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The Unsuccessful Invasion Of Tryggvi The Claimant In Norway

By
thehistorianshut
-

In the 11th century, a certain Tryggvi claimed to have been the son of King Olaf Tryggvason of Norway (r. 995-1000) and a noblewoman from Ireland named Gytha (or Gyda). Tryggvi’s alleged parents met when Olaf was adventuring abroad before eventually returning home to become the king of Norway. Snorri Sturlusson (c. 1179-1241), a prolific Icelandic scholar, writer and politician, mentioned Tryggvi in his Heimskringla (History of the Kings of Norway)—a collection of sagas about Norwegian monarchs. Within the overarching work of the Heimskrigla, the relationship of the parents of Tryggvi was mentioned in the Saga of Oláf Tryggvason. The Icelandic historian wrote, “In the fall Oláf sailed from the Scilly Islands to England and anchored in some harbor. He proceeded peaceably, for England was Christian, and he too was a Christian. A summons had gone about the land that all men should come to the assembly. And when the assembly met, there came to it a certain queen called Gytha. She was the sister of Oláf Kváran who was a king in Ireland in Dublin” (Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla, Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, chapter 32). The account would go on to claim that Gytha had been married to an earl in England, but that the earl had subsequently died and Gytha had managed to inherit a notable portion of her late husband’s property. As a result, widowed Gytha, with her wealth and connections, was incredibly appealing to an ambitious individual such as the adventuring Norwegian noble, Olaf Tryggvason. According to Snorri Sturlusson, “Oláf married Gytha and resided in England, but at times in Ireland” (Heimskringla, Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, chapter 32). Olaf’s stay was brief, as he returned to Norway in 995, but during that time Tryggvi would have been conceived. Tryggvi and Gytha, either by choice or abandonment, evidently remained behind in Britain while Olaf Tryggvason campaigned in Norway. Such is the origin story for the curious claimant to the Norwegian throne, Tryggvi.

As stories of medieval pretenders and claimants go, Tryggvi’s claim was remarkably uncontested, with few contemporary sources calling him a fraud or fake. His royal origin story also faced little, if any, backlash from influential poets in the Nordic courts. For example, Snorri Sturluson used as a source a poem called Tryggvaflokkr, attributed to Sigvat Thordarson (c. 995-1045), also known as Sigvat the Skald. In the poem, the claimant was given the honorable title of King Tryggvi, and it contained far more praise than criticism. Similarly, many Norwegian chieftains evidently showed very little hostility to Tryggvi’s claims. To the contrary, notable Norwegian dissidents were reportedly neutral, not openly siding with Tryggvi while also not aiding his enemies. Such a positive, or at least neutral, response to Tryggvi’s claim that he was Norwegian royalty could be argued to boost the credibility of his assertion. Nevertheless, the propaganda campaigns of claimants and pretenders, especially from poorly documented times, has to be taken with a proverbial grain of salt.

Whatever his true nature, Tryggvi remained away from Norwegian politics for decades. He played no known role in his father, King Olaf Tryggvason’s, successful campaign to claim the throne of Norway in 995. Similarly, he was not in King Olaf Tryggvason’s court when the king was killed by a coalition of enemies at the Battle of Svold (or Svolder) in the year 1000. Tryggvi made no bids for power in the years while the throne was vacant after his alleged father’s death, and he continued to stay out of politics when the next king, Saint Olaf (r. 1015-1028), ruled Norway. After the dethroning of Saint Olaf, the Danish dynasty of Canute the Great—ruler of England (r. 1016-1035), Denmark (r. 1019-1035) and Norway (r. 1028-1035)—seized control of the Norwegian lands. Canute delegated the governance of Norway to his son Svein (or Sweyn), who was aided by his mother Aelfgifu (also called Ælgifu and Álfífa). Saint Olaf, however, was not yet dead, and he attempted to retake his kingdom in 1030, but subsequently died in battle. During those events, too, Tryggvi played no role. By this point, Tryggvi had spent around three decades keeping completely out of Norwegian politics. Yet, suddenly around 1033, when anti-Danish sentiment was beginning to mount against Svein’s regime in Norway, the long-inactive Tryggvi dramatically changed his course and began mobilizing an army and a fleet for a campaign to seize control of Norway. On this, the aforementioned scholar, Snorri Sturluson, wrote:

“When Svein had been king for three years the news came to Norway that west across the sea a band was gathering whose leader was a certain Tryggvi. He called himself a son of Oláf Tryggvason and Gytha the English woman. Now when King Svein learned that a foreign army might invade the land he summoned a force from the northern part of the country and most of the landed-men of the Trondheim District joined him. Einar Thambarskelfir remained at home and refused to join King Svein…None of the sons of Árni joined King Svein’s levy” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 248).

Whoever Tryggvi really might have been, he undoubtedly was a man of wealth and charisma, for he was able to raise a formidable force of men and ships and convinced the army to face a foe that had recently triumphed over Saint Olaf in 1030. Yet, Tryggvi did have on his side the atmosphere of dissent and rebellion that was increasing in Norway. This change of sentiment was reflected by the actions of the powerful chieftains, Einar Thambarskelfir and Kálf Arnason, who refused to contribute their manpower to Svein’s army.

Tryggvi’s fleet reportedly faced off against the forces of Svein at a place called Sóknar Sound, near an island called Bókn. Tryggvi allegedly displayed impressive and memorable physical might during the battle, but his forces, ultimately, could not win the day. As told by Snorri Sturluson, “a great and violent battle took place. It is told that Tryggvi hurled javelins with both hands at the same time…In this battle he fell, together with many of his force. Some escaped by flight, others asked for quarter” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 249). So ended the life of Tryggvi. As for Svein, although he had won the battle, it was also the beginning of the end for his reign in Norway. Anti-Dane sentiment continued to skyrocket after the battle, and dissident Norwegian chieftains such as Einar Thambarskelfir and Kálf Arnason had reached a point of no return by withholding support and tribute from Svein in his time of need. As the relationship between the unrestful Norwegians and the Danish regime continued to deteriorate, it paved the way for the subsequent rise of Saint Olaf’s son, King Magnus the Good of Norway (r. 1035–47).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (art labeled Illustrasjon til “Olav Trygvasøns Saga” i Snorres Kongesagaer, 1899, by Erik Werenskiold (c. 1855-1938), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the National Museum of Norway).

 

Sources:

  • Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.

Sirens, By Hans Thoma (c. (1839-1924)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting, by the German artist Hans Thoma (c. 1839-1924), was inspired by the Sirens of ancient Greek myth. These mythological creatures were characterized in the ancient tales as formidable monsters who were known to use beautiful singing to lure seafarers to their deaths. Homer, the great Greek poet who flourished around 700 BCE, described the danger of the Sirens in a speech that he wrote for the character, Circe. She told Odysseus:

“There is no homecoming for the man who draws near them unawares and hears the Sirens’ voices; no welcome from his wife, no little children brightening at their father’s return. For with their high clear song the Sirens bewitch him, as they sit there in a meadow piled high with the mouldering skeletons of men, whose withered skin still hangs upon their bones” (Homer, The Odyssey, book 12, approximately lines 40-50).

Traditionally, ancient Greek Sirens were said to have been monsters with the curious form of a woman’s head (and sometimes torso) fused onto the body of a bird. Later artists, including Hans Thoma, opted to abandon the avian qualities of the Sirens in their artworks, instead taking the more aesthetically pleasing route of depicting the creatures as nymph-like humanoid figures lounging on the shore. Nevertheless, hints to the Sirens’ deadly nature remain in Thoma’s painting, as a skull can be seen half buried in the sand at the forefront of the artwork.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

Mark Twain

By
thehistorianshut
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Mark Twain (c. 1835-1910)

“Many a small thing has been made large by the right kind of advertising.”

  • From chapter 22 of Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court (Published in 1889). The edition used here is by Bantam/Random House (1981, 2005).

Lucian’s Envisioning Of Wealth As A Mistreated Pale Deity

By
thehistorianshut
-

Lucian of Samosata (c. 120-180+), in his satirical work Timon the Misanthrope, envisioned Wealth as a personified god. Wealth, as the account told, was a blind god who mysteriously would acquire a lame leg when he set out to meet with a human, but he contrastingly could use wings to soar away when he decided to leave—it was an imaginative way for Lucian to insinuate that wealth is often slow to gain but fast to lose. This blind and limping god, according to Lucian’s amusing account, had long since become fed up with the treatment that he received at the hands of humans. On the one hand, Wealth was too often left to languish for long and tortuous periods of time in dark and lonely vaults by his possessors. Yet, on the other hand, more saintly individuals who gained Wealth’s company sometimes insultingly treated poor Wealth as worthless, passing him from one caller to the next without his consent, or throwing him away, entirely. Although the latter type of treatment did hurt Wealth’s feelings, the former fate—locked away in a vault—seemed to be the most frequent hospitality that Wealth experienced when he happened to enter a human’s possession. This trend, however, had an adverse influence on Wealth’s appearance. In Lucian’s satire, the arch-god, Zeus, commented that Wealth was always, “complaining that the rich kept you locked up so closely with bolts and keys and seals that you couldn’t even peep out and see daylight. At any rate that was your complaint to me, that you were stifled in total darkness. That’s why you appeared so pale and careworn, your fingers distorted with constant counting on them, and you threatened to run away if you got the chance” (Lucian, Timon the Misanthrope, section 13). After reminiscing about the horror stories, Wealth eventually fantasized about his ideal possessor. As narrated by Lucian, Wealth preferred a person who had “moderation in this matter, and who neither abstain from spending altogether nor squander all they have” (Timon the Misanthrope, section 16). Well, you heard the god; keep your wealth happy.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (cropped Vanitas Allegory painting, by Willem de Poorter (c. 1608-1649), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the National Museum in Sweden).

Sources:

  • Lucian, Selected Dialogues, translated by C. D. N. Costa. Oxford: Oxford University Press (Oxford World Classics), 2005, 2006, 2009.

Samson and Delilah, by Jan Havicksz Steen (c. 1626-1679)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting, by the Dutch artist Jan Havicksz Steen (c. 1626-1679), was inspired by the Biblical story of Samson and Delilah. The first of the pair, Samson, was a legendary Israelite warrior featured in the biblical Book of Judges. As the story goes, Samson was a scourge to the Philistines, a mysterious seafaring people that invaded and settled a section of the Palestine coast around the 12th century BC, becoming a serious threat to ancient Israel. While the Philistines had formidable weaponry and an admirable military organization, the Israelites had legendary heroes. Wielding superhuman strength, Samson proved to be almost an indomitable foe for the Philistines. Yet, as the biblical story and the painting above divulge, there was an exploitable weakness to Samson’s strength—hair. If Samson’s long locks were cut, then so would his strength also be shorn away. As the story goes, the Israelite warrior unwisely told this secret to a woman named Delilah, who then conveyed the secret to the Philistines and plotted with them to capture Samson. The Book of Judges described the story of what happened next:

“After putting him to sleep on her lap, she called for someone to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him. Then she called, ‘Samson, the Philistines are upon you!’ He awoke from his sleep and thought, ‘I’ll go out as before and shake myself free.’ But he did not know that the Lord had left him. Then the Philistines seized him, gouged out his eyes and took him down to Gaza” (Judges 16:19-21, NIV version).

Jan Havicksz Steen’s painting re-creates (albeit with curious wardrobe choices) this scene of Delilah betraying Samson to the Philistines. As mentioned in the quote, he did not get away from the ambush. Yet, Samson would have the last laugh. As his hair began to grow back, so did his strength. With a few prayers to supplement his recovering power, he was said to have summoned enough strength to demolish the Philistine temple where he was being kept, killing himself and many of his captors.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

Søren Kierkegaard

By
thehistorianshut
-

Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)

“Anyone who in demanding a person’s love believes that this love is demonstrated by his becoming indifferent to what he otherwise cherished is not merely an egotist but is also stupid, and anyone demanding that kind of love simultaneously signs his own death sentence insofar as his life is centered in this desired love.”

  • From Soren Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling (Problema 2), translated by Howard V. and Edna H. Hong (Princeton University Press, 1983).

Aristotle On the Need For A Strong Middle Class

By
thehistorianshut
-

Philosophical arguments of Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE) often worked by pointing out two extremes and advocating for a balanced middle ground between the two. For example, in terms of virtue, Aristotle praised the virtuous quality of sincerity, and contrastingly criticized people who were too humble (as humility may undermine a person’s sincere worth) as well as arrogant boastfulness (as arrogance does not lead to sincere self-analysis). Aristotle took a similar stance on society and politics. He noted that in governance there will always be tension between the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor and that there needed to be a strong presence of people in the middle to form a calming bridge between the two antagonistic sides. In a sense, he advocated for the need of a strong middle class, albeit his notion of a “Middle Class” is different than the modern day concept. After all, Aristotle lived in the 4th century BCE, a time with very different societal, economic and class structures than modern times. Despite these cultural differences, Aristotle’s viewpoint on a middle class is worth reading. Speaking on the poor, wealthy and the middle class, as well as the best government representation ratios of these classes, Aristotle wrote:

“Where the number of the poor is sufficiently large to exceed the given ratio, there democracy will depend on the type of people which has the numerical superiority in each case…Where, on the other hand, the rich and notable people have a greater qualitative superiority than quantitative inferiority, there an oligarchy naturally arises, and once again its type will depend on the degree of superiority in those who form the oligarchical body. But at all times a legislator ought to endeavour to include the middle people in the constitution…Whenever the middle people outweigh a combination of the two extremes, or even one only, then there is a good chance of permanence for the constitution. There is no danger of rich and poor making common cause against them; for neither will want to be slaves to the other, and if they are looking for a constitution more acceptable to both, they will not find any better than this. Their mistrust of each other would make it impossible for them to accept alternation in office. But in all places the mediator is best trusted by the parties, and the one in the middle is a mediator” (Aristotle, The Politics, Bekker number 1296b).

In short, Aristotle wrote that constitutions and government structures needed to balance the wealth and influence of the well-off in a stable way with the numerical superiority of the poorer portions of society. If wealthy individuals were able to monopolize too much power and influence, an oligarchy could arise. Yet, contrastingly, extreme power in the hands of the poorest people could also lead to dangerous outcomes. In Aristotle’s opinion, tyrannical oligarchies and rabble-rousing revolutionaries were not a recipe for a stable state. Therefore, he favored a strong middle class of moderates. These middlemen of society would be able to be allies and mediators of both the rich and the poor, keeping the two juxtaposed extremes from scratching at each other’s throats. If the middle class could be empowered and fulfill this stabilizing role, then Aristotle believed that such a society’s constitution, and the government formed from it, would have a chance at long-term survivability.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Antique Greek costumes by Friedrich Hottenroth (c. 19th century), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Smithsonian).

Sources:

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

Sigurd Syr, Åsta, Olav og Rane, by Christian Krohg (c. 1852–1925)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This rather abstractly painted artwork, by the Norwegian artist Christian Krohg (c. 1852–1925), was inspired by the storied life of the historical figure, Olaf Haraldsson (c. 995-1030), known as Saint Olaf and King Olaf II of Norway (r. 1015-1028). In particular, it depicts the main parental and mentoring figures in the early life of the king. A brief summary of Olaf’s family would be helpful for understanding the intricate relationships of the people in the scene.

Olaf Haraldsson was the son of Harald of Grenland and Ásta in Norway. They were a noble family with links to the Fairhair or Finehair Dynasty, named after King Harald Finehair of Norway (r. 860-940). Olaf’s father, Harald of Grenland, was life-long friends with a man named Rane (or Hrani) the Widely-Traveled. This Hrani aligned himself closely with Olaf’s family and their political interests. The family’s status quo, however, was thrown into chaos when Harald was murdered around 995, the death occurring shortly before Olaf’s birth. Hrani the Widely-Travelled was said to have helped Ásta and young Olaf escape their enemies, and he remained allied to the family when Ásta remarried. Her new husband was Sigurd Syr (sometimes spelled Sigurth Syr), ruler of Hringaríki. These figures—Olaf Haraldsson, his mother Ásta, his stepfather Sigurd Syr, and the loyal family friend Hrani the Widely-Travelled—are the characters featured in the artwork above. Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), an Icelandic politician, scholar, and prolific author, described the close relationship of these people in his Heimskringla (History of the Kings of Norway). He wrote, “Oláf, the son of Harald of Grenland, was brought up in the establishment of Sigurth Syr, his stepfather, and his mother Ásta. Hrani the Widely-Travelled lived with Ásta and was Oláf Haraldsson’s foster father” (Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 1).

At Ásta’s encouragement, Olaf Haraldsson and Hrani the Widely-Travelled grew to have a close bond. Going above and beyond in his role as the young noble’s foster father, Hrani served as a mentor and guardian during Olaf’s early adventures. There was no shortage of adventuring opportunities at that time, for a massive wave of Viking activity was targeting England in the first decades of the 11th century. Teenage Olaf joined in on the trend, reportedly reaching the shores of England around 1009. During that transformational journey, Olaf was accompanied by his right-hand man, Hrani, and a fleet of ships crewed by a veteran band of loyal warriors. For the next years, Olaf operated as a Viking and a mercenary leader in the regions of England, Spain and Normandy, gaining great wealth and also acquiring a valuable knowledge of war and politics. Around 1015, Olaf—now a well-traveled, wealthy, and militarily-experienced Viking warlord—finally returned to his homeland to seize the Norwegian throne, which had been left vacant since the death of King Olaf Tryggvason (r. 995-1000). On this return to his home and the announcement of his ambitions, Snorri Sturluson wrote:

“Now on a certain day, when King Oláf had not been there so very long, he asked King Sigurth [Syr] his stepfather, his mother Ásta, and his foster father Hrani to have a private conference with him. Then he spoke as follows…Now I shall disclose to you what has been in my mind for a long time, which is that I mean to regain my paternal inheritance; nor shall I go to see either the king of Denmark or the king of Sweden to ask them any favor, although they have for some time called their own what was the heritage after Harald Finehair. Rather, to tell you the truth, do I intend to seek my patrimony at the point of the sword…” (Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 35).

It should be noted, Christian Krohg was not explicitly clear about any specific time or setting for his painted meeting between Olaf, Ásta, Sigurd, and Hrani. Nevertheless, based on the ages of the figures and the seemingly intense and serious nature of the discussion, it is likely that the artwork depicts Olaf’s revelation to his family that he intended to become the king of Norway. As the opening sentence of the article gave away, the nobleman’s campaign for the throne was successful and he became King Olaf II of Norway (r. 1015-1028).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

  • Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
  • The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012.
  • The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854.
  • https://www.nasjonalmuseet.no/en/collection/object/NG.K_H.1957.0067

Aeschylus

By
thehistorianshut
-

Aeschylus (c. 525-456 BCE)

“What good are the oracles to men? Words, more words,
and the hurt comes on us, endless words
and a seer’s techniques have brought us
terror and the truth.”

  • From Aeschylus’ Agamemnon (approximately around line 1135), translated by Robert Fagles. New York: Penguin Classics, 1979.

The Story Of Emperor Constantine IV’s Mutilation Of His Brothers

By
thehistorianshut
-

Constantine IV was a son and successor of Emperor Constans II of Constantinople (r. 641-668/669). Constans II, like many emperors of Roman and European tradition of the time, dreamed of creating a power-sharing agreement between his sons. Constantine IV was the senior sibling, crowned as an heir in 654. Constantine’s brothers, Herakleios II and Tiberius, were also crowned as heirs, receiving their designations before Emperor Constans II set off on his ambitious, but ultimately unsuccessful, campaign to reconquer Italy in 662 or 663. Hopeful power sharing agreement aside, most responsibilities were placed on Constantine IV, including administrative control of Constantinople, while the emperor was focusing on the Italian campaign. Unfortunately for Constans II, he would never return from Italy, as the emperor was assassinated while he stayed in Syracuse around 668 or 669.

Upon the death of Constans II, the emperor’s children ascended to the throne. As had been the case when Constans II was still alive, Constantine—now Emperor Constantine IV (r. 668/669-685)—maintained firm control of the most important elements of the empire’s government, to the detriment of his brothers’ influence. Consequently, he was able to immediately mobilize the empire’s military and promptly set out to crush the rebellious forces responsible for the assassination of Constans II in Sicily. The rebels were reportedly defeated and executed within the year, allowing Emperor Constantine IV to quickly return to the capital and consolidate his authority over the government. A medieval chronicle known as the Chronographia, written by the scholar Theophanes (c. 750s-818), reported that Emperor Constantine IV rushed to ruthlessly purge factions that attempted to elevate his brothers to higher influence in government. In an entry for the year Annus Mundi 6161 (September 669-August 670), Theophanes wrote:

“The troops of the Anatolic theme came to Chrysopolis, saying, ‘We believe in a Trinity: let us crown the three.’ Constantine grew alarmed, for he alone had been crowned: his brothers had no rank at all. He sent out the patrician Theodore of Koloneia, who harangued the men and put them to flight in this way: he took their leaders into the city so they could take counsel with the senate and do what they decided. But the Emperor immediately hanged some of them at Sykai; seeing this, the Anatolic troops were dishonored, and went back to their own land in dismay. The emperor slit his brothers’ noses” (Theophanes, Chronographia, entry for the year Annus Mundi 6161).

There are a few historical inaccuracies in the quoted passage that should be addressed—the brothers, Herakleios II and Tiberius, had indeed been crowned as heirs during the reign of Constans II, and their mutilation has been dated to have actually occurred in 681 or 682, instead of the earlier date of 669/670 given in the entry for Annus Mundi 6161. Whatever the case, the quote showcases Emperor Constantine IV’s efforts to consolidate all real power under his own control and to keep his brothers sidelined. The political games ended in 681/682, when Emperor Constantine IV deposed, disowned and mutilated his brothers, cutting their respective branches of the family off from the line of succession. Theophanes, the aforementioned chronicler, wrote of that event, stating, “In this year Constantine removed his brothers Herakleios and Tiberius from imperial power, and ruled alone with his son Justinian [II]” (Chronographia, entry for the year Annus Mundi 6173). Unfortunately, the case of Constantine IV mutilating his brothers was not a unique story; power sharing arrangements, even among siblings, rarely resulted in peaceful successions among the kingdoms and empires of ancient and medieval history.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Middle Ages — costumes and weapons of the Byzantines from the year 700 to 1000, by Friedrich Hottenroth (c. 1840-1917), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Smithsonian).

Sources:

  • Theophanes, The Chronicle of Theophanes, translated by Harry Turtledove. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982.
  • History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.
  • The Oxford Dictionary of Late Antiquity, edited by Oliver Nicholson. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018.
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