Home Blog Page 131

Duke Giselpert’s Robbery Of A Centuries-Old Regal Tomb

A man named Giselpert was an 8th-century duke of Verona, within the Kingdom of the Lombards in Italy. His existence was attested to by a fellow 8th-century Lombard, Paul the Deacon (lived approximately 720-799), who authored a History of the Lombards. In Paul’s History, Duke Giselpert was said to have been fascinated with a royal tomb that was housed in his seat of power at the city of Verona. The tomb was that of King Alboin—the ruler who had originally led the Lombard people into Italy in 568. A formidable warrior and a talented strategist, King Alboin firmly entrenched his newfound Kingdom of the Lombards in Italy by the time of his death in 572 or 573. Alboin’s death was not natural or peaceful. Instead, he was assassinated in Verona by a group of conspirators led by his own wife Rosamund (whose father he had killed). Despite his violent death, King Alboin was honorably entombed by his people, who buried him with fine gear and treasure, which went undisturbed by Alboin’s successor, King Cleph (r. 572-574). The grave apparently remained free of looting until Paul the Deacon’s own era, when Duke Giselpert of Verona decided to open up the tomb. Paul recorded the event, writing, “In our own days, Giselpert, who had been duke of Verona, opened his [Alboin’s] grave and took away his sword and any other of his ornaments found there. And for this reason he boasted with his accustomed vanity among ignorant men that he had seen Alboin” (Paul the Deacon, History of the Lombards, II.28). Unfortunately, few other details were written about Duke Giselpert or what he did with the relics of King Alboin that he had pilfered.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Illustration of a drawn sword, designed by Adolf von Menzel, (c. 1815 – 1905), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Smithsonian).

 

Sources:

  • History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.
  • History of the Wars by Procopius, translated by H. B. Dewing. Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1919.
  • The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.

Arcadian Landscape With Jupiter And Io, Painted By Johannes Glauber (c. 1646–1726)

This landscape painting, dominated by dark and chilling colors, was created by the Dutch artist, Johannes Glauber (c. 1646–1726). The scene re-creates the beginning of the myth of Io—a Naiad nymph fathered by the river god, Inachus. Io had the misfortune of crossing paths with Zeus (or Jupiter), the ever-lustful, and often unrestrained, high-god of the Greco-Roman pantheon of deities. Zeus offered to escort the nymph wherever she wanted to go, but as soon as he revealed his identity to her, Io became defensive. She had evidently heard of Zeus’ assaultive nature regarding women, and she wanted nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, when Zeus had his lecherous mind set, he was not one to give up the chase, regardless of consent. The Roman poet, Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE), skillfully described the uncomfortable scene:

“[Zeus said] If you are afraid to enter the wild beasts’ lair on your own,
you’ll be safe with a god to guide you into the forest’s secret
recesses—no ordinary god, but I who wield in my mighty
hand the sceptre of heaven and hurl the volatile lightning.’
She started to flee. ‘Don’t run from me now!’ Already she’d left
the pastures of Lerna and woody Lyrcéan country behind her,
when Jupiter, throwing a mantle of darkness over the wide earth,
halted the flight of the runaway nymph and stealthily raped her”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, I.593-600)

Such is the sad tale that is unfolding in the dimly-lit painting above by Johannes Glauber. Unfortunately, Io’s tale did not end with her assault. According to the story, Zeus would go on to turn Io into a cow to hide her from Hera—Zeus’s vengeful wife, who was as (or more) hostile to her husband’s victims as she was scornful to Zeus. Hera, suspicious about the affection that Zeus was showing to his mysterious animal, seized the cow-nymph and had her guarded. In response, the god Hermes was sent, on Zeus’ orders, to free the bovine Io from her captivity. Yet, as soon as cow-Io was sprung from her pasture, Hera felt her suspicions were confirmed, and therefore she sent demon-like entities to haunt Io. In cattle form, Io wandered the earth while being chased by her demons, eventually reaching Egypt. Fortunately, Zeus had been slowly but steadily placating Hera’s wrath behind the scenes, and Io was eventually allowed to be reverted back to her humanoid shape.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Tale Of Wang Wenshu’s Thousand Family Mass Execution

Wang Wenshu was a prominent government official who filled various high-ranking law enforcement roles in the late 2nd century BCE. He served Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE), who deployed the official on an as-needed basis to regions or positions that the emperor felt had been infested by crime or conspiracy. Wherever Weng Wenshu was appointed, a bloodbath of executions usually followed, driven by the official’s unusually high arrest rates and the merciless ancient Chinese legal codes that determined the fates of his prisoners.

Weng Wenshu’s prowess as a crime fighter largely derived from his innovations in the use of tip lines and informants. Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), a historian employed by Emperor Wu, commented on some of Weng Wenshu’s simpler methods, stating, “He put out boxes in which people could deposit accusations and reports of crimes, for which the accusers would receive a reward, and set up chiefs in villages and rural communities to watch for and arrest bandits” (Shi Ji, 122). Besides these watchmen and tip boxes, Weng Wenshu developed his own brand of crime eradication by recruiting vulnerable criminals to implicate their colleagues, employers, and contacts in crimes. In regards to these criminal informants, the aforementioned Sima Qian claimed that Weng Wenshu “ferreted out all of their secret crimes, but overlooked what he had found and put them in charge of capturing the bandits in the region. So long as they did as he wished and brought in the bandits he wanted captured, he did not press charges against them, even though they might be guilty of 100 crimes” (Shi Ji, 122). Through the use of these knowledgeable informants, Weng Wenshu could quickly piece together a network of the criminal activities and enterprises that were going on in the regions that he was governing. Intelligence was only one aspect of his law enforcement process, however, for he also was said to have used beatings and torture to interrogate the people that he arrested. With his informant-driven information and his torture-inspired confessions, Weng Wenshu was able to present compelling (but not necessarily accurate) lists of accused criminals to his employer, Emperor Wu.

The most famous, or infamous, mass trial and sentencing that Weng Wenshu carried out occurred when he was serving as the governor of Henei. As the story goes, the governor’s methods of tips, informants, and interrogations led to 1,000 individual families in that region being implicated in varying degrees of crimes. When the names were presented to the throne, Weng Wenshu reportedly recommended a sentence of execution for every single person on the list. Criminals accused of lesser crimes would face execution alone, but for the criminals guilty of the highest crimes, Weng Wenshu suggested that their entire families be put to death, too. Perhaps most enticing of all to the emperor, however, was a proposal from Weng Wenshu that whether or not the relatives of the criminal were executed along with their loved one, the properties of the condemned should all be seized by the crown. These recommendations and the emperor’s response were recorded by Sima Qian:

“He sent a letter to the throne asking that the major offenders be executed along with the members of their families, the lesser offenders put to death, and all their estates confiscated by the government to compensate for the illegal gains which they had gotten in the past. He forwarded the letter by means of the post horses he had stationed along the way, and in no more than two or three days an answer came back from the emperor approving his proposal. He proceeded to carry out the sentence at once, and the blood flowed for miles” (Shi Ji, 122).

There is no telling how many people were executed in that mass-execution. At the minimum, 1,000 people would have been sentenced to death on Weng Wenshu’s list from Henei. For those who were deemed to have committed major crimes, their families were also executed, a grim punishment that was often extended to three generations of the accused criminal’s clan. Ironically, Weng Wenshu would eventually join many of his victims in sharing the fate of a mass execution. Around 104 BCE, after being discovered attempting to help a friend evade conscription into the poorly orchestrated military campaign against the Kingdom of Dayuan (in the Ferghana valley area near modern Uzbekistan and Kyrgystan), Weng Wenshu came under investigation and was sentenced to execution. He took his own life, but it did not spare his family. Weng Wenshu’s father, mother, wife, two brothers, and all relatives of each of these five people were executed.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Painting described as General Yue Fei’s son, Yue Yun, being taught fighting techniques in his sleep, dated 18th or 19th century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the National Museum in Warsaw).

 

Sources:

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

Apollo And Daphne, Painted by Francesco Albani (c. 1578–1660)

This painting, by the Italian artist Francesco Albani (c. 1578–1660), depicts the beginning of a raucous myth involving three deities. The female character on the left side of the painting is Daphne, a Naiad nymph who was fathered by a river god. Chasing after her is the god, Apollo, and hovering mischievously above them is Eros (or Cupid). As told in the myth, Daphne had the misfortune of being near Apollo and Cupid while the two archer-gods insulted each other in an argument over which of them had a better claim to their favorite weapon—the bow. Apollo won the verbal debate, but Cupid was eager to seek revenge through a palpable display of his power over desire. What Cupid would do next would ignite the scene displayed above in Francesco Albani’s painting. The Roman poet, Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE) described the event:

“[Cupid] beat his wings and cut a path through the atmosphere,
nimbly alighting upon the heights of shady Parnassus.
Once there he drew from his quiver two arrows of contrary purpose:
one is for rousing passion, the other is meant to repel it.
The former is made of gold, and its head has a sharp, bright point,
while the latter is blunt and weighted with lead [on] one side of the reed shaft.
That was the arrow which Cupid implanted in Daphne’s bosom;
the other was aimed at Apollo and smote to the core of his being.
Phoebus [Apollo] at once was filled with desire, but Daphne fled
from the very thought of a lover”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, 1.466-475)

Such is the scene playing out in the painting above. It shows the events that unfolded after Cupid forced Apollo to fall in love with Daphne, who, in turn, was conversely inspired to reject all erotic urges. And so, the chase began. Ovid skillfully continued the tale:

“Flight made her all the more lovely; but now the god in his youthful
ardour was ready no longer to squander his breath on wheedling
pleas. Spurred on by desire, he followed the trail with new vigour.
Imagine a greyhound, imagine a hare it has sighted in open
country: one running to capture his prey, the other for safety.”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, 1.530-534)

Apollo was faster than Daphne and was steadily gaining ground on her. In the end, the Naiad nymph had to take drastic action to escape her pursuer. As the story goes, Daphne thwarted Apollo’s desires by transforming into a laurel tree. Although Apollo could not fulfill his Cupid-inspired passions, his devotion to Daphne was said to have continued after her transformation through a newfound platonic affection for laurels.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Tale Of Saint Aredius And His Persistent Pet Dove

In the 6th century, there lived a man named Aredius (later known as Yrieix). He was a member of a prominent family in the vicinity of Limoges, and his family’s status and influence allowed him to join the entourage of King Theodebert I (r. 533-548) of the Franks. Aredius, however, was soon recruited away from the king’s court by Bishop Nicetius of Trier, who encouraged the young man to become a monk. Aredius took up the offer and joined the bishop in Trier. While studying under Bishop Nicetius, Aredius made a great impression on his peers. As the stories go, even in his earliest years in the clergy, people could sense great saintly potential burgeoning in the monk. Of the many alleged holy signs of sainthood, there was one supposed series of events that occurred during Aredius’ days under Nicetius’ tutelage that caused tremendous wonder and awe in the eyes of young clergyman’s colleagues. It is a tale that involves a religiously-significant dove.

As the story goes, not long after becoming a monk in Trier, Aredius made a curious friend in a dove that was known to frequently perch on the various church properties in the city. This dove eventually found its way into the local cathedral in Trier and when Aredius entered the church with other fellow monks to chant psalms, the friendly bird glided down to say hello. Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), who personally met Aredius, recorded this incident:

“One day when the clergy were chanting psalms in the cathedral, a dove flew down from the ceiling, fluttered gently round Aredius and then alighted on his head. This was in my opinion a clear sign that he was filled with the grace of the Holy Ghost. He was embarrassed by what had happened and tried to drive the dove away. It flew round for a while and then settled down again, first on his head and then on his shoulder. Not only did this happen in the cathedral, but when Aredius went off to the Bishop’s cell, the dove accompanied him. This was repeated day after day, to the great surprise of Nicetius” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, X.29).

Unfortunately, further information about the Aredius’ dove is unknown. It was said to have followed him around for a long period of time while he was in Trier. The dove, however, seems to have remained in Trier, or otherwise flew away or died, around the time when Aredius left for home in the mid 6th century. He was drawn back to his ancestral land after the death of his father and brother, as he inherited his prominent family’s estates and wanted to keep his grieving mother, Pelagia, company. She, too, died in 572. Aredius eventually used his land and money to build churches and also founded a monastery in Limousin (the monastery of Saint Yrieix), over which he became abbot. After a long life, Aredius died in the year 591.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (19th century print, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Rijksmuseum).

 

Sources:

The Baptism Of Clovis, By Jacobus Buys (c. 1724-1801)

This illustration, by the Dutch artist Jacobus Buys (c. 1724-1801), depicts a momentous event from the life of King Clovis (r. 481-511), a warlord who consolidated the Merovingian Dynasty’s power over the Franks and spread Frankish power to encompass most of France. Depicted here is a scene of King Clovis being baptized as a Roman Catholic Christian, as opposed to the Arian sect of Christianity that was popular with other Germanic peoples of that time. Traditionally, Clovis’ baptism is usually dated to the year 496, soon after a military campaign against the Alemanni. Nevertheless, as historians are wont to do, this traditional date has been contested, and proposals have been made to push the date of the baptism forward on King Clovis’ timeline to a later period of his reign. The ceremony was carried out by Saint Remigius, bishop of Rheims. Decades after the event, Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594) wrote an account of Clovis’ baptism in his Ten Books of Histories, also commonly known as the History of the Franks:

“The public squares were draped with coloured cloths, the churches were adorned with white hangings, the baptistry was prepared, sticks of incense gave off clouds of perfume, sweet-smelling candles gleamed bright and the holy place of baptism was filled with divine fragrance. God filled the hearts of all present with such grace that they imagined themselves to have been transported to some perfumed paradise. King Clovis asked that he might be baptized first by the Bishop. Like some new Constantine he stepped forward to the baptismal pool…As he advanced for his baptism, the holy man of God addressed him in these pregnant words: ‘Bow your head in meekness, Sicamber. Worship what you have burnt, burn what you have been wont to worship” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, II.31).

Such is the event that Jacobus Buys strove to depict in his illustration—a scene of King Clovis being baptized into the Roman church by Bishop Remigius. The king did not undergo baptism alone. As the story goes, more than 3,000 of his followers were also baptized that day.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

Xenophon

Xenophon (c. 420-350 BCE)

“The laws are your own creation and it is the laws, above all, which have made you great. Abide by them and never attempt to do anything without their sanction.”

  • A History of My Times (Hellenica, I.7.29) by Xenophon, translated by Rex Warner. New York: Penguin Classics, 1966, 1979.

The Origin Story Of The Nez Percé Tribe Name

The Nez Percé tribe, which now calls itself the Nimiipuu people, are a sovereign Native American nation that once held extensive territory in the lands that are now divided among Washington, Oregon, and Idaho in the United States of America. Their expeditions for hunting, fishing and trade also frequently brought them into regions of Montana and Wyoming. Before the Nimiipuu came in contact with frontiersmen of the United States, they had already encountered French explorers, fur traders and missionaries. It was from these Frenchmen that the Nez Percé name was coined. Chief Joseph, one of the most famous leaders in the tribe’s history, recorded an origin story of the name in his remarkable account of the brief, but dramatic, Nez Percé War, which occurred in 1877. In his text, Chief Joseph’s Own Story, Chief Joseph introduced his tribe as the “Chute-pa-lu” people, but he went on to describe that the French, “called our people ‘Nez Percés,’ because they wore rings in their noses for ornaments. Although very few of our people wear them now, we are still called by the same name” (Chief Joseph’s Own Story, paragraph 4). Nez Percé translates to “Pierced Nose” in French, referencing the nose ornaments mentioned in Chief Joseph’s account. Curiously, this might have been a case of misidentification by the French. As was reported by Chief Joseph in his account, it was rare to find one of his people with a pierced nose, and it has been argued that the Nez Percé people, despite their French label, never traditionally wore nose ornaments.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Left: H’co-a-h’co-a-h’cotes-min (Rabbit’s Skin Leggings) painted by George Catlin (c. 1796-1872); Center: Chief Joseph painted by William Henry Holmes (c. 1846-1933); Right: Hee-oh’ks-te-kin (No Horns on His Head) painted by George Catlin, all [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Smithsonian).

 

Sources:

Landscape With Moses And The Burning Bush, Painted By Domenichino (c. 1581-1641)

This painting, by the Italian artist Domenichino (aka Domenico Zampieri, c. 1581-1641), was inspired by the famous biblical story of Moses and the burning bush. It was one of three miracles that were said to have convinced Moses to become a champion to the Hebrews in Egypt. The burning bush episode appears early in the Book of Exodus, occurring when Moses was in the wilderness overseeing a flock of sheep that belonged to an Egyptian priest. The religious text described what happened next:

“There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. So Moses thought, ‘I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up.’ When the Lord saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, ‘Moses! Moses!’ And Moses said, ‘Here I am.’ ‘Do not come any closer,’ God said. ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.’ Then he said, ‘I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob… I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt’” (Exodus 3:2-10, NIV translation).

It is this scene of Moses and the burning bush that Domenichino re-creates in his painting. The artwork is dominated by a landscape brushed in shades of blue and green. At the bottom of the painting, however, a sandal-less Moses can be found, draped in a red cloak, and standing in front of the sheep that he had been tasked with watching. Beside him, painted in fiery yellows and oranges, is the burning bush.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Tale Of Dame Magnatrude’s Battle Against The Renegade Official, Chuppa

Chuppa was a warrior and official of fairly high status in the lands of the Franks in the 6th century. He was known to have served King Chilperic (r. 561-584) and then was an agent of the king’s widow, Queen Fredegund (d. 597), but after an eventual falling-out with the queen, he seemingly started to roam the Frankish empire with a personal army of goons, seeking out opportunities for himself instead of doing the bidding of the nobility. Of the many goals that the now self-serving Chuppa wanted to accomplish for himself, a marriage was high on the list. He had a bride in mind—a daughter of the late Bishop Badegisel of Le Mans (r. 581-586). Although the bishop was dead, his wife was still alive. Her name was Dame Magnatrude, and she was a no-nonsense, tough individual, as Chuppa would soon find out.

After the death of Bishop Badegisel, the widowed Dame Magnatrude became embroiled in a bitter legal fight with Bertram, the next bishop of Le Mans. They quarreled over the bishopric’s lands, wealth and treasures. In the end, Bishop Bertram was the victor in the dispute, but Dame Magnatrude did not necessarily come out of the fight with a loss. Through steadfastly asserting her claims to what she convincingly identified as her rightful property, Magnatrude was able to maintain control of a sizable estate, ample wealth, and a large staff of workers. It was this unyielding fighter of a woman whose daughter Chuppa wanted to marry, and as far as Magnatrude was concerned, Chuppa’s proposal was unwelcome.

Intending to threaten or impress Magnatrude and her daughter, Chuppa appeared on their estate with his army of henchmen. Magnatrude, however, viewed this display of force with disgust. Instead of humoring Chuppa’s marriage proposal, Magnatrude instead barred the doors to her estate homes and mustered the local workers and servants into a fighting force of her own. Chuppa, in turn, did not take the rejection well. With the battle lines drawn, Chuppa decided to try to take his bride by force. Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), a figure contemporaneous to that time, wrote of the peculiar scene that occurred that day:

“Chuppa assembled some of his men and tried to carry off as his bride the daughter of Badigisel, the late Bishop of Le Mans. With a band of followers he broke into a country house at Mareil to accomplish his design, but when the girl’s mother, Dame Magnatrude, came to hear of his plans, she assembled her servants and sallied forth against him. Several of Chuppa’s men were killed. He himself escaped, but it was a pretty discreditable affair” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, X.5).

After being driven away from the estate by Magnatrude and her mob of armed servants, Chuppa’s activity in the lands of the Franks dramatically decreased. Perhaps his reputation was tarnished enough by the incident that he became a pariah in Frankish society. Or maybe he was injured in the fight and later died of his wounds. Whatever the case, Chuppa slipped into obscurity after being defeated in battle by the formidable Dame Magnatrude.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scene from the life of Jeanne d’Arc, printed in the 19th century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Rijksmuseum).

 

Sources:

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