The Life of Charlemagne

There are two "Lives" of Charlemagne, one by Einhard who was a member of the Carolingian court for decades, and one by a "Monk of St. Gall." The Monk writes that he was given the idea for the biography when Emperor Charles III visited St. Gall for three days; this can be dated to 883, meaning the Monk was writing 70 years after its subjects death, and 60 years after Einhard's eyewitness account.

Einhard's Vita Karoli Magni ("Life of Charles the Great") is not just a list of wars fought and won—and there were many—but offers insight to the habits and interests of its subject, and in so doing gives a glimpse of daily life in the Frankish court.

One thing we learn is of the close relationship Charlemagne had with the scholars with whom he surrounded himself: they had nicknames for each other. Charles himself was called (King) David, while Einhard's skill at managing building projects and his knowledge of Scripture saw him named Bezaleel, from a character in the Bible

...filled with the spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass, and in cutting of stones, and in carving of timber. [Exodus, xxxi]

Einhard, writing after Charles' death, forsakes the idea of making up tales of his subject's youth, claiming that no one was currently alive who could tell him anything about the king's life before his time as king. As much as Einhard writes because of his admitted great admiration for Charles, he refuses to do what so many medieval biographers would do: embellish his subject's early life with tales of his prowess, etc.

Of the 47 years' worth of wars discussed, the penultimate with the Huns stands out because of the near-total victory by Charlemagne, after which the spoils of war changed the Franks from "a poor people" to a land with so many riches that their coinage was devalued and commodity prices rose.

Of Charlemagne's personal life, we learn of his wives and concubines and their respective children (Einhard even admits that one name escapes him; the honesty of his account in places is refreshing). We learn that he quarreled with his mother Bertrada only once (when he divorced his first wife whom he had married on Bertrada's advice), and that he treated his sister with the same reverence he treated his mother.

As soon as his sons were old enough, he had them taught to ride and hunt and use weapons. His daughters were taught the arts of the spindle and distaff and to avoid idleness; all his children were taught the liberal arts, and to adopt high principles. When he was at court, dinners were always with the family. His attachment to his children was strong, and he openly wept when two sons and a daughter pre-deceased him. He also wept for the death of Pope Adrian I, whom he considered a great friend.

His sons and daughters also traveled with him, the sons riding up front and the daughters in the rear, guarded. One failing in Charles as a king was the fact that his daughters would have made him some powerful alliances through carefully chosen marriages, yet he never allowed them to be married, keeping them always with him. He had betrothed his eldest, Hruotrud, to Emperor Constantine VI, but it was broken off, possibly because of religious differences, or the distance she would have been from her father?

Despite the affection he showed for his family, he was a king and emperor who had to be harsh at times. Some of those times will be explored tomorrow.

Einhard

Charlemagne, as has been mentioned many times over the years, brought many educated people to his court (Alcuin, for example), promoting learning and art to the point where there was a Carolingian Renascence long before the Renaissance of common knowledge. One of those scholars and historians was the Frankish Eginhard, in Latin called Einhardus; we simply call him Einhard.

Born about 775, when Charlemagne was already king of the Franks and the Lombards, Einhard was sent to be educated at Fulda. He was physically small, and so focused on scholarship and Latin rather than fencing and riding. (His Latin style is considered superior to that of most writers of the time.) Around 791-2 he was accepted to Charlemagne's court and was made "Clerk of the Works" for several construction projects.

His wife was named Emma; legend says she was a daughter of Charlemagne, and that the two eloped but were forgiven by her father. The woodcut above shows the diminutive Einhard being carried by Emma as they flee Court. There is no evidence to support this story, but folklore liked the idea. The Count of Erbach in 1810 claimed descent from Charlemagne through Einhard and Emma.

He was never given a title or a permanent position until after Charlemagne's death, when Louis the Pious made Einhard his private secretary. Einhard spent about 40 years serving the father and son kings, retiring in 830. Before he retired, however, he made use of the Royal Frankish Annals to compose the Vita Karoli Magni ("Life of Charlemagne"), the most thorough—and, of course, biased—contemporary biography we have for Charlemagne. He died in 840.

Einhard was responsible for other works: On the Adoration of the Cross, On the Translations and the Miracles of SS. Marcellinus and Petrus, and a collection of letters. But the biography of Charlemagne is worth taking a closer look, next time we meet.

Long Hair and Kingship

Gregory of Tours mentions, regarding an event in which the body of King Clovis I was exhumed, "Though I did not know who he was, I recognised from the length of the hair that it was Clovis." Elsewhere he refers to theFranks as reges criniti, the "long-haired kings." The post just prior to this tells of a choice offered to a queen to have princes shorn or killed; she chooses killed rather than the shame of princes who are shorn of their locks and therefore denied the chance to some day rule. Gregory tells another anecdote of King Clovis defeating a rival king who betrayed him, Chararic, cutting short the hair of him and his son and confining them in a monastery. When it was later reported to Clovis that the son had remarked to his father that they should grow their hair long again, Clovis had them killed.

Human cultures have developed many ways to indicate social cues, and hair length and style has certainly been one way to distinguish the upper from the lower echelons, but the Merovingians took it to an entirely new level.

We have every reason to believe that the Franks, like the Romans, kept their hair short, so the Merovingian line of royalty would have stood out from the common folk. It was not necessary that the hair had never been cut, just that it was long. Why this was so, we cannot say for certain. Some suggest it is simply a distinction between the Germanic military culture and the Roman religious culture of the various peoples that the Merovingians conquered, but that is too simplistic to be accurate.

When the Merovingian kings began to become lazy, their "Mayors of the Palace" managed their affairs, effectively running the kingdom. The last Merovingian king was Childeric III, whose Mayor of the Palace was Charles Martel, the "Hammer." According to Charlemagne's biographer Einhard, Charles allowed Childeric "to sit on his throne, content with the name of king only, with his long hair and flowing beard, and give the appearance of sovereignty." Eventually, Martel's son, Pepin the Short, took the throne with the backing of Pope Zachary. He had Childeric tonsured and sent with his also-shorn son Theuderic to separate monasteries.

You may recall in the post on Childebert how his brother Chlodomer was killed in battle against Burgundy. A Byzantine historian, Agathias, writes a contemporary account of the battle, giving us a little more on the attitude toward hairstyles in different cultures:

And when he fell, the Burgundians, seeing his hair flowing and abundant, loose down to his back, at once realised that they had killed the enemy leader. For it is the rule for Frankish kings never to be shorn; instead, their hair is never cut from childhood on, and hangs down in abundance on their shoulders. Their front hair, is parted on the forehead and falls down on either side. Their hair is not uncombed and dry and dirty and braided up in a messy knot like that of the Turks and Avars; instead, they anoint it with unguents of different sorts, and carefully comb it. Now this it is their custom to set apart as a distinguishing mark and special prerogative for the royal house. For their subjects have their hair cut all round, and are not permitted to grow it further.

The few seals of Merovingian kings that we have show the long hair, parted in the middle. Hair styles among the common folk might have been varied, but notably long hair was reserved for, and crucial to, the Merovingian royalty.

Now for another of those names I feel I have neglected: Einhard is significant because of his life of Charlemagne, and I'll tell you more next time.

Saint Clotilde and Murder

Clotilde is considered a saint by both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches. She was an early supporter of St. Geneviève, she built the chapel that later became the Abbey at Chelles, and it was probably her influence that persuaded her husband, Clovis, to return the Vase of Soissons to St. Rémy after one of his soldiers took it post-conquest.

Most details of her life come from Gregory of Tours. She was born about 474 at Lyons, the daughter of King Chilperic II of Burgundy. Chilperic had two brothers, Gundobad and Godomar. At the death of their father, Gondioc, Gondioc's kingdom was divided among the three brothers. Gundobad turned on Godomar, and then on Chilperic, killing his brothers and their families, in order to reunite their father's kingdom under one ruler. Clotilde fled to her uncle, Godegisel.

Clovis and Godegisel joined in war against Gundobad, eventually defeating (but not killing) him; Clovis, King of the Franks, received an annual tribute from Burgundy after that. He also requested Clotilde's hand in marriage; Gundobad was not in a position to refuse.

Clovis I and Clotilde were married in 493. They had four sons (Ingomer, who died shortly after birth; Chlodomer, Childebert I, and ClotharI) and a daughter, Chrotilda. Clotilde insisted on baptism for her children; Clovis, not a Christian, objected, and when Ingomer died soon after birth and baptism, he criticized her. Yet, she persisted, and Chlodomer survived baptism, after which she had less opposition to raising the children in her faith.

Her greatest religious triumph may have been in 496 when Clovis was on the eve of battle with the Alemanni. He prayed to her God that he would be baptized if he were victorious. He prevailed in the Battle of Tolbiac and was baptized by Bishop Remigius of Reims on Christmas Day 496 (he is the St. Rémy in the link above). This Catholicism would aid him and his children in the future, ensuring the political support of the Roman Empire against many of the Franks' foes, who were Arian Christians.

When Clovis died in 523, Clotilde retired to the Abbey of St. Martin at Tours. She did not retire from public influence entirely, however. Even a saint is not immune to the desire for revenge, and the murderer of her father, her uncle Gundobad, was still ruling Burgundy. It is believed that her three sons' attack (and decade-long war) on Burgundy was instigated by her.

Also, her position as queen may have overruled the softer sensibilities one might expect from a mother and one who would later be considered a saint. During the war with Burgundy, her eldest son Chlodomer was killed. His part of the kingdom was to be divided among his three sons, further fracturing the kingdom of the Franks. Childebert and Clothar did not want this, and (the story goes), turned to Clotilde for... "advice." The two sent her two items: scissors and a sword. The implication was clear: the boys could be killed, or they could be shorn. (Long hair was a necessary mark of kingship for this particular culture, as mentioned here.) Supposedly, her reply was "It is better for me to see them dead rather than shorn, if they are not raised to the kingship." (Of course, we have no proof of this, but for these anecdotes to circulate about someone who was generally revered suggests there may be a kernel of truth.)

Clotilde died in 545 and was buried beside Clovis in the Church of the Holy Apostles (which is now the Abbey of St. Geneviève). Veneration of her made her the patron saint of queens, widows, brides, and those in exile.

Now, about that long hair think: how important was it? Let's talk about that tomorrow.

Childebert I

Childebert was the third of the four sons of Clovis I, who united all the Frankish tribes in Gaul for the first time, and then had it divided up again at his death (511 CE) among his sons. Childebert's brothers were Theuderic I, Chlodomer, and Clothar I. In the division, Childebert received Paris and everything to the north to the English Channel coast and west to Brittany and its coast.

The brothers joined in 523 to war against Godomar of Burgundy and his brother, Sigismund. (Clovis had defeated Godomar's father in 500, forcing Burgundy to pay tribute.) Godomar escaped the first encounter, but Chlodomer took Sigismund prisoner. Godomar rallied the Burgundians and regained his lost territory, but Chlodomer executed Sigismund. Fighting continued for a decade until 534 when Godomar was killed and Burgundy taken over.

Sadly for Chlodomer, he was killed in the final battle. Childebert and Clothar did not want his kingdom of Orléans to be divided among his three children, so they conspired to eliminate them. The eldest two were killed; the youngest escaped to a monastery. Childebert annexed Orléans and Chartres.

Future military campaigns gained him Geneva and Lyons. The king of the Ostrogoths ceded Provence to the Franks in 535; Childebert's share of the spoils were Arles and Marseilles.

He also invaded the Iberian Peninsula on behalf of his sister, Chrotilda. She had been married to King Amalaric of the Visigoths. (A purely political move: Amalaric's father Alaric II had been killed by Chrotilda's father, Clovis I. This marriage was supposed to cease national hostilities; it did nothing to assuage personal hostility.) She was Catholic; he pressured her to convert to the heretical Arianism. Gregory of Tours writes that he even beat her until she bled, and she sent a bloody towel to her brother.

Childebert attacked Amalaric, who fled but was assassinated. He brought his sister home, but she died along the way; he buried her in Paris next to their father. He also brought back the tunic of St. Vincent of Saragossa, patron of vintners, sailors, and brickmakers.

Childebert expanded his boundaries and built more religious structures than any of his brothers. He died on 13 December 558, leaving two daughters, who according to Salic Law could not inherit. His territory went to his younger brother Clothar I.

Here's a question: if Burgundy was already paying tribute to Gaul, was the war against Godomar necessary? Necessary, no; but motivated by a powerful force: a mother's wishes. I also left out a crucial and related detail regarding the disinheriting of Chlodomer's sons. I'll explain tomorrow.

Conomor the Cursed

There flourished around 540 CE a ruler in Britany called Conomor the Cursed, so notorious for his cruelty that some think he provided the seed of later legends of vicious characters.

He had no biography, but he is mentioned in some of the vitae ("lives") of Breton saints; he is mentioned several times by a contemporary, Gregory of Tours. From these saints' biographies we can glean that there was a king of Dumnonia—not the one in Cornwall, but the colony in northern Brittany established by folk from Cornwall fleeing the Saxon invasions—and prince of Poher named Conomor or Conomerus (Welsh Cynfawr, "big dog").

According to Gregory of Tours' Historia Francorum ("History of the Franks"), a Breton count named Chanao decided to eliminate his competition by killing his brothers. One of them, Macliau, escaped to Conomor, who "hid him in a box underground," explaining to Chanao that Macliau was dead. After Chanao died, Macliau was free to take over. This sounds admirable, and I offer it in the interests of "equal time." Other anecdotes are not so complimentary.

Conomor is said to have received his position by murdering his predecessor Jonas and marrying his widow, becoming regent to her son Judael. Conomor tried killing Judael, but Jonas' widow fled with Judael to the Frankish court of King Childebert I, who aided his vassal Conomor by incarcerating Judael. Fortunately, Samson of Dol, Gildas, and others persuaded Childebert to abandon Conomor and free Judael.

Conomor also married Tréphine, daughter of Count Waroch I of Vannes, but killed her and their son Trémeur. Tréphine is considered a saint, patron saint of sick children and those whose birth is overdue. The story of Tréphine and Trémeur is considered to be the origin of the legend of Bluebeard, the French folktale of a wealthy man who murders his wives.

After Childebert's death (13 December 558), his brother Clothar I becomes king. Clothar leads an expedition into Brittany to deal with Conomor's villainy. Judael accompanies him, and manages to kill Conomor in battle.

There is a possible link with the Tristan legend. King Mark sends his nephew (in some version his son), Tristan, to escort his new bride Iseult to him. Tristan and Iseult have a steamy affair, and Mark intends to execute Tristan, who escapes. A stone inscription in Cornwall refers to "Drustanus son of Cunomorus." A biography of a 6th century Welsh bishop, Paul Aurelian, refers to "King Marc whose other name is Quonomorus." The legend of a father or uncle being cruel to a son/nephew fits the profile of Conomor.

This is a good time to stay in this time period but turn eastward from Brittany to the land of the Franks and  the Merovingian Childebert I, whose father was first king of the Franks and whose mother was a saint. See you next time.

Samson of Dol

Unlike most of the early Celtic saints, we know much more detail about the life of Samson of Dol (c.486 - 565), thanks to a biography written only a few years after his death. His parents, Amon and Anna, had tried for years to have a child; when they finally had Samson, they considered him a special gift from God, and so at the age of five sent him to study at the famous monastery school under St. Illtud.

There he learned how to live an ascetic life, and was ordained by St. Bishop Dubricius, at which event a white dove descended onto his shoulder. Samson left the monastery when two nephews of Illtud who envied him tried to slander him; they fed him poison, which had no effect.

He started traveling. He founded a community in Cornwall, he went to the Scilly Isles where the island of Samson is named for him, then to Guernsey where he is the patron saint. In Brittany, he found the monastery of Dol.

While in Brittany, he became involved in local politics. There was a king, Conomor, who was serving as regent for a nephew whom he tried to have killed. Samson, along with Gildas and others, persuaded the local bishops to excommunicate Conomor. Samson also persuaded King of the Franks Childebert I to stop supporting Conomor's position as "protector of the English Channel."

We know the date when he was ordained, because it is recorded as taking place on the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter (22 February) at the beginning of Lent. For February 22 to be at the beginning of Lent (a "floating" holiday), it would have to take place in 521. Traditionally, one was ordained at the age of 35, which would mean he was born in 486. Samson attended a religious council in Paris which took place sometime between 556 and 573, at which time he would have been already quite old. His signature is on documents from it as "Samson, a sinner." The estimated date of his death is halfway between the estimates of the date of the Paris council. He was buried in the Cathedral of Dol.

But about this Conomor character: he is thought to be the historical foundation for the folk tale of Bluebeard, and of the wife-beating giant Cormoran, and Tristan's uncle. How bad could he be to inspire three vile characters of legend? We'll find out tomorrow.

St. Illtud

The location of Wales on the south-western part of the island of Great Britain protected it somewhat from the pagan Germanic invasions that took place after the departure of the Roman legions in 410 CE. They did, however, have to deal with Christian heresy, such as the British theologian Pelagius' (died 418) emphasis on human choice in salvation and his denial of original sin. Germanus of Auxerre traveled to Britain to combat Pelagianism. Not only was Germanus successful, but he became the mentor of one of the most prominent Welsh saints, Illtud.

The earliest mention of Illtud is in a life of St. Samson of Dol, written about 600. In it, we learn that he founded a monastery and college in Glamorgan, possibly the earliest college of its kind in Wales, in the 6th century. Its numerous pupils included Gildas, St. David, and St. Samson. He was one of the most accomplished of the disciples of Germanus, well-educated and well-versed in Scripture. There are traits, however, such as his supposed ability to foretell the future, that I would put down to later legend-making.

A later biography written about 1140 tells us much more that we should not take as fact, but we can accept that it is an indicator of his popularity. The Vita Sancti Iltuti ("Life of St. Illtud") can be found here, where you will see him called "Illtud the soldier" (in Welsh he is sometimes referred to as Illtud Farchog which means "Illtud the Knight"), son of a Breton prince and a cousin of King Arthur, whose court he visits so he can experience its magnificence.

Eventually an angel appears to him and urges him to serve the "King of Kings," so Illtud decides to forsake his wife and become a hermit. He later takes Holy Orders and becomes an abbot, experiences miracles, cures his wife of blindness through his prayers, sees his opponents suffer, and more. There is another Welsh legend that names Illtud, along with Cadoc and Peredur, as the triumvirate into whose keeping Arthur places the Holy Grail.

The 12th century's renewed fascination with the Arthur legend inspired writers to embrace any character perceived to have been contemporaneous with Arthur. It seems likely that Illtud might not have been remembered except for the existence of the life of Samson, a student at his school. We should probably ask why Samson of Dol was considered important, and we will ... tomorrow.

Gildas' Life, Certainly False

Something about the 6th century British monk Gildas inspired later writers to create elaborate biographies for him.

The first is referred to as the Rhuys Life, since it was written by an anonymous monk at the monastery on the Rhuys Peninsula in the 9th century. He claims Gildas was the son of Caunus, a king in Scotland, with four brothers. When their father dies, one brother comes king and the others become monks. Gildas goes to a monastery under St. Illtud. Gildas becomes ordained in Ireland then returns to northern Britain to preach. The High King of Ireland, Ainmericus (and there was a king Ainmuire Mac Sétnai in the 560s) asks him to restore Christianity to Ireland. After he "fixes" Ireland, he travels to Rome and Ravenna, slays a dragon, and performs miracles. He then settles on the island of Houat off the coast of Brittany as a hermit, during which time he preaches to a woman who is pregnant with St. David (mentioned here).

He later found the monastery at Rhuys and writes a rule book for monks, then later writes a book that criticizes five British kings. He dies on 29 January 570. At his request, the body is placed on a boat and set adrift, but on 11 May 571 the ship comes ashore at Rhuys with the body perfectly preserved, so they bury him at Rhuys. (The picture is a statue of Gildas at Rhuys.)

Gildas' life was greatly elaborated upon in the 12th century by a friend of Geoffrey of Monmouth, Caradoc of Lancarfan. In it, Gildas becomes one of 24 sons of King Nau of Scotia. This is in the time of Arthur, whom Gildas loved. His brother Hueil, however, frequently came down from Scotland to raid, and on one of these excursions he is killed by Arthur. Gildas travels to see Arthur and forgive him.

Gildas then retires to a secret island, but after pirates from the Orkneys carry off his goods and friends, he goes south to Glastonbury, ruled by Melwas, King of the Summer Country (Somerset). Here follows the first time the abduction of Guinevere is mentioned in literature. Melwas abducts her to Glastonbury and rapes her. When Arthur comes to Glastonbury to retrieve his queen, Gildas persuades the two kings to make peace.

There is a Welsh genealogical tract, Bonedd y Saint ("Descent of the Saints"), whose oldest manuscripts date from the 13th century, that credits Gildas with three sons and a daughter. Except for their names, however, we know nothing more about them.

Gildas' lived at the right time to be incorporated into the fascination with King Arthur. There is another link between Gildas' life and Arthur, actually, and that is through his first mentor, St. Illtud.  Who was St. Illtud, and what was his link to Arthur? I'll tell you tomorrow.

Gildas' Life, Probably True

The 6th century British monk St. Gildas, also known as Gildas the Wise, is known by different biographies with wildly different claims and details. There are a few things we can assume are largely true.

He was born in Scotland to a noble family, but forsook it to be educated (we think) at a monastery in Wales under St. Illtud. He became known as a teacher, traveling around Britain and Ireland while preaching and setting up churches and monasteries.

He eventually went to Brittany to become a hermit, but his reputation drew followers longing for instruction. He built a monastery for them on the Rhuys Peninsula. (Pictured above is a chapel to St. Gildas in France.) This s where he wrote his less-than-complimentary history

His De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae ("On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain") was a savage treatment in three parts of the people and rulers in the past and their sinful ways.

Part one explains recent British history, starting with the Roman conquest and leading up to his own time (He gives his birth year as the same in which the Battle of Mount Badon is fought, which is said by some to be 452CE; the Annales Cambriae give his death as 570; both these dates cannot be mutually trustworthy). Part two is a criticism of five kings, some of whom are clearly documented figures. Part three condemns the current state of the British clergy.

Part one gets the most attention from scholars of Arthurian literature. In it, he mentions Ambrosius Aurelianus as the figure who led the British against the invading Saxons and drove them out. This section also has the earliest reference to the Battle of Mount Badon (Mons Badonicus), the major engagement against the Saxons which decisively stopped their advance and occupation of Great Britain.

If "Arthur" fought at the Battle of Mount Badon, and Gildas was born that year, he would have been very young during much of the time that the "Arthur" figure flourished. For some reason, however—oral tradition?—later biographies of Gildas tie him more tightly to Arthurian Legend, adding some details to those legends for the first time. But that's a story for tomorrow.

Nennius the Historian

Nennius, the lowly minister and servant of the servants of God, by the grace of God, disciple of St. Elbotus, to all the followers of truth sendeth health

Thus begins the Historia Brittonum, "History of the Britons." The survival of about three dozen manuscripts tells how popular it was. 

Nennius was a Welsh monk and historian who flourished about 800. The "Elbotus" he mentions in his opening line refers to Bishop Elfodd of Bangor, who persuaded the Welsh Christian church to accept the Roman method for computing Easter.

The Historia is a compilation of other sources, some of which (such as Bede, and Gildas' De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae, "On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain") are obvious. Other sources are not clearly identified, but it is highly unlikely that Nennius was making things up. His goal would be to bring together several sources; some of them may be oral histories for which we don't have other evidence, including a-historical legends and folklore.

One example of non-provable detail is the legend that Britain was founded by Aeneas after leaving Troy. Another is Nennius' contribution to the Arthurian legends by listing his twelve battles, the geographical locations of which have challenged historians. He also calls Arthur dux bellorum, "duke/leader of battles" rather than a king.

The various manuscripts have many differences: having been made by hand, there are omissions in some of individual words or whole paragraphs, and the scant autobiographical material in it is not consistent. Nennius' authorship has been questioned, but since it is the only name associated with the majority of manuscripts, Nennius still gets the credit.

Speaking of giving credit to historians, I keep referring to Gildas without really telling you who he was or why he's considered important. He, too, added much to the legend of Arthur in his history, which we will turn to next time.

The Fall of Boudica

When the Romans in the 1st century CE reneged on their deal with King Prasutagus of the Iceni tribe, seizing property, beating his widow, and raping his daughters, the widow, Boudica, decided to take revenge.

The Iceni and the Trinovantes united to drive out the Roman occupiers, Boudica apparently at their head. They first attacked Camulodunum (Colchester), killing Romand and Roman sympathizers. The Ninth Legion was stationed in Londinium (London); hearing of the slaughter, they marched toward Camulodunum, but Boudica planned an ambush that destroyed 1500 Roman legionnaires. With Londinium undefended now, she led her British army there.

The Roman governor of Londinium had only 200 auxiliaries with him, and so fled the city with his men, leaving it open to the rebels, who killed the inhabitants and burned the town. According to Cassius Dio, the attackers:

hung up naked the noblest and most distinguished women and then cut off their breasts and sewed them to their mouths, in order to make the victims appear to be eating them; afterwards they impaled the women on sharp skewers run lengthwise through the entire body. All this they did to the accompaniment of sacrifices, banquets, and wanton behavior.

The 14th and 20th Legions were northwest, in Wales, and heading toward Londinium. Boudica headed to meet them, attacking the settlement at Verulamium (St. Albans). The Roman forces gathered to meet them numbered 10,000. Although the British outnumbered them, the Romans had tactical experience. The British were first "softened up" by a hail of javelins, and the superior Roman cavalry broke up the resistance. The attempt to drive out the Romans failed. We are told by Cassius Dio that Boudica fell sick and died. Tacitus says she took poison to avoid capture. Both could be true.

Bede and Nennius both refer to the uprising of 60/61, but don't mention Boudica. Gildas mentions a female ruler whom he calls a "treacherous lioness." The attitude of these writers mirrored that of the Roman writers at the time: they were amazed that the "barbarians" were willing to abandon the better quality of life provided by Roman culture for their previous less-civilized lifestyle.

And speaking of historians, this is the first mention of Nennius in almost 1100 blog posts, a shocking sign of neglect for a 9th century historian who made significant contributions to, among other things, the legend of King Arthur. Let's meet Nennius tomorrow.

Boudica

History doesn't usually commemorate the losers, but in some cases the figure involved has fought (and lost) so spectacularly that the events are not forgotten. Such is the case with Boudica.

In stature she was very tall, in appearance most terrifying, in the glance of her eye most fierce, and her voice was harsh; a great mass of the tawniest hair fell to her hips; around her neck was a large golden necklace; and she wore a tunic of divers colours over which a thick mantle was fastened with a brooch. This was her invariable attire.

This description was by Roman historian Cassius Dio, writing a century after her death. He called her Buduica, his Latin version of the Brittonic name by which she is known now, Boudica. (The second 'c' often found in her name was a typo added by Tacitus.) That was probably not her real name, however, given that Common Brittonic (the British Celtic language used by the inhabitants before Roman and Viking invasions started adding new words) includes the feminine boudīkā, "victorious." What we know her by was likely a title given to her, in which case we have no idea what her birth name was.

Boudica was a queen of the Iceni tribe, wife of Prasutagus. The statue shown here includes their two daughters. The Iceni inhabited the area now known as Norfolk in the 1st century CE. Under the Romans (Claudius' forces had conquered Britain in 43), Prasutagus was allowed to be king, so long as he named Caesar his co-heir along with Prasutagus' two daughters. Rome also achieved local support by making loans of money and real estate to influential Britons.

When Prasutagus died before 60 CE, his will was not honored. Romans claimed the kingdom, loans and real estate were confiscated, Boudica and her daughters were beaten and raped. Cassius Dio says that the philosopher Seneca had made loans to some Britons, and called them in.

The stage was set for an uprising of the Iceni against the Romans, and Boudica was ready for it. Their initial success was sufficient to prompt the current emperor, Nero, to consider abandoning Britain altogether. That became unnecessary as the war went on.

Details to come.

Women of Legend

The word for a Slavic epic hero is bogatyr. One of the best-known was patterned on Prince Vladimir's uncle, Dobrynya. His battle with a dragon to save a princess would have resulted in most other folklores in being married to the princess, but his bride came from a different story.

Slavic folklore included female bogatyr called polianitsa, who are known to be as brave and strong and skilled as the bogatyr, and who often rescue their husbands. Dobrynya "met" a polianitsa named Nastas'ya Nikulichna when he saw her riding her black horse across he plains. (Without explanation) he fired an arrow at her that struck the side of her helmet. The strike had no effect; the arrow bounced and fell to the ground. He fired another with the same result. A third arrow finally caused her to stop and look around.

She rode up to him, grabbed him off his saddle by his hair, stuffed him into her saddlebag, and continued her ride. After four days, her horse stumbled, complains to her that he was carrying too much weight. Nastas'ya then pulled Dobrynya out of her pouch, asked him who he was, and gave him her terms: if he were older than she, she would kill him; if he were younger, she would treat him like a brother; if they were the same age, she would marry him.

Dobrynya did not want to risk revealing anything, so he refused to talk. Her horse recognized him, however, and identified him as Dobrynya Nikitich who was her age. Nastas'ya said they should get married, and they rode to Kyiv to make it happen. Prince Vladimir attended the wedding feast, which lasted three days, and Nastas'ya went to live with Dobrynya's widowed mother, Amelfia Timofeyevna, while Dobrynya went to fight a war in Lithuania.

While Dobrynya was away for many years, Nastas'ya (believing him dead) agreed to marry Alyosha Popovich (the second of the three best-known legendary bogatyr). Dobrynya was not dead, however, and learned of the wedding plans. He rushed back in time to attend the wedding disguised as a minstrel. After singing for the couple, he revealed himself, forgave this wife, and threatened to kill Alyosha. He was stopped by the third legendary bogatyr, Ilya Muromets. Dobrynya and Nastas'ya then lived happily ever after, agreeing to never speak of or to Alyosha ever again.

Whew.

There were actual women performing legendary acts in history. Vladimir's grandmother was one of them, in fact. Another was a 1st century British queen—a little early for the Middle Ages, but mentioned in medieval literature—Boudicca. Let's talk about her next.

Slavic Epic Legends

A bylina (plural byliny) is an Old Russian epic poem. They often contain tales of a bogatyr, a legendary hero. Early examples are like any other culture's folklore, containing tales of giants and dragons, acts of magic and miracles, etc. With the era of Vladimir the Great, Grand Prince of Kyiv, the so-called Kievan Cycle included bogatyr who were more rooted in real historical figures and (slightly) more realistic events.

I have mentioned Dobrynya, based on Vladimir's maternal uncle. The bylina of Dobrynya Nikitich starts with his mother advising him to avoid doing four things, all of which he winds up doing. She tells him not to travel the Saracen Mountains, not to trample baby dragons, not to rescue Russian captives, and not to bathe in the Puchai River.

He bathes in that river and meets a female dragon. He defeats the dragon, who pleads for a treaty, which he grants. The dragon immediately breaks the treaty, flying to Kyiv and kidnapping Prince Vladimir's niece Zabava. Vladimir orders Dobrynya two choices: rescue my niece, or be executed (sounds historically accurate!) Dobrynya's mother gives him a legendary horse Burko and a magic silk whip. Dobrynya tracks down the dragon's lair in the Saracen Mountains and tramples her dragon pups, one of whom cripples Burko with a bite to the leg; the magic whip (riding crop?), however, restores the horse with its application.

The dragon refuses to give up Zabava, and they fight for three days. Dobrynya, exhausted, wants to give up, but a voice from Heaven tells him to continue for three more hours, at the end of which he kills the dragon. This tale is so popular that it is still told: the illustration above is from a 2006 animated feature.

The happy ending would be Dobrynya marrying the rescued Zabava, but alas! Dobrynya is a peasant and not suited to the niece of a prince. Zabala's hand in marriage goes to Alyosha Popovich (second of the three best-known bogatyr). Dobrynya marries Nastas'ya Nikulichna, a polyanitsa (a female bogatyr).

From here I was thinking of talking about the medieval belief in dragons, but a female bogatyr is too interesting to leave alone with a single sentence. Dobrynya's marriage to Nastas'ya isn't part of the dragon story. It starts when he shoots her with an arrow. But that's a story for tomorrow.

Slavic Epic Heroes

Grand Prince of Kiev Vladimir the Great (958 - 1015) expanded the territory for the Kievan Rus. He cared about his reputation, showing his religious devotion by erecting a temple to the various gods of the people he had conquered. (He abandoned this when it became politically prudent to convert to Christianity.) The conversion to Christianity was politically prudent when he married a royal from Constantinople, abandoning his Kievan wives. (I think it stemmed from trying to overcome his illegitimacy, his mother being his father's housekeeper.)

Something else happens during his reign that I have to assume is not a coincidence, and that he encouraged it: the rise of the Kievan Cycle, legends about heroes, some of whose origins can be traced to real people during Vladimir's reign among his elite warriors and personal companions.

Now for some terms: a bogatyr (etymology uncertain) is a hero, a knight errant similar to Arthur's knights of the Round Table who travel the land having adventures recorded in the Rus' epic poems called bylinas (from the past tense of the Russian verb for "to be," indicating "something that was"). Prior to Vladimir's reign and the Kievan Cycle, Slavic/Russian legends include supernatural elements; the bogatyr often wield magic. The Kievan Cycle is more rooted in fact and national pride. The heroes are often depicted in defending the homeland.

One of the bogatyr is Dobrynya, shown to be based on Vladimir's maternal uncle of the same name. Vladimir had been sent to Dobrynya in Novgorod as a youth. One story claims that Vladimir's rape of Rogneda (see the link above) was orchestrated by Dobrynya, after Rogneda insulted his sister, Vladimir's mother Malusha. It was Dobrynya who forced Novgorod's Christian conversion "by fire" after Vladimir's decision.

The picture above is an 1898 painting the three best-known bogatyr: Dobrynya Nikitich, Ilya Muromets, and Alyosha Popovich. Bogatyr were sometimes known for specific characteristics. Dobrynya was known for his courage, Alyosha for his wits, and Ilya excelled in strength and integrity and his defense of the homeland.

Tomorrow we'll delve into some of the fictional and not-so-fictional bogatyr and their bylinas.

Christianization Aftermath

Vladimir the Great's mass conversion plan for the Kievan Rus was not acceptable to everyone. Less than a decade earlier he hd built a temple to several gods of the local tribes he had conquered, and picked Perun as the chief god.

Perun was the top god of the Slavic pantheon, a sky god with the power of thunder and lightning and storms. He was god of war and law, fertility and oak trees, and his symbols were the eagle and the hammer or axe (many "Axes of Perun" amulets have been found in archaeological digs). Perun was important to many peoples in the region, and even to Vladimir's own military.

So when Vladimir commanded that everyone come to the Dnieper to be baptized in the river or be named his enemy, people were upset, and many resisted. Dobrynya, Vladimir's uncle—Novgorod chronicles claim that it was he who raised Vladimir as a child, and later persuaded him to take control from his older brother—is said to have driven Novgorod to Christianity "by fire."

Pagan protests took place in areas outside of main population centers, such as in the Upper Volga and in the northeast in what is now Rostov in the Yaroslavl Oblast in Russia. Even decades later, in 1071, the bishop was being threatened by a mob opposed to Christianity, but the local prince bisected a "sorcerer" with an axe, saving the bishop and discouraging the uprising. Pagan culture could not be eradicated completely, surviving for centuries: a medieval epic poem composed probably shortly after 1200 called The Tale of Igor's Campaign blends Christian motifs with pagan gods.

Mass conversion was a political move, but it did not immediately change the hearts and minds of the subjects or the culture in win they lived.

But since we've touched on Slavic literature, I want to talk more about Vladimir's uncle Dobrynya, and the Kievan version of the Round Table. More on that tomorrow.

The Christianization of the Kievan Rus

Although his grandmother, the cruel and vicious Olga, is considered by some to be the reason the Kievan Rus became Christian, Vladimir the Great is the one who made it "official." The "Baptism of Kyivan Rus"*  is celebrated every year. The reason he converted himself and the country is worthy of debate.

The account of the Primary Chronicle is that he looked for the best religion of the three major ones (Christianity, Judaism, Islam) to submit to, settling on Christianity because it didn't have the dietary prohibitions of the others. The Chronicle also contains what is called the "Korsun Legend." In it, Vladimir captures Korsun—part of the Byzantine Empire—in the Crimean Peninsula. He uses this to negotiate with the Emperor Basil II for Basil's unwedded sister in marriage. Vladimir already had a few wives, but this would be the highest-born wife he could get, and forge an alliance with a large empire. Basil consents if Vladimir will be baptized a Christian. He does so, and marries Anna Porphyrogeneta.

Several Arab sources cast this event in a slightly different light. They tell us that two rebels joined forces against Emperor Basil, one of whom actually declared himself emperor in September 987. Basil wanted help dealing with them, and so turned to Vladimir, despite their less-than-friendly history. Vladimir offered his help in suppressing the rebels, in exchange for Anna's hand in marriage. Vladimir also agreed (although he seemed to have had the upper hand in this deal) to be baptized and to Christianize his whole nation. Once this agreement was finalized, Vladimir sent 6000 troops to Basil's aid.

Whichever version is accurate, Vladimir married Anna, but had a problem at home: several wives. He had to divorce Rogneda (who entered a monastery), Adela, and Malfrida. He also had all the residents of Kyiv meet him at the Dnieper River for a mass baptism. He baptized his children and all the nobility. Messages went to all residents of Kyiv to come to the river and be baptized or be declared Vladimir's enemy. Priests from Korsun performed the ceremony.

Afterward, less than a decade after setting up shrines and temples to pagan deities to please the various tribes, he had them all torn down or burned. 

In our high school History of Western Civilization classes we often hear about entire countries being forced into Christianity. We never hear about paganism fighting back. In this case, let's see how Vladimir's people felt about their forced conversion. See you tomorrow.

*The Russian attack of Ukraine in 2022 has resulted in a change in many places to use the Ukrainian spelling "Kyiv" over the Russian "Kiev." I still use "Kievan Rus" because it is historically what the group has been called; when I mention the capital city, I will use the Ukraine spelling.

Vladimir the Great

Vladimir the Great (also Vladimir I, also St. Vladimir/Volodymyr) was Grand Prince of Kyiv and ruler of Kievan Rus from 980 to 1015. He was the third son of Sviatoslav I, whose death in 972 resulted in Vladimir fleeing to Scandinavia after his oldest brother, Yaropolik, murdered their middle brother, Oleg, to eliminate a potential rival to his rule.

Yaropolik might not have considered Vladimir a threat, since Vladimir was the son of their father and their father's housekeeper.

The ruler of Norway, Haakon Sigurdsson, was a relative. Haakon helped Vladimir (who was only 21) to gather a Varangian army and defeat Yaropolik, taking over Novgorod. He was crowned 11 June 980.

On his way to defeat his brother, he sent to the Prince of Polotsk (in Belarus) asking for his daughter Rogneda's hand in marriage. Rogneda refused to marry the son of a housekeeper, so Vladimir diverted to Polotsk, conquered it, kidnapped Rogneda, killed her parents, and used Polotsk as a fortress base to capture Kyiv.

During his reign and expansion of his father's territory, Vladimir lived the life of a staunch pagan, erecting shrines to gods and enjoying 800 concubines. He was keenly aware of the religious beliefs of the various tribes and areas he was conquering, and wanted to ensure loyalty to himself by showing reverence for their deities, at one point building a temple to six different gods worshipped by different groups.

This attempt to exploit the gods for his own purposes was overt enough that people resented it. Vladimir, fascinated with the power religion had, sent emissaries to explore the major religions of the world: Islam, Christianity, Judaism. Islam's prohibition against alcohol and pork made it unsuitable, and Jews' loss of Jerusalem showed that God did not favor them. His people returned having been most impressed by the grandeur of Constantinople and its religious rituals.

There are two different versions of what happened next: the local sources that say Vladimir decided Christianity was preferable, and Arab sources that offer a more cynical reason for his conversion. I'll give you the details next time.

From Scandinavia to Constantinople

The Varangian Guard were personal bodyguards for Byzantine emperors from the 10th to 14th centuries. The guards were primarily hired from Northern Europe. Hiring mercenaries from far away was a common practice in many countries (Italy, for example) to avoid soldiers having any local loyalties that might motivate them to help someone overthrow the government.

Vikings traveled everywhere, not only on northern seas, but also the Black Sea, the Marmara, the Aegean, and the Mediterranean. An ethnic group called the Rus, believed to be Norse who settled around the Black and Baltic Seas and merged with Slavic locals, created a culture now called the Kievan Rus. They were the first recruits for the Varangian Guard, after their Christianization.

Over time, Constantinople sent emissaries north seeking to hire more. In 1195, Alexios Angelos sent requests for 1000 warriors each from Denmark, Norway, and Sweden to help him overthrow the emperor, who was his brother, and make himself Emperor Alexios III.

Many Norse, mostly Swedes, made the trip south on their own, seeking employment in the lucrative business of guarding the Byzantine emperor in Miklagarðr, ("Great City"). The number of them—and the consequences of their absence—was sufficient to create new laws. Sweden forbade receiving an inheritance if you lived in Greece. Norway decreed that departing for Greece forfeited your place in line regarding inheritance. Clearly they were happy if citizens brought money back, but were against seeing wealth leave their country for southern climes.

The Christianization of Kievan Rus that brought them to the attention of Byzantium and made them the source of the first Varangians has been touched on before, as has been the person who brought it about, but he did more than that. Next time we look more closely at Vladimir I of Kyiv.

The Greece Runestones

Several of the Norse Runestones are part of a subset called Greece Runestones. These refer to Grikkland (Greece) or Grikkjar (Greeks), and two refer to grikkfari (traveler to Greece). To Scandinavians, Grikkland was any part of the Byzantine Empire. Some stones were raised to commemorate Scandinavians who died in Greece as part of the Varangian Guards, some to recognize men who returned with wealth from their time down south.

There is variety in size of runestones, and the Greece examples are no different. One is a carved whetstone (3.3 x 1.8 x 1.3), mentioning two men who traveled to Greece, Jerusalem, Iceland, and Serkland (the name referring to land of Muslims). (This was originally thought to be a forgery; the claim was that a worker found it while digging a shaft for a telephone wire. It was considered authentic partially because of a few misspellings of place names: mistakes a forger would not make when every available document one might use as reference spelled those locations accurately.)

One is a boulder 59 feet in circumference, known as U 112, side A of which is shown here. It reads:

Ragnvaldr had the runes carved in memory of Fastvé, his mother, Ónæmr's daughter, (who) died in Eið. May God help her spirit.

Side B reads:

Ragnvaldr had the runes carved; (he) was in Greece, was commander of the retinue.

 U 112 is an example of how the runestones are valuable to modern scholars and historians as far more than an example of art. The name Ragnvaldr indicates that was likely a member of a noble family. The reference to his mother and her father are useful in connecting Ragnvaldr to his family. Ónæmr is mentioned on two other runestones, through which we know that Ragnvaldr had two aunts and a cousin who received Danegeld three times. Ragnvaldr was part of a wealthy family. Also, "commander of the retinue" makes him captain of the Varangian Guard, and well-paid in his own right.

The link between Scandinavia and the Byzantine Empire lasted a long time, especially because of the Varangian Guard, and even motivated Norway and Sweden to create laws specifically about those who went south, especially regarding inheritance. I'll talk about this north-south connection, the Varangian Guard, and keeping family wealth in the country next time.

The Jarlabanke Runestones

Of the thousands of runestones created up until the 12th century, 20 fall into a special category because they were all raised by or on behalf of the same man. These are the Jarlabankestenarna (Swedish "Jarlabanke stones") in Upland, Sweden.

Jarlabanke Ingefastsson was likely a hersir, a chieftain or military commander, of a hundred, which was an administrative division of a hundred men (and their families). He would have been responsible for organizing military support in times of war. (Hundreds were used extensively in Europe, and even in the United States: Delaware, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania used hundreds in the 17th century.)

Jarlabanke likely was very well-off financially thanks to the Danegeld, the practice of being paid off by England to stop attacking it. Another source of revenue would have been from men of his hundred being paid as mercenaries in the Varangian Guard and fighting in Kievan Rus.

He used them to commemorate fallen family members and comrades, and public works. The inscription for the one pictured reads:

Jarlabanki had these stones raised in memory of himself while alive, and made this bridge for his spirit, and (he) alone owned all of Tábýr. May God help his spirit.

Tábýr is modern Täby. There is a bit of controversy based on an Old Norse verb over whether he actually "owned" or was simply a chieftain appointed by the King of Sweden.

The bridge mentioned is actually a causeway. There are three other stones raised to give him credit for constructing roads and bridges. 

There are two Jarlabanke Runestones that mention men who traveled abroad. One of them is broken and now shows only the fragment Hann ændaðis I Grikkium, "He ended [died] in Greece." This is considered part of a subset of stones referred to as Greece Runestones, which will be our next (and final) look into the practice of raising runestones.

Runestones

When King Harald Bluetooth chose to be baptized in the 960s, he decided to commemorate the radical change he was instigating for the Danes turning Christian by having a runestone erected. This kicked off a trend for Scandinavian nobles to have their own runestones created to memorialize themselves or others. There are about 3000 in existence now.

Harald's was not the first, however: runestones as old as the 4th century exist, and they are scattered wherever the Norse traveled and settled. The Isle of Man has several, and there is even one as far away as the Black Sea. (Curiously, this never caught on in Iceland.)

The majority of total stones (percentages differ in different locales) are Christian, and crosses appear on many, as well as one of the oldest depictions in Scandinavia of Jesus on Harald's. The conversion to Christianity altered some practices: instead of burials taking place in the family plot, folk would be buried in the church graveyard and a runestone commemorating them erected with the deceased ancestors.

Runestones carried a lot of text to get their message across. The one pictured here is called Rök, which in Old Norse means "monolith." You cannot tell from this picture, but it is a five-ton stone, eight feet tall and with five sides covered in more runes than any other. It dates from around 800.

The usual formula was to mention the person for whom it was raised, their chief accomplishments, how they died, a prayer for them, and sometimes the connection between them and the person who raised the stone. Because the Varangian Guard were mercenaries all over, especially in the Mediterranean, many runestones were raised in memory of someone who never returned home, and "he died in Greece" (generic term for anywhere in or near the Byzantine Empire) is found on many stones.

One of the largest collections of runestones devoted to a single man is found in Runriket, Rune Kingdom, in Vallentuna, Sweden. Tomorrow I will tell you about the Jarlabanke Runestones.

Kingdom of the Isles

North and west and south of Scotland are numerous islands, the Shetlands and Orkneys, the Hebrides, and the Isle of Man, respectively. From the 9th to 13th centuries, they were collectively known as the Kingdom of the Isles.

Their widely spread locations made them vulnerable to invasion and take-overs. Ireland looked at the Hebrides and Man with desire, and Norway was interested in the Orkneys. Magnus Barefoot of Norway managed to conquer the Kingdom for a time in the 11th century, until the previously ruling family reclaimed the rulership.

We might know very little about this part of the world, but the Isle of Iona had a prominent monastery, whence came many prominent religious figures like Adomnán and others whose activities are recorded starting in the 6th century, although Viking invasions starting in the mid 9th century disrupted life and record-keeping.

The Norse referred to the islands as Suðreyjar ("Southern Isles"). The Laxdaela Saga (one of the Icelandic sagas) refers to people coming to Iceland from Sodor, meaning the southern isles. "Sodor" remains in the name of the Church of England diocese for some of the isles.

The natives of the Isles were Gaels, and Gaelic remained the spoken language even under Norse occupation, although Gaelic place-names all but disappeared in favor of Norse names. Norse occupation on the Isle of Man left 26 runestones, when all of Norway has only 33!

Possession of the Hebrides and the Isle of Man came to a head in the war between Magnus VI of Norway and Alexander III of Scotland. Their conflict ended with the Treaty of Perth in 1263, which recognized Scotland's ownership of the Isles.

Next, let's go into a little more detail on runestones.

The Bishop Pirate

William of Newburgh tells the story of a bishop whose actions were contrary to what was expected by a man of God. More recent research offers hypotheses for why a bishop might turn into a pirate and the scourge of Scotland.

"born in the most obscure spot in England," Wimund was educated at Furness Abbey. He was tall and fair, and had a good speaking voice, but had a proud heart and expected to accomplish great things. He claimed to be the son of the Earl of Moray, which seemed unlikely, but more recent theories are that he was possibly the illegitimate son of Óengus of Moray, who became Earl after Wimund was born, or possibly the illegitimate grandson of King Duncan II.

At some point Furness is asked to create a sister abbey at Rushen on the Isle of Man, part of the Kingdom of the Isles. The well-spoken Wimund was made Bishop of the Isles by Thurstan, Archbishop of York. While bishop, according to Newburgh, at some point he started claiming that he wa deprived of his proper inheritance by the King of Scotland. He gathered supporters, promised them to share in his successes and riches, and embarked on a career of descending on

...the provinces of Scotland, wasting all before him with rapine and slaughter; but whenever the royal army was dispatched against him, he eluded the whole warlike preparation, either by retreating to distant forests, or taking to the sea; and when the troops had retired, he again issued from his hiding-places to ravage the provinces.

Unable to stop Wimund's reign of terror, bought him off by giving him Furness and the territory around, giving him some feudal opportunity to collect taxes, etc. Those who suffered under him, however, did not appreciate this. They waited until they could find him separated from his men, captured him, castrated him, and blinded him.

He was forcibly retired to Byland Abbey, where William of Newburgh resided. He had no regret for his actions, however. In Newburgh's words:

Afterwards he came to us at Byland, and quietly continued there many years till his death. But he is reported even there to have said, that had he only the eye of a sparrow his enemies should have little occasion to rejoice at what they had done to him.

If you want to read his story according to Newburgh, you can find it here.

His success in piracy was probably because his attacks were in the Kingdom of the Isles, a series of locations far enough apart that it wasn't easy for the king to send troops to deal with him, as opposed to on the Scottish mainland. We will look at the geography and history of the Kingdom of the Isles tomorrow.

William of Newburgh

William of Newburgh (c.1136 - c.1198) criticized Geoffrey of Monmouth for his inaccurate History of the Kings of Britain, but Newburgh's Historia rerum Anglicarum (“History of English Things/Events”) included a lot of unverified and unverifiable anecdotes. To be fair, he had to rely on other writers for events that took place prior to his lifetime; his chronicle starts in 1066.

He was quite useful at discussing The Anarchy in detail, and his chronicle gives a lot of insight to regular life in the 12th century. He is the only source for an event that happened in his lifetime: a bishop that became a pirate.

The 12th century in England had an interest—by no means unique to that time or place—in "revenants": animated corpses that haunted the living. I previously shared one of Newburgh's anecdotes in A Vampire at Melrose. Newburgh, who was a priest (an Augustinian canon), considered revenants a "warning to posterity" about living a spiritual life. To him, examples of revenants were so common that "were I to write down all the instances of this kind which I have ascertained to have befallen in our times, the undertaking would be beyond measure laborious and troublesome."

He acknowledges that these stories seem unlikely, but cannot bring himself to dismiss them:

It would not be easy to believe that the corpses of the dead should sally (I know not by what agency) from their graves, and should wander about to the terror or destruction of the living, and again return to the tomb, which of its own accord spontaneously opened to receive them, did not frequent examples, occurring in our own times, suffice to establish this fact, to the truth of which there is abundant testimony. [find the entire translated Historia here]

Another example offered by Newburgh is a criminal who flees York and marries a woman whose faithfulness he doubts. Hiding in the rafters of their house, he sees her with another man in their bed, but falls from the rafters, resulting in a fatal wound:

A Christian burial, indeed, he received, though unworthy of it; but it did not much benefit him: for issuing, by the handiwork of Satan, from his grave at night-time, and pursued by a pack of dogs with horrible barkings, he wandered through the courts and around the houses while all men made fast their doors, and did not dare to go abroad on any errand whatever from the beginning of the night until the sunrise, for fear of meeting and being beaten black and blue by this vagrant monster.

In fact, the revenant killed several people, whereupon the village decided to take action:

Thereupon snatching up a spade of but indifferent sharpness of edge, and hastening to the cemetery, they began to dig; and whilst they were thinking that they would have to dig to a greater depth, they suddenly, before much of the earth had been removed, laid bare the corpse, swollen to an enormous corpulence, with its countenance beyond measure turgid and suffused with blood; while the napkin in which it had been wrapped appeared nearly torn to pieces. The young men, however, spurred on by wrath, feared not, and inflicted a wound upon the senseless carcass, out of which incontinently flowed such a stream of blood, that it might have been taken for a leech filled with the blood of many persons. Then, dragging it beyond the village, they speedily constructed a funeral pile; and upon one of them saying that the pestilential body would not burn unless its heart were torn out, the other laid open its side by repeated blows of the blunted spade, and, thrusting in his hand, dragged out the accursed heart. This being torn piecemeal, and the body now consigned to the flames.

Newburgh doesn't seem to have tried to verify any of these stories, with any statement like "... and I heard this myself from one of the villagers who did the digging."

He was not the only person who recorded stories of revenants. Walter Map (mentioned in The Demonization of Cats post) relates more incidents.

I am hoping, though, that Newburgh 's account of a bishop who became a pirate—not referred to in any other known historical account—is true. I will check that out and report to you tomorrow. Until then...

Geoffrey of Monmouth

Geoffrey of Monmouth may have been born in Monmouth, Wales, since he refers to himself that way (in Latin, he writes it "Galfridus Monemutensis"). He is called by some contemporaries "Galfridus Arturus" (Geoffrey Arthur), which may allude to his father's name or be a nickname based on his interests, since he writes about King Arthur. We assume he was born between 1090 and 1100. We don't really know his country of origin, and some assume his parents came over with William the Conqueror, but Galfridus and Arthur were common names among the Bretons.

A half-dozen charters in Oxford between 1129 and 1151 were witnessed by him, so he was definitely in the Oxford area during that time. He was ordained Bishop of St. Asaph by Archbishop Theobald of Bec in 1152, although he doesn't seem to have ever actually spent time at St. Asaph's because of the wars of Owain Gwynedd. He likely died by Christmas 1154, when he was succeeded by Bishop Richard.

His importance to the modern world was the time he spent writing, especially the Historia Regum Britanniae ("The History of the Kings of Britain"). Although he claimed it was a translation of an ancient book—a common boast of medical writers to give authenticity to their work, which was more important than claiming originality—it is a combination of the works of Bede, Gildas, the Historia Britonum, anecdotes from oral tradition, and his own powers of invention. Future writers like Henry of Huntingdon drew on it without question, and from Geoffrey's time until the 16th century it was accepted as accurate history. (To be fair to medieval historians, William of Newburgh (1136 - 1198) did declare that everything Geoffrey said about Vortigern and Arthur was made up.)

He starts his history with Brutus the Trojan, the great-grandson Æneas, founding (and giving his name to) Britain, and Corineus the Trojan founding (and giving his name to) Cornwall. One of his descendants, Leir, divides his kingdom between his three daughters (General, Regan, and Cordelia), giving a later Shakespeare fodder for one of his tragedies. Books Five and Six deal with Vortigern and Merlin, then Book Seven breaks up the history with a series of prophecies by Merlin, setting up not only the later chapters, but also events in Geoffrey's own time. Books Eight, Nine, and Ten tell the Arthurian story, ending with the return of the Saxons after Arthur's death.

Geoffrey's Historia was enormously popular, with about 200 extant manuscripts known as of the 20th century. His section on Arthur—and the Prophetiae Merlini ("Prophecies of Merlin") and the (attributed to him) poem Vita Merlini ("Life of Merlin")—have provided modern retellings of the Arthurian myth in story and cinema with plenty of dramatic details.

As mentioned above, there were historians like William of Newburgh who were more critical when it came to selecting their material and relating it to an audience. William, however, was not immune to relating stories whose interest for the audience was more important than his ability to confirm them. Medieval clickbait? Let's find out tomorrow.

Saxons versus Britons

A major victory of Saxons in England over the native Britons took place just south of Chester in the early 7th century. Æthelfrith, the king of Northumbria, is recorded to have attacked and defeated the kings of the Welsh kingdoms Powys and Rhôs. Anecdotal evidence of the death of King Iago of Gwynedd suggest that he, too, was a victim at Chester.

Other circumstantial evidence suggests that the Saxon King Cearl of Mercia was involved (not sure on which side), simply because Mercia's influence and activities disappears from records until King Penda in 633.

Why Æthelfrith attacked is unknown. Geoffrey of Monmouth and Reginald of Durham, writing hundreds of years later, say that Æthelfrith wanted to find a rival hiding in Gwynedd, but there's no real evidence for this.

Bede and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle give motivation for the attack to St. Augustine of Canterbury's calling down of divine vengeance on the local bishops a few years earlier, who did not support him in his mission to convert England to Christianity. (He was bringing Roman practices, trying to replace the local practices.)

Coincidentally (?), Bede may have been right, and here's why: there was a monastery nearby, at Bangor-on-Dee. Knowing that the battle was brewing (it took time for armies to arrive and assemble before the fighting actually started), several monks fasted for three days, then climbed a hill to observe the battle and pray for the defeat of Northumbria. Æthelfrith had them slaughtered. Bede says only 50 of 1200 escaped. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle offers a more reasonable tally of 200 priests slain. Whatever the number, some saw this as the result of Augustine's rejection by the Briton bishops. (Odd that a pagan king would strike so far outside of his realm to be the tool of Christian judgment.)

Lots of questions about the Battle of Chester remain. We really don't know why it was fought, or all the significant figures who died. Various writers view it through their own Roman Christian bias. One of them, Geoffrey of Monmouth, deserves a closer look, which he will get tomorrow.

The Battle of Chester

Much is made of Augustine's 597 arrival in Britain to christianize the island, but the Synod of Chester, where he expected to assert authority over local bishops, was a disaster. Native bishops rejected Augustine's attempts to change their ways, whereupon Augustine (according to Bede) promised divine vengeance on them. Bede, and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, claim the Battle of Chester was where that divine vengeance was enacted.

The map is here to help explain the two sides in the battle: Augustine landed in Kent to start his mission with the Anglo-Saxon King Æthelbert, whose wife Bertha was already Christian. The local bishops were Britons, whose version of religion is now referred to as Celtic Christianity, with some different practices from Roman Christianity. The conflict had a religious and ethnic facet.

That interpretation aligns with the two sources mentioned above. They are writing long after the battle, however. If Augustine landed in 597, the Synod of Chester would have taken place fairly soon. Welsh Annals, displaying the usual brevity of such records, lists the Synod in the same year that Gregory died—presumable Pope Gregory I, who sent Augustine). Gregory died in 604. Also, David died. That would be St. David, the estimates of whose death range from 589 to 601.

Archaeological evidence and literary records for the Battle of Chester place it anywhere between 605 and 613. If the battle was a result of Augustine's curse, it certainly took some time to get it started. Also, I would have expected it to be started by a known Christian aligned with Augustine—maybe a converted Æthelbert?—which was not the case: Æthelfrith of Northumbria was the aggressor, who was not known for being a Christian. Also, I am not aware of Augustine making any efforts in Northumbria.

The Battle of Chester, therefore, seems unlikely to have been a direct result of Augustine's promise of divine vengeance. Later chroniclers linked the two events for narrative purposes. That doesn't mean that the Battle of Chester was insignificant or a minor conflict. We'll look at the details and results of the battle next time.