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The Wrathful Tale Of Amestris, Wife Of The Persian King Xerxes

By
thehistorianshut
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Although Xerxes I (r. 486-465 BCE) is mainly remembered for his massive invasion of Greece, his reign continued for around fourteen more years after his Greek ambitions were crushed at the Battle of Plataea in 479 BCE. This later period of his life, after Xerxes withdrew from Greece and returned to the heartland of his empire, remains a fairly undefined part of the king’s reign. What we do know about Xerxes’ final years is that he began to focus a great deal of his empire’s resources on construction projects. Nevertheless, he eventually started to lose the support of several key governing satraps and advisors, ultimately leading to a violent end for the king.

Herodotus, one of the main sources on Xerxes’ life, lightly glossed over a few of the events that supposedly occurred in the Achaemenid Empire during the years after the Persian King of Kings returned home from Greece. By far, the most dramatic of these episodes (located in The Histories, Book IX) was a story about how one of Xerxes’ affairs led to the extermination of nearly all of his brother’s family. This story, which will be told shortly, is considered to be largely a fiction created by the father of history, Herodotus (490-425/420 BCE). Yet, many historians believe the core elements of the story were likely based on factual events.

Iran

(Possible Xerxes I of Persia, from Hadish Palace at Persepolis. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

According to the tale, Xerxes fell hopelessly in love, or at least in lust, with an unnamed woman in the city of Sardis. The king, mind you, was at this point already a wedded man married to a woman named Amestris. Nevertheless, he sent this new woman in Sardis numerous messages and propositions of his admiration and desire, all of which she politely declined. Frustrated, the king pondered over all the ways he could use his power to compel the woman to consent to his wants, but he quickly pushed those dangerous thoughts out of his mind. After all, the woman he desired was none other than the wife of his dear brother, Masistes.

Xerxes finally decided that Masistes’ wife only needed more time and close proximity before she caved in to his desires. Therefore, Xerxes arranged for his son, Darius, to be married to Masistes’ daughter, Artaÿnte, hoping that the union would allow him to grow closer to his brother’s wife. In the end, Masistes agreed to the marriage, so Xerxes brought Artaÿnte to the city of Susa, where his son, Darius, was living.

Unfortunately, Xerxes’ love for Masistes’ wife was apparently a fickle emotion. Soon after he reached Susa, Xerxes found that he was drawn to Artaÿnte far more than he had ever been with her mother. Once again, Xerxes began to send messages of his affection to the woman he desired, who, this time, happened to be the newly-wedded wife of his own son. Artaÿnte, unlike her mother, decided to accept the king’s affection.

Like many lovers, Xerxes eventually wanted to express his appreciation for Artaÿnte by giving her a gift. And, as a king, he could afford extraordinarily pricey gifts. In fact, he went to see Artaÿnte and promised that he would obtain for her anything that she desired. When she asked if he was telling the truth, the king assented, declaring she could have treasures, a city, even a personal army. She only needed to ask for it. As Artaÿnte pondered the possibilities, her eyes fell on the illustrious robe that Xerxes was wearing. It was a beautifully woven piece, sporting all sorts of pleasing colors derived from expensive dyes. In the end she proclaimed that the gift she wanted was Xerxes’ robe. The king, startled by her decision, tried to steer her back to his other grand offers—unlimited gold and sprawling estates, he suggested, would be much better than a robe. Nevertheless, Artaÿnte’s mind was made up and Xerxes had promised to give her what she desired.

When Xerxes left his lover, leaving behind his robe, he must have felt that his affair was doomed. The robe that he had just given away was not just any piece of clothing. No, it was a hand-sewn gift made personally for the king by his wife, Amestris. It was an especially precious gift, for noble Achaemenid women rarely, if ever, personally worked cloth. With a growing sense of horror, the king knew the robe would be easily recognized in the city and word would inevitably trickle back to Amestris about her husband’s infidelity. As it turned out, Xerxes’ fears were well founded, for his wife did indeed learn about the affair. Yet, she was in no hurry as she cautiously plotted her revenge and waited for the opportune moment to strike. Interestingly, Amestris did not hold Artaÿnte solely responsible for the affair. Instead she apparently believed her daughter-in-law’s action derived from a lack of proper upbringing. Therefore, Amestris directed her wrath against Artaÿnte’s mother, the earlier mentioned wife of Masistes.

Young woman spinning and servant holding a fan. Fragment of a relief known as "The spinner". Bitumen mastic, Neo-Elamite period (8th century B.C.–middle of the 6th century B.C.). Found in Susa. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons.jpg

(Young woman spinning and servant holding a fan. Fragment of a relief known as “The spinner”. Bitumen mastic, Neo-Elamite period (8th century B.C.–middle of the 6th century B.C.). Found in Susa. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons.)

Xerxes was unaware of his wife’s plot all the way up until the day of his next birthday. Amestris had kept her knowledge of the affair hidden from him for a very specific purpose. At the Royal Supper on the king’s birthday, there was supposedly a tradition where the king gave away gifts to his subjects. Therefore, Amestris requested a very specific present on that day—the right to do whatever she wished with the wife of Masistes. Xerxes was caught off guard by his wife’s request, and, just as happened with Artaÿnte, he found he could not refuse.

After Amestris’ wish was granted, Xerxes immediately arranged a meeting with Masistes and tried to warn him of the impending danger. Yet, the king delivered this warning in a way that you might not have expected. When Masistes arrived, curious about what his brother Xerxes wanted to talk about, the king frantically tried to convince Masistes to abandon his wife. Xerxes even offered him one of his daughters as incentive. Masistes balked at the idea, and after a coarse exchange of words, stormed off to return to his wife. Little did he know that Amestris would get to her first.

As Herodotus told it, while Xerxes and Masistes were arguing, Amestris had called together a select group of soldiers from the king’s personal guard. With the king’s authority behind her words, Amestris ordered the soldiers to hunt down Masistes’ wife and carry out a number of gruesome acts. Herodotus wrote, “Amestris sent for the soldiers of the royal bodyguard and had Masistes’ wife horribly mutilated. Her breasts, nose, ears, and lips were cut off and thrown to the dogs; then her tongue was torn out and, in this dreadful condition, she was sent home” (The Histories, 9.112). When Masistes returned to his dwelling, he found his wife in the aforementioned state—mutilated, but miraculously still alive (at least for the moment). When he finally recovered from his shock, Masistes immediately gathered his sons and set out for Bactria, where he was the governing satrap, in hopes of launching a rebellion.

While Xerxes likely sympathized with his brother’s motivation, the rebellion was a different matter. When the king learned that Masistes had silently left the city, he sent an army in pursuit. The wronged fugitives never made it back to the safety of their domain. Instead, they were intercepted on the road by Xerxes’ troops and Masistes, his sons and any guards that happened to be present were all mercilessly executed. So ends the tale of how Xerxes’ lusts supposedly led to the destruction of his brother’s family, except for Artaÿnte and any other unknown children.

Again, it should be mentioned that most of the dramatic story narrated above was probably a creation of Herodotus’ own imagination. Yet, as with a great deal of folklore and mythology, it would not be surprising if there was a grain of historical truth underneath all of the literary embellishment.

Whether or not the above tale was true, Xerxes’ own fate would turn deadly in 465 BCE. Around that year, a faction led by Artabanus, one of Xerxes’ main lieutenants, organized the assassinations of both the king and his son, Darius. Months later, Artaxerxes I (a son of Xerxes and brother of Darius) killed Artabanus and became the next King of Kings of the Achaemenid Empire.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top Picture attribution: (Cropped young woman spinning and a servant holding a fan from a fragment of a relief known as “The spinner”. Bitumen mastic, Neo-Elamite period (roughly 8th – 6th century BCE). Found in Susa. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Thomas à Kempis

By
thehistorianshut
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Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471)

“Happy and wise is he who endeavors to be during his life as he wishes to be found at his death.”

  • From The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis translated by L. Sherley-Price (Penguin, 1972).

Holy Roman Emperor Vs. Holy Roman Father—Henry IV Against The Popes

By
thehistorianshut
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Henry IV (c. 1050-1106), an emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, lived quite an extraordinarily chaotic life in the Middle Ages. Although he was ruler the Holy Roman Empire for most of his reign, he had a dismal relationship with the spiritual leaders of Catholic Christendom, the popes. Even so, the Christian religion played an extremely prominent role in Henry’s life.

Henry IV became the ruler of the Germany-centered Holy Roman Empire in 1056, upon the death of his father, Henry III. As the child-emperor was too young to rule, his mother, Empress Agnes, served as the regent ruler, with helpful aid and advice from Pope Victor II. Unfortunately, the helpful pope only lived until 1057, and after his death, the empress had no luck acquiring competent and loyal advisors. For the next few years, Empress Agnes allowed the regional rulers of the empire to dramatically strengthen themselves against the crown. It would have been an odd childhood experience for Henry IV—the young ruler was even kidnapped in 1062 by the archbishop of Cologne, a man named Anno, who consequently replaced Empress Agnes as regent. The empress was not injured in the change of power, but she did retire to a convent soon after the event.

When Henry IV became old enough to rule by himself in 1065, he shed himself of the regents and other influencers, but found himself in charge of an unstable realm. Nevertheless, he quickly asserted his rule and soon the relationship between the monarch and his vassals began to strain. He announced that he wanted to divorce his wife of three years and also launched building projects at the expense of his vassals in the Harz Mountains. Unfortunately, the emperor’s desire for a divorce caused outrage among the religious circles, and his construction projects in the Harz Mountains set the region of Saxony on a course toward rebellion.

Henry IV was eventually talked out of pursuing divorce, but the threat of a Saxon uprising persisted. Despite, or possibly because of, the arrest of Duke Magnus of Saxony, the Saxons rebelled in 1073, beginning the first of many military challenges to the rule of Henry IV. The rebels were initially successful. In 1074, they had Henry IV momentarily ready to concede to their demands, but he was able to come back and crush the rebellion in 1075.

While Henry IV was dealing with the Saxons, he was also negotiating with Pope Gregory VII over who should become archbishop of Milan. The Pope and the emperor had separate nominees for the position. While Henry IV had been preoccupied with the Saxon rebellion, he had seemed willing to follow the Pope’s lead on the nomination. After the rebellion was defeated, however, Henry IV defied the Pope’s wishes and named a chaplain from the German court as the archbishop of Milan.

The fiasco over the archbishop of Milan caused an ongoing feud between Henry IV and Pope Gregory VII. In response to Henry’s decision in Milan, the Pope excommunicated the emperor from the Catholic Church in 1076 and revoked Henry’s divine right to rule, basically giving the regional nobility of the Holy Roman Empire a religious reason to rebel against their king.

The pope’s ploy worked—regions of the empire became so hostile to Henry IV that he was forced to sneak through the Alps to meet with Pope Gregory VII at Canossa, within the realm of Mathilda of Tuscany. There, in 1077, Henry IV put on a grand display of humble penitence for Pope Gregory VII, reportedly even including the wearing of sackcloth clothing. Whatever happened at Canossa, it was convincing enough that Pope Gregory readmitted Henry IV to the Catholic Church and restored his divine right to rule.

With the pope’s forgiveness, Henry IV won back the support of many of his countrymen. Even so, plots were already in motion and factions began to coalesce behind their own claimants to the throne. The most important of these rebels was Rudolf, the Duke of Swabia, who fought against Henry IV for around three years. Pope Gregory VII eventually decided to give official support to Rudolf in 1080, when he once again excommunicated Henry IV and voided his right to rule. Unfortunately for Pope Gregory VII, he backed the wrong faction—Rudolf died in battle before the end of the year.

Henry IV did not forgive the papacy for its meddling. He convened his own religious synod, where he denounced Pope Gregory VII and set up a man named Guibert, the archbishop of Ravenna, as a rival pope. Once Henry IV had contained the rebellions in his own empire, he turned his forces against Rome, where he sieged the city unsuccessfully in 1081 and 1082, but finally forced his way into the city in 1084. In Rome, Henry’s anti-pope, Guibert, took the name Clement III and attempted to replace the exiled Pope Gregory VII as the head of the Catholic Church. Henry also took advantage of the occasion to officially receive the lofty title of Holy Roman Emperor, which had until then been withheld from him by the pope.

Even though the anti-pope, Clement III, was residing in Rome, the legitimate line of popes was still maneuvering behind the scenes to undermine Henry IV. Pope Urban II (r. 1088-1099) incited and supported leagues and rebellions against Henry IV, managing to even turn the emperor’s sons (Conrad and Henry V) against their father.

Understandably, Henry IV tried to calm relations, both with his vassals and the Catholic Church. He tried to enforce peace between feuding lords and hoped to gain a pardon from the Church in exchange for going on crusade. His son, however, decided it was time to break away from his controversial father—Henry V rebelled in 1104 and successfully forced his father to abdicate in 1105. Nevertheless, the stubborn Henry IV somehow escaped, raised an army and defeated his son in battle, shortly before dying suddenly in 1106.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top picture: (Emperor Henry IV (by John Foxe, c. 1563) and Pope Gregory VII (printed 1891), both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Sima Qian

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE)

“No one knows why order comes about – such is the ordering of a true sage.”

  • From The Basic Annals of Qin in the Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji 5) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

 

The Scythians Of Herodotus Versus The Scythians Discovered By Archaeologists

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

Much of what we know about the Scythians comes from Herodotus, the 5th-century BCE father of history from Halicarnassus. In book four of The Histories, Herodotus described what he had found out about the origin story of the Scythian people, their military exploits and what he perceived to be their daily lifestyle.

The framework of Herodotus’ history of the Scythians is fairly accurate. He wrote that the Scythians were a fierce nomadic tribe that specialized in horsemanship and archery. As warriors, they were powerful enough to strike fear into the hearts of both the Greeks and the Persians. They even successfully repelled a massive invasion led by the Persian King Darius I in the late 6th-century, years before the Persians decided to launch their ill-fated campaigns against Greece.

On the other hand, Herodotus wrote about more (fair warning) rather graphic and disturbing accounts, where truth became increasingly merged with folklore. Among other statements, Herodotus claimed that the Scythians held annual sacrifices to their gods, where horses, cattle and prisoners of war were ceremoniously slaughtered. During this ritual, Herodotus claimed that the Scythians cut off the right arms of the human sacrifices and sometimes drank the blood of their victims.

The ancient historian elaborated on the subject of what the Scythians did to their fallen enemies—he claimed that they severed the heads of their foes for the purpose of using them as tokens to determine the size of their share in war loot. According to Herodotus, the Scythians did not let these heads go to waste. The historian matter-of-factly claimed that the Scythians transformed the scalps into handkerchiefs, and after accumulating a number of these macabre trophies, they would be sewn into forms of clothing. Herodotus went on to say that skulls of the slain were particularly important. He claimed that the Scythians made grisly chalices or bowls from the skullcaps, covered with hide on the outside and sometimes gilded on the interior.

While Herodotus’s account is a fascinating read, archaeologists have found little evidence to back up his claims. For example, at least 5,700 golden artifacts were uncovered in a Scythian burial mound (called a kurgan) excavated in Tuva, Siberia, yet not a single skull chalice was found among the horde of treasure. Similarly, furs and the fragments of cloth garments were discovered in the mound, but no evidence of clothing made from human skin was found. Even so, some of Herodotus’ other claims are plausible. The killing of prisoners and the keeping of unsettling war trophies was, unfortunately, a fairly common practice in many areas of the ancient world. As for sacrifices, archaeologists did indeed find horses, servants and concubines who were killed and buried along with fallen Scythian kings in their burial grounds, but this tragic practice, too, was not uncommon in other areas of the world.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture attribution: (Decoration from the top of a Scythian comb. Found in the Soloha kurgan. Now resides in the Hermitage museum, St. Petersburg, Russia, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Egil Skallagrimsson

By
thehistorianshut
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Egil Skallagrimsson (10th-century semi-legendary Viking-poet)

“Let us make our drawn swords glitter,
you who stain wolf’s teeth with blood;
now that the fish of the valleys thrive,
let us perform brave deeds.”

  • Egil’s Saga (section 47), recorded c. 13th century possibly by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Bernard Scudder. New York: Penguin Classics, 2004 edition.

Destruction And Censorship Of Education In the Qin Dynasty

By
thehistorianshut
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Over hundreds of years, the Chinese state of Qin grew more and more powerful under the loose, feudal and relatively weak rule of the Zhou Dynasty (c. 1046-256 BCE). As the Zhou decreased in power, and the states they lorded over increased in strength, the Warring States Period began, lasting from 426-221 BCE. It was a period during which the numerous kingdoms in China fought for supremacy. The Qin, under King Yeng Zheng, emerged victorious with the help of no-nonsense laws and merciless warfare. By 221 BCE, Yeng Zheng had risen to become the undisputed ruler of China. He then took the name Shihuangdi (Qin Shi Huang Di, “first emperor of Qin”) and founded the Qin Dynasty, the first true authoritarian empire in China.

The extreme legalist policies of the Qin Dynasty had some dramatic effects on China. Legalism in Shihuangdi’s empire elevated the rule of law above other sources of morality and ethics, including religion and Confucian philosophy. This coincided with the attempted censorship and possible eradication of any knowledge and education that did not align with the will of the Qin Dynasty.

In 213 BCE, Shihuangdi began the Burning of the Books, which saw to the destruction (or at least banning) of literature, history and records, often targeting works that referenced any state or dynasty other than the Qin. The burning was thorough enough to give the Han Dynasty historian, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), a tough time gathering information on the Warring States Period. In the end, he had to rely heavily upon a highly fictionalized text that survived the Qin Dynasty, known as the Zhanguo ce, or The Intrigues of the Warring States Period. The Intrigues severely dramatized the lives of protagonists from the Warring States Period, but at least it preserved many of the important names that may have been otherwise lost. By 212 BCE, the censorship policies had become so drastic that numerous scholars were allegedly executed.

Thankfully, the Qin Dynasty was short-lived. The extreme legalism proved to be excellent for winning an empire during a time of perpetual war, yet it was much less effective at keeping the empire stable and happy after the war was won. When Shihuangdi died in 210 BCE, his dynasty began to immediately collapse. In the following years, Shihuangdi’s heir and advisors were defeated and replaced by the Han Dynasty, which used many of the policies utilized by the Qin, but watered them down for the longevity of their rule.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture attribution: (18th century depiction of the Qin Dynasty Burning of the Books, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

A 9th-Century Abbot In Anglo-Saxon England Fought Off Assassins With His Bare Hands

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

King Alfred the Great (King of Wessex, r. 871-899) is known to have constructed at least two monastic compounds during his reign. Alfred’s earliest biographer, a Welsh monk named Asser from the king’s court, wrote about these religious institutions in his unfinished work, the Life of King Alfred, which he began around 893. One of the monastic compounds was a convent at Shaftesbury, where King Alfred arranged for his own daughter, Æthelgifu, to become one of its first abbesses. The other compound was the monastery at Athelney, constructed at an unknown time after 878.

When Asser wrote about the monastery’s founding in his book, he soon digressed into an interesting story. At first, he began by describing the diverse, multicultural atmosphere of the monastery at Athelney. Monks from Germany (or Old Saxony, as Asser described it), France (Gaul) and Scandinavia were known to reside there. The man who led this colorful group of monks was known simply as John—a Germanic scholar that King Alfred personally imported from mainland Europe. John was one of several learned men that King Alfred hired in the 880s to improve education in Wessex (the king, himself, was one of his first students) and to assist in translating important texts into Old English. John is known to have assisted King Alfred in translating the Regula Pastoralis (Pastoral Care), written by Pope Gregory I. In the preface to the translation, King Alfred gave written thanks and acknowledgment to John for his help in completing the project.

As it happened, Abbot John had quite a dramatic experience during his stay at Athelney. According to Asser, two men within the monastery, one a priest and the other a deacon, somehow grew to loathe the abbot. Eventually, their loathing developed into conspiracy to commit murder. The two clergymen eventually recruited two slaves into their conspiracy, tasking them with the actual dirty work.

Asser recorded the plan of these would-be killers in great detail. The conspirators knew that John was a man that liked his privacy—he often went into the sanctuary at night, after all of the other monks went to sleep, in order to pray in peace and quiet. The conspirators decided that John’s nightly prayers would be the perfect time and place to strike. Therefore, the nefarious clergymen instructed the two slaves to hide in the sanctuary and wait for Abbot John to wander in for his private worship. Once he lost himself in prayer and meditation, the assassins were to quickly kill him and then carefully transport the body to the home of a nearby prostitute. With the remains left in that environment, the conspirators hoped the murder would be pinned on the woman or on other people of ill repute living in that location.

With their plan set, the two assassins crept into the church and waited for sundown. As they had hoped, after the monks of the monastery had filed off for bed, Abbot John did indeed tip toe into the sanctuary for a late night prayer. The assassins waited as John reverently stepped up to the alter and knelt down to pray. When the slaves thought that John was thoroughly distracted, they drew their swords and sprung their ambush.

Abbot John, however, was not the average monk. Asser, one of the abbot’s contemporaries, believed that John had a great deal of military experience in his background before he had been called to religion. Whatever the case, John apparently heard the assassins approaching. His mind effortlessly snapped back from his meditations and he quickly turned to meet his assailants. Instead of being frozen by shock, or cowering in fear, the trained and seasoned abbot apparently let out a loud shout and charged the armed assassins. His mind must have still been somewhat on his interrupted prayers, because he was reported to have yelled that devils were attacking him. The abbot’s shouting woke up the nearby monks of the monastery, but John’s word choice of “devils” apparently made many of them apprehensive of rushing into the sanctuary to aid their leader. Nevertheless, the unarmed Abbot John (helped by his military training) was able to fight off the assault of the two assassins until the rest of the monks worked up the nerve to fight alongside their abbot against the supposed demons. When the assassin’s realized that the monastery was bustling with activity, they fled from the compound and hid in the nearby marshlands. Abbot John had managed to stay alive, but he had nevertheless sustained significant injuries.

The monks (including the deacon and priest who had instigated the plot) carried the wounded man out of the church and saw to his recovery. The slaves who had fled to the marsh were eventually captured, and the role of the two clergymen in the conspiracy also was, in due time, unearthed. In the end, John survived the attack, but all four conspirators were executed after (or by) long sessions of painful torture.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribute: (Image of St Benedict from France, Monastery of St. Gilles, Nimes, 1129, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

  • Asser’s Life of King Alfred and Alfred’s translation of Pastoral Care, translated by Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge in their anthology, Alfred the Great: Asser’s Life of King Alfred and Other Contemporary Sources. New York: Penguin Classics, 2004.

Aristotle

By
thehistorianshut
-

 

Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE)

“It is easy to get angry – anyone can do that – or to give and spend money; but to feel or act towards the right person to the right extent at the right time for the right reason in the right way – that is not easy, and it is not everyone that can do it.”

  • From The Nicomachean Ethics (Bekker number 1109a) by Aristotle, translated by J. A. K. Thomson (Penguin Classics, 2004).

 

The Crazy Life Of The Roman Princess Galla Placidia

By
thehistorianshut
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Galla Placidia and her eventful life perfectly showcased the hectic state of affairs that the Western Roman Empire found itself enduring (and eventually collapsing from) during the 5th century. She was a daughter of Emperor Theodosius I (r. 379-395) and Empress Galla. Upon Theodosius’ death, two of Galla Placidia’s brothers were crowned as emperors, one to rule the East and another to control the West. Galla Placidia, herself, was left to the care of the powerful general Stilicho (or more specifically, his wife, Serena), under whose direction she learned Latin and Greek, as well as other subjects that women of the time were expected to be know, such as sewing and weaving.

The young princess stayed in the Western Empire during the reign of her brother, Emperor Honorius (r. 393-423), mostly residing in the city of Rome. Yet times were not easy—for various reasons (but mostly because of pressure from the Huns) a large coalition of peoples, including the Vandals, Suevi and Alans, crossed the Rhine into Roman Gaul in 406, throwing the empire into chaos. A former Roman mercenary named Alaric brought the havoc straight to the heart of the Western Empire. After becoming king of the Visigoths, Alaric eventually led his people to besiege Rome. He arrived at the city walls first in 408, but was paid off by the Roman Senate. He attacked again in 409, but was once more convinced to withdraw from the city. Finally, in 410, King Alaric and the Visigoths besieged Rome for one last time, with no intention of withdrawing from the city. Instead, they looted the city for three days, stealing wealth and harassing the locals, but keeping most of the city remarkably intact. Around this time, or perhaps during the earlier sieges, the Visigoths captured Galla Placidia. King Alaric hoped he could use the princess as leverage in his negotiations with Emperor Honorius. Alaric, however, had miscalculated—Honorius and Galla Placidia were not friendly siblings.

Instead, when King Alaric died of an illness later in 410, Galla Placidia was still being hauled around by the Visigoths as an unusable bargaining chip. Alaric’s successor, Ataulf (also spelled Athaulf), realigned the Visigoths as an ally of Rome and moved his people to Gaul and Spain to help defend the empire against the Vandals, Suevi and Alans, as well as to gain land for his own people in that region. Ataulf evidently took an interest in his captive, Galla Placidia (or at least her potential power as royalty), and married her around 414. Yet, the princess’ time as Queen of the Visigoths was short lived—Ataulf was assassinated in 415 and her only son with the Visigoth king died in infancy.

By 416, the Visigoths had shipped Galla Placidia back to her estranged brother, Emperor Honorius. He quickly married her off, in 417, to one of his generals by the name of Constantius. Many historians doubt that Galla Placidia approved of the hasty union, but nevertheless, she and Constantius had at least two children—a daughter named Justa Greta Honoria and a son who would later become Emperor Valentinian III (r. 425-455).

Galla Placidia’s marriage to Constantius brought her to a position of power. Her husband was named a co-emperor alongside (or more likely underneath) Honorius in 421, elevating Galla Placidia to the rank of empress. Emperor Constantius III, however, died before the year’s end. Even though Honorius favored Constantius enough to name him a co-emperor, he still had a feud with his sister, the empress. As such, following Constantius’ death in 221, Galla Placidia fled from her brother to the Eastern Roman Empire and took refuge in Constantinople with her nephew and Eastern Roman Emperor, Theodosius II (r. 402-450).

Galla Placidia waited in the safety of Constantinople until Emperor Honorius died in 423. Before she could install Valentinian on the throne, an opportunist named Johannes (or John) seized Rome for about two years. By 425, however, Galla Placidia and her allies succeeded in ousting Johannes and naming Valentinian III as the rightful emperor. The newly enthroned emperor, however, was too young to rule on his own, so Galla Placidia stepped in as regent ruler of the Western Empire. She ruled for around twelve years, until 437, spending most of that time dealing with ambitious generals and governors. The most notable of these were Count Boniface, Felix and Flavius Aetius. The latter of which was the man who won the most influence with the empress and her son.

Empress Galla Placidia died in 450 after living a dramatic life that alternated between waves of powerlessness and strength. Her son, Emperor Valentinian III, would only survive her by five years. The formerly mentioned Flavius Aetius remained the emperor’s right-hand-man until 454, when the emperor personally strangled the man on suspicions of treason. Unfortunately for the emperor, Aetius had a loyal following. Two comrades of Aetius (named Optila and Thraustila) hunted down the emperor in 455 and killed the young ruler.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture attribution: (Supposed miniature of Galla Placidia on top of a destroyed city painted by Thomas Cole (1801–1848), both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

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