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The Fall Of Charlemagne’s Uncle, Grifo

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thehistorianshut
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Grifo was one of four known sons fathered by Charles Martel, the powerful mayor of the palace who held more influence and might than the Merovingian monarchs he supposedly served. When Charles Martel died in 741, his lands and influence were split between his sons. One of the sons, a certain Bernard, was, for the most part, excluded from succession as he had joined the church. That left three other sons, Pippin (III) the Short, Carloman and Grifo, to jostle for their inheritance.

It is unknown how much land, if any, was formally allotted to Grifo, Charles Martel’s youngest son. Nevertheless, the author of the continuation of the Chronicle of Fredegar reported that Charles Martel had a special affection for Grifo. Possibly inspired by this relationship, and backed by his mother Swanahilde, Grifo raised an army in an attempt to become the sole ruler of the Franks, or at least to seize more land and influence for himself.

Grifo, however, was no match for Pippin and Carloman, especially when the two brothers worked together. They mustered their own armies and coordinated a siege against Grifo’s headquarters at Laon. Before 741 ended, Pippin and Carloman successfully crushed their brother’s army and took Grifo into custody. Carloman took responsibility for keeping an eye on his brother—he sent Grifo to Neufchâteau, in the Ardennes Mountains, where he remained under arrest for years. Swanahild, Grifo’s supportive mother, was also seized and locked away in a convent at Chelles.

Grifo was finally released around the year 747, when Carloman retired from political life and became a monk. Upon his release, Grifo quickly showed that he had not lost any of his ambition during his years of captivity. According to the Royal Frankish Annals, Grifo immediately traveled to Saxony, a constant hotbed of resistance to the Franks. When Pippin the Short learned that his brother was raising another army, he mobilized his own force and confronted Grifo in 747. The two brothers had a standoff at the River Oker, but they made peace before any blood was reportedly spilled.

Even after being thwarted for a second time by his brother, Grifo still was not willing to give up on his ambitions. In 748, with the forces he had gathered in Saxony and support from a count named Suidger, Grifo invaded the region of Bavaria, where he usurped power from his nephew, Duke Tassilo III, and captured his own sister, Hiltrude, the duke’s mother.

This was too much for Pippin to condone—before the end of 748, he marched his army into Bavaria, removed Grifo from power and restored Tassilo to his position as duke. Interestingly, Pippin the Short still was willing to show a little generosity to his brother. Although he removed Grifo from Bavaria, Pippin reportedly softened the blow by granting his brother a fiefdom of twelve counties in Neustria.

Grifo, however, could not be contained to Neustria. Still in 748, he fled to Duke Waifar of Aquitaine, a man who would later prove to be one of Pippin’s greatest rivals. After that, little is known about Grifo’s actions. His name finally made a reappearance in the records around 753, at which time the wayward prince met with a violent end in Gascony, or while allegedly trying to travel to Lombardy.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Painting of 9th century Franks, by Albert Kretschmer c. 1882, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

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

Edgar Allan Poe

By
thehistorianshut
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Edgar Allan Poe (c. 1809-1849)

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence–whether much that is glorious–whether all that is profound–does not spring from disease of thought–from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

  •  From Edgar Allan Poe’s Eleonora in Edgar Allan Poe: Complete Works (JKL Classics, 2017).

The Allegedly Fatal Study Sessions Of Seleucus, A Scholar From The Reign Of Tiberius

By
thehistorianshut
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According to the Roman biographer, Suetonius (c. 70-130+), Emperor Tiberius (r. 14-37) read daily and liked to quiz his dinner guests on trivia from the subjects he had studied that day. Apparently, a certain scholar named Seleucus was a frequent guest at Tiberius’ table and he would astound the emperor by being able to answer every question that Tiberius asked. Such knowledge and memory, however, did not come naturally to Seleucus. Instead, before he ever had a meal with Tiberius, Seleucus reportedly talked to the emperor’s servants and questioned them about what Tiberius was currently reading. With these helpful tips from the servants, Seleucus would then thoroughly study the books in question so he could answer any of the emperor’s questions. Unfortunately for the scholar, word of Seleucus’ pre-dinner studies reached Tiberius’ ear. The emperor interpreted this as cheating and promptly cut off all contact with the scholar. Suetonius even alleged that Tiberius later forced Seleucus to commit suicide.

As for the identity of the Seleucus in the story, there happened to have been a prominent scholar with that name who likely lived during the reign of Tiberius. His name was Seleucus “Homericus” of Alexandria. He seemed to have been best known as a scholar of language—he wrote a piece on the Greek language and another on proverbs that could be found in Alexandria. Seleucus of Alexandria was also a prolific biographer and a writer of literary critiques who commented on the works of many scholars and poets. Nevertheless, other than his name and bibliography, most of his writings only remain in fragments, and little is known about the actual life of Seleucus of Alexandria. As a result, he is a plausible, but not proven, fit for Suetonius’s story.

It is possible that this story is simply folklore or rumor about Tiberius’ strange reign. After all, Suetonius’ style was dominated by stories that portrayed the personalities of his subjects, and he sometimes used rumor and satirical songs as a source to get a glimpse of public opinion toward a figure. Furthermore, Suetonius’ enthusiasm and focus seemed to decrease after he completed his biographies of Julius Caesar and Augustus—his accounts on the rest of The Twelve Caesars are shorter and less detailed. Nevertheless, much of the information recorded by Suetonius was truthful, either as historical fact, or, at least, it was genuinely what many Romans believed.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (The Great Library of Alexandria, c. 19th century, by O. Von Corven [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Aristotle

By
thehistorianshut
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Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE)

“The man who thinks that he is worthy of great things although he is not worthy of them is conceited; but not everybody is conceited who has too high an opinion of his own worth.”

  • From The Nicomachean Ethics (Bekker number 1123b) by Aristotle, translated by J. A. K. Thomson (Penguin Classics, 2004).

 

The Downfall of Callisthenes, The Official Royal Historian Of Alexander The Great

By
thehistorianshut
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Alexander the Great had such confidence in himself and his army’s ability that he must have believed wondrous deeds would be an inevitable part of his future. So, before invading the Persian Empire in 334 BCE, Alexander the Great hired an official historian to document his military campaigns. The man tasked with this job was Callisthenes of Olynthus. Like Alexander, Callisthenes was a student of Aristotle. In fact, he and Aristotle had co-written a piece on the Pythian Games. Yet, Callisthenes was best known for his ten-volume history of Greece, covering events that occurred around the years 386-355 BCE. As a result, it is not surprising that Callisthenes came highly recommended when Alexander the Great put out a request for a royal historian to attend him on his journeys. The fact that Callisthenes was Aristotle’s nephew also undoubtedly helped in the selection process.

While accompanying the conquering king, Callisthenes was not just any historian—he was also Alexander’s propagandist. His job was not simply to document Alexander’s campaigns, but to write it in the way that best promoted the king’s public image. Callisthenes understood this second role of his and did indeed fill his history of Alexander with propaganda. From fragments of the history that survive, as well as references and critiques aimed at it from other ancient authors, we know that Callisthenes’ account was filled with stories of divine interventions on the Macedonian king’s behalf, and he was also one of the first to write down rumors alleging that Alexander may have been fathered by a god.

What Callisthenes wrote and what Callisthenes believed, however, were two vastly different realities. Paradoxically, while Callisthenes was Alexander’s chief propagandist, he was also one of the king’s boldest critics. Unfortunately for the historian, he was becoming more vocal with his criticisms at a time when Alexander was starting to openly eliminate threats to his rule. In 330 BCE, Alexander executed a nobleman named Philotas after he had failed to report an assassination plot to the king. He also used the situation as an excuse to kill Philotas’ father, Parmenio, a respected Macedonian general. A few years later, in 328 BCE, Alexander killed a close friend named Cleitus the Black during a drunken rage. Although he mourned for Cleitus in the days afterward, Alexander still showed a willingness to eliminate obstacles to his rule, even if the threats were friends.

Callisthenes’ outspoken criticisms of Alexander reached a breaking point in 327 BCE. At the time, Alexander was trying to bridge the cultural divide between Greece and the new lands he had conquered. One way he tried to do this was by wearing a hybrid wardrobe, mixing and matching pieces of Greek and Persian fashion. Callisthenes and other veterans from the European homeland grumbled at this, but they could contain their frustration as long as Alexander refused to include pants in his outfit, which the Greeks believed were a barbarian garment. Yet fashion was of little concern compared to another Persian custom that Alexander was thinking of imposing on his countrymen.

In the culture of the Persian Empire, the satraps and other nobility were expected to prostrate themselves on the ground before their king of kings. In contrast, the Greeks rarely bowed to anything or anyone, except to gods, and even then, a lowered head would usually suffice for the Greek deities. This clash of cultures only intensified as Alexander conquered the Persian Empire. By 327 BCE, when Callisthenes began to speak his criticisms, Alexander had conquered the Persian Empire and was now preparing to invade India. As a result, Alexander’s retinue was by then filled with countless former Persian officials who prostrated themselves on the ground every time they met with the king. Alexander’s trusted officers, who had followed him all the way from Macedonia, found this custom shocking, but also amusing, and they often snickered at the Persian officials groveling before the king. For his part, Alexander did not think that one demographic from his empire laughing at another demographics’ custom was healthy for imperial unity, so he decided to bridge the divide between the cultures. Unfortunately for the Greeks, he placed most of the burden of change on them.

According to the ancient sources, Alexander tried several times to get the Greeks to prostrate themselves like the Persians, and in each tale Callisthenes played a major role in thwarting the plan. In one account, a motion was put forward for Alexander to be proclaimed divine during his lifetime. It was a status that may have made prostration more palatable to the Greeks. Callisthenes, even though he had already written about Alexander’s alleged divine connections, reportedly gave a convincing speech against acknowledging Alexander’s divinity while he still lived, putting an end to the motion. In another story, Alexander tried to ease his companions into bowing by having them go, one by one, through an odd ceremony that consisted of them drinking wine from a goblet, then prostrating themselves before Alexander (or to a god’s shrine just behind the king) and then finally receiving a friendly kiss from their leader. All was apparently going smoothly with this plan until Callisthenes obstinately skipped the step of prostration, which rejuvenated Greek resistance to Alexander’s reform. In the end, the historian succeeded in sabotaging his king’s wishes, but Alexander would not forget Callisthenes’ actions.

In 327 BCE, while Callisthenes’ undermining behavior was fresh on Alexander’s mind, a group of royal pages launched a conspiracy to assassinate the king. According to the ancient sources, a page named Hermolaus started the plot after Alexander had publicly humiliated him as punishment for improper behavior during a boar hunt. The young conspirators, however, were incredibly loose-lipped with their plan, so word of the plot quickly reached the ear of Alexander. When the plot was discovered, the king immediately arrested the conspirators and, as Hermolaus sometimes talked of philosophy and history with Callisthenes, he had the royal historian arrested, as well.

Alexander condemned Callisthenes to death even though there was little-to-no evidence linking the historian to the plot. The historian, Plutarch, even claimed he had read a letter written by Alexander to some of his generals, in which he confessed that Callisthenes was not involved. Nevertheless, it was a convenient opportunity for Alexander to rid himself of the pesky scholar.

Hermolaus and the other conspirators were said to have been either stoned or tortured to death. Callisthenes, however, was executed by different means, although the eyewitness sources did not agree on the method of execution. In Ptolemy’s account, Callisthenes was tortured and hanged. Aristobulus and Chares instead reported that Callisthenes was either manacled in chains or confined in some other way until he died. In the end, no one knows exactly how Callisthenes met his end, but it was evidently not a pleasant experience.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Alexander the Great Refuses To Take Water, by Giuseppe Cades (1750–1799), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Sima Qian

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

Sima Qian (145-90 BCE)

“Listening to advice is the basis of an undertaking, and planning is the key to success.”

  • From a speech delivered by Kuai Tong in the Records of the Grand Historian (Shi Ji, 92) by Sima Qian. Translated by Burton Watson (Columbia University Press, 1993).

 

Leucothea—A Mortal Greek Woman Of Myth Said To Have Become A Goddess

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

Among the exclusive club of Greek deities that could claim to have originally been mortal humans was an interesting immortal named Leucothea the White Goddess. She began her days as a proud Greek princess in an important Boeotian city, but, after a life of tragedy and madness, she became a protective goddess of the sea.

A definitive origin story for Leucothea is difficult to pin down, as many ancient scholars and poets wrote about the goddess, using different sources for their works, and sometimes adding their own twists to the myth. Homer, the first known Greek writer to mention her, laid out the foundation for her story—he stated that Leucothea had originally been a woman named Ino, the daughter of Cadmus, the mythical founder of Thebes. In The Odyssey, Leucothea emerged from the sea to save Odysseus from a storm sent by Poseidon. Her role in Homer’s tale reflected her reputation as a goddess, for she was believed to be a deity that protected sailors in peril.

To find out why and how Leucothea became a goddess requires sources other than Homer. The generally accepted, but not unanimous, account of her origin was the one told by writers such as Ovid, Nonnus, Pausanias and Callistratus. In many ways, Leucothea’s myth was linked to that of Dionysus, the powerful earth deity of vegetation and wine. In fact, according to some of the myths, Dionysus was Leucothea’s biological nephew.

As the story goes, Ino (the mortal name of Leucothea) was one of several daughters fathered by Cadmus, the founder of Thebes. One of Ino’s sisters was Semele, a woman fancied by Zeus, the leader of the Olympian gods. In some myths, Zeus impregnated Semele with Dionysus. That version of the story ended with Hera tricking the still-pregnant Semele into asking Zeus to reveal his unfiltered brilliance, resulting in Semele being tragically burned to death by lightning. In that scenario, Zeus picked up the underdeveloped Dionysus from the ashes and sewed the baby god into his own leg until the fledgling deity could mature. In another version of the myth, Dionysus was brought into existence by Zeus and Persephone. In that tale, Hera hired titans to assassinate Dionysus after he was born, which they succeeded to do, even going so far as tearing the newborn god to pieces and eating the scraps. Fortunately, the titans left behind Dionysus’ heart, and this grisly remnant was retrieved by a goddess and brought to Zeus. At this point in the tale, Semele (who did not die in this version of the story) is brought back into the plot of the myth—using the heart, Zeus summoned Dionysus back to life and planted him inside of the Theban princess to be reborn.

In both origin myths of Dionysus, Ino became the god’s aunt and played a role in his upbringing. When Semele died, Ino took over the role of Dionysus’ nurse and acted as a foster mother. Ino’s care and devotion to Dionysus, however, dangerously courted the easily provoked wrath of Hera. Indeed, Hera eventually sent a curse of madness to infest the minds of Ino and her husband, Athamas.

At this point, some of the ancient accounts began to lead in different directions. Plutarch wrote that Ino had the greater share of madness, manifesting in an unrelenting jealousy aimed at a slave woman named Antiphera. In that story, the jealousy and madness prompted Ino to murder her own son. Plutarch, however, never wrote about Ino’s death in his comments on the story, and many other popular versions of the myths disagreed with his portrayal of the goddess.

The more common version of Ino’s fate placed most of the madness on her husband, Athamas. In this telling of the story, Athamas slew their eldest son in a rage and chased Ino, who was holding their young child, Melicertes, all the way to a high cliff. Either in terror of her maddened husband, or inspired by a madness of her own, Ino jumped from the cliff and plummeted down to the sea while still clutching her son. When she hit the waters, Dionysus successfully lobbied for Ino to be accepted into the ranks of the gods. Upon their ascension into godhood, Ino took the name Leucothea and her son became the god, Palaimon. They both inhabited the sea and served as helpful guardians for sailors.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Odysseus and Ino/Leucothea, by Alessandro Allori (1535–1607), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Homer

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

Homer (flourished c. 700 BCE)

“Delusion, eldest daughter of Zeus who
blinds us all, damn her. She never touches the ground with those
soft feet of hers but flits over men’s heads, corrupting them and
shackling one man after another.”

  • From The Iliad (Book 19, between lines 90-100) by Homer, translated by E. V. Rieu and revised by Peter Jones (Penguin Classics, 2014).

The Laurel Wreaths That May Have Doomed Julius Caesar

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

In the final year of his life, Julius Caesar reportedly had several odd incidents involving laurel wreaths. It is possible that he may have even staged some of the events to test the reaction of the masses to the possibility of him becoming king. These odd episodes, along with Caesar’s vitriolic essay against his deceased enemy Cato, were some of the key blunders in public relations that led to the dictator’s eventual assassination.

One of the first incidents did not involve a wreath, but, instead, a ribbon. While Caesar prepared for an invasion of Parthia, he had his agents spread a prophecy from the Sibylline Books that claimed only a king could conquer the Parthians. In support of this prophecy, a ribbon was mysteriously tied around the head of a statue of Caesar in the Forum. As the Romans believed ribbons to be an eastern symbol of kingship, the masses, and especially the Senate, understood and feared what was being suggested. Two Tribunes of the Plebeians, named Epidus Marullus and Caesetius Flavus, had the ribbon quickly removed from the statue.

In another account, possibly another version of the story mentioned above, a laurel wreath with a white fillet was draped over the head of a statue of Caesar while the dictator was away from Rome, attending the Latin Festival of Jupiter Latiaris, which was held at the Alban Mount. The same tribunes, Marullus and Flavus, once again had the wreath removed from the statue’s head and arrested the person who had placed it there. The tribunes also reacted negatively when somebody in a crowd shouted out Caesar’s affiliation with a respected family (through a grandmother)—the clan in question was the Marcii Reges family, with reges being the plural form of rex, or “king.” Caesar skillfully deflected the comment, by responding “my name is Caesar, not King” or “No, I am Caesar, not King” (Suetonius, Twelve Caesars, Divus Julius: section 79). The persistent Tribunes, Marullus and Flavus, brought about their own downfall when they moved to prosecute anyone caught laying wreaths on statues or calling out regal titles. Caesar responded poorly to this move, and he ultimately had both of the Tribunes kicked out of the Senate.

Another incident occurred on February 15, during the Lupercalia, a festival that had some connection to the she-wolf (lupa) that, according to myth, raised Romulus and Remus. During the festivities, Mark Antony apparently attempted to crown Caesar multiple times with a wreath or diadem. After observing the crowd’s reaction, Julius Caesar eventually had the crown sent to a temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.

Even though Caesar never accepted a crown or ribbon in the stories mentioned above, the powerful senators in Rome could not shake the feeling that Caesar had an ambition for kingship. Their suspicion of the dictator was deepened even more by some of the changes Caesar had made in Rome since his ascension to power. Of the many titles and privileges that Caesar accepted, the most annoying to the senators were the statue he supposedly placed alongside the sculptures of ancient Roman kings, and especially two alleged golden thrones that Caesar had made for himself to sit upon in the Senate House and the tribunal. With actions like this, it is easy to see why so many senators feared the future plans of Julius Caesar and joined the conspiracy to end his life.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Statue of Julius Caesar [Public Domain] via Skitterphoto and pexels.com).

Sources:

  • The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.
  • Julius Caesar by Philip Freeman. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2008.

Snorri Sturluson

By
thehistorianshut
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Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241)

“Bitter words could only
Rouse the rage of others.
Men who always quarrel
Have no wish for treaties.”

  • From an anonymous poem in chapter 71 of King Harald’s Saga by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Magnus Magnusson and Hermann Pálsson (Penguin Classics, 1966, 2005).
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