pleading Before the Emperor Claudius in Rome, by Thomas Banks, 1774-1777, marble - Stowe House - Buckinghamshire, England. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Medieval Bishop Bricius And The Miraculous Talking Baby



Saint Bricius (or Brice) was a peculiar bishop who oversaw the bishopric of Tours from 397 to 444. His predecessor and mentor in Tours was Saint Martin (bishop, r. 371-397), yet Bricius was not an ideal understudy. While St. Martin lived, Bricius was allegedly a moody, skeptical, overly sarcastic and jealous man, especially toward his mentor. Even so, Bricius was ordained as a priest and, for whatever reason, St. Martin named him as heir to the bishopric of Tours.

Despite St. Martin’s faith in his successor, Bricius received only a lukewarm reception from the people he was meant to be shepherding. Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), a future bishop of the region, wrote about the chaotic relationship between Bricius and his congregation in his text, The History of the Franks. According to Gregory’s account, Bricius was eventually accused of being the father of a washwoman’s newborn boy. The people of Tours were so ill disposed against their bishop that they immediately believed the accuser and decided to stone Bricius to death. The bishop, however, gained permission to try and prove his innocence. To do this, he relied on the signature move of ancient saints—miracles.

According to Gregory of Tours, Bricius had the washwoman’s baby brought before him in view of all the townspeople. Summoning all of his clerical power, the bishop commanded the newborn, in the name of Jesus, to proclaim for the congregation whether or not Bricias was his father. If the local tradition of Tours is to be believed, the baby was indeed compelled to tell the truth and, even though he could not yet talk, the newborn eloquently exclaimed, “you are not my father” (History of the Franks, Book II). After stating this short sentence, the baby lost the power of speech and once more took on the characteristics of the average newborn baby.

The town’s dislike for Bricius, however, made them skeptical of the miraculous baby. Rather than take the baby’s words as proof of the bishop’s innocence, the people of Tours instead accused Bricius of using diabolical magic to make the child speak. Now that the bishop needed to clear himself of an additional charge, one that was more serious than the first, he decided to perform a second miracle. Once more, Bricius gathered the people of Tours to witness something spectacular. According to Gregory of Tours, the bishop now filled his cassock (clerical robe) with burning coals and walked with the fiery cinders pressed against his skin until he reached the nearby tomb of Saint Martin. Upon arriving at the tomb, Bricius poured out the coals from his clothing and triumphantly showed the people of Tours that there was not a burn to be found on his skin or a scorch to be seen on his robe. The bishop, however, was held in such little esteem that these miracles were dismissed as flukes and Bricius was exiled.

The exiled bishop fled to Rome and the people of Tours elected for themselves two successive bishops, named Justinian and Armentius. Bricius, however, was technically still the bishop, as Justinian and Armentius were considered illegitimate by the pope and also by Gregory of Tours. After the death of Armentius, the city of Tours finally accepted Bricius back into the community and let him resume his role as bishop until his death in 444.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image about the life of St. Martin, painted by    Master of Jean Rolin II  (fl. from 1440 until 1465), [Public Domain] via Dutch National Library and Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
  • https://catholicsaints.info/saint-brice-of-tours/  
  • https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=335   

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

A Costumed Caligula Spent Days Enjoying A Bridge Across The Bay Of Bauli



On the western end of the Gulf of Naples lies the Bay of Bauli. Around the year 39, Emperor Caligula (r. 37-41) decided to bridge that bay by linking together the sea towns of Baiae and Puteoli, which were separated by miles of water. In the days of Caligula’s predecessors, if the Romans wanted to temporarily bridge a waterway, they would bind together pontoon rafts to create a floating platform across the water. Caligula had something similar in mind, but mere rafts were too common for this emperor.

Instead of simple pontoon rafts, Caligula allegedly commandeered whole ships from the local merchant fleet in the Naples region and rigged them together into a makeshift bridge. To level out the ships of various sizes, the emperor had the vessels boarded over with planks and covered with soil. When the final ship was put in place, linking Baiae to Puteoli, the bridge of ships and earth reportedly stretched over three miles. After the completion of the bridge, Caligula decided he needed to give sacrificial thanks to the sea deities—to do this, he allegedly lured an unfortunate group of people out onto a deep section of the bridge and had them drowned in the bay.

To celebrate the completion of the bridge, the excited and proud Caligula set aside two days from his busy schedule in order to enjoy the new path across the bay. According to Suetonius (c. 70-130+), Caligula spent the first day trotting back and forth across the bridge on a decorated horse, while wearing a gold-cloth cloak, a civic crown, and a sword and shield. On the second day, the emperor’s extravagance was even greater. That day, the emperor reportedly led a parade of chariots across the bridge. Caligula, at the head of the party, personally dressed up in the wardrobe of a charioteer, possibly looking like a member of the Greens, the emperor’s favorite racing faction.

After the two days of marching back and forth across the bridge in various costumes, Caligula seemingly lost interest in the great floating platform. Historical records rarely, if ever, mention Caligula returning to the spot and the bridge presumably was dismantled not long after its construction.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Right part of a plaque from the Altar of Domitius Ahenobarbus known as the “Census frieze”. Marble, Roman artwork of the late 2nd century BC. From the Campo Marzio, Rome. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Caligula-Roman-emperor 
  • https://www.history.com/topics/ancient-history/caligula  

Monday, October 15, 2018

The Bizarre Relationship Between Emperor Gaozu And Confucian Scholars



During the short reign of the Qin Dynasty (c. 221-206 BCE), the philosophy of Confucius was pushed to the wayside in preference of legalism. Yet, when Emperor Gaozu became Supreme Emperor of China in 202 BCE, founding the Han Dynasty out of the ashes of the fallen Qin Empire, Confucianism was brought back to prominence. Nevertheless, although Emperor Gaozu ultimately reinstituted Confucianism as a central philosophy to his government, his relationship with the Confucian scholars in his court was surprisingly less than cordial.

Sima Qian, a court historian for the Han Dynasty who lived around 145-90 BCE, wrote that Emperor Gaozu, especially in his early years, despised Confucian scholars—the emperor did not like their uniforms, he loathed their lecturing tone, and he always took every oportunity to criticize the scholars in public. Worst of all, Emperor Gaozu supposedly had the horrible habit of snatching the hats off the heads of Confucian scholars and then urinating into the garments. According to Sima Qian, this was not a one-time thing for the emperor; for a long period of his life, the emperor allegedly urinated in the hat of any Confucian that came within his arms’ reach.

Nevertheless, during his bid to seize power and his reign as emperor, Gaozu gradually had a change of heart toward Confucianism, or at least toward specific followers of the philosophy. After achieving his title of emperor, Gaozu appointed a man named Shusun Tong, a Confucian scholar, to the court erudites and bequeathed him a noble rank as lord of Jisi. By 198 BCE, Shusun Tong had gained so much favor with the emperor that he was named Master of Ritual and Grand Tutor to the heir, the future Emperor Hui. Shusun Tong had a major impact during his role as Master of Ritual for Emperors Gaozu and Hui, as he organized the ceremonial rules, procedures and funerary rites for the Han Dynasty and did so based on his Confucian philosophy.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Ancient painting from inside the tomb of Princess Yongtai, Xian, China, [Public Domain] via publicdomainpictures.net).

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

Sunday, October 14, 2018

The Murderous Kings Of the Grove Who Oversaw The Temple Of Diana At Aricias



In the ancient world, a person traveling southeast from Rome along the Appian Way toward Aricias would eventually see a rectangular temple of the goddess Diana, which was situated to overlook the nearby Lake Nemi. In charge of this temple was one of the most peculiar priests of the ancient world—the rex Nemorensis or “King of the Grove.”

Several ancient scholars wrote about these bizarre priests, including Suetonius, Ovid, Pausanias and Servius. According to the accounts of these men, there could only be one King of the Grove at any given time. This king lived in luxury—before it was destroyed in the 2nd century, the temple of Diana at lake Nemi supposedly had a golden roof, an artificial terrace, abundant masterful sculptures, a bath, a granary and even a small theatre. Yet, despite the beautiful scenery and the impressive title, the position of King of the Grove was a job that most people would not want.

According to the ancients, there were specific requirements that a person needed to meet before they could become a King of the Grove. The first step was to be enslaved and then escape, for only an escaped slave could become King of the Grove. After escape, the runaway slave needed to successfully reach the temple of Diana at Lake Nemi. Once at the temple, the true initiation began. There were no understudies, apprenticeships or seminaries at the temple—these priests of the goddess of the hunt had a different process for succession.

When the claimant to the priesthood worked up enough courage, he would supposedly break off a branch from a sacred oak tree on the temple compound, thereby warning the current King of the Grove that a new contender had arrived. With the breaking of the bough, the hunt began. The ancient sources were vague on which hunting tactics the claimant would use, be it a duel or ambush, but the only way the escaped slave could become the new priest of the temple was to kill the reigning King of the Grove. Either way, it was not an easy task, for the hunted priest had once been the hunter. The Kings of the Grove intimately knew how succession worked in the temple of Diana, so they were constantly watching new arrivals with a paranoid eye and always had a weapon on hand. Nevertheless, no matter how careful they were, the Kings of the Grove would inevitably fall to new successors, either because of mistakes or age. With that baptism by blood, the successful contender would don the title of King of the Grove and spend the rest of his life warily watching for broken branches in the sacred grove.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Mosaic depicting the goddess Diana, c. 2nd century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.
  • http://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/miscellanea/nemi/rex.html 
  • http://classics.oxfordre.com/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-5567 
  • https://www.jstor.org/stable/3269555?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents  

Thursday, October 11, 2018

The Bizarre Way The Norwegian Earl Sigurd Of Orkney Supposedly Died


History about the Scandinavian settlement of British islands, such as the Shetland Islands, the Orkney Islands and the Hebrides, is dubious at best, even during the better-documented times when Harald Finehair was attempting to spread his influence over those regions. Anglo-Saxon sources, such as the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles and Asser’s Life of King Alfred were more likely to comment on Viking activity in mainland Britain and France than on Scandinavian settlements in the islands of the northern British Isles. Consequently, written history about the medieval Orkney and Shetland Islands has been overwhelmingly shaped by the most prolific lore-keepers of the Scandinavian world—the Icelanders.

Orkney, Shetland, the Hebrides, the Isle of Man, and Ireland were natural stopping points for Vikings who were sailing around the British Isles, looking for settlements to loot. Viking raids in Britain had begun as early as the 790s in the north, and had spread to the southern British kingdoms by the 830s. Viking activity increased dramatically in 865, with the arrival of the so-called Great Heathen Army. King Alfred the Great of Wessex finally forced this army to leave his kingdom in 878, after many years of back-and-forth fighting.  Another Great Heathen Army tried its luck against King Alfred in 892, but the Anglo-Saxon king had improved his kingdom’s defenses by then and the Vikings were driven away by 896.

King Harald Finehair (c. 860-940) was born in the midst of this Viking Age, yet he showed little interest in plundering foreign lands. Instead, while his peers sailed away to raid distant lands, Harald Finehair instead stayed home and spread his influence throughout Norway, becoming the king of the whole region sometime between the years 885 and 900. Only after Harald had become king of all Norway did he reportedly turn his gaze toward Britain, and did so because displaced Norwegians were launching Viking raids against Harald’s kingdom from Shetland, Orkney and other Viking hubs. Therefore, Harald’s navy set sail toward Britain, not to raid the Anglo-Saxons, but to punish the Vikings.

The Saga of Harald Finehair (from Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla) and the Orkneyinga saga, both written in 13th-century Iceland, give an account of Harald’s campaign. The Heimskringla claimed that Harald Finehair campaigned successively from the Shetland Islands, to the Orkneys, to the Hebrides, and then all the way down to the Isle of Man. The Heimskringla and the Orkneyinga saga both agree that King Harald gave Shetland and Orkney to Earl Rognvald, who subsequently handed the islands over to his brother, Sigurd. Earl Sigurd allied with Thorstein the Red (a member of the family that gained controlled the Hebrides) and together they meddled in Scottish affairs, going as far as invading Scotland through Caithness. The sagas agreed that the Norwegians encountered stiff Scottish resistance, led by a certain Scot nobleman whom the Icelandic authors named Maelbricht Tooth, and, according to the Laxdæla saga, Thorstein the Red was eventually killed by the Scots. Earl Sigurd, however, continued the war effort and reportedly slew Maelbricht Tooth.

As the Heimskringla and Orkneyinga saga tell it, Earl Sigurd’s pride at overcoming Maelbricht led him to create a morbid trophy from the skull of his fallen Scottish rival. The Orkneyinga saga suggested that Maelbricht naturally had bizarre protruding teeth. The Heimskringla, however, claimed that Earl Sigurd added tusks to the skull to make the trophy all the more intimidating. Whatever the case, both sagas agreed that Earl Sigurd hung the skull from the saddle strap of his horse.

One day, while Earl Sigurd was riding around his domain, showing off his trophy as he went, the earl accidentally stabbed his leg on the protruding tooth or tusk from Maelbricht’s skull. The wound quickly became infected and eventually led to the inglorious death of Earl Sigurd.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Scene from the Halvdan Svartes saga, by Gerhard Munthe (1849–1929), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
  • Orkneyinga saga in The Viking Age: A Reader, edited by Angus A. Somerville and R. Andrew McDonald. Ontario: University of Toronto Press, 2010.  
  • Laxdæla saga in The Viking Age: A Reader, edited by Angus A. Somerville and R. Andrew McDonald. Ontario: University of Toronto Press, 2010. 
  • Asser’s Life of King Alfred and Other Contemporary Sources translated, introduced and denoted by Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge. New York: Penguin Classics, 2004.  

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

According To Gregory Of Tours, His City Obtained The Body Of Saint Martin By Theft



St. Martin was a 4th-century saint who was born in the Roman province of Pannonia and eventually settled in Gaul. He came to be a prominent and respected religious figure in the region of Poitiers, where he ultimately founded a community of religious hermits. About the year 371, however, he became the bishop of Tours, a position he held until his death around 397.

According to legend, Saint Martin performed miracles throughout his life. Yet, the distribution of his miracles was not equal—he reportedly performed more miracles before becoming bishop of Tours than after receiving the post. This unequal dissemination of holy marvels caused some drama after Martin’s death.

Saint Martin died while visiting the village of Candes, which ironically was in a fairly equidistant location between Tours and Poitiers. As a result, people from both cities were in attendance while St. Martin was on his deathbed. After the saint breathed his last, the representatives of both Tours and Poitiers immediately began vying for control of Martin’s saintly remains.

On the one hand, Tours had the advantage of Martin being their long-serving bishop. Yet, Poitiers could tout the claim that the majority of Martin’s miracles had occurred in the vicinity of their city. According to Bishop Gregory of Tours (r. 573-594) in his History of the Franks (Book I), the people of Poitiers proudly bragged that Martin had resurrected two people in their city, whereas the saint had only brought one person back to life in Tours. Pointing to the resurrections and other miracles, Poitiers asserted that they were the obvious choice for the tomb of Saint Martin. Tours countered the argument by proposing that since Poitiers had been amply graced with so many miracles by the saint during his life, it was only fair that the remains of Saint Martin to be entombed in Tours, so that the body of the late bishop could bestow postmortem marvels on his miracle-deprived bishopric in death. As can be expected, however, both sides in the debate stubbornly refused to concede to the other faction’s argument and the destination of Saint Martin’s body remained undecided.

According to Gregory of Tours, his city ultimately obtained the saint’s remains in a peculiar way. As the story goes, the people of Poitiers had the advantage during the debate. The body of the saint was locked in a room for the night and the faction from Poitiers insisted that the saint’s remains would be leaving for their city when dawn arrived, with or without the permission of their opposition. Even so, the group from Tours did not intend to leave Candes without their former bishop’s body. That night all of the people from Poitiers fell into a deep sleep, which, according to Gregory of Tours, was divinely inspired. The representatives of Tours quickly noticed that none of their rivals were keeping an eye on the coveted body of the saint. Therefore, they scrambled to seize their unguarded prize.

The party from Tours quickly split up to accomplish different tasks. Some ventured off to procure a boat on the Vienne River. Others entered the room where Saint Martin’s body lay (either by window or by key), while the rest of the group remained on watch outside the building, positioning themselves by a window. The people inside the room respectfully carried the body of their saintly bishop to the window in question, where they passed the body to the people standing outside. With the saint’s remains exfiltrated from the locked room, the group rushed to the Vienne River, where more people from Tours were waiting with a ship. Once everyone and their holy cargo was onboard, the ship sailed from the Vienne to the Loire River, where they sailed in a northeastern direction until they reached Tours, supposedly chanting verses from Psalms the whole way.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (The Funeral of St. Stephen by Filippo Lippi  (1406–1469), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Martin-of-Tours 
  • http://www.users.csbsju.edu/~eknuth/npnf2-11/sulpitiu/lifeofst.html 
  • https://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/martin.htm 
  • http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Martin_of_Tours 
  • http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/09732b.htm