The Peculiar Life Of The Chained Recluse, Saint Hospicius

Hospicius was an obscure holy man who spent his final years in the vicinity of Nice, France. His age and land of origin are unknown, but details of his later life and saintly deeds were recorded by Hospicius’ contemporary, Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), who wrote the influential History of the Franks. By the time Bishop Gregory took notice of Hospicius, the latter clergyman had become a complete recluse, living in a walled-off tower in Nice. The tower apparently had no entrances or exits except windows, through which supplies and supplicants could reach the holy man.

Hospicius was an ascetic in both dress and diet. For sustenance, he reportedly lived off only bread, boiled roots, dates and water. As for his clothing, he allegedly wore an uncomfortable combination of metal chains wrapped around his body, over which was worn an additionally aggravating hair shirt. It is uncertain exactly when Hospicius adopted this punishing diet and wardrobe, but once he did commit himself to such an excruciating existence, he reportedly did not relent until he was on his deathbed.

With his spiritual mind and monkish appearance, Hospicius gained a great reputation for saintly acts and holy power. People seeking divine remedies to their problem would wander to the recluse’s tower, hoping that Hospicius could perform a miracle through a window of his walled-off abode. According to the list presented by Gregory of Tours, Hospicius was credited with exorcising multiple demons from various people, as well as healing one man who had been blind since birth and curing another who had been struck deaf and dumb by a terrible fever. In another lauded episode from the saint’s life, Lombard raiders reportedly found Hospicius’ tower and, as there were no doors, they climbed up the structure and broke through the roof or a window. Upon glimpsing at the chained-up, emaciated man in a hair-shirt, the Lombards first assumed that he was a prisoner. Yet, when Hospicius began preaching to them and healing their ailments, the raiders quickly deduced the saint’s occupation. The raiders were reportedly so impressed by the holy man, that they left him in peace, and a few of the Lombards even converted from their Arian Christian beliefs to Hospicius’ own Roman Catholicism.

The death of Hospicius came around the year 581. His lifestyle of self-punishment, with the minimalist diet, as well as the daily wardrobe of chains and a hair shirt, had a devastating effect on the saint’s body. Due to years of constant chaffing, irritation and sores caused by the chain, Hospicius’ body was said to have been visibly “alive with worms” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, VI. 6). As the day of the sickly saint’s death was approaching, Hospicius reportedly had a precise prophecy about his own demise, which convinced him to make arrangements so that his body would be discovered quickly after his time had come. Through his window, the recluse signaled a messenger and sent the person off to inform Bishop Austadius of Nice to arrive at the tower with a crowbar (to break into the structure) after three days, for at that time Hospicius would be dead. On the day of his death, Hospicius was said to have finally removed his chain and died while laying peacefully on a bench. As instructed, the bishop soon broke into the tower, recovered the body, and gave the saint an honorable burial.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (15th-century painting of Simeon Stylites, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• https://www.bartleby.com/210/10/153.html 
• http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07489a.htm  

The Tale Of Thurid The Sound-Filler

Thurid the Sound-Filler was a prominent woman who lived around the time of the Icelandic Age of Settlement (c. 860-930). Before her eventual move to Iceland, Thurid made a name for herself in the region of Halogaland, the northernmost section of medieval Norway. While there, she astounded her neighbors by showing an uncanny ability to locate and cultivate schools of fish. In one particularly lauded incident, Thurid relieved Halogaland from the ravages of a famine by guiding fishermen from the various towns and cities in the region to great fishing spots in the local waterways and inlets. With Thurid’s knowledge and guidance, fishing in Halogaland became so easy that the fjords and sounds seemed to be filled with fish—hence her epithet, the Sound-Filler.

For whatever reason—be it the rise of King Harald Finehair (r. 860-940), the lure of free land, or some other unknown cause—Thurid the Sound-Filler decided to leave Norway and begin a new life in Iceland. She claimed land in the northwest region of the island and settled down to raise a family. She was evidently the undisputed matriarch of her household, as she specifically was reported to have held dominion over her land, and the name of her husband has been lost to history, as he was apparently the least interesting of the pair.

While Thurid the Sound-Filler lived in Iceland, she continued her fish-finding ways, much to the joy of her fisherman neighbors. She was particularly helpful to the Ísafjörður Bay region, where plentiful fishing grounds were discovered with her help. According to the Book of Settlements, the people of the Ísafjörður area were so thankful for Thurid’s help that each household in the region gave her a hornless ewe as a show of gratitude.

As Thurid’s list of successes and accomplishments grew, her neighbors began to suspect that there was something more to her talents than raw instinct and knowledge. Rumors circulated that she had supernatural gifts, such as the ability of prophecy and an education in magic. Such gossip, however, did little to harm Thurid’s reputation. Since she lived in a pre-Christianized Iceland, such rumors likely boosted her renown.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Tristan and Isolde painted by Herbert James Draper (1863–1920), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Adventurous Life of Geirmund Hel-Skin

According to Norwegian-Icelandic tradition, a nobleman named Hjor ruled a domain between Hordaland and Rogaland in Norway around the early 9th century. Hjor often traveled and traded, which eventually brought him to Siberia, where he encountered a dark-skinned woman named Ljufvina. Hjor fancied the woman and wanted her as a wife or concubine. He got his wish, but sources disagree on if their relationship was brokered through a formal agreement with her tribe, or if Hjor simply dragged her to his ship and brought Ljufvina as a captive to Norway. Whatever the case, the two eventually had children, a pair of twin boys—Geirmund and Hamund.

As the story goes, the twins were born while Hjor was away trading or raiding. The boys had their mother’s dark skin tone, and Ljufvina feared how Hjor would react when he saw the appearance of his children. In an act of desperation, she found a maid who had recently given birth to a newborn boy and exchanged her own twins for the servant’s son. It was the maid’s child that Ljufvina was said to have presented to Hjor when he returned from his trip. Hjor, however, was instinctively suspicious and showed little affection for the imposter son. Ljufvina, it was said, eventually had a conversation with a wise local poet and their talk convinced her to bring Geirmund and Hamund to their father. Hjor, to his credit, found the twins to be fine young lads and viewed them much more favorably than the maid’s child.

Hjor gave both twins the nickname ‘Heljarskinn,’ which has been variously translated as Hel-Hide, Dark-Skin, Deathskin, or Hel-Skin. The name presumably likened the boys to Hel, a Norse deity of death, described by the Icelandic scholar Snorri Sturluson as “half black and half a lighter flesh colour and is easily recognized” (The Prose Edda, Gylfaginning, 34). Geirmund and Hamund embraced the name and were known by it for the rest of their lives.

Little is known about Hamund, but Geirmund Hel-Skin’s exploits were better documented. He reportedly managed a powerful domain in Rogaland, either in his own right, or at the behest of his father. The Icelandic Book of Settlements claimed Geirmund “became a warrior-king. He went on Viking expeditions to the British Isles, but ruled a kingdom in Rogaland” (Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 112). Geirmund Hel-Skin seemed to have neglected his duties in Norway to go on prolonged raids, and consequently remained abroad for most of the late 9th century. During his prolonged absence, things began to dramatically change in Norway—King Harald Finehair (r. 860-940) conquered his rival Norwegian kings and, by the end of the 9th century, became the first monarch to unify Norway under a single banner.

When the long-absent Geirmund Hel-Skin realized that his homeland was no longer independent, he decided to abandon Norway and search for a freer land. He and several friends and kinsmen eventually chose to start a new life on Iceland. They sailed to the Breidafjord region of Iceland, on the northwest of the island. There, Geirmund Hel-Skin masterfully used his life savings to claim a large personal domain, founding several farmsteads. With his wealth and influence, he hired a personal army to defend his territory and, if business negotiations with his neighbors failed, to seize coveted land by force. On Geirmund Hel-Skin’s lifestyle in Iceland, the Book of Settlements claimed “Whenever Geirmund traveled between his estates, he used to have eighty men with him. He had a great deal of money, and plenty of livestock….According to learned men, he was the noblest born of all the original settlers of Iceland” (Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 115). When Geirmund Hel-Skin eventually died, his friends and family reportedly gave him an honorable ship burial fit for a king.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Illustration for Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "The Saga of King Olaf" from Tales of a Wayside Inn, c. 1899, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.
• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018. 
• The Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Jesse Byock. New York: Penguin Books, 2005. 
• https://avaldsnes.info/en/informasjon/hjor/  

Norton I—Emperor Of The United States And Protector Of Mexico

In 1819, Joshua Abraham Norton was born to a family of merchants somewhere in Britain. While Norton was still young, his family moved to South Africa, where they set up a successful enterprise. As Norton grew up, he learned the merchant’s trade and joined the family business. Yet, he was not satisfied with the status quo, so when the Gold Rush of 1849 caught the world’s attention, Joshua Norton set sail from South Africa and traveled to San Francisco.

When Norton arrived in San Francisco, he had with him assets worth $40,000 of his day’s currency. At first, he played the market wisely. Instead of wasting his money in search of gold, he catered his business to serving the needs and wants of the gold-miners and city-folk. In particular, he focused his efforts on real estate and commodities. The investments paid off, and at the high-point of his career, Norton’s wealth grew to $250,000 in his day’s money.

Perhaps made arrogant by his success, Norton soon became sloppy in his financial practices and schemes. The end—or perhaps the beginning—arrived around 1853, when the price of rice was temporarily very high in San Francisco. In that environment, Joshua Norton made the fateful decision to pour all of his assets into the rice trade. Yet, as soon as he staked all of his fortune on the grain, outside suppliers poured shipments of rice into San Francisco and saturated the market. As the price of rice plummeted, so too did Norton’s fortunes. The would-be rice baron, once worth a quarter-million dollars, was now forced to declare bankruptcy.

Joshua Norton’s bank was evidently not the only thing to break after the failed rice scheme; along with his wealth, he apparently also lost his mind. The man’s insanity, however, only increased his ambitions. Although he once would have been content as robber baron, the new and improved Norton was shooting for the highest title imaginable—emperor.

By 1859, Joshua Norton was ready to launch his coup d’état. A man ahead of his time, he knew that the press was his key to absolute power. Therefore, on September 17, 1859, he announced the creation of his monarchy in a letter to the editor, featured in the San Francisco Bulletin. The royal document stated, “At the peremptory request and desire of a large majority of the citizens of the United States, I, Joshua Norton, declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these United States” (San Francisco Bulletin, September 17, 1859). To educate the public on how he should be addressed, the insane merchant signed the letter as Norton I, Emperor of the United States.

The publication of the edict launched Emperor Norton I into stardom and celebrity. Before long, fans gave the emperor a blue epaulet-adorned uniform, including a matching feathered hat. He was also eventually given a military saber to finish the ensemble. Besides royal garb, the emperor also obtained access to free products and services—bars, restaurants, theaters, and train companies would pay his tabs in exchange for Norton’s imperial endorsement of their businesses.

The newspapers eagerly anticipated the emperor’s edicts, and counterfeited a few of their own between the releases of the emperor’s authentic statements. Although insane, the decrees of Norton I could be quite witty and humorous. As the United States was ripping itself apart in the years leading up to the Civil War, Emperor Norton stepped forward to save the day by announcing that he was henceforth abolishing Congress and imposing his absolute monarchy on the realm. Additionally, when Norton I learned that European powers were meddling in Mexico, the emperor protested by adding “Protector of Mexico” to his title.

Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, remained impoverished despite his fame and the support of the community. In 1867, he was arrested by a certain Officer Armand Barbier on the charge of vagrancy. This attempted overthrow of the emperor was thwarted, however, when the populace and the press of San Francisco protested in outrage. In the end, Emperor Norton was released and Police Chief Patrick Crowley was forced to take damage-control measures by issuing public apologies. After Norton’s release, the relationship between the emperor and the local government improved. By 1870, the city directory of San Francisco officially listed Joshua Abraham Norton’s occupation as “Emperor.”

Toward the end of his imperial reign, Emperor Norton I had become the center of the tourist industry in San Francisco. Photographs of the emperor were sold, as were fake currencies that bore his name and image. Even dolls depicting the mad monarch could be found in city shops.

On January 8, 1880, Emperor Norton I suddenly collapsed and died while out walking around San Francisco. His adoring fans in the press spread the word of his death and between 10,000 and 30,000 people were said to have attended the emperor’s funeral. He remains a celebrated figure to this day.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Photographs of Emperor Joshua A. Norton of the United States (c.1819-1880), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• https://www.history.com/news/the-strange-case-of-emperor-norton-i-of-the-united-states
• http://www.sfmuseum.org/hist1/norton.html 
• https://todayinhistory.blog/2018/09/17/september-17-1859-emperor-norton-i/ 
• https://www.pbs.org/weta/thewest/people/i_r/norton.htm  

The Remarkable Tale Of The Generous Shepherd, Bu Shi

Bu Shi was said to have been a man from Henan who lived during the 2nd and 1st century BCE, coming to prominence during the reign of Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE). Bu Shi was a curious character—his life story often seemed more fairytale than reality, or perhaps his tale was embellished or invented to become an ideal example of a model citizen. Yet, the Grand Historian Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), a contemporary of Bu Shi, presented the man in his Records of the Grand Historian as not a mythological, literary, or propagandic figure, but as a real and historical person. On the other hand, of the 130 lengthy and often overlapping chapters of Sima Qian’s history, the mysterious figure of Bu Shi was only mentioned in chapter 30, which was devoted to discussing (often with criticism) Emperor Wu’s currencies, economy and government monopolies. As such, it is tempting to think of the generous and selfless Bu Shi as a foil against the growing tyranny of Emperor Wu and his greedy ministers. Nevertheless, it must be stressed again that Sima Qian (Emperor Wu’s Grand Historian and palace secretary) described Bu Shi as a real historical figure who lived during his own lifetime. Furthermore, as Bu Shi reportedly ascended to great political heights in the empire, he would have been an awkward character to invent or embellish. Here, therefore, we will simply record the remarkable story of Bu Shi, and leave readers to assess for themselves the historical authenticity of the person whom Sima Qian documented.

The Life of Bu Shi

Bu Shi was said to have come from a family of farmers in Henan. His parents died of unknown causes, and Bu Shi became the head of the family. Although the family lands and wealth fell into Bu Shi’s hands, he relinquished control of everything except a flock of 100 sheep to a younger brother. Bu Shi, now voluntarily destitute, herded his sheep over to a mountain, where he presumably lived in the wild, or in some makeshift hut. Despite giving away his inherited wealth and withdrawing to the mountainside, Bu Shi in no way lived an idle life—he devoted himself to expertly caring for and expanding his flock. Through his tenacity the sheep flourished, which, in turn, made the business-savvy Bu Shi an extremely wealthy man. Before long, Bu Shi had raised enough money to buy new land and build a house. All the while, his flock continued to grow, and, in ten years time, the sheep in his pastures expanded from the original one hundred to over a thousand strong.

While Bu Shi was growing his flock and wealth in exponential leaps and bounds, his younger brother was simultaneously running their ancestral farm into bankruptcy. Whenever his brother’s finances were about to collapse, Bu Shi would always send over a donation to keep the old family farmstead afloat. These events presumably took place during the 120s BCE, for Emperor Wu, by this point in the story, was sending his generals on frequent invasions of Xiongnu territory. These war efforts were drying up the empire’s coffers, and the emperor’s ministers were launching all sorts of fundraising schemes to replenish the treasury.  In response to the empire’s needs, the generous and selfless Bu Shi sent a letter to the capital in which he offered half of his wealth to the government for use in defending the borders. As to his reasoning, Bu Shi patriotically claimed, “In my humble opinion, every worthy man should be willing to fight to the death to defend the borders, and every person with wealth ought to contribute to the expense” (Sima Qian, Shi Ji 30). According to Sima Qian, the emperor’s advisors were not sure of what to do with the offer—it was reportedly lost in the bureaucracy, and years later the donation was declined.

Although the central government refused to accept Bu Shi’s money, the shepherd still wanted to contribute to the empire’s defense. Around 121 BCE, when the Hunye king surrendered to the Han, Bu Shi made another donation (this time successfully) of 200,000 ‘cash’ coins to the governor of Henan. The central government learned of this and reportedly sent him back more than half of his donation. Yet, the stubborn Bu Shi re-donated the returned money once more to the government. In response to this generosity, Emperor Wu reportedly invited Bu Shi to become a palace attendant, gave him some land, and had the tales of Bu Shi’s charity (and subsequent rewards) disseminated throughout the empire.

When Bu Shi arrived in the capital city, wearing a simple robe and straw sandals, there was only one job he would accept—shepherd for the emperor’s sheep in Shanglin Park. He worked a year in that position, greatly impressing the emperor by increasing the flock’s numbers and plumpness. Yet, the emperor and the ministers were more interested in Bu Shi’s logistical and planning skills than his talent for shepherding. He was given a position as a magistrate of Goushi, then of Chenggao, and, finally, he was appointed as the tutor of Emperor Wu’s son, Liu Hong, the king of Qi.

By 114 BCE, Bu Shi was reportedly promoted from tutor to the position of prime minister of Qi. In 112 BCE, when another wave of rebellions and war broke out, Bu Shi received a new promotion when he sent the emperor a letter, reportedly stating, “I beg that my sons and I be allowed to join the men of Qi who are skilled in naval warfare to go and die in battle” (Sima Qian, Shi Ji 30). Once again, Emperor Wu published an edict, citing the words and actions of Bu Shi for propaganda purposes. In addition to public praise, the emperor reportedly awarded Bu Shi with gold, land, and the noble title of marquis. A short while later, he was also promoted to imperial secretary. Bu Shi, however, was reportedly removed from the post of imperial secretary in 110 BCE after criticizing the emperor’s economic and tax policies. He was instead named Grand Tutor to the heir apparent. Unfortunately, the account of Bu Shi’s life ends here. Presumably, this means he outlived Sima Qian, who died around 90 BCE, and that Bu Shi caused no scandals or made any more edict-worthy donations for the rest of his life.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: ("Qing Court Version" of Along the River During the Qingming Festival, by the Painting Academy of the Qing court, c. 18th century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji 30) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson (pages 72-83 of his translation). New York: Columbia University Press, 1993. 
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Han/personsbushi.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Wudi-emperor-of-Han-dynasty