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(Video) The Tale Of Suspicious Bishop Bricius And The Miraculous Talking Baby

By
thehistorianshut
-

This narrated video essay examines the ancient and medieval tale of Bishop Bricius of Tours (r. 397-444) and the troubled relationship he had with his suspicious community. Enjoy the audio and visual presentation of this curious story, involving scandals, miracles, and an ordeal by fire in a long saga that spanned from ancient France to Rome.

Saint Bricius (or Brice) was a peculiar bishop who oversaw the bishopric of Tours between the years, 397 and 444. His immediate predecessor and mentor in Tours was Saint Martin, who was bishop of the region from 371 to 397. Unfortunately, Bricius was far from an ideal understudy, as he gained a reputation as a moody, skeptical, overly sarcastic and jealous man, especially toward his mentor, while St. Martin lived. Their curious relationship was discussed by Gregory of Tours, a later 6th-century bishop of the region, who wrote in his Ten Books of Histories, also commonly known as The History of the Franks, that “the Saint used very frequently to rebuke him for spending too much of his time on trivial matters” and “Even when he had been ordained as a priest, Bricius continued to cause pain to the Saint by his sarcastic remarks” (The History of the Franks, Book II, Chapter 1). Despite these red flags, 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 barely a lukewarm reception from the people he was meant to be shepherding. He coexisted with his community for decades, but he never really inspired any noticeable trust, respect, or camaraderie, leaving his career a proverbial powder keg. Bricius’ unstable relationship with his congregants eventually shattered completely when he was one day 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 the unruly mob quickly pushed for Bricius to be stoned to death. On this, Gregory of Tours reported, “A woman to whom his servants used to give his clothes to wash, and who for religious reasons had herself given up wearing lay garments, became pregnant and bore a child. At this news the entire population of Tours rose in its anger. They laid the whole guilt on their Bishop and as one man wanted to stone him to death” (The History of the Franks, Book II, Chapter 1). The bishop, however, was given a chance to defend himself against the accusation. For his defense, he ultimately decided to rely upon a signature move of ancient saints—miracles—to prove his innocence.

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” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, Book II, chapter 1). After miraculously stating this short sentence, the baby lost the power of speech and once more took on the characteristics of the average newborn baby.

Talking baby aside, what looks like a miracle to one person can also look like a trick or an illusion to another. In Tours, the town’s dislike for Bricius 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. Consequently, the bishop now needed to clear himself of an additional accused crime, one that was more serious than the first. Upon this realization, he decided to perform a second miracle. Once more, Bricius gathered the congregation to witness something spectacular. According to Gregory of Tours, Bricius, “placed burning coals in his cassock and pressed them against his body and went in procession with the whole mob to the tomb of Saint Martin. When he reached the tomb he dropped the coals on the ground, but his cassock had no marks of burning on it…” (The History of the Franks, Book II, Chapter 1). Bricius triumphantly pointed out that he, too, was unscathed, without a scorch to be seen on his body. The bishop, however, was held in such little esteem that these miracles were dismissed as flukes. After these peculiar events, the result of the trial was bittersweet. On a positive note, he managed to escape death by stoning, but, on the other hand, the people of Tours went on to sentence Bricius to exile.

Following the bizarre trial, the exiled bishop fled to Rome. He somehow ingratiated himself with successive popes, presumably coinciding with the reigns of Popes Celestine I (who ruled between 422 and 432) and Sixtus III (reigning from 432 to 440). Back home, the people of Tours elected for themselves two successive bishops, named Justinian and Armentius. Curiously, Bricius was still technically the bishop, as Justinian and Armentius were considered illegitimate by the Roman popes. Our medieval source for this tale, the aforementioned bishop and historian, Gregory of Tours, also agreed that Bricius was the rightful bishop. After the death of Armentius, the city of Tours finally accepted Bricius back into the community and let him awkwardly resume his role as bishop of the region until his death in the year 444.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Popes during the time of Bricius:
*Pope/Saint Siricius (r. 384 to 399)
*Pope/Saint Anastasius I (r. 399-401)
*Pope/Saint Innocent I (401-417)
*Pope/Saint Saint Boniface I (r. 418-422)
*Pope/Saint Celestine I (r. 422 to 432)
*Pope/Saint Sixtus III (r. 432-440)
*Pope Leo I (reigned 440–461)

Book Sources:

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

Image sources:

All of the artworks used in the video were labeled as Public Domain, Open Access, or Free Use at the time of the video’s creation.

Video Music Selections:

Music: Adventure by Alexander Nakarada (https://www.creatorchords.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons BY Attribution 4.0 License
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Music: One Bard Band by Alexander Nakarada (https://www.creatorchords.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons BY Attribution 4.0 License
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Music: Lurking Sloth by Alexander Nakarada (https://www.creatorchords.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons BY Attribution 4.0 License
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Music: Marked by Alexander Nakarada (https://www.creatorchords.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons BY Attribution 4.0 License
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Aristotle’s Views On Carthaginian Social Programs

By
thehistorianshut
-

Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE), in his influential text, The Politics, wrote about different types of governments and state constitutions, as well as what he deemed to be beneficial or destructive to each model. In his arguments, Aristotle referred to examples from history, citing different kinds of Greek city-state constitutions. He even commented on the ways of foreign governments, such as the great North African realm of Carthage. Aristotle was impressed by several aspects of the Carthaginian government and society. For one, he admired Carthage’s social initiatives for the poor and destitute. The philosopher was impressed by reports about Carthaginian programs in which impoverished people were provided with land, as well as job assistance. On this, Aristotle wrote, “It has been by running their constitution on some such lines that the Carthaginians have secured the goodwill of their people. From time to time they send some of them to live in the outlying districts and turn them into men of substance” (Aristotle, The Politics, Bekker page 1320a). Aristotle would remember this program when he decided to write about what causes stability and instability in societies.

Democracies were one of the many government types that Aristotle discussed in The Politics. In his assessment, key components for a stable democracy entailed a healthy economy, fair taxes, ethical use of law and order, and for the democratic constitution and government to have public support. In regard to a prospering economy and public support, Aristotle viewed Carthaginian-style social programs as a boon for public opinion and popular good will. Therefore, in a chapter of his text that envisioned an ideal, stable democracy, Aristotle made sure to note that his ideal democratic state would have social programs for the poor. Aristotle wrote:

“For the duty of the true democrat is to see that the population is not destitute; for destitution is a cause of a corrupt democracy. Every effort therefore must be made to perpetuate prosperity. And, since that is to the advantage of the rich as well as the poor, all that accrues from the revenues should be collected into a single fund and distributed in block grants to those in need. If possible in lump sums large enough for the acquisition of a small piece of land, but if not, enough to start a business, or work in agriculture” (Aristotle, The Politics, Bekker page 1320a).

Such was Aristotle’s appreciation of the Carthaginian program. At the most cynical level, the plan would placate the poor and cultivate good will for the government. Economically, the scheme could reduce poverty and potentially lead to more economic and industrial prosperity. All in all, Aristotle was in favor of Carthaginian social programs.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Sarcophagus with a Greek Physician, made in Ostia, Rome, c. 4th century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the MET).

Source:

  • The Politics by Aristotle, translated by T. A. Sinclair and revised by T. J. Saunders. London: Penguin Classics, 1962, 1992.

The Judgment of Paris, Attributed to Antonio da Vendri (c. 16th century)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting, attributed to the Italian artist Antonio da Vendri (16th century), draws inspiration from the ancient Greek mythological tale of the Judgment of Paris. Prince Paris of Troy’s judgment would be the catalyst that would lead to the legendary Trojan War. Curiously, despite the pivotal causal nature of the Judgment of Paris incident, the poet Homer (flourished c. 700 BCE) only made the faintest reference to the event, vaguely alluding to the myth in the final pages of The Iliad. Namely, Homer alleged that Paris’ actions during the Judgment tale left a certain group of deities embittered and wrathful, and their anger extended to the Trojans, in general. Homer wrote, “[Troy held] no appeal for Hera, Poseidon, or grey-eyed Athene. These hated sacred Ilium and Priam and his people just as much now as when Paris first committed that act of blind folly at the judgment in his shepherd’s hut, when he humiliated Hera and Athene by preferring Aphrodite—whose reward was his fatal lust for women” (Homer, The Iliad, Book 24, approximately lines 27-30).

So what did Paris do? In the poetic epics of Homer, the reader learns no more, and is only left with the sentiment that he spurned Hera and Athene (or Athena) by siding with Aphrodite, who promised him a lusty reward. Yet, there is much more to the tale, including mischief from the goddess of discord, Eris, and a fateful beauty contest of the Greek goddesses, each willing to bribe the judge to achieve victory. Paris (also known by the names or epithets of Alexandros or Alexander) was the one who was selected to do the judging in the story. For a fuller ancient telling of the myth, one must turn to later mythographers, such as the scholar known as Pseudo-Apollodorus (c. 1st and 2nd century). On the Judgment of Paris (or Alexander), he wrote:

“Eris threw an apple in front of Hera, Athene, and Aphrodite as a prize for the most beautiful, and Zeus instructed Hermes to take them to Alexander of Mount Ida, to be judged by him for their beauty. They promised to give Alexander gifts; Hera promised him universal dominion if she were preferred above all other women, while Athene offered victory in war, and Aphrodite the hand of Helen. He decided in favour of Aphrodite, and sailed to Sparta…” (Apollodorus, Library, Epitome 3.2).

Paris, therefore, was put in the precarious position of deciding which powerful goddess was the fairest of them all, their prize being Eris’ coveted apple and, no doubt, a sense of pride. Hera and Athena tried to bribe the judge with various forms of power, whereas Aphrodite bought the winning vote by promising Paris that she would aid him in seducing Helen, the most beautiful woman on earth. In keeping with the multi-meaning title of the myth, it is safe to say that Paris’ Judgment proved poor and shortsighted. Paris decided in favor of Aphrodite and accepted her assistance in pursuing Helen, disregarding the fact that Helen was already married to the well-connected King Menelaus of Sparta. And the rest, as they say, is history—or, in this case, legend. Paris’ subsequent abduction of Helen would lead to the Trojan War, in which Menelaus’ allied Greek coalition waged war upon Paris’ family and their kingdom, leading to the destruction of Troy.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

  • Apollodorus, The Library of Greek Mythology, translated by Robin Hard. New York, Oxford University Press, 1997.
  • The Iliad by Homer, translated by E. V. Rieu and edited/introduced by Peter Jones. New York: Penguin Classics, 2014.
  • https://id.rijksmuseum.nl/20027293

Virgil

By
thehistorianshut
-

Virgil (c. 70-19 BCE)

“Time’s flying by, time we’ll never know again…”

  • From Virgil’s Georgics (Book 3, approximately line 284), translated by Peter Fallon (The Gallery Press, 2004, and later Oxford World Classics, 2006, 2009).

A Summary Of 15th-Century Witchcraft Beliefs By Pope Innocent VIII

By
thehistorianshut
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Pope Innocent VIII (r. 1484-1492) was Pope of the Roman Catholic Church when Jacob (or James) Sprenger and Heinrich (or Henry) Kramer began formulating an idea about writing a treatise on witchcraft, witches, and how to investigate and prosecute witchcraft cases. Kramer and Sprenger were qualified authors on the subject, as they were university professors who were also Dominican friars and had experience as inquisitors involved in witchcraft trials. Pope Innocent VIII fully supported the proposed literary project of the inquisitors and formally blessed their endeavor in a Papal Bull (basically an authoritative decree) that was disseminated in 1484. In his decree, Pope Innocent gave a preview of the kind of content that would be in Kramer and Sprenger’s book. The pope included in his Papal Bull a detailed summary of 15th-century beliefs about witches, demons, spells, and their theoretical effects. Pope Innocent VIII stated:

“It has indeed lately come to Our ears, not without afflicting Us with bitter sorrow, that in some parts of Northern Germany, as well as in the provinces, townships, territories, districts, and dioceses of Mainz, Cologne, Trèves, Salzburg, and Bremen, many persons of both sexes, unmindful of their own salvation and straying from the Catholic Faith, have abandoned themselves to devils, incubi and succubi, and by their incantations, spells, conjurations, and other accursed charms and crafts, enormities and horrid offences, have slain infants yet in the mother’s womb, as also the offspring of cattle, have blasted the produce of the earth, the grapes of the vine, the fruits of trees, nay, men and women, beasts of burthen, herd-beasts, as well as animals of other kinds, vinyards, orchards, meadows, pastureland, corn, wheat, and all other cereals; these wretches furthermore afflict and torment men and women, beast of burthen, herd-beasts, as well as animals of other kinds, with terrible and piteous pains and sore diseases, both internal and external; they hinder men from performing the sexual act and women from conceiving, whence husbands cannot know their wives nor wives receive their husbands”  (The Bull of Innocent VIII, dated 1484, trans. by Montague Summers).

Citing these medieval supernatural concerns, Pope Innocent VIII reaffirmed Kramer and Sprenger as Papal Inquisitors and bid them continue investigating, documenting, and prosecuting such cases as they went about their overarching goal of publishing their treatise on witches, witchcraft, and witch trials. In the aforementioned Papal Bull, Pope Innocent VIII wrote, “Our dear sons Henry Kramer and James Sprenger, Professors of Theology, of the Order of Friars Preachers, have been by Letters Apostolic delegated as Inquisitors of these heretical pravities, and still are Inquisitors…We decree and enjoin that the aforesaid Inquisitors be empowered to proceed to the just correction, imprisonment, and punishment of any persons…” (The Bull of Innocent VIII, dated 1484, trans. by Montague Summers). With their thorough theological education, their previous experience with witchcraft trials, and their continuing authority as re-appointed inquisitors, Kramer and Sprenger channeled their knowledge and experience into their influential text, the Malleus Maleficarum, which was published around 1487.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Tombstone monument of Pope Innocent VIII (r. 1484-1492), by Antonio Pollaiuolo, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the National Museum in Warsaw).

Sources:

  • The Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, translated by Montague Summers. New York: Dover Publications, 1971.
  • The Bull of Innocent VIII, in The Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, translated by Montague Summers. New York: Dover Publications, 1971.
  • https://www.britannica.com/topic/Malleus-maleficarum

Fotis Sees Her Lover Lucius Transformed Into An Ass. Motif From Apuleius’ The Golden Ass, by Nicolai Abildgaard (c. 1743 – 1809)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting, by the Danish artist Nicolai Abildgaard (c. 1743 – 1809), was inspired by the peculiar ancient Roman tale of Fotis and Lucius, which was penned by the Roman writer, Apuleius (c. 125-170/180). As the title of the artwork gives away, Apuleius’ book was titled The Golden Ass, but it was also given a less crude title of Metamorphoses. The book, which reads like a comedic adventure novel, follows the odd life of a man named Lucius, who was cursed by an insatiable curiosity of the occult. His nosiness fatefully caused him to be magically transformed into a donkey—hence the titles of the book. It is this scene of Lucius’ transformation that is re-created in Nicolai Abildgaard’s painting.

Lucius, as the painting portrays, had come in contact with a woman named Fotis (or, Photis, as she is usually called) prior to the peculiar transformation seen above. Lucius gravitated to Photis because she was the maid of a suspected witch named Pamphile. Desperate to see the witch perform a magic spell, Lucius employed charm, charisma and seduction to begin an intimate relationship with Photis, hoping to eventually pressure her to let him witness Pamphile’s powers. Lucius had his wish, and he allegedly saw this scene that Apuleius described:

“Pamphile completely stripped herself; then she opened a chest and took out a small number of boxes. From one of these she removed the lid and scooped out some ointment, which she rubbed between her hands for a long time before smearing herself with it all over from head to foot. Then there was a long muttered address to the lamp during which she shook her arms with a fluttering motion. As they gently flapped up and down there appeared on them a soft fluff, then a growth of strong feathers; her nose hardened into a hooked beak, her feet contracted into talons—and Pamphile was an owl” (Apuleius, The Golden Ass, 3.21).

Lucius, understandably, was amazed and excited about the feat of shapeshifting that he had witnessed. Yet, Lucius’ overabundance of curiosity and interest in magic not only made him want to see magic—he also wanted to try it out for himself. Lucius, after some frantic pleas and encouragement, was able to convince Photis to fetch some of the ointment that had been used in the transformation spell. She successfully found some of it in Pamphile’s nearby stash, and brought it to her reckless lover. Even though Lucius did not have any instructions on how to use the ointment and did not know exactly what needed to be done or muttered during the spell, he decided, anyway, to make his own attempt of transforming into an owl by copying what he had seen. Lucius’ imitation of the ritual, nevertheless, did not go well. Apuleius (narrating from the viewpoint of Lucius) described the comical scene of the transformation that ensued:

“[T]hen very apprehensively she [Photis] slipped into the room and took the box out of the chest. I seized it and kissed it, praying that it would grant me good luck on the wing; then I tore off my clothes, and plunging my hands into it scooped out a generous portion of the ointment and rubbed it all over myself; then I flapped my arms up and down in imitation of a bird. But no down or feathers appeared; instead my hair became coarse and shaggy, my soft skin hardened into hide, my fingers and toes lost their separate identity and coalesced into hooves, and from the end of my spine there protruded a long tail. My face became enormous and my mouth widened; my nostrils dilated and my lips hung down; and my ears became monstrously long and hairy. The only redeeming feature of this catastrophic transformation was that my natural endowment had grown too—but how could I embrace Photis like this? In this hapless state I looked myself over and saw that I was now no bird, but an ass” (Apuleius, The Golden Ass, 3.24-25).

Such is the bizarre scene from the ancient tale that inspired Nicolai Abildgaard’s painting. Lucius’ accomplice, Photis, as a maid of a witch, quickly ran off to try to pull together ingredients that would hopefully cure Lucius from his unfortunate transformation. Yet, in a plot-driving turn of events, the transformed man (now completely a donkey) was stolen from the stables before he could be re-transformed back into a man. As a result, Lucius was stuck as a donkey for much of the remainder of Apuleius’ peculiar book. In the comedic chapters that followed, the donkey with a human mind was handed over from owner to owner, and was dragged from town to town in the Roman Empire due to each transaction. Poor Lucius, all the while, continued to desperately look for a cure to turn himself back into his human form as he was transported around the Mediterranean during his donkey odyssey.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

 

Sources:

Aristotle

By
thehistorianshut
-

Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE)

“Freedom to do exactly what one likes cannot do anything to keep in check that element of badness which exists in each and all of us.”

  • From Aristotle’s Politics (Bekker page 1318bb), translated by T. A. Sinclair and revised by T. J. Saunders (Penguin Classics, 1962, 1981, 1992).

(Video) The Absolute Cheesiest Tale About Charlemagne

By
thehistorianshut
-

In this narrated video essay, we present the absolute cheesiest tale about Charlemagne (r. 768-814) that was recorded by the medieval monk and historian, Notker the Stammerer (c. 840-912). With direct quotations from the medieval text and historical artworks to help illustrate the scene, prepare to be regaled about Charlemagne’s peculiar cheesy experience with one of the bishops of his realm.

[Video Timestamps]
00:00 Notker the Stammerer
01:10 Charlemagne, the Bishop, and Cheese
03:15 Notker Quote
04:34 Cheesy Logistics
05:48 Bishop Epilogue
06:05 Outro

All of the artworks and stock clips used in the video were labeled as Public Domain or free use at the time of the video’s creation.

Video Music
Free To Use Gregorian Chant Music Royalty Free “Camelot Monastery”
By Darren Curtis (https://www.youtube.com/@DarrenCurtisMusic, https://www.darrencurtismusic.com)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4Vgb8UC07I

Medieval: The Old Tower Inn (CC0) Full Track + Loop
By Random Mind (https://www.youtube.com/@randommynd)
https://youtu.be/zFO3Jyr-mZ4?si=RK3fcM5BKiLg0dGc
License: Creative Commons CC0 https://creativecommons.org/public-domain/cc0/

[Free Medieval Tavern Music] “Ale and Anecdotes” Royalty Free Fantasy RPG Theme
By Darren Curtis (https://www.youtube.com/@DarrenCurtisMusic, https://www.darrencurtismusic.com)
https://youtu.be/y6v8TbhMWDE?si=oDkPZ-iAQ5I_Gxh-

[Video Transcript]
In the 880s, a monk named Notker the Stammerer decided to write about the life of Charlemagne, the famous king of the Franks who took power in 768 and died in 814. Notker’s only major biographical predecessor on the subject was Einhard, who wrote his Life of Charlemagne in the 820s. Notker the Stammerer, as a monk, felt that Einhard neglected the subjects of religion and the church in his coverage of Charlemagne’s life. Therefore, Notker, in his own work, The Deeds of Charlemagne, pointedly filled nearly the entire first book of his project with numerous bizarre stories involving prominent clergymen in Charlemagne’s empire. These tales, told to Notker by an enigmatic cleric named Werinbert, were unfortunately often left devoid of names, locations and dates, so it is difficult to assign any concrete historical validity to the tales. Even so, the strange stories are immensely entertaining and can give a window into the mind of a 9th-century audience.

One of Notker’s stories told of an anonymous bishop who managed property along an inland route that Charlemagne used frequently for his travels. While the king of the Franks was there, the unnamed bishop offered the king his hospitality, supplying food and drink from his own stores. The local church estates had plenty of supplies to feed the monarch, but a problem occurred on one particular trip. For one, in that specific incident in question, the king’s journey through the land had been provoked by unexpected circumstances, so the bishop had little time to prepare. Secondly, adding further complexity to the mix, the king arrived in the bishop’s territory on the day of a Friday Fast and, as a devout Christian, Charlemagne refused any dish made with meat from land animals or birds. Fish was an acceptable meal for the fast, but as the king was in an inland bishopric, Charlemagne would have been long gone before any fresh seafood could be carted into town. Unfortunately for Charlemagne, all that the bishop could provide on that Friday was cheese.

Surrounded by his attendants and the bishop, Charlemagne prepared for his meal. As the bishop blushed with embarrassment, a wheel of cheese was brought before the king. It was the best cheese that the region had to offer, but it must have looked unappetizing, especially the rough, dry edges of the wheel. According to the tale, Charlemagne withheld any comment and silently cut away the edges, intending to eat only the smooth and creamy center. When the bishop realized what the king was doing, he hesitantly approached and lightly commented that Charlemagne had cut away the best part. As the tale goes, Charlemagne trusted the bishop and looked for the choicest section of the unseemly hardened ends of the cheese. He cautiously ate a selected piece, slowly but methodically devouring the specimen. When the king finally swallowed the cheese, he enthusiastically turned to the bishop and agreed that the ends were delicious. On this curious scene of Charlemagne and his feast of cheese, Notker the Stammerer wrote:

“On that same journey he came unexpectantly to a bishop who lived in a place through which he had to pass. Now on that day, being the sixth day of the week, he was not willing to eat the flesh of beast or bird; and the bishop, being by reason of the nature of the place unable to procure fish quickly, ordered some excellent cheese, rich and creamy, to be placed before him. And the most moderate Charles, with the readiness which he showed everywhere and on all occasions, spared the blushes of the bishop and required nothing else; but taking up his knife cut off the skin, which he thought unsavoury, and fell to on the white of the cheese. Thereupon the bishop, who was standing near like a servant, drew closer and said: ‘Why do you do that, lord emperor? You are throwing away the very best part.’ Then Charles, who deceived no one, and did not believe that anyone would deceive him, on the persuasion of the bishop put a piece of the skin in his mouth, and slowly ate it and swallowed it like butter. Then approving of the advice of the bishop, he said: ‘Very true, my good host…’” (Notker the Stammerer, The Deeds of Charlemagne, 1.15)

Charlemagne was so delighted with the taste of the cheese that he demanded two full carts of the stuff to be shipped to his capital at Aachen on an annual basis. The king even specified how the cheese should be shipped: The cheese wheels were to be cut in half, with the best halves going to the king and the lesser sections staying behind with the bishop. The king’s cheese selections would then be skewered together and placed in a barrel, which, in turn, would be placed in the two carts that would carry the cheese to Aachen.

For three years the bishop meticulously carried out Charlemagne’s orders, slicing, selecting, skewering, barreling and shipping the two cart loads of the excellent cheese to Aachen each year. The burden of finding enough pristine cheese to meet the king’s demands was no easy task, yet the bishop always met his quota and, on the third year, he even drove the carts to Aachen himself. After the third annual shipment was received at Aachen, Charlemagne released the dutiful bishop from the job of being the king’s supplier of cheese. Perhaps, Charlemagne recognized the effort it took for the bishop to collect the cheeses, or the king could have simply grown tired of cheese after three years. Whatever the case, Charlemagne rewarded the clergyman for his three years of service by presenting the bishop with new tracts of fertile lands, which were pristine for the cultivation of grain and wine vineyards. So ended the Absolute Cheesiest Tale About Charlemagne.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Written Sources:

  • Two Lives of Charlemagne, by Einhard and Notker the Stammer, translated by David Ganz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.
  • Carolingian Chronicles: Royal Frankish Annals and Nithard’s Histories, translated by Bernhard Scholz and Barbara Rogers. Ann Arbor Paperbacks / University of Michigan Press, 1972.

Art sources:

Video stock footage sources

Ovid

By
thehistorianshut
-

Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE)

“A celibate life is something I’d only wish
On my very worst enemies.”

  • From The Amores (2.10.16-17) by Ovid, translated by Peter Green in The Erotic Poems (Penguin Classics, 1982).

Pythagoras’ Revolutionary Olympic Boxing Revenge

By
thehistorianshut
-

In the 6th century BCE, a curious fighter named Pythagoras emerged from the island of Samos and challenged the preconceived notions and norms of the sport of boxing. Not to be confused with the famous philosopher, mathematician and theologian of the same name and land, the boxer in question here was likely born a few decades before his famed fellow countryman. When the time came for the Olympic Games of the 48th ancient Olympiad (588 BCE), the boxer, Pythagoras, was evidently at a young age that allowed him to arguably qualify for both the main Olympic competition, as well as a youth tournament that was held in conjunction with the Games. His intention was to compete in the boys’ event, but his Olympic journey would take complicated and unexpected turns.

Our young protagonist, the boxer, was an innovative prodigy in his sport, and he was reported to have exhibited a unique, flamboyant personality that has become stereotypical for young geniuses. He grew out his hair to be unusually long, he wore robes dyed with expensive pigments, and he also kept his physique much slimmer than the average boxer of that time. His hair and dress were simply his style, but the slim build was part of a carefully-crafted new training regimen that the young athlete had been developing. In short, Pythagoras the Boxer was pioneering a training program that focused on nutrition, dieting, and a more scientific approach to athletic efficiency. Nevertheless, by the time of the Olympics, Pythagoras had not yet been able to test out his training and capabilities against any fighters of real renown. Therefore, when it came time for the Olympics, he was an unknown entity and was not a favorite to win by any stretch, even in the youth tournament he wanted to join. The scholar, Diogenes Laertius (3rd century CE), cited an epigram about the boxer, stating:

“Gone to box with other lads
Is the lad Pythagoras,
Gone to the games Olympian
Crates’ son the Samian.”
(Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 8.1.49.  The epigram is also in the Anthologia Planudea, iii.16).

Unfortunately for Pythagoras, he was not given a respectful or welcoming reception at the Olympics. His long hair, flamboyant fashion, and unusual slim physique became the subject of ridicule and mockery, both by fellow competitors and certain Olympic authorities. At the heart of the lampooning was an insinuation that the boxer had a womanly or girlish appearance. The critics and quibblers were so persistent and ferocious in their bullying that they successfully managed to have Pythagoras barred from the boys’ event at the Olympics. Pythagoras, however, was determined to compete, and since he was in that transitionary age between youth and young adulthood, he took that opportunity to sidestep the youth event and instead campaigned to get a spot in the adult boxing competition of the Olympic Games. Pythagoras convinced the Olympic authorities and was given the opportunity to compete. With that chance, the boxer entered the competition and made Olympic history. The historian, Eusebius (c. 260-339 CE), described the outcome of the Olympic boxing tournament of the 48th Olympiad: “Pythagoras of Samos was excluded from the boys’ boxing contest and was mocked for being effeminate, but he went on to the men’s contest and defeated all his opponents” (Eusebius, Chronicle, Book II, The Greek Olympiads, entry for 48th Olympiad/588 BCE). Disproving all the criticism and mockery, the slim and long-haired Pythagoras showcased his prowess and the effectiveness of his dietary program by becoming the Olympic boxing champion.

With an Olympic championship under his belt, proving that he was a magnificent boxer with a winning training routine, Pythagoras went on to have a successful post-Olympics career. He evidently became a professional trainer, instructor, or coach, teaching the sport of boxing and sharing his knowledge on nutrition and dietary plans for athletes. Diogenes Laertius mentioned this, differentiating between Pythagoras the trainer and Pythagoras the philosopher and mathematician, who both advocated for degrees of vegetarianism. Diogenes wrote, “Some say it was a certain trainer named Pythagoras who instituted this diet, and not our Pythagoras…” (Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 8.1.13). The boxer also had interests outside of athletics, and reportedly went on to write a historical text. This was mentioned by Diogenes in a paragraph that listed the many different people named Pythagoras who all lived in the 6th century BCE. After mentioning the great philosopher, as well as tyrants, sculptors, orators and doctors, Diogenes went on to describe Pythagoras the Boxer. He wrote, “and yet another who, so we are told by Dionysius, wrote a history of the Dorian race. Eratosthenes says, according to what we learn from Favorinus in the eighth book of his Miscellaneous History, that the last-named was the first to box scientifically, in the 48th Olympiad, keeping his hair long and wearing a purple robe; and that when he was excluded with ridicule from the boys’ contest, he went at once to the men’s and won that” (Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 8.1.47). Unfortunately, little else is known about Pythagoras the Boxer. Few records have survived the erosion of time, leaving unanswered questions such as if the Olympic champion fought again, who he might have coached, what other books he may have written, and when he died. Nevertheless, his vision of a science-based and nutrition-oriented approach to athletics remains very much alive to this day.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Terracotta lekythos (perfume flask), attributed to the Sabouroff Painter, ca. 460 BCE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the MET).

Sources:

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