Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594)
“Anyone who does exactly what he wishes is plainly in subjection to none.”
- The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours (Book VI, section 18), translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
Gregory of Tours
Hernán Cortés’ Awkward Hug
On November 8, 1519, Hernán Cortés entered the Aztec capital, Tenochtitlan, a populous and bustling city, dominated by broad causeways and canoe-filled canals. The Aztec ruler, Montezuma II, managed his domain from the city, and various chieftains of the Aztec Empire gravitated there to attend the emperor’s court. As such, Tenochtitlan was a place of fashion, pageantry and courtly etiquette. Observing this political environment, Cortés wrote that the people of Tenochtitlan were “marked by as great an attention to the proprieties of life as in Spain, and good order is equally well observed” (Cortés’ Second Letter to Charles V).
Upon Cortés’ entry into the city, Montezuma II and his large entourage came out to greet the Spaniards. The Aztec emperor was carried to the spot on an ornate litter. When the litter came to a halt, a mobile canopy (decorated with feathers and precious metals) was prepared to shade Montezuma as he trekked on foot. In addition to the elegant canopy, Montezuma’s every sandaled step was preempted by a cloak being ceremoniously laid before his path, so that the Aztec emperor’s footwear would not be dirtied by the earth.
As Cortés watched this pageantry, he must have known there would be—as with most monarchs—unspoken rules about how to act (or not act) when meeting with Montezuma. Unsurprisingly, these rules were still quite vague to Cortés and his fellow Spaniards when they had their first in-person meeting with Montezuma on November 8, 1519. Consequently, Hernán Cortés had a bit of a bumbling start in his navigation of Aztec pleasantries. Fortunately for him, Montezuma was apparently in a patient and forgiving mood, willing to overlook, or subtly correct, Cortés’ breaches of etiquette.
Hernán Cortés began with a safe bet—a deep and respectful bow. Montezuma approved this opener, and returned the bow in one way or another. Through interpreters, the two then exchanged greetings and wished each other good health. Next, Cortés reportedly made a slight misstep (or a bit of political gamesmanship) by taking the initiative to extend his hand to Montezuma. The Aztec emperor corrected the ceremony by waving off Cortés’ hand and then, more in keeping with propriety, held out his own hand for the Spaniard. Cortés soon presented a gift to Montezuma. It was a necklace of multi-colored elaborate beads, strung on a perfumed gold chain. The Aztec emperor graciously accepted the gift, and even let Cortés do the honor of placing the jewelry around the emperor’s royal neck.
Hernán Cortés succeeded in placing the necklace on Montezuma’s shoulders without causing any offense. Yet, right after bestowing this gift on the emperor, Cortés apparently tried to pull Montezuma into some kind of embrace. This move was too shocking a divergence from protocol for Montezuma’s relatives and guards to let occur, so they immediately sprang into action to save their liege from a perceived disgrace or embarrassment by blocking the Spaniard’s path and grasping hold of Cortés’ arms. With the hug thwarted, the ceremony returned to surer footing. The two leaders exchanged complimentary speeches, and, finally, Montezuma had the Spaniards shown to their lodgings.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Scene of Hernan Cortes and the Emperor of Mexico, painted by Carlos Esquivel y Rivas (1830–1867), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).
Sources:
- The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, translated by J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
- https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/mod/1520cortes.asp
- http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/cortes_hernan.shtml
- https://www.history.com/topics/exploration/hernan-cortes
- https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hernan-Cortes
- https://www.biography.com/explorer/hernan-cortes
Thucydides
Thucydides (c. 460-400 BCE)
“Those who really deserve praise are the people who, while human enough to enjoy power, nevertheless pay more attention to justice than they are compelled to do by their situation.”
- History of the Peloponnesian War (Book I, section 76) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner (Penguin Classics, 1972).
The Peculiar 12th-Century Tale Of A Subterranean People Living Under The Mountains Of Northern Russia
The Russian Primary Chronicle, alternatively known as the Tale of Bygone Years, was revised around the year 1118 under the direction of Prince Mstislav, who eventually became Grand Prince Mstislav I Vladimirovich of Kiev (r. 1125-1132). In the revision was a peculiar tale, sourced by the text to a certain 12th-century man by the name of Giuriata Rogovich of Novgorod. This Giuriata, it was said, sent a servant or slave to a mountainous region (left unspecified) on the northern coast of Russia. While traveling through this area, Giuriata’s unnamed agent began taking notes on tales told to him by the local populations. He had the good fortune to run into a trader from the folklore-rich Yūrã people (also called Iughra and Yughra), who had long hunted and fished in the arctic and subarctic regions of Russia. From the Yūrā merchant, Giuriata’s servant or slave heard a bizarre tale about a community of subterranean beings who lived in the seaside mountains of the north.
As the story goes, the Yūrā hunters and fishermen suddenly began hearing odd noises from the coastal mountains of northern Russia around the beginning of the 12th century. The noises apparently were eerily similar to the sounds of digging and talking, yet the Yūrā could not understand the language coming from the underground. While exploring the odd mountain, the hunters and fishermen were said to have found a small, inaccessible tunnel into the slope. Although the passage was too little to allow humans to squeeze through, it was wide enough for tools to be prodded inside. According to folklore, the mysterious creatures of the mountain one day appeared at the tunnel, and, using hand signals, began to communicate with the Yūrā. Before long, the hunters and fishermen began trading with the mountain beings. Ironically, although the mountain creatures lived underground, they apparently were in much need of metal tools, and were said to have eagerly exchanged furs for any metallic objects brought by the Yūrā. Supposedly quoting the Yūrā trader directly, the Russian Primary Chronicle had this to say about the odd mountain beings:
“There are certain mountains which slope down to an arm of the sea, and their height reaches to the heavens. Within these mountains are heard great cries and the sound of voices; those within are cutting their way out. In that mountain a small opening has been pierced through which they converse, but their language is unintelligible. They point, however, at iron objects, and make gestures as if to ask for them. If given a knife or an axe, they supply furs in return” (Russian Primary Chronicle, trans. Cross and Sherbowitz-Wetzor, pg. 184).
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Illustration of a troll by John Bauer (1882–1918), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).
Sources:
- The Russian Primary Chronicle (Laurentian Text), translated by Samuel Hazzard Cross and Olgerd P. Sherbowitz-Wetzor. Cambridge, Medieval Academy of America and Crimson Printing, 1953.
- https://archive.org/details/TheRussianPrimaryChronicle/page/n193
- https://www.britannica.com/topic/Rurik-dynasty
- https://www.britannica.com/topic/The-Russian-Primary-Chronicle
- http://expositions.nlr.ru/LaurentianCodex/eng/manuscript4.html
Friedrich Schleiermacher
Friedrich Schleiermacher (c. 1768-1834)
“To love the world spirit and joyfully observe its work is the goal of our religion, and in love there is no fear.”
- From Friedrich Schleiermacher’s On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers (second speech), translated by Richard Crouter (Cambridge University Press, 2012).
Saint Olaf And The Assassination Of Eilif The Gaut
Saint Olaf (King Olaf II Haraldsson of Norway) was not a typical saint. Before becoming a supporter and spreader of Christianity, he was also a Viking and a conqueror who, around 1015, proclaimed himself king of an independent Norway. In the fifteen years prior to Saint Olaf’s bid for power, Norway had been divvied up between jarls who paid homage either to Sweden or Denmark. Saint Olaf, the battle-hardened and experienced Viking, beat these jarls into submission or exile, and toured his newly won kingdom, from region to region, forcing out foreign tax collectors and making sure all sections of Norway knew that they had a new king. Many regions submitted willingly to Olaf’s dominion, some needed coercion, while others wanted help ridding themselves of Swedish or Danish agents before they could openly join Saint Olaf’s cause. Of that latter category was a community in the southeast borderlands of Norway. This group, according to the Icelandic historian Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), lived in a location called Ranríki, which was at the time dominated by a Swedish nobleman by the name of Eilíf the Gaut. Saint Olaf, in order to gain the support of Ranríki, would embark on a formidable campaign of espionage, infiltration, and finally assassination.
When Saint Olaf arrived in the vicinity of Ranríki, he apparently found the inhabitants of the region split between those who wanted to remain under Swedish influence and those who wished to join Olaf. There was reportedly enough sympathy for Sweden in the region, or at least fear of the Swedish nobleman Eilíf the Gaut, that the local faction in favor of Norwegian independence was hesitant to voice open support for Saint Olaf. A region with such a split in allegiance could have been a problem for Saint Olaf if he had wandered blindly into that political quagmire. Fortunately for him, he had an effective system of spies and informants. Using those subtle assets, Saint Olaf was able to discover and contact Brynjólf “the Camel,” a leadership figure among the locals who were in favor of separating from Swedish influence. Eilíf the Gaut, in contrast, apparently did not know that Brynjólf supported Norwegian independence, much less that the man had made contact with Saint Olaf.
The secret of Brynjólf the Camel’s pro-independence sympathies was pivotal to Saint Olaf’s mission in Ranríki. Saint Olaf reportedly sent with Brynjólf twelve special warriors, who were led by a certain Thórir the Long. These warriors were said to have disguised themselves as farmers and, when Eilíf the Gaut began rallying his supporters in response to Saint Olaf’s arrival in the region, Brynjólf and the disguised agents infiltrated the pro-Swedish militia. As Brynjólf the Camel and Thórir the Long were both capable men, Eilíf the Gaut brought them into his inner circle and allowed them close access to his person. At this point, Saint Olaf’s agents could have assassinated poor, unsuspecting Eilíf at any opportune time. Yet, Saint Olaf apparently wanted the final, decisive blow to occur in a public and showy event.
As the story goes, Brynjólf the Camel and Thórir the Long were able to convince Eilíf to meet with Saint Olaf near a cliff for peace talks. Saint Olaf reportedly took up position atop the defensible cliff, while Eilíf the Gaut arrived with his militia of farmers, as well as a smaller loyal band of warriors from Sweden, and set up on the beach below the steep slope. Although the cliffside separated the two forces, both camps were within speaking (or shouting) distance, allowing for negotiations to occur. Saint Olaf, or his marshal, opened up the talks by delivering a speech, saying the typical things that would be expected if they were truly there to seek peace. When the speech was over, Eilíf the Gaut readied himself to deliver his own speech.
Unfortunately, Eilíf reportedly did not get a chance to utter a single line. According to Snorri Sturluson, “Eilíf arose and started to speak. In the same instant Thórir the Long stood up, drew his sword, and struck Eilíf on the neck so that his head flew off” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 61). When Eilíf the Gaut was assassinated, Brynjólf the Camel and his pro-independence comrades showed their allegiance, attacking the Swedish warriors who had accompanied Eilíf to the meeting. Before long, the startled band off Swedes fled, leaving behind a shocked militia of Sweden-sympathetic farmers to the mercy of Saint Olaf and Brynjólf the Camel. As the story goes, Saint Olaf calmed the confused masses and convinced them to submit to him without any further bloodshed.
Brynjólf’s role in the successful operation in Ranríki did not go unnoticed by Saint Olaf. The saint-king reportedly gave the man a gold-inlaid sword as a gift, as well as a large manorial estate called Vettaland. The two reportedly remained life-long friends.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Saga of Olaf illustration, by Christian Krohg (1852–1925). [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).
Sources:
- Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
- https://www.britannica.com/biography/Olaf-II-Haraldsson
The Dramatic Love Story Of Pappolen And A Bishop’s Niece
Bishop Felix of Nantes led his bishopric from the year 547 to 582, and did an admirable enough job to be recognized as a saint by his countrymen and the church. Praise for Bishop Felix, however, was not unanimous. A contemporary saint, Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), decried Felix of Nantes as a long-winded, greedy and arrogant man. Such negative labels were no doubt influenced by a decades-long personal feud between St. Felix and St. Gregory, and they were known to send each other insulting letters from time to time. Unfortunately for St. Felix, Gregory of Tours wrote The History of the Franks, and between describing the actions of the lords and ladies of the realm, St. Gregory made sure to add some embarrassing stories and descriptions of his ecclesiastical rival. One such tale recounted the dramatic courtship of St. Felix’s niece by a persistent man named Pappolen.
As told by Gregory, Pappolen and St. Felix’s niece (left unfortunately unnamed) were madly in love and engaged to be married. Cruel uncle Felix, however, did not approve of the match and quickly forbade the marriage from going forward. The distraught niece was told never to see Pappolen again, and, as a more definitive move, she was summarily quarantined to a small chapel. In response to this, Pappolen, a man of unknown rank, gathered a militia of his friends and family, then marched to the chapel to rescue his beloved. The rescue mission succeeded, and the reunited couple fled to the church of Saint Albinus in Angers, where they sought sanctuary together.
Unfortunately for Pappolen and the niece, Bishop Felix was determined to separate the couple. The saint plied his influence in church and government to have his niece retrieved from the church of Saint Albinus. With his rebellious kinswoman back in custody, Bishop Felix immediately sent her back into confinement. Learning from the past, the saint decided a private chapel was not secure enough for his lovestruck niece. This time, he had her shipped off to the south and arranged for the niece to be placed in a convent at Bazas. With such distance and security separating the pair, Pappolen and the niece could only continue their relationship by smuggling letters to each other with the help of sympathetic couriers.
Fortune changed for the long-parted couple, however, when Bishop Felix of Nantes was stricken with disease and died in 582. When news of the bishop’s death became known to Pappolen and his detained beloved, their clandestine correspondence soon turned to thoughts of another prison break. Unfortunately, Gregory of Tours did not mention any detail of the escape, so whether Pappolen used stealth or force remains unknown. Yet, the mission, whichever way it was carried out, proved to be a great success. According to Gregory of Tours, “He [Pappolen] organized her escape from the nunnery, and married her. He had the King’s formal approval, so that she was able to disregard the threats of her relations” (The History of The Franks, VI.16). After their long-overdue and royally-backed marriage, Pappolen and the niece, as far as we know, lived happily ever after.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Tristan and Isolde painted by Edmund Leighton (1852–1922), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).
Sources:
- The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
- http://csla.history.ox.ac.uk/record.php?recid=E02187
- https://www.bartleby.com/210/7/075.html
Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus And His Revenge Against Rome
Gnaeus (or Gaius) Marcius, according to tradition, was a Roman aristocrat and military leader who lived in the earliest days of the Roman Republic. He was considered a member of the Marcii patrician family in Rome, and ancient historians such as Livy and Plutarch painted Gnaeus Marcius as a staunch, hot-headed member of the patrician faction, as well as a hardliner in favor of suppressing the commoners by any means. It is possible, however, that Gnaeus Marcius’ family originated outside of Rome—it has also been proposed, based on his nickname “Coriolanus,” that Gnaeus Marcius’ ancestors may have actually come from the city of Corioli. Yet, ancient tradition explained his nickname in a different way. Whatever the case, Gnaeus Marcius, himself, was said to have been entrenched in the ruling class of the early Roman Republic.
An ongoing power struggle between the power-hungry oligarchic aristocrats and the liberty-loving masses of the fledgling republic was not the only dangerous situation faced by Rome in the first decade of the 5th century BCE. They were also threatened by the encroaching forces of the Volscians and Aequians. Naturally, the Romans mustered their own military to meet this new threat on the battlefield, and Gnaeus Marcius was one of the officers among the forces of Rome. He made a name for himself in the first clashes between Rome and the Volscians, and particularly showed his prowess during the Roman assault on Corioli, dated to 493 BCE. At the time, Gnaeus Marcius was not in a position of high command in the Roman army, but this did not stop him from leading his own personal band of troops right through the entrance of Corioli to secure a Roman victory. According to tradition, it was this battle that earned Gnaeus Marcius the name “Coriolanus.”
Eventually, the Romans and Volscians settled into a short truce. This temporary halt of hostilities, according to Livy, might have been caused by famine in Rome and an epidemic in Volscian lands, debilitating both sides of the conflict. Boosted by his wartime fame, Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus began rising higher in the political ranks, and his ruthlessness in war was allegedly matched by his bloodthirstiness in his political maneuvering as a patrician against the masses. He was said to have treated the common people of Rome as if they were an opposing city under siege, starving them from precious food unless they relinquished more and more power to the oligarchs. Such tactics made Coriolanus extremely unpopular among the Roman masses, so unpopular that the other patricians in Rome were willing to throw their comrade under the proverbial bus when the leaders of the commoners began some political maneuvers of their own. Ultimately, a trial was launched against Coriolanus in which (in person or in absentia, depending on the source) he was sentenced to an indefinite banishment from the city of Rome.
Angry at both the masses (for prosecuting him) and the patricians (for abandoning him), the exiled Coriolanus marched with purpose to join the very people he had made a name fighting against—the Volscians—and pledged himself to seeking revenge against Rome. Despite his past violent actions against the Volscians, Coriolanus somehow worked his way into the good graces of a certain Attius Tullius, who is said to have been one of the most prominent Volscian leaders of the time.
Attius Tullius was not only able to have Coriolanus accepted into the Volscian community, but he also managed to encourage the Volscian warriors to trust the Roman refugee in military matters. According to tradition and legend, by the time war between the Volscians and Rome resumed around 490 BCE, Coriolanus had gained such respect and trust among the Volscian communities that he was chosen to lead their military forces against the Romans. He masterfully led the Volscians in two annual campaigns, in which he carved away large swaths of land from Roman control. Livy gave a concise list of Coriolanus’ conquests:
“[Gnaeus] Marcius [Coriolanus] first marched for Circeii, expelled the Roman settlers, liberated the town, and handed it over to Volscian control; he captured Satricum, Longula, Polusca, and Corioli, all places recently acquired by Rome; then after taking over Lavinium, he marched across country into the Latin Way and took Corbio, Vitellia, Trebium, Labici, and Pedum. Finally he marched on Rome and took up a position by the Cluilian Trenches five miles outside the walls” (History of Rome, 2.39).
Coriolanus’ siege of Rome in 488 BCE is an event shrouded by legend and folklore, therefore the tale becomes more odd and vague at this point. As the story goes, the Volscians decided not to assault Rome, itself, but instead settled in for a siege. Coriolanus parked his army near the city and set about systematically ravaging the surrounding countryside. According to tradition, he spared the estates of certain patricians, either due to some small residual sympathy for the patrician class, or more likely, as a piece of psychological warfare meant to drive a wedge between the suspicious commoners and the oppressive oligarchs of the Republic.
While under siege, Rome reportedly became quite an unstable place. Conspiracy theories abounded in the city when the commoners discovered that the estates of the republic’s oligarchs were left untouched while the property of the poor and powerless was raided. Such suspicious thoughts, according to tradition, led the commoners in the Roman military to mutiny, leaving the Republic with inadequate troops to drive off the Volscians by force. With military support shaky, the Roman Republic resorted to diplomacy. According to Livy, Rome sent two separate professional diplomatic missions to the Volscian camp, and when both of these failed, they also sent an additional mission of priests in hopes of swaying Coriolanus to relent from his siege. This group, too, did not accomplish their task. When the diplomats and priests failed, one last group went out to meet with the commander of the Volscians. This final diplomatic effort was reportedly led, oddly enough, by Coriolanus’ mother, wife and children, who, for whatever reason, had not joined him in his exile. From this last set of unique diplomats, Coriolanus faced an unbearable attack—he was scolded by his mother, faced pouts from his wife, and was sobbed at by his children. According to the traditional tale, this was too much for Coriolanus and he led his army away from Rome.
After his withdrawal from the city, Coriolanus faded into history. Many different tales about his death were told, but none of them were definitive. Some, such as Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Plutarch, claimed that Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus was quickly executed by Attius Tullius and the Volscians after his failure to continue the siege of Rome. Livy, for his part, merely stated that Coriolanus’ fate was unknown, but also went on to claim that Fabius Pictor, Rome’s first historian, had stated that Coriolanus lived to become an old man amongst the Volscians, spending the rest of his days in exile.
Picture Attribution: (Illustration of Coriolanus being confronted by his family, painted by Soma Orlai Petrich (1822–1880), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Sources:
- The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
- http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Plutarch/Lives/Coriolanus*.html#ref8
- http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Dionysius_of_Halicarnassus/8B*.html
- https://www.livius.org/articles/person/coriolanus-gn-marcius/
- https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-3949#acrefore-9780199381135-e-3949
- https://www.britannica.com/topic/Gnaeus-Marcius-Coriolanus
