The Medieval Chronicle (Medieval Chronicle, 16) 9004684891, 9789004684898

Table of contents :
‎Contents
‎Preface
‎Figures
‎Abbreviations
Contributors
‎1. Nation–Power–Subjectivity: The Making of National Subjects in Bohemia and Brabant at the Beginning of the Fourteenth Century (Adde)
‎2. A Medieval Search for the Historical Jesus? (Beal)
‎3. Fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale de la seconde moitié du treizième siècle (David)
‎4. Violence and Monasticism in Two Aquitanian Chronicles (France)
‎5. Entre convergences et dissonances, le maître de Paris et d’Acre et l’Estoire d’Outremer (Helou)
‎6. The Structural Character of East Slavic Historiography in Comparative Perspective (Komendová)
‎7. ‘The Malicious Barking of Critics’: A Literary-Historical Approach to the topos of Anticipated Criticism (Lake)
‎8. The Creation of the Legend: The Pius Prince Dimitrij of Uglich (Legkikh)
‎9. Mousket and ‘Mesire Ernous’ (Moens)
‎10. Female Indoctrination through the Image: The Case of Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (Ms. A 1, Academia das Ciências de Lisboa) (Pandiello)
‎11. La ‘Matière de Troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale (Quéret-Podesta)
‎12. Martin of Opava and Dominican Understandings of Imperial Power in the Later Middle Ages (Rolston)
‎13. Review Article: The Bergh Chronicle Manuscript: History of a Codex, a Codex Full of Histories (Hugen and de Bruyn)
‎Book Reviews
‎Clarke - Review
‎Kennedy - Review
‎Thompson - Review

Citation preview

The Medieval Chronicle 16

The Medieval Chronicle Editors Erik Kooper (Utrecht University) Sjoerd Levelt (University of Bristol)

Advisory Board Kelly DeVries (Loyola University Maryland, Baltimore) Isabel de Barros Dias (Universidade Aberta, Lisbon) Graeme Dunphy (University of Applied Sciences, Würzburg) Chris Given-Wilson (University of St Andrews) Isabelle Guyot-Bachy (Université de Lorraine, Nancy) Michael Hicks (University of Winchester) David Hook (University of Oxford) Edward Donald Kennedy (University of North-Carolina at Chapel Hill) Alison Williams Lewin (Saint Joseph’s University, Philadelphia, pa) Julia Marvin (University of Notre Dame, in) Dorothea Weltecke (Goethe University, Frankfurt) Jürgen Wolf (University of Marburg)

volume 16

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/mc

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms A 1, Fol. 266r (see: María Pandiello, ‘Female Indoctrination through the Image’)

The Medieval Chronicle 16 Edited by

Erik Kooper Sjoerd Levelt

leiden | boston

The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available online at https://catalog.loc.gov lc record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2006233263

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill‑typeface. issn 1567-2336 isbn 978-90-04-68489-8 (paperback) isbn 978-90-04-68626-7 (e-book) doi 10.1163/9789004686267 Copyright 2024 by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill nv incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Schöningh, Brill Fink, Brill mentis, Brill Wageningen Academic, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Böhlau and V&R unipress. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests for re-use and/or translations must be addressed to Koninklijke Brill nv via brill.com or copyright.com. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Contents Preface ix List of Figures xi Abbreviations xiii List of Contributors xiv 1

Nation–Power–Subjectivity: The Making of National Subjects in Bohemia and Brabant at the Beginning of the Fourteenth Century Éloïse Adde

1

2

A Medieval Search for the Historical Jesus? The Vita Christi in Ranulf Higden’s Latin Compilation and John Trevisa’s English Translation of the Polychronicon 22 Jane Beal

3

Fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale de la seconde moitié du treizième siècle 52 Abraham David

4

Violence and Monasticism in Two Aquitanian Chronicles John France

5

Entre convergences et dissonances, le maître de Paris et d’Acre et l’Estoire d’Outremer 89 Kasser Helou

6

The Structural Character of East Slavic Historiography in Comparative Perspective 114 Jitka Komendová

7

‘The Malicious Barking of Critics’: A Literary-Historical Approach to the topos of Anticipated Criticism 128 Justin Lake

8

The Creation of the Legend: The Pius Prince Dimitrij of Uglich Victoria Legkikh

61

156

viii

contents

9

Mousket and ‘Mesire Ernous’ The Portrayal of Arnold iv of Oudenaarde (*c.1175–† 1242) in Philip Mousket’s Chronique rimée (c.1240) as a Means for a Better Understanding of the Chronicler’s Position and Motives 187 Robin Moens

10

Female Indoctrination through the Image: The Case of Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (Ms. A 1, Academia das Ciências de Lisboa) 203 María Pandiello

11

La ‘Matière de Troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale 227 Adrien Quéret-Podesta

12

Martin of Opava and Dominican Understandings of Imperial Power in the Later Middle Ages 246 Elisabeth Rolston

13

Review Article: The Bergh Chronicle Manuscript: History of a Codex, a Codex Full of Histories 270 Jelmar Hugen and Anna de Bruyn Review: Alison Williams Lewin, Ed. and Trans., Bindino da Travale, Chronicle (1315–1416) 288 Paula Clarke Review: Anne Curry and Rémy Ambühl, Eds., A Soldiers’ Chronicle of the Hundred Years War: College of Arms Manuscript M9 292 Edward Donald Kennedy Review: John Scattergood with Niamh Pattwell & Emma Williams, Trinity College Library Dublin: A Descriptive Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Middle English and Some Old English 295 John Thompson

Preface A number of papers contained in this fifteenth volume of The Medieval Chronicle were originally read at the 9th International Conference on the Medieval Chronicle (Poznań, Poland, 2021), and others were submitted to The Medieval Chronicle directly for consideration. Papers included in the volumes of The Medieval Chronicle each address one or more of the following five major themes of interest: 1. The chronicle: history or literature? 2. The function of the chronicle; 3. The form of the chronicle; 4. The chronicle and the reconstruction of the past; 5. Text and image in the chronicle. Beside papers on these subjects, also editions of short chronicle texts may be submitted for publication. All papers are peer reviewed by two members of an editorial committee, and it is a pleasure to express here our indebtedness to its members: Kelly DeVries, Isabel de Barros Dias, Graeme Dunphy, Chris GivenWilson, Isabelle Guyot-Bachy, David Hook, Michael Hicks, Edward Donald Kennedy, Julia Marvin, Dorothea Weltecke, Alison Williams Lewin, Jürgen Wolf. While the series aims to provide a interdisciplinary forum, individual papers may be written from a more disciplinary position; our aim, however, is to ensure all papers included will be both of interest and accessible to scholars from any disciplinary background who share a common interest in the medieval chronicle, or more generally medieval historiography. Reflecting the international nature of the study of medieval chronicles, papers are included in English, French and German. Abstracts in English precede the individual papers. The papers in this volume once again illustrate the geographical, linguistic and chronological breadth of the study of medieval chronicles. Geographically, this volume reaches from Brabant to Bohemia, from Paris to the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, from Portugal to England, from southern France to Hungary and from Rus’ to Tournai. Linguistic diversity beyond Latin is represented by chronicle sources in Czech, Dutch, English, French, Hebrew, Portuguese and Slavic. The chronology ranges from the tenth to the seventeenth century, with an emphasis on the thirteenth; many papers are chronologically focused to a particular moment, but some take a wider view, surveying several centuries of historiographical tradition. Several of the papers here interrogate chronicles in their wider literary context, investigating the development of an annalistic tradition and genre (Komendová), unearthing Classical literary influence in medieval chronicling (Quéret-Podesta), and tracing the literary impact of allegory craftfully developed by chroniclers (Beal). A common theme among many of

x

preface

these papers is the interaction between politics and chronicling: papers address the impact of war and political turbulence on chronicle writing (France) and illustration (Pandiello), the dynastic aims of an illustration cycle (Helou) or myth-making in a chronicle (Legkikh), and the wider socio-political question how chronicles reflect wider perceptions of empire (Rolston) and the early development of the nation (Adde). Emphasis is further placed on how chronicles relate to their authors or the communities from which they sprang— querying how even apparently dynastically focused chronicles could be written for communities of citizens (Moens), how chronicles can reflect the lives of communities (David), and finally how authors of chronicles could be sensitive to (criticism from) their audiences (Lake). Further highlighting the vibrancy of the field of medieval chronicle studies, this volume concludes with a review article on the outcomes of a public-facing chronicle research project, two reviews of recent chronicle editions, and a review of a significant new descriptive catalogue of manuscripts. Erik Kooper and Sjoerd Levelt

Figures

3.1 5.1 5.2 5.3 5.4 5.5 5.6 5.7 5.8 5.9 5.10 5.11 5.12 5.13 5.14 5.15 5.16 5.17 5.18 5.19 5.20 5.21 5.22 5.23 5.24 5.25 5.26 5.27 5.28 5.29 5.30 5.31 5.32 5.33 5.34

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms A 1, Fol. 266r (see: María Pandiello, ‘Female Indoctrination through the Image’) iv Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, cod. Heb. 961 58 Paris, livre 5, fol. 53 92 Paris, livre 6, fol. 64v 92 Florence, fol. 316 93 Florence, fol. 219v 94 Florence, fol. 232v 94 Paris, fol. 197 94 Florence, livre 10, fol. 99 95 Boulogne, livre 10, fol. 89v 96 Florence, livre 19, fol. 219v 96 Paris, fol. 125 100 Florence, fol. 111v 100 Paris, fol. 290v 101 Boulogne, fol. 264v 101 Florence, fol. 174v 101 Florence, fol. 275 102 Florence, fol. 316 102 Nicée 103 Antioche 103 Jérusalem 103 Tyr 103 Shayzar 103 Acre 103 Paris, fol. 290v 103 Boulogne, fol. 264v 103 Florence, fol. 316 103 Paris, fol. 20v 106 Boulogne, fol. 16 106 Florence, fol. 24 106 Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2628 fol. 246, vers 1260 107 Paris, fol. 331 107 Florence, fol. 275 107 Lyon, bm, ms. 828, fol. 205 108 Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2628, fol. 175 108 Paris, fol. 232v 108

xii 5.35 5.36 5.37 5.38 5.39 5.40 5.41 9.1 9.2 10.1 10.2 10.3 10.4 10.5 10.6

figures Boulogne, fol. 199 108 Florence, fol. 203 108 Lyon, bm, ms. 828, fol. 42 109 Florence, fol. 111v 109 Florence, fol. 275 110 Florence, fol. 292 110 Florence, fol. 316 110 The Lands of Oudenaarde c.1250 190 The Tournai of Mousket and ‘mesire Ernous’ 195 Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 1r 211 Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 1r (detail) 212 Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 160r 213 Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 266r (detail) 215 Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 285r (detail) 216 Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 318r (detail) 217

Abbreviations asmar arca cfma cccm ccsl cfhb ctc

eets, os, ss emc mgh ss, aa, SSrM mph mrts odnb Patrologia Latina (pl) tth up

Arizona Studies in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance arca, Classical and medieval texts, papers, and monographs Classiques Français du Moyen Age Corpus Christianorum. Continuatio Medievalis Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae Catalogus Translationum et Commentariorum. Mediaeval and Renaissance Latin Translations and Commentaries. 9 vols. Gen. ed. P.O. Kristeller, F.E. Cranz and V. Brown. Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 1960–2011. Vol. 10. Gen. ed. G. DinkovaBruun. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2014. Early English Text Society, Original Series, Supplementary Series Encyclopedia of the Medieval Chronicle. 2 vols. Gen. ed. Graeme Dunphy. Leiden: Brill, 2010 Monumenta Germaniae Historica Scriptores, Auctores Antiquissimi, Scriptores rerum Merovingicarum Monumenta Poloniae Historica Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies Oxford Dictionary of National Biography Patrologiae Cursus Completus: Series Latina. 221 vols. Ed. J.P. Migne. Paris, 1844–1864. Referred to by volume and column Translated Texts for Historians University Press; cup, oup—Cambridge, Oxford up

Contributors Eloïse Adde Department of Medieval Studies—Central European University—Vienna (Austria) Jane Beal Department of English—University of La Verne, CA (USA) Anna de Bruyn Research Centre for Historical Studies—Rijksuniversiteit Groningen (The Netherlands) Paula Clarke Department of History—McGill University—Montreal (Canada) Abraham David Hebrew University—Jerusalem (Israel) John France History Department—Swansea University (UK) Kasser Helou Université Paris-Saclay—uvsq, dypac—Versailles (France) Jelmar Hugen Leiden University Centre for Arts in Society (lucas)—Leiden University (The Netherlands) Edward Donald Kennedy Department of English and Comparative Literature—University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (USA) Jitka Komendová Department of Slavic Studies—Palacky University Olomouc (Czech Republic) Erik Kooper Department of English—Utrecht University (The Netherlands)

contributors

xv

Justin Lake Department of Global Languages and Cultures—Texas A&M University—College Station, TX (USA) Victoria Legkikh Sprachzentrum—Technical University of Munich (Germany) Sjoerd Levelt Department of English—University of Bristol (UK) Robin Moens Historisches Institut der rwth Aachen University (Germany) / Faculté de philosophie et lettres—Université de Namur (Belgium) Maria Pandiello artis—Faculdade de Letras de Lisboa (Portugal) Adrien Quéret-Podesta Department of History—Institute of Slavic Studies—Polish Academy of Sciences—Poznań/Warsaw (Poland) Elisabeth Rolston Department of History—University of Canterbury (nz) John J. Thompson Department of English—Queens University—Belfast—Northern Ireland (UK)

1 Nation–Power–Subjectivity: The Making of National Subjects in Bohemia and Brabant at the Beginning of the Fourteenth Century Éloïse Adde

Abstract This article aims to present my current research on the emergence of the nation in late-medieval Europe by comparing urbanized Brabant and feudal Bohemia (1300– 1450). Both entities shared, for a while, the same ruling family and belonged to the Holy Roman Empire. Both were characterised by a strong social group competing with the sovereign and by complex linguistic arrangements with social and political implications. Through a new vernacular literature using respectively Czech and Dutch instead of the more established German and French, they both developed a significant sense of the nation, albeit differently due to distinct socio-political balances and experiences. But, while the Czech nation, as a product of the Czech nobility, was associated with feudal and conservative values, that of Brabant was linked to the urban ideals of political representation and liberty. Concentrating on two authors from the beginning of the fourteenth century, Jan of Boendale and the Pseudo-Dalimil, this article shows that the nation had already become a source of legitimacy in the late medieval power struggles between sovereign and political society.

The seminal works dedicated to the nation (those by Hobsbawm, Anderson or Gellner1) usually exclude the medieval period from their investigation. They pretend that the feeling of belonging to the same people had not in that earlier period led to the awareness of being able to act collectively as a people, a holder of popular sovereignty. These works are fundamental as they pointed out the constructivist dimension in the development of nations, and the fact that the nation does not exist in itself as it was long assumed, but is the fruit of a voluntaristic construction, the prepared, programmed and planned advent of an identity embodied in structures, traditions and symbols that establish

1 Anderson (1983); Gellner (1983); Hobsbawm (1991); Tilly (1994).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_002

2

adde

a continuity with a past that they are trying to create precisely by virtue of the imperatives of the present. They are nonetheless problematic for us and seem to not have tried to understand medieval societies. According to them,2 medieval ruling elites were both rigidly stratified internally and fundamentally set apart from the peasants who composed the majority of the population, so that the nation had no role in such societies—and did not exist. In reality, however, political ‘elites’ were commonly larger, and more diverse in composition than modernist (and indeed some medievalist) generalizations often allow,3 and the political culture of the Middle Ages was in general more participatory than Gellner’s view, and that of modernists in general, suggests. More problematic is the fact that medievalists tend to agree with them, rigidly opposing a modern political nation, based on free common projects (as defined by Renan or Mauss4), and a medieval nation reduced to a combination of ethnic and cultural elements. ‘Composite monarchies’, the most common type of state in the premodern era and encompassing different countries and populations, are also seen as an impediment to the development of the national idea. However, although itself a composite monarchy, the Holy Empire seems to have been an incubator of national sentiment. The coexistence between its imperial political culture and a fragmented territorial structure generated a strong desire for national assertiveness from the Empire and the need to keep other nations born from the same process at bay.5 Two sovereign and independent political entities, the Kingdom of Bohemia and the Duchy of Brabant, both belonged to the Empire. At the beginning of the fourteenth century they both developed a significant sense of the nation. In both countries a succession crisis had weakened central authority, leading the Czech6 nobility and the Brabantine bourgeoisie respectively to seize political control for several decades. To consolidate their position and obtain the needed support of the subjects, they cultivated a new type of vernacular literature by using Czech and Dutch. This tool was used to shape an idea of the nation, which presented them as the only groups able to embody the interests of their population and to assertively pursue the political strengthening of their countries.

2 3 4 5 6

This is mostly Gellner’s thesis. Scales and Zimmer (2005); Hirschi (2012: 9). Renan (1981); Mauss (1969). Hirschi (2012: 2). ‘Czech’ refers here to the ‘Czech lands’, the ‘lands of the Kingdom of Bohemia’ comprises the historical provinces of Bohemia and Moravia along with the southern tip of Silesia.

nation–power–subjectivity

3

Far from being exceptions, these experiences are rather representative of late medieval Europe.7 Through this comparative approach, my aim is therefore threefold: first, to reveal the mechanisms at work in the development of the nations; second, to denationalize the study of the nation and nationalism; third, to reassess the traditionally opposed categories of culture and politics. To offer some perspectives on this matter, I will set the stage, giving the context which underpinned the dissimilarities of Brabant and Bohemia and which will prepare the basis for comparative work. On these premises I will focus on the strategies developed by the Czech nobility and by the Brabantine bourgeoisie to consolidate their power in their respective countries. To grasp the way these groups articulated cohesion, common good and emotions, I shall use the works of two representative authors, Jan van Boendale and the PseudoDalimil.

1

Brabant and Bohemia: Two Radically Different Societies?

At first glance everything seems to oppose Bohemia and Brabant, separated by 900km. Brabant belonged to the Low Countries,8 the second most urbanized region after Northern and Central Italy. It was characterized by an old (eleventh-century) and tight network of towns organized around large centers such as Brussels, Antwerp, Leuven, Nivelles, Mechelen or Den Bosch.9 Bohemia’s urbanization, on the other hand, was a more recent (thirteenthcentury) phenomenon, and its loose urban network contained only two large cities: Prague and Kutná Hora.10 While Brabant’s society was very marked by the political influence of the cities,11 Bohemian society was resolutely dominated by the nobility.12

7 8

9 10 11 12

Genet (2015). ‘Low countries’ only refers to the region. The region politically had its origins in the Carolingian empire and the Duchy of Lower Lotharingia. After the disintegration of Lower Lotharingia (1190), the Low Countries were brought under the rule of various independent lordships until they came to be in the hands of the Valois Dukes of Burgundy (1384–1482) and their Habsburg heirs in the form a personal union. The Duchy of Brabant fell under the rule of Philip the Good in 1430; see Vaughan (1970), Lecuppre-Desjardins (2016). Bonenfant (1953); Blondé et al. (2018: 1); Billen et al. (2021: 7–8, 27, 31). Hoffmann (2009: 12–13, 77, 292); Klapště (2012: 285–394). Van Uytven (1966: 434–435). Kejř (2006: 209–271); Adde (2016a); Szűcs (1983).

4

adde

1.1 Crisis and Sociopolitical Reconfiguration 1300–1320 Despite these radically different social structures, late-medieval Brabant and Bohemia had much in common in terms of political and cultural experiences. In both countries the power of the ruler had been considerably strengthened during the thirteenth century. The Duchy of Bohemia had become a kingdom in 1198,13 while King Přemysl Ottokar ii (1253–1278) took advantage of the imperial interregnum (1250–1273) to expand his realm.14 In Brabant, thanks to the battle of Worringen and the victory over the House of Limbourg in 1288, Duke John i (1267–1294) took control of the trade routes between the two major rivers, Meuse and Rhine,15 and also of all the territory that corresponded, in the ninth century, to Lower Lotharingia, realizing the dream of embodying the legacy of Charlemagne.16 In both countries the situation changed at the beginning of the fourteenth century. In Bohemia the King of the Romans, Albert i of Habsburg, took advantage of the extinction of the Přemyslid dynasty (1306) arbitrarily to instate his son Rudolf on the Bohemian throne. After Rudolf’s unexpected death, his successor Henry of Carinthia had proven unable to create unanimity and thus to rule the kingdom. The Czech abbots and lords then elected John, the son of the new King of the Romans, Henry of Luxembourg (1308–1313). But the newly elected King of Bohemia had to accept many demands from the nobility in the form of the Inaugural Diplomas. According to some stipulations, he could name only Czechs to principal offices and as members of his council; he also had to seek the authorization from the lords to levy taxes. The Czech nobility used the weakness of the king, a young foreigner, to impose itself as the embodiment of the nation and thus as the king’s indispensable partner.17 Never having been a topic in the thirteenth century, the nation had suddenly become a ‘fundamental political factor’, a strong argument of legitimacy for more power: the German threat embodied by the Habsburgs had been used internally to invalidate the burghers, who were almost exclusively Germans as a consequence of the German colonization, burghers who were beginning to take part on the political stage.18

13 14 15 16 17 18

Letopisy, 282; Žemlička (2002: 91–92). Antonín (2010); Žemlička (2011: 46, 128–150). Lehnart (1993); De Ridder (1988); Baerten (1991). Avonds and Janssens (1989: 23–50); Kooper (1994:1). On the political events, see Šusta (2002:63–64); Chaloupecký (1949); Bobková (2003: 26– 31; 2018: 75–80); Jan (2019: 257). Mezník (1993); Adde (2019).

nation–power–subjectivity

5

In Brabant the power of the towns had been strengthened by the privileges granted by the dukes Henry ii (1235–1248) and Henry iii,19 and then by their role as providers of subsidies to John i, who was in permanent need of money.20 In 1312, John ii (1292–1312) issued the Charter of Kortenberg. Seriously ill, he feared that his young son, the future John iii, would be prevented from succeeding him as duke. In order to guarantee the support of the towns, John provided for the establishment of a permanent council of control in which urban representatives would have a majority. The duke’s untimely death, even if expected, delayed the installation of the Kortenberg Council. The three lords who composed the council of regency refused to apply the charter and confiscated the merchants’ property to pay off the accumulated ducal debts. In reaction the cities formed a league and led a civil war that ended in their victory. Composed in 1314, the council of Kortenberg favored them with 10 town representatives against 4 lords.21 In both territories the Brabantine bourgeoisie and the Czech nobility had taken advantage of a crisis of central power to gain dominance over the ruler and to establish a written contract, sometimes equated to a constitution: the Inaugural Diplomas in Bohemia, the Charter of Kortenberg in Brabant.22 The new political balance was legitimized in both cases by the production of a new type of vernacular literature that used Czech and Dutch, instead of the more established German and French. 1.2 Multilinguism, Languages and Society During the thirteenth century French and German had become the languages of the secular culture of the elites in Brabant23 and Bohemia, alongside the Latin of the clergy, although both countries were respectively Dutch and Czech speaking. In Bohemia Prague had become one of the most flourishing centers of German culture under Přemysl Ottokar ii (1253–1278). His son and successor Wenceslas ii (1278–1305) wrote several poems in German.24

19 20 21 22

23 24

Boland and Lousse (1939); Boland (1942); Martens (1944); Van Uytven and Blockmans (1969: 402–403). Billen and Kusman (2012). Van der Straeten (1952); Uyttebrouck (1975: 525–526); Stein (1994: 1). Chaloupecký (1949: 71); Van Uytven and Blockmans (1969: 401). As we suggested while listing the privileges granted by the previous dukes, the Brabant charter was nevertheless based on an older tradition; see Stein (2012: 49–54). Sleiderlin (2007). Baumann (1978); Behr (1989); Bok et al. (1998: 193); Hörner (2004).

6

adde

In Brabant the picture was somewhat more mixed. Although the French language dominated the court during the twelfth century, some Dutch texts seem to originate from this time. The importance of French grew further under John i, but the duke was open to Dutch and German. He even commissioned Jan van Heelu to compose the Slag bij Woeringen (‘The Battle of Woeringen’; 1288). But, written in Dutch, this chronicle was primarily addressed to the town citizens in order to convince them, due to the glory achieved in Worringen, of paying new taxes to the duke.25 In both countries, however, the trend resolutely changed after 1300. From this date on the production of manuscripts written in Dutch exploded in Brabant.26 In Bohemia the writing of the Alexandreida, an anonymous Czech adaptation of the Alexander Romance, and the Dalimil’s Chronicle, literally founded a new national Czech literature.27 Czech had been used before, but only in a few short compositions, like prayers. Above all, these new literatures were promoted in both countries by the two newly empowered social groups, the Brabant bourgeoisie and the Czech nobility. It gave them the opportunity to address, formalize and shape a national idea that suited their enterprises.28

2

Jan van Boendale and the Pseudo-Dalimil

At this point let me introduce a major social difference between Bohemia and Brabant. In Brabant, although the towns already participated in the policymaking process through the system of the estates, the rising bourgeoisie challenged the traditional conception of power at the turn of the fourteenth century. While the divide between the two groups should not be exaggerated, with many nobles living in the city and many citizens owning titles of chiv-

25 26

27 28

Sleiderink (2004: 87–97). While there were only 5 manuscripts in this language before 1300, we count 50 of them for the period 1300–1350 (Sleiderlink 2007: 551). In the area of the Low Countries the appearance of a Dutch-language literature of bourgeois origin dates to the 1250s with the Flemish Roman de Renard (Van Ostroom 1983: 12–16). Although the Brabantine nobility was mostly interested in French texts in the thirteenth century, they were also reading the new Dutch literature in the fourteenth century. Dutch-written literature was nonetheless the product of the transformations in society and the new role of the bourgeoisie in the cultural and political spheres. In the same way the Dalimil Chronicle, written to establish the position of the Bohemian nobility, was copied for the bourgeoisie in the fifteenth century (Adde 2017). Lehár (1983); Adde (2016b). Van Gergen (1976); Uhlíř (1988); Mezník (1993); Adde (2016c: 133–174); Stein (2018).

nation–power–subjectivity

7

alry, seigneuries and castles in the countryside, the ideal of government was referred to as the association of the suzerain and his vassals—the ruler and the nobles. In Bohemia the situation corresponded to this traditional conception. The Czech nobility had asserted itself against the king but was structurally linked closely to him. They took an active part in political decision-making during the thirteenth century, standing in for the king when he was absent, but they feared the growing competition of the bourgeoisie. While the Brabant bourgeoisie had to be accepted as the new partner of the duke, the Czech nobility claimed to restore the old feudal ties which had supposedly been perverted since the duchy had become a kingdom. The Czech nobility and the Brabantine bourgeoisie nevertheless used a similar strategy to consolidate their position. They claimed to guarantee the common good and the integrity of their respective countries alongside a ruler who—according to them—was ill advised by the noblemen in Brabant and by the Germans in Bohemia, too young (such as John iii) or even a foreigner (such as John of Luxembourg). According to them the good ruler should listen to the right political partner, that is the towns of Brabant and the noblemen of Bohemia. In both cases language became the medium of the new ideology shaped to justify this empowerment. By opting for the mother tongue used by the population, both groups claimed to restore a nation facing an unavoidable destruction. And this destruction was deriving from the domination of an elite that used a foreign language (that is French and German respectively). Two major authors from the 1310s are representative of these enterprises: Jan van Boendale (1285–1351), a town clerk in Antwerp closely connected with the Brabantine political urban elites,29 and the anonymous author of the Dalimil’s Chronicle, whose position reveals that he was, if not a nobleman himself, at least a supporter of the values of the Bohemian nobility.30 Both authors were extremely influential in their respective countries. Boendale is credited with a corpus of texts composed in Antwerp which includes both didactic-moralizing and historical works: the Brabantsche Yeesten (1316–1351), two short versions of the Brabantsche Yeesten (1322 and 1332–1333), Van den Derden Eduwaert on the King of England Edward iii (after 1340); Der leken spieghel (‘The Layman’s Mirror’; 1325), Jans Teesteye (‘Jan’s conviction’; 1330–1340), Melibeus (1342) and Boec van der wraken (‘The book of the Revenge’; 1345–1351).31 Concerning Boendale,

29 30 31

Stein (1991); Van Oostrom (2013: 145, 159). Bláhová (1995: 162–164). Stein (2018).

8

adde

this article focuses on the Brabantsche Yeesten, a history of Brabant from 600 to the reign of John iii of Brabant, and the Leken spieghel, a didactic piece in which Boendale delivers his recommendations for living well, dealing both with individual morality and political organization. The Czech Chronicle of the so-called Dalimil tells the history of Bohemia, or Czech lands, from its origins to the time of the author’s writing around 1310. Despite his polemical tone, the pseudo-Dalimil claimed to relate the history of his country, the knowledge of the past being according to him the key to national cohesion. The goal of the two authors was creating cohesion by spreading their idea of the nation. In addition to a common territory, three markers stand out in their texts: a history, a language and an ancestral enemy, all shared by their respective people. 2.1 Territory and Unity The materialization of a territory is crucial in nation-building. After the ethnogenesis that brings the Czech people to Bohemia (chap. 2), the pseudo-Dalimil narrates the building of the territory. Focused on Prague, the center of power, his narrative is an account of the gradual, necessary and inevitable absorption of neighboring entities (real or imaginary): the principality of Lucan (or Žatec, chap. 22), the principality of Zlicov (or Kouřim, chap. 30), the domain of the Slavnikids (chap. 33) and Moravia (chap. 70). It is also the story of the consolidation of the borders against neighbors who threaten the integrity of the country, such as Poland (chapters 44, 65), the emperor (chap. 45), Hungary (chap. 47, 48, 53, 58) and the Germans (chap. 52, 68, 71). Even if the ease of this progression is exaggerated by the pseudo-Dalimil, the Bohemian duchy was a well-delineated entity, recognized as such quite early in history: all the territories constituting the Czech lands were unified under the rule of the Přemyslids as early as the reign of Duke Boleslav i (935–967/972). Compared to the pseudo-Dalimil and Bohemia, Boendale had to deal with the shifting and disparate territories typical of the Brabantine polity, and a more chaotic history. His enterprise was therefore primarily to create unity and continuity. In the Brabantsche Yeesten (by), the territory of Brabant is essentialized and organized around its original center, the Hesbaye (Haspengouw) where the Trojans supposedly took up residence.32 The permanence of the territory grounds a fictive dynastic continuity between the different branches that succeeded one another from the sixth to the fourteenth century, i.e. between

32

Boendale, by, 1, v. 235–286.

nation–power–subjectivity

9

the Dukes of Brabant and their predecessors. According to Boendale, the Duchy of Brabant embodies the legacy of the Frankish kingdom.33 In turn, this artificial dynastic continuity unifies and gives form to the group of territories of diverse origins and unstable borders, sometimes part of, sometimes not, the duchy. Following the official history forged under John i (1267–1294) and John ii (1294–1312) and represented by the Chronica de origine ducum Brabantiae, Boendale takes up the idea that the duchy of Brabant is the heart of the Carolingian empire or, more modestly, of Lower Lotharingia, which implies that it historically precedes these two entities and, therefore, founded them.34 2.2 Old History, Mother Tongue, Ancestral Enemy Boendale makes seventh-century Pepin of Landen the first duke of Brabant, even though the Duchy of Brabant only first appeared in 1106. The pseudoDalimil connected the long history of the Bohemian duchy, which appeared in the ninth century, to legendary antecedents, mentioning the traditional non-historical dukes before Bořivoj i (872–890).35 While the pseudo-Dalimil described the ancestral glory of the Přemyslids, Boendale claimed: ‘When the dukes of Brabant first came / and what their names were / and what life they led / and how much time they ruled’.36 In both cases however, the ancient lineage of the rulers did not aim to glorify the power of the current duke or king, but served above all as a support for the narrative development of the national idea by the authors. The mother tongue is in both texts essential. Boendale insists in his preface on his choice to write his history of Brabant in Dutch verses.37 The pseudo-

33 34 35

36 37

Boendale, by, 1, v. 816. Stein (2014: 5–11). Unlike his model, Cosmas of Prague, the author of the Chronicle of the Czechs (1125), who precisely separated the legendary times from the historical facts in his writting, the pseudo-Dalimil goes from one to the other without transitions, as if he were talking about the same subject. Cosmas, Chronica, Bk 1, c. 13: 60–61: ‘Et quoniam hec antiquis referuntur evenisse temporibus, utrum sint facta an ficta, lectoris iudicio relinquimus. Nunc ca que vera fidelium relatio commendat, noster stilus, licet obtusus tamen devotus, ad exarandum digna memorie se acuat.’ (Since these things are believed to have happened long ago, we leave it to the reader to judge whether they are fact or fiction. Now our pen, blunt but devoted, sharpens itself to recount the things worth remembering that are vouchsafed by rhe report of trustworthy people.). Boendale, by, Bk 1, v. 7–10. Boendale, by, Bk 1, v. 5–6: ‘Dat ic die waerheit wille ontdecken, / Ende in Dietscher rime vertrecken’ (That I want to discover the truth / And explain in Dutch verses).

10

adde

Dalimil even uses the word jazyk (tongue/language) to refer to the nation38 although the Latin tradition in Bohemia and the author of his main source, Cosmas of Prague,39 had so far preferred the word natio to lingua. For the pseudo-Dalimil the language and the community of speakers are/were one and the same. Those who do not speak it, the Germans, are excluded from the jazyk even by the name that refers to them: like in the other Slavic languages, the Czech word Němci for Germans was constructed from němý, meaning silent. In his chronicle, the requirement for the sovereign to speak Czech is regularly recalled: duke Oldřich (1012–1033) prefers to marry a Czech peasant woman rather than a German queen, and to sacrifice prestige to good understanding with his subjects,40 according to the pseudo-Dalimil, rulers who learn German forget Czech and become tyrants.41 In both texts the existence of an ancestral enemy represents a danger requiring the cohesion of the national community. ‘All Germans are only interested in making the Czechs unhappy’,42 as far as Bohemia exists, according to the pseudo-Dalimil, who situates the first atrocities committed by Germans in the legendary times. Boendale deals with the aggressive wars conducted against Brabant by Oestheren, the Eastlords, recalcitrant lords from the region between the Meuse and Rhine, who did not accept the Brabantine domination after Worringen. Boendale subsequently lists all the dukes from Henry i on who have fought those Eastlords, although the conflicts occurred only a century later, under John iii (1312–1355). Despite them being united simply by their resistance to the duke of Brabant, Boendale nonetheless presents these Eastlords as the ‘Other’, a unified group and the old enemy of Brabant. Only John iii overcame them eventually thanks to the support of God and his loyal subjects.

38 39

40

41

42

Macek/Pečírková (1969: 128); Adde (2016c: 76–77, 105–109). Cosmas of Prague (c.1045–October 21, 1125) was Bohemian and ethnically Czech, he was a priest, writer and historian, born in a noble family in Bohemia. His Chronicon Boëmorum is the first Latin chronicle in which the history of the Czechs has been consistently and relatively fully described; see Wolverton (2015: 1–35). Pseudo-Dalimil, Kronika, c. 42, v. 21–22, 31–32: ‘Radějí sě chci s šlechetnú sedlkú českú smieti / než králevú německú za ženu jmieti. … / Kde byste řěčníky brali, když byste přěd kniení stáli?’ (I prefer marry a noble Czech peasant woman / than a German queen. … / Which spokesman would you choose / to address a duchess from Germany?). According to the pseudo-Dalimil, Sobeslav’s two sons were educated in German at the emperor’s court. They forgot not only the Czech language but also the Bohemian habits. As dukes they ruled as tyrants, favoring the Germans over the Czechs (Pseudo-Dalimil, Kronika, c. 68–69). Cosmas, Chronica, Bk 1, c. 60, v. 36.

nation–power–subjectivity

11

2.3

Popular Sovereignty, Common Good and Participation: ‘volk’ and ‘obec’ Let us however not forget that, while both authors were primarily concerned with consolidating the newly acquired position of the groups whose interests they defended, they both opted for a political vision centered on the importance of representing the interests of the population as a whole, in order to win over the subjects to their cause. The concept of ‘Adelsnation’, a nation limited to the noblemen, was meant by historians to emphasize the elitist character of the elitist enterprises that effectively instrumentalized the nation, especially in Hungary, Poland and Bohemia. However, to be effective these enterprises had to consider expectations that went beyond the framework of the elites alone, in a Europe largely dominated by the idea of contract and responsibility towards the population as a whole and the idea of common good. Boendale refers to the volk, the people, the pseudo-Dalimil to the zemská obec, the community of the land, the two encompassing respectively all the Brabantians and the Czechs. They both present the power of the ruler as the product of a historical decision of the population against the traditional (and unpopular) conception of power as a gift from God.43 By justifying power as emanating from a social and political contract, they stress the principle of popular sovereignty.44 In the Dalimil’s Chronicle the ‘men’ asked the legendary Libuše, the female judge of the country, to give them a prince because they were displeased to have a woman as their chief. Libuše granted their request, but she recommended them to remain a united ‘community’, the ‘community’ being the ‘protection of all’ against the arbitrariness of the duke, symbolized in his text by the castle.45 Boendale describes in his Leken Spieghel (The Layman’s Mirror) a society that was originally harmonious, with everyone living off the fruits of their labor,

43 44

45

On the development and dominance of the contractual conception of power within the medieval society, see Szűcs (1983: 143); Senellart (1995: 41). On the reference to Common good in Brabant, see Avonds (1994: 164–186). On the contextualization and realization of these ideas, see Avonds (1984), and also Lecuppre-Desjardins and Van Bruaene (2010). On the representation of the urban uprisings by Boendale and its function in his writing, see de Boodt (2019). Pseudo-Dalimil, Kronika, c. 4, v. 5–10: ‘Zlý člověk chtěl by to býti, / kterýž pro své dobré dá obci zlým užiti. / Obec jest každého ohrada, / ktož ji tupí, minulať jej jest rada. / Ztratě obec, neufaj do hrada, / bez obcě dobude tebe všeliká sváda.’ (Only a very bad man / harms the community for his own interest. / The community is the protection of all / and it is better to forget the one who insults it. / If you lose the community, do not expect anything from the castle, / outside the community, you will have to face the most diverse disagreements).

12

adde

until delinquents began to commit robbery and murder in order to seize other people’s property. In order to counter this, the volk, that is the population, introduced laws and private property. To enforce these new principles they also created lords, headed by the duke. He writes: ‘The lords were born / not by themselves / but because the common people / had raised them to the rank of lords.’46 Nevertheless, notwithstanding their inclusive rhetoric Boendale’s volk and the pseudo-Dalimil’s obec were not so open-minded. Unlike the group that competed with them (the nobility in Brabant, the bourgeoisie in Bohemia), the common people were included in the whole, but still excluded from policymaking. They simply were expected to be satisfied with the new order and trust that the social groups supported by both authors worked for the common good. In both cases, the common good is equivalent to peace. In Boendale’s work peace is achieved through wealth, which is itself ensured by the merchants. Peace is therefore based on the security of merchants. He composes a vision in which the prosperity of the cities unquestionably trickles down to the rest of society.47 Moreover, the distribution carried out by the merchants benefits the countryside, which sells its goods, is encouraged to produce more, and in turn prospers.48 The farmer is necessary because he produces the food that sustains people, but the merchant is indispensable because he distributes these and other equally important goods fairly throughout the country. The nobleman is, on the contrary, an obstacle to the common good, because, according to Boendale, he lives from and through war and has no interest in preserving the peace,49 even though numerous noblemen did actually live in the city in the Low Countries and had adhered to the urban ideology and way of life.50 As the Duchy of Brabant did not recognize the principle of primogeniture,51 making a career in the city was a way to escape the impoverishment caused by the division of the seigniorial domains.52 The low local nobility had also participated in the ethnogenesis of the bourgeoisie of the duchy.53 46

47 48 49 50 51 52 53

Boendale, ls, Bk 1, c. 35, v. 57–62: ‘Heren toe sijn comen, / Niet bi hemselven allene, / Maer mids den volke ghemene, / Diene verhieven te herein, / Om dat hi tfolc zoude vrien / Ende beschermen, vrooch ende spade, / Van crachte ende overdade.’ (The lords were born / Not by themselves, / But because the common people / Had raised them to the rank of lords, / That they might free the people / And protect them for ever, / From violence and outrage). Boendale, ls, Bk 3, c. 28, pp. 184–186, v. 21–50. Boendale, by, Bk 1, c. 40, v. 45–49. Pleij (2003: 27–28). Dutour (2006; 2007); Buylaert (2010). Godding (1992). Charruadas (2015: 301–302). Charruadas (2012; 2018: 32–33).

nation–power–subjectivity

13

The pseudo-Dalimil radically denies the legitimacy of the bourgeoisie, presenting it as an anomaly, the result of the lack of respect for the social order by some commoners who wanted to be like the noblemen. Significantly, the pseudo-Dalimil uses a single word to designate all the commoners, the pejorative word chlapové, ‘peasants’, denying the numerous social differences which existed. As in Boendale’s case, differentiation takes place on the field of morale, and not on that expected of the social. The pseudo-Dalimil explains the genesis of the bourgeoisie by the refusal of certain individuals to respect the instituted order. He took up the traditional tripartite model of society in which there was effectively no place for the bourgeois.54 Because of their lack of solidarity with the third order to which they belonged but that they were willing to betray and abandon, the burghers were by definition traitors and egoists, harmful to the common good, unlike the noblemen, who were driven by a natural sense of community, as a body united by values and strong family ties.55 The common people are just supposed to enjoy a society without burghers and Germans. 2.4 Fear, Shame, Sadness, or the Nation as the Key to Happiness Both authors pretend to write in the interest of all, for the common good, but they justified the privileged position of a particular social group. That group was supposedly the most aware of what is beneficial to the entire population, and the most capable of making it happen, using the emotions and increasing desire of individuals to be heard and involved in the decision-making process. At the same time they provided a set of social norms as part of their model of society organized as a nation. Boendale opposes in an exaggerated way the nobility and the bourgeoisie; the pseudo-Dalimil refuses to recognize the bourgeoisie as separate from the peasants, even though its upper fringe was socially and culturally closer to the nobility.56 At the same time, while not all the citizens of towns were wealthy, he invariably presents them as unjustly enriched patricians. In both cases this unnuanced opposition serves to demonize the competing groups and idealize the groups the authors represent. While the pseudo-Dalimil depicts the burghers as traitors to the feudal order, Boendale

54 55

56

On the importance of that model within the medieval Czech society, see Iwańczak (1989). Pseudo-Dalimil, Kronika, c. 98, v. 47–50: ‘Chlap svú volí tobě nic nedá, / pánkajě tobě, svého času hledá. / Moci-liť, bude kdy s tě býti,/ kážeť své i s lichvú zaplatiti.’ (The farmer doesn’t give you anything out of good will; / he calls you ‘Sir’, while waiting for his time. / As soon as he can, he will hit you / and you will pay him back with interest). On the adoption of the modes oft he court by the burghers, see Musílek (2008).

14

adde

sees the nobles as troublemakers, both making respect for the existing order the key to social peace—and thus defending at the same a system that privileged each of them. Both authors target the emotions of their readers and intend to make them feel guilty if they do not respect their nation, and aware that their personal behavior has an impact on the whole of society. ‘Only a very bad man / harms the community for his own interest’, says Libuše. According to the pseudoDalimil sadness threatens the traitor, necessarily abandoned by the community: ‘Whoever is among strangers is in the grip of sadness, / while he who is sad feels better when he is among his own kind.’57 Hatred of foreigners, love of the nation and personal happiness necessarily converged. In Boendale’s Leken Spieghel work occupies a central role. In his version of the curse of Adam and Eve by God after the original sin Boendale does not mention work as a consequence. Work is not only rehabilitated, it is presented as a positive element. By keeping men busy it contributes to the pacification of social life. It is healthy for the body and keeps sin away, while religious devotion distracts from work and leads to laziness. As the new morale of the towns, according to Boendale work regulates the soul as well as interhuman relationships. While for the pseudo-Dalimil the most important goal was to achieve a sense of community, a fabric made of loyalty and bonds of belonging, Boendale emphasizes the satisfaction and fulfillment of the individual. He even created a word to talk about the private sphere, ‘het heimelijchde’,58 and makes a case for its unimpeded respect.

3

Conclusion

At the beginning of the fourteenth century Brabant and Bohemia were two powerful political entities with a long history. However, Boendale and the pseudo-Dalimil were the first who instrumentalized in literary works the past, the territory and the tongue of their country to ground their respective people as nations, i.e. as ‘natural, given, objectively existing human communities, each of which is assumed … not only to have its own common culture, myths, history

57 58

Pseudo-Dalimil, Kronika, c. 4, v. 21–22: ‘Túhať jest každého mezi cizími, / smutný utěší sě mezi známými.’ Pleij sees Boendale’s Leken spieghel as a plea for privacy (2003: 37–39). Boendale, ls, Bk 3, c. 4, v. 455–456: ‘Want dat huis es die stede / Vandes menschen heimelijchede’ (For that the house is to the towns, what privacy is to the men).

nation–power–subjectivity

15

and destiny, but also to be a political community with a right to what is called self-determination.’59 If their projects corresponded to a particular vision which was in many ways polemical, it had nevertheless a more general scope as the two authors belonged to the ruling elites of their countries: the nobility for the pseudoDalimil, the cities for Boendale. Born as a literary project, the nation they ‘imagined’ had become a valuable tool: it allowed the elites, who claimed to embody it and to act in the interests of its members, to capture to their advantage the desire of the individuals to be heard and to be involved in the decision-making process. Looking beyond their elitist rhetoric, we notice that their strategy testifies to an awareness (and to the existence) of a demand for representativeness among the people and the need to satisfy it for the sake of political success. In other words, late medieval society was more participatory than traditionally depicted. The elites tried to turn the political aspirations of the subjects to their own interests, contributing in the process to consolidating the national idea and to make national subjects. In doing so, the elites nevertheless gave weapons to those people they thought to use. They contributed to make the nation a real political factor. The late-medieval nation was expressed through cultural markers. It was also an effective political body. The fortunes of the Bohemian and Brabantine nations nevertheless differed: while the Bohemian kingdom managed to maintain its national integrity despite its subjection to the Habsburg dynasty in the second half of the fifteenth century, Brabant was absorbed into the Burgundian-Habsburg Low Countries and ceased to be an independent nation, although Brabantine nationality continues to condition access to the governing functions of the duchy until 1795,60 while the Brabantine elites redoubled their efforts to make Brabant the political and cultural center of the new entity.61

Bibliography Primary Sources [Cosmas of Prague] Cosmae Pragensis Chronica Bohemorum. Ed. J.M. Bak and P. Rychterová, trans. into English by P. Mutlová, M. Rady and L. Švanda. Budapest/New York: ceu Press, 2020. Referred to as Cosmas, Chronica, [Book, chapter, pages]. 59 60 61

Reynolds (2005: 54). Dubois (2005). Small (2006). The present article is a presentation of my current research project that I begun to realize in the frame of the Marie Curie Individual Fellowship (Saint-Louis University, Brussels, call 2019).

16

adde

[Jan van Boendale] Brabantsche yeesten. Ed. J.F. Willems and J.H. Bormans (1839– 1869). Rpt. Den Haag/Antwerpen: Sdu Uitgevers, 1998. Referred to as Boendale, by, [book and verse numbers]. Online: https://www.dbnl.org/tekst/boen001brab01_01/​ boen001brab01_01_0001.php (last access 16 March 2023) [Jan van Boendale] Der Leken Spieghel. 3 vols. Ed. M. de Vries Leiden: Du Mortier en Zoon, 1844–1848. Referred to as Boendale, ls, [Book, chapter, verse]. https://www​ .dbnl.org/tekst/boen001mvri01_01/colofon.php (last accessed 7 February 2023). Letopisy české od roku 1196 do roku 1278. Ed. Josef Emler. Fontes Rerum Bohemicarum ii. Prague, 1874. 282–303. Referred to as Letopisy, [page number]. Staročeská Kronika tak řečeného Dalimila. Vydání textu a veškerého textového materiálu. 2 vols. Ed. J. Daňhelka, K. Hádek, B. Havránek and N. Kvítková. Prague: Academia, 1988. Referred to as Pseudo-Dalimil, Kronika, [chapter, verse]. La Chronique de Dalimil. Les débuts de l’historiographie nationale tchèque en langue vulgaire au 14e siècle. Translation into French by É. Adde. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2016. 239–397.

Secondary Literature Adde, Éloïse (2016a). ‘Représentation et partage du pouvoir. L’imposition du dualisme comme mode de gouvernement dans le royaume de Bohême au 14e siècle.’ 46e Congrès de la shmesp: Gouverner les hommes, gouverner les âmes. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne. 125–136. Adde, Éloïse (2016b). ‘Langage et pouvoir dans la Bohême médiévale, les enjeux de la naissance d’une littérature de langue tchèque au 14e siècle.’ In Contre-champs. Études offertes à Jean-Philippe Genet par ses élèves. Ed. Aude Mairey, Solal Abélès et Fanny Madeline. Paris: Garnier. 275–296. Adde, Éloïse (2016c). La Chronique de Dalimil. Les débuts de l’historiographie nationale tchèque en langue vulgaire au 14e siècle. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne. Adde, Éloïse (2017). ‘Environnement textuel et réception du texte médiéval. La deuxième vie de la Chronique de Dalimil.’ Médiévales 73/2: 69–91. Adde, Éloïse (2018). ‘Les bourgeois de Bohême et l’impossible légitimation? La conjuration de Prague et de Kutná Hora de février 1309.’49e Congrès de la shmesp: Contester au Moyen Âge. Rennes (23–26 mai 2018). Paris: Éditions de la Sorbonne. 171–185. Anderson, B. (1983). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London/New York: Verso. Antonín, R. (2010). ‘Přemysl Otakar ii. a zisk zemí Babenberského dědictví.’ In Pocta králi. K 730. výročí smrti českého krále, rakouského vévody a moravského markraběte Přemysla Otakara ii. Ed. Libor Jan and Jiří Kacetl. Brno/Znojmo: Matice moravská. 55–71. Avonds, P. (1984). Brabant tijdens de regering van Hertog Jan iii (1312–1356). De grote politieke Krisissen. Bruxelles: awlsk.

nation–power–subjectivity

17

Avonds, P. (1994). ‘“Ghemein oerbaer”: volkssoevereiniteit en politieke ethiek in Brabant in de veertiende eeuw.’ In Wat is wijsheid? Lekenethiek in de Middelnederlandse letterkunde. Ed. J. Reynaert. Amsterdam: Prometheus. 164–186. Avonds, P., and J.D. Janssens (1989). Politiek en literatuur. Brabant en de slag bij Woeringen (1288). Brussel: Centrum Brabantsche Geschiedenis. 16–99. Baerten, J. (1991). ‘La bataille de Worringen (1288) et les villes brabançonnes, limbourgeoises et liégeoises.’ In Villes et campagnes au Moyen Âge. Mélanges Georges Despy. Ed. J.-M. Duvosquel and A. Dierkens. Liège: Éditions du Perron. 71–85. Baumann, W. (1978). Die Literatur des Mittelalters in Böhmen. Deutsch–lateinisch–tschechische Literatur vom 10. bis zum 15. Jahrhundert. Munich: Oldenbourg. Behr, H.J. (1989). Literatur als Machtlegitimation. Studien zur Funktion der deutschsprachigen Dichtung am böhmischen Königshof im 13. Jahrhundert. Munich: Wilhelm Fink. Billen, C., and David Kusman (2012). ‘Les villes du Brabant face à la crise des finances du duché de Jean ii La crise d’une société tout entière?’ Histoire urbaine 33: 63–80. Billen, C., B. Blondé, M. Boone and A.-L. Van Bruaene, eds. (2021). Faire société au Moyen Âge. Histoire urbaine des anciens Pays-Bas (1100–1600). Paris: Garnier. Bláhová, Marie (1995). Staročeská kronika tak řečeného Dalimila v kontextu středověké historiografie latinského kulturního okruhu a její pramenná hodnota. Prague: Academia. Blondé, B., M. Boone and A.-L. Van Bruaene, eds. (2018). City and Society in the Low Countries: Urbanisation and Urban Historiography. 1100–1600. Cambridge: Cambridge up. Bobková, L. (2003). Velké dějiny zemí Koruny české. Vol. iv.a 1310–1402. Prague: Paseka. Bobková, L. (2018). Jan Lucemburský: Otec slavného syna. Prague: Lidové noviny. Bok, V., S. Stanosvská and J. Pokorný (1998). Moravo, Čechy, radujte se! Němečtí a rakouští básníci v českých zemích za posledních Přemyslovců. Prague: Aula. Boland, G., and E. Lousse (1939). ‘Le testament d’Henri ii, due de Brabant.’ Revue du droit français et étranger 18: 348–385. Boland, G. (1942). ‘Le testament d’Henri iii.’ Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique 38: 59–96. Bonenfant, P. (1953). ‘L’origine des villes brabançonnes et la route de Bruges à Cologne.’ Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire 31/ 2–3: 399–447. Buylaert, F.-B. (2010). Eeuwen van ambitie: de adel in laat-middeleeuws Vlaanderen. Verhandelingen van de Koninklijke Academie voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en Schone Kunsten van België. Klasse der Letteren 21. Brussels: Lannoo. Chaloupecký, V. (1949). ‘Inaugurační diplomy krále Jana z roku 1310 a 1311.’ Český časopis historický 50: 69–102. Cherruadas, P. (2012). Aux origines de l’aristocratie bruxelloise. Répertoire prosopographique (11e-13e siècle). Brussels: Studia Bruxellae 7. Charruadas, P. (2015). ‘Urban elites and traditionnal lords in Brussel (Twelfth–Fourteenth Centuries): Opposition or Convergence?’ In Town and Country in Medieval

18

adde

North Western Europe: Dynamic Interactions. Ed. A. Wilkin, J. Naylor, D. Keene and A.-J. Bijsterveld. Turnhout: Brepols. 287–312. Charruadas, P. (2018). ‘La sociogenèse du milieu échevinal. La révolte de 1303–1306 et l’institution des sept lignages à Bruxelles.’ Cahiers Bruxellois—Brusselse Cahiers 1 (L): 9–58. De Boodt, M. (2019). ‘“Hoe haer die ghemeente sette jeghen die heren”. Politieke literatuur en opstanden in het veertiende-eeuwse Brabant.’ bmgn—Low Countries Historical Review. 134/2: 71–95. De Ridder, P. (1988). ‘Brabant onder de regering van hertog Jan i (1267–1294), overwinnaar van Woeringen.’ In Der Name der Freiheit, 1288–1988. Aspekte Kölner Geschichte von Worringen bis heute. Ed. Werner Schäfke. Köln: Kölnisches Stadtmuseum. 224– 232. Dubois, S. (2005). L’invention de la Belgique. Genèse d’un État-nation, 1648–1839, Bruxelles: Racine. Dutour, Th. (2006). ‘Les nobles, les activités civiles et la vie urbaine dans l’espace francophone (13e-15e siècles).’ Histoire urbaine 2/16: 115–129. Dutour, Th. (2007). ‘Les nobles et la ville dans l’espace francophone (xiie–xvie siècles) ou pourquoi poser un problème résolu depuis trois cents ans.’ Histoire urbaine 3/20: 153–170. Genet, J.-Ph., ed. (2015). La légitimité implicite. 2 vols. Paris: Editions de la Sorbonne. Gellner, E. (1983). Nations and Nationalism. Ithaca: Cornell up. Godding, Ph. (1992). ‘Le droit au service du patrimoine familial: les Pays-Bas méridionaux (12e-18e siècles).’ In Marriage, property and succession. Ed. L. Bonfield. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot. 15–35. Hirschi, C. (2012). The Origins of Nationalism. An Alternative History from Ancient Rome to Early Modern Germany. Cambridge: Cambridge up. Hobsbawm, E. (1991). Nations and Nationalism Since 1780: Programme, Myth, Reality. Cambridge: Cambridge up. Hoffmann, F. (2009). České město ve středověku v Čechách a na Moravě. Prague: Lidové noviny. Hörner, P. (2004). Böhmen als ein kulturelles Zentrum deutscher Literatur. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Iwańczak, W. (1989). Ludzie miecza, ludzie modlitwy i ludzie pracy: trójpodział społeczeństwa w średniowiecznej myśli czeskiej. Kielce: Wyżsa Szkoła Pedagogiki im. J. Kochanowskiego. Jan, L. (2019). ‘Nástin vzniku a vývoje české a moravské šlechty (s důrazem na její počátky).’ Matice Moravská 88/2: 241–260. Kejř, J. (2006). Aus Böhmens Verfassungsgeschichte: Staat, Städtewesen, Hussitentum. Prague: Filosofia. Klapště, J. (2012). Proměna českých zemí ve středověku. Prague: Lidové noviny.

nation–power–subjectivity

19

Kooper, Erik (1994). ‘Introduction.’ In Medieval Dutch Literature in its European Context. Ed. Erik Kooper. Cambridge: cup. 1–8. Lecuppre-Desjardins, É. (2016). Le Royaume inachevé des ducs de Bourgogne (xive–xve siècles). Paris: Belin. English trans. [by C. Fletcher] (2021): The illusion of the Burgundian state. Manchester: Manchester up. Lecuppre-Desjardins, É., and A.-L. Van Bruaene, eds. (2010). De bono communi. The Discourse and Practice of the Common Good in the European City (13th–16th c.). Turnhout: Brepols. Lehár, J. (1983). Nejstarší česká epika—Dalimilova kronika, Alexandreida, první veršované legendy. Prague: Vyšehrad. Lehnart, U. (1993). Die Schlacht von Worringen 1288. Kriegführung im Mittelalter. Der Limburger Erbfolgekrieg unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Schlacht von Worringen, 5.6.1288. Frankfurt am Main: Afra Verlag. Martens, M. (1944). ‘A propos des testaments d’Henri ii (22 janvier 1248) et d’Henri iii (26 février 1261), ducs de Brabant.’ Revue belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 23: 289– 294. Mauss, M. (1969). ‘La nation.’ In M. Mauss. Œuvres, 3. Cohésion sociale et division de la sociologie. Paris: Les Éditions de Minuit. 573–625. Mezník, J. (1993). ‘Němci a Češi v Kronice tak řečeného Dalimila.’ Časopis matice Moravské 112/1: 3–10. Macek, J. (published under the name Pečírková, J.) (1969). ‘Staročeská synonyma jazyk a národ.’ Listy filologické 92/2:126–130. Musílek, M. (2008). ‘Odraz dvorské kultury v městském prostředí ve 13. a 14. století.’ In Dvory a rezidence ve středověku. ii. Skladba a kultura středověké společnosti. Ed. D. Dvořáčková and J. Zelenka. Supplementum Mediaevalia Historica Bohemica 2: 475–505. Pleij, Herman (2003). ‘Inleiding: op belofte van profijt.’ In Op belofte van profijt. Stadsliteratuur en Burgermoraal in de Nederlandse letterkunde van de middeleuwen. Ed. Herman Pleij. Amsterdam: Prometheus. 8–51. Renan, E. (1882). ‘Qu’est-ce qu’une nation?’ Conférence prononcée le 11 mars 1882 à la Sorbonne. In Qu’est-ce qu’une nation? Littérature et identité nationale de 1871 à 1914. Ed. P. Forest (1991). Paris: Bordas. 12–48. Reynolds, S. (2005). ‘The idea of the nation as a political community.’ In Scales and Zimmer (2005). Power and the Nation in European History. Oxford: Oxford up. 54–66. Scales, L., and O. Zimmer, eds. (2005). Power and the Nation in European History. Oxford: Oxford up. Senellart, M. (1995). Les Arts de gouverner. Du regimen médiéval au concept de gouvernement, Paris: Seuil. Sleiderink, Remco (2004). De stem van de meester. De hertogen van Brabant en hun rol in het literaire leven (1106–1430). Amsterdam: Promotheus.

20

adde

Sleiderlink, Remco (2007). ‘Une si belle histoire de nos propres seigneurs. La noblesse brabançonne et la littérature en néerlandais (première moitié du 14e s.).’ Le Moyen Âge 113/3: 549–567. Small, G. (2006). ‘Local Elites and “National” Mythologies in the Burgundian Dominions in the Fifteenth Century.’ In Building the past = Konstruktion der eigenen Vergangenheit. Ed. R. Suntrup and J.R. Veenstra. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. 229– 245. Stein, R. (1991). ‘Jan van Boendales Brabantsche Yeesten: antithese of synthese?’ bmgn —Low Countries Historical Review 106/2: 185–197 Stein. R. (1994). Politiek en historiografie. Het ontstaansmilieu van Brabantse kronieken in de eerste helft van de vijftiende eeuw. Leuven: Peeters. Stein, R. (2012). ‘74 Woorden die het verschil maken. Over de ontwikkeling van het Brabantse recht van weerstand.’ Noordbrabants historisch jaarboek 29: 47–63. Stein, R. (2018). ‘The Antwerp clerk Jan van Boendale and the creation of a Brabantine ideology.’ In Political Representation: Communities, Ideas and Institutions in Europe (c.1200–c.1690). Ed. M. Damen, J. Haemers and A. Mann. Leiden: Brill. 203–224. Šusta, J. (20022). Dvě knihy českých dějin. Kus středověké historie našeho. Vol. 2. Počátky Lucemburské (1308–1320). Prague: Argo (first ed. 1935). Szűcs, J. (1983). ‘The Three Historical Regions of Europe: An outline.’ Acta Historica Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 29 2/4: 131–184. Tilly, C. (1994). ‘States and Nationalism in Europe 1492–1992.’ Theory and Society 23/1: 131–146. Uhlíř, Z. (1988). ‘Národnostní proměny 13. století a český nacionalismus.’ Folia Historica Bohemica 12: 143–170. Uyttebrouck, A. (1975). Le Gouvernement du Duché de Brabant au bas moyen âge (1355– 1430). Vol. i. Brussels: Université de Bruxelles. Van der Straeten, J. (1952). Het Charter en de Raad van Kortenberg. 2 vols. Leuven: Universiteitsbibliotheek. Van Gergen, J. (1976). ‘Nationaal gevoel en stedelijke politieke visies in het 14de eeuwse Brabant. Het voorbeeld van Jan van Boendale.’ Bijdragen tot de geschiedenis 59: 145– 164 Van Ostroom, Frits (1983). Reinaert primair: over het geïntendeerde publiek en de oorspronkelijke functie van Van den vos Reinaerde, Utrecht: hes. Van Ostroom, Frits (20134). Wereld in woorden. Geschiedenis van de Nederlandse letterkunde, 1300–1400, Amsterdam: Bert Bakker. Van Uytven, R. (1966). ‘Standenprivileges en -beden in Brabant onder Jan i (1290–1293).’ Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire 44: 413–456. Van Uytven, Raymond, and Wim Blockmans (1969). ‘Constitutions and their Application in the Netherlands during the Middle Ages.’ Revue belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 47/2: 399–424.

nation–power–subjectivity

21

Vaughan, R. (1970). Philip the Good: The Apogee of Burgundy, Hoboken: Prentice Hall Press. Wolverton, L. (2015). Cosmas of Prague: Narrative, Classicism, Politics. Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press. Žemlička, J. (2002). Počátky Čech královských 1198–1253. Proměna státu a společnosti. Prague: Lidové noviny. Žemlička, J. (2011). Přemysl Otakar ii. Král na rozhraní věků. Prague: Lidové noviny.

2 A Medieval Search for the Historical Jesus? The Vita Christi in Ranulf Higden’s Latin Compilation and John Trevisa’s English Translation of the Polychronicon Jane Beal

Abstract The Polychronicon, a fourteenth-century universal history of the world compiled from Latin sources by the Benedictine monk of Chester, Ranulf Higden, and translated into English by an Oxford-educated priest, John Trevisa, contains in its fourth book a vita Christi. The life of Jesus in the Polychronicon is interwoven with the historical narrative of the chronicle but, at the same time, it is not presented solely as a series of literal, historical events. It is also subtly enriched with medieval allegorical interpretations. Indeed, for all that the vita Christi in the Polychronicon differs from traditional works in the genre, it was carefully, rhetorically constructed by Ranulf and translated by Trevisa to situate the conception and birth of Jesus in time, to represent Christ’s divine power through supernatural miracles and over earthly kings, and to contrast his initially hidden identity in Mary’s womb with a revelation of his later public identity through his ministry and its culmination in his Passion. The approach of the chronicler and his translator proved influential on later writers.

In the first half of the fourteenth-century the Benedictine monk Ranulf Higden compiled the Polychronicon, a universal history of the world, from a wide variety of Latin sources. By 1387, the secular priest John Trevisa translated the work into English. In both versions of the Polychronicon, the Latin and the English, a life of Christ is included in book iv, chapters 1–6. The narrative of Christ’s life is drawn from a variety of sources, including Bede, Dionysius, Josephus, Marianus, Martinus, Peter Comestor and others as well as the four gospels of the New Testament, especially Matthew, Luke and John. In the Polychronicon, the vita is interwoven with contemporary events in the Roman Empire at the beginning of the first millennium as well as miracles, saints’ legends and an apocryphal life of Judas. The re-telling of the life of Jesus in this medieval chronicle presents Jesus in historical context. Notes interpolated by both Higden and Trevisa primar-

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_003

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

23

ily seek to clarify dates, terms and the reliability of key authorities.1 Yet the life of Christ that they preserve is not presented solely as history: it is also enriched with a plethora of myriad details, some of which have metaphoric or symbolic overtones, and others of which have subtle medieval allegorical interpretations. Indeed, for all that the vita Christi in the Polychronicon differs from traditional works in the genre (e.g., Nicholas Love, Mirror of the Blessed Life of Jesus Christ),2 it was carefully, rhetorically constructed by Ranulf, and subsequently translated by Trevisa, to situate the conception and birth of Jesus in time, to represent his divine power through supernatural miracles and over earthly kings and, by means of the fulsome narrative of history contextualizing the vita, to contrast his initially hidden identity in the Virgin Mary’s womb with a revelation of his later public identity in his ministry and its culmination in his Passion. The approach of the chronicler and his translator proved influential on later writers. Drawing on the Polychronicon and the Legenda aurea, one late-medieval English poet created the work now known as The Stanzaic Life of Christ.3 In 1482 William Caxton printed his own version in ‘modernized’ English and an eighth book appended to the original work in order to bring it up to date.4 With Caxton’s edition the medieval search for the historical Jesus in the Polychronicon is mined once again by early Renaissance readers for devotional matter in an age when possession of an English Bible is illegal without special permission.5 This can be seen not only in Caxton’s printed edition itself, but also in a manuscript book derived from it. Caxton’s version, together with his printed edition of the Legenda aurea, was specifically used to create the vita Christi in Trinity College ms D29. A study of the life of Christ in the Polychronicon, and its offshoots, is valuable not only to our comprehension of the medieval and early modern reception of the vita Christi but also to our knowledge of changing medieval understandings of the mutually transformational relationship between history and devotion.

1 On Trevisa’s prefaces and original notes, see Waldron (1998) and (2001) respectively, as well as Beal (2012), and Steiner (2021). 2 For a contemporary, continental example, see that of the Italian Franciscan, Umbertino da Casale: Arbor Vita Crucifixae Iesu (completed c.1305; printed 1485 and 1961). On the vita Christi genre, see Patterson (2019). 3 For an edition of the Stanzaic Life of Christ, see Foster (1926). 4 See Matheson (1985), Beal (2012), and Tonry (2012). 5 On the Constitutions of Arundel, see Watson (1995).

24 1

beal

Contexts for Understanding the Vita Christi of the Polychronicon: Fourteenth-Century England, Polyvocal Compilation and Translation, Intentions and Audiences

Fourteenth-century England, the broad historical and geographical context for the production of the Polychronicon, was tumultuous: two catastrophic events, the Great Famine (1315–1317, which was followed by other famines in 1321, 1351 and 1369) and the Black Death (c.1340s and later recurrences), eliminated nearly half of the island population.6 Furthermore, King Edward i, Edward ii, Edward iii and his son, the Black Prince, and the young Richard ii were embroiled in conflicts in Scotland and France, including the Despenser War (1321–1322) and the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453). Excessive taxation funded these wars. Political unrest in the country led to the Peasants’ Revolt (1381) and, later, the deposition and death of King Richard ii (1399), who was replaced by Henry iv, the son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and grandson of Edward iii. Noblemen retained significant power and influence during these regnal changes through the practice of a type of ‘bastard feudalism’.7 Beginning in the 1380s, John Wyclif and others at Oxford University challenged traditional church teachings, emphasizing that Scripture was the primary authority for Christian living and that wealth had corrupted the Church. The Wycliffites, or ‘Lollards’ (as they were called), advocated for a vernacular English Bible, which they produced, and for English preaching that could be understood by those who did not know Latin.8 Significant literary works were produced in English in this late-medieval period as well by such notable authors as Chaucer, Gower, Langland, the Pearl-poet, Julian of Norwich and Margery Kempe as well as other writers. In differing ways, these writers were influenced by the affective piety of the age. Emotional forms of devotion to Jesus are especially evident in the contemplative writings of Julian of Norwich, William Langland, Margery Kempe, the Pearl-poet, Richard Rolle and Walter Hilton.9 6 On the historical events of fourteenth-century England, see McKisack (1959), and Barbara Tuchman (1978). 7 This late form of feudalism entailed middle-ranking men giving domestic, legal, military and political service in a return for differing forms of compensation (e.g., money, influence or office). This produced more loyalty to certain regional lords than the king as becomes apparent in the deposition of Richard ii. Charles Plummer coined the term ‘bastard feudalism’ in 1885, and it was used by other nineteenth-century historians, especially William Stubbs, more particularly to describe the situation that unfolded during the War of the Roses. For discussion, see Hicks (1995). 8 On the Wycliffite reforms, see Hudson (1988; 2003; 2008; 2015). 9 On affective meditation and compassion, see McNamer (2009).

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

25

Within this historical context, Ranulf Higden, a Benedictine monk of St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester in the northwest of England, compiled the Latin Polychronicon, a universal history of the world, in stages over a number of years from a wide variety of sources. He lists approximately seventy of these sources in a prefatory chapter, but he cites well over two hundred in his chronicle. His method of compilation was scholarly: Ranulf notes his sources by naming the author (or, sometimes, the work) and then paraphrasing or quoting directly. His own interpolations he marks with an ‘R’. Imitating him, the translator, John Trevisa, labels his own comments inserted within the text with his name, ‘Trevisa’. Thus the narrative of history in the Polychronicon can be characterized as polyvocal: not only is it a history book of ‘many times’ (as the title suggests), but also of ‘many voices’.10 Ranulf and Trevisa and their sources do not always agree, and these differences of opinion about points of history surface as a textual dialogue or conversation between compiler and translator, as well their antecedent sources, that is evident in the historical narrative presented to the audience. The intended audience of the Polychronicon was extensive. Ranulf’s prefaces to the Polychronicon indicate that he intended his universal history to be for the sake of England and for the spread of the Gospel. Ranulf had a particular interest in preaching, and in producing aids for preachers, as his extant canon of works, including his Ars praedicandi and Distinctiones, suggests.11 The Polychronicon can also be considered a resource for preachers, particularly monastic ones, as sermons were preached regularly within Benedictine houses, such as the one of which Ranulf himself was a part: St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester. Although Franciscans and Dominicans are usually considered the ‘preaching orders’, in fact plenty of preaching took place in Benedictine houses, too. Ranulf’s particular interest in providing aids to preachers may explain why John Trevisa translated the Polychronicon into English. Trevisa’s time at Oxford University overlapped with that of John Wyclif and his followers: their fervor for a vernacular Bible and vernacular preaching apparently influenced him. Trevisa completed his translation of the Polychronicon into English in 1387 in the period when the versions of the Wycliffite Bible were being produced between 1382 and 1395.12 Nicholas of Here-

10 11

12

On the polyvocality of the Polychronicon, see Steiner (2021). Editions of Ranulf Higden’s works continue to be produced: the Ars praedicandi was edited by Jennings and Wilson (1991) and the Distinctiones by Crook (2021); both editions are paired with modern English translations. Fowler (1995).

26

beal

ford is known to have translated a part of the Wycliffite Bible, but John Purvey and John Trevisa have also been associated with the production of Bible and biblical stories in English in the fourteenth century.13 Trevisa’s ‘Dialogue between a Lord and a Clerk’, which prefaces his English Polychronicon in some manuscripts, and his interpolated notes both indicate that he anticipated an audience of noblemen, like his patron, Lord Thomas of Berkeley, clerics, including priests and lesser-educated men who understood English better than Latin, and preachers preaching in English, and, through this latter group, listeners who understood English—in other words, everyone in England who listened to sermons in a variety of ecclesiastical, university and noble household contexts.14 After William Caxton printed Trevisa’s English Polychronicon, with the English modernized and an eighth book appended, the chronicle reached a wide variety of English readers, both men and women, who utilized it for devotional purposes as well as expected historical studies and investigations. The later reception of the vita Christi of the Polychronicon suggests that it could be used devotionally and contemplatively. This accords with its monastic origins. Indeed, the possibility for meditation on the life of Christ in the chronicle for the purposes of spiritual growth is hinted at by Ranulf’s allegorical elements in the vita and his presentation of the emperors Octavian and Tiberius and the disciples John the Baptist and Judas as ‘types’ of good and evil exemplars. Ranulf’s history-telling was meant to inspire moral character building and perhaps certain forms of imitatio Christi. That being said, Ranulf Higden and his translator, John Trevisa, emphasized the historical contextualization of the life of Jesus in a way that might almost be interpreted as a reaction against overly emotional devotion to Jesus. They seem to want readers and listeners to know historical facts about Jesus as a balance to experiencing spiritual feelings inspired by his life. It should be noted that the ‘historical’ Jesus whom Ranulf and Trevisa present to their audience is not devoid of theological interpretation in the way that scholars today might present him: for the compiler and translator, and for their audiences, the historical Jesus was both fully human and fully divine. What they did was not new: they were working with a long tradition of representing the life of Christ in medieval chronicles ultimately sourced in the Gospels and Josephus. Yet they incorporated, synthesized and juxtaposed incredibly rich detail from a variety of sources in a unique way to tell Christ’s life-story in broad historical context. They then reached a new audience of English people

13 14

See Fowler (1995), Hudson (2008), and Beal (2012). Hanna (1989), Somerset (1998), and Beal (2012).

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

27

in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries with their specific version of the life of Jesus. It proved influential.

2

History and Theology: Introducing the Time of Jesus in the Vita Christi of the Polychronicon

The account of the life of Jesus in the Polychronicon begins with Ranulf Higden’s careful attempts to properly situate the conception of Jesus in time: in the reign of Octavian Augustus and of Herod, in the 190th year of the Olympias and 705th since the building of Rome, in the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy with John the Baptist, specifically on Friday, the eighth of April, the tenth day of the lunar cycle, and the twelfth of the Indictione: indictione is a word which refers to a proclamation made every fifteen years in the later Roman Empire fixing the value of property for the purposes of taxation, as Trevisa later explains. In his translation, Trevisa interpolates a note on how the Greeks celebrated their own Olympics (‘dedes of myʒt and of strengþ at þe foot þe hil [mons] Olympus’)15 once every five years, so the first of every five years is called an ‘Olympias’. Thus, both the Latin chronicler and the vernacular translator are careful to give their intended audiences a clear sense of the precise moment in time when Jesus was conceived within the Virgin Mary, wife of Joseph (‘de virgine Maria nuper Josepho desponsata est conceptus est Christus’).16 This careful, nuanced historicizing is immediately paired with a theological assertion paraphrased by Ranulf and translated by Trevisa from their source, Peter Comestor’s Historia Evangelica: ‘Plenus homo in anima et carne, ita quidem quod liniamenta corporis et membrorum visibus humanis discerni non posssent’ (‘Crist was conceived ful man in soule and in flesche, so þat þe schap of his lemes and his body myʒt nouʒt be seie in manis eyʒe’).17 The emphasis here is on Christ’s full humanity: his full divinity does not, apparently, even need a defense. This orthodox Christian belief in Jesus as both fully man and fully God, a theological concept known as ‘hypostatic union’, asserts that Jesus had two complete but distinct natures at once. This belief was confirmed by the Council of Ephesus in the fifth century and incorporated in the Athanasian Creed.18 Unsurprisingly, the monk Ranulf and the priest Trevisa held to this belief. 15 16 17 18

Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 253. Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 252. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 254, 255. Hypostatic union is the phrase used in Christian theology (specifically, Christology) to

28

beal

Intriguing here is the way that their theologizing is interwoven with their historicizing, a method which they follow throughout the vita Christi in the Polychronicon. Certainly, this method is common among other medieval historians, their predecessors and contemporaries, whom both Ranulf and Trevisa read. However, the choice of quotation from Peter Comestor specifically emphasizes how the conception of Christ within the Virgin Mary prevented his human body from being seen by human eyes.19 The introduction of the idea of the hiddenness of Christ’s body is significant, inviting contemplation of the way that the identity of Jesus was not only concealed in his conception and then revealed in his birth and later ministry, but also, in parallel, concealed in his burial and then revealed in his Resurrection. A typological connection is not spelled out here in the Polychronicon, but the implication of it speaks to the larger idea of desiring to reveal a hidden Christ, both historically and theologically, to readers of the vita Christi. The search for the historical Jesus is on—and so is the acclamation of the theological Christ. Ranulf continues the first chapter by referring to the six ages of the world, explaining that different historians date the beginning of the sixth age from various events in Christ’s life: his Incarnation, or his Nativity, or his Baptism, or his Passion, ‘quia tunc aperta est porta Paradisi’ (‘because then the gate of Paradise was opened’).20 Ranulf then makes a typological connection between the first Adam and the second Adam, Jesus, adding that at the very same hour on the Friday when Adam sinned and was thrown out of Eden, that was when the Good Thief was led into Paradise. Relying on Martianus, Book ii, the chapter continues by saying it is not against Holy Church to acknowledge that Christ suffered over multiple days, more than one of which could correspond to Adam’s day of exile from Eden. Relying on Saint Augustine, the chapter asserts that Jesus died on a Friday and rose on a Sunday, yet nevertheless was in the grave over three days, though only for forty hours—and this in contradistinction to Peter Comestor, ‘magister in historiis’.21 Trevisa here interjects his own note, stating, ‘Hit nedeþ nouʒt to wiþ seie þe maister of stories [i.e. Peter Comestor] in þis place wiþoute oþer evydens while nyʒtes and days mowe be accounted in meny manere wise.’22 Trevisa’s disagreement with Ranulf here is a

19 20 21 22

describe the union of humanity and divinity in one hypostasis or individual existence: Jesus. For discussion of this creed, see Kelly (1964). On Peter Comestor’s Historia Ecclesiastica, see Clark (2016), Luscombe (2013), and Smalley (1964). Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 256 (my translation). Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 262. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 265.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

29

key example of the polyvocality of the Polychronicon, and, significantly, of Trevisa’s desire to affirm the authority of Peter Comestor to his intended audience in his vernacular translation. From this point, the chronicle begins to follow the gospel accounts of Luke and Matthew, supplemented by Bede and Peter Comestor, recounting Mary’s visit to Elizabeth and Joseph’s hesitation to marry her when she was found to be with child until an angel visited him in a dream. It explains Caesar’s order for the census to take place and the requirement for the couple to return to Bethlehem and pay a tax, then how Mary had her child in Bethlehem as a result of this order, and how Christ was circumcised eight days later on a Sunday. It mentions the Epiphany on the 6th day of January when the ‘Magis adoratus est’ (‘þo come þe kynges in worschippynge of Crist’),23 Christ’s presentation in the Temple forty days after his birth, and the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt after Joseph was warned to flee from Herod by an angel in a dream. Ranulf then inserts his own comment on how diverse historians debate the exact dates and years of events in the life of Christ. He advises readers to follow the Venerable Bede in his book, De temporibus.24 After spilling quite a bit more ink over this issue, he affirms that Christ preached for three and a half years, per the Gospel of John, and so he suffered death in his thirty-third year. The first chapter of the vita Christi in the Polychronicon ends by asserting that Christ’s first year of life corresponds to the forty-second of Augustus, his second to the Emperor’s forty-third year, and so on. Both the Latin compiler and English translator present an overview of the major events of the life of Jesus with reference to when they occurred in time. Noting conflicting accounts of exact dates, Ranulf chooses Bede as his authority for determining what happened and when in the life of Jesus. There is no questioning of the legitimacy of the gospel accounts, understandably, given the orthodox Christian worldview of both Ranulf and Trevisa. But when Ranulf questions Peter Comestor, it is worth noting that Trevisa defends the authority of the ‘master of histories’.25 The dialogue between compiler and

23 24

25

Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 266, 267. Bede’s On the Reckoning of Time was edited in the pl 90 (1862) and in ccsl (1977); it is available online: http://www.nabkal.de/beda.html. Cf. On the Reckoning of Time, trans. Willis (1999). On the use of Bede in the Polychronicon, see Beal (2016). Peter Comestor (his surname meaning ‘the Eater’, ostensibly because Peter devoured books) was known as the ‘Master of Histories’ because of his historical and theological summa, the Historia ecclesiastica. On Peter Comestor, again, see Smalley (1964), Luscombe (2013), and Clark (2016).

30

beal

translator, and between them both and their antecedent sources, is part and parcel of the Polychronicon; the difference in intended audience is its raison d’être.26 Trevisa’s defense of Peter Comestor is a defense of Trevisa’s view of what constitutes a reliable, historical authority. For Trevisa, Peter Comestor was certainly a reliable authority on matters both historical and ecclesiastical. ‘The Master of Histories’ was a twelfth-century French theological writer, university teacher and canon and dean of Troyes Cathedral who later became chancellor of Notre Dame in Paris and who was laid to rest after his death in the Abbey of St Victor. He was most famous for his work, the Historia scholastica, an influential universal history of the world based on the Bible as well as other sources, including classical scholars and Church Fathers. His work provided a model for the Polychronion in integrating classical and accepted church history. His work also provided key details in the vita Christi of Ranulf and Trevisa. Because Trevisa was translating this work for noble laymen like his patron, Thomas Lord Berkeley, and lesser-educated priests serving in his lands, Trevisa apparently wanted Peter’s authority confirmed rather than contrasted with that of Bede. This dynamic will be evident in other parts of the life of Jesus in the Polychronicon as well.

3

Miracles and Kings: Representing the Power of Jesus in the Vita Christi of the Polychronicon

The second, third and fourth chapters of book iv of the Polychronicon continue the life of Christ with an emphasis on his divine power. The significance of Jesus in history, as the Son of God ‘who took on flesh and dwelt among us’27 through the act of Incarnation, is first represented through a series of miracles at his birth. The story of the Magi is given to readers as an example of wise kings who know how to bow to Christ’s power. The Magi thus prove to be foils for first-century Roman rulers who did not recognize the kingship of Christ. Christ’s power is specifically contrasted with that of the Herodian client-kings and two Roman emperors, Octavian Augustus, to whom divinity was attributed but who ostensibly declined to accept worship for it from his people, and Tiberius Caesar, who claimed divinity but whom the Senate refused to acknowledge as part of the pantheon of Roman gods. The Polychronicon holds up these

26 27

See Beal (2004; 2012), and Steiner (2021). John 1:14.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

31

kings for historical scrutiny as men who were politically powerful but, essentially, spiritually powerless in comparison to Jesus. Ranulf emphasizes the history-transforming importance of the birth of Jesus, which was for him, for Trevisa and for all orthodox Christians in the Middle Ages the birth of a divine King as a human being. In the Polychronicon Ranulf records a series of extra-biblical signs and wonders that took place at the Nativity. The miracles include the upspringing of a well of oil (‘fons olei’) beyond the Tiber River from the Tavern Emeritoria28 that ran all day, the appearance of a circle around the sun (‘circulus circa solem’), and a golden statue (‘statua aurea’) that Romulus had set up in his palace that fell down.29 The falling of the ‘ymage of golde’, as Trevisa translates, is particularly significant because Romulus said it would not fall until a maid bore a child. Thus Ranulf includes this detail here as a sign confirming the Virgin Birth and Christ’s kingship: his divine power. Ranulf describes a parallel miracle, the fall of the Temple of Peace (‘templum pacis’) in Rome, noting that Saint Jerome said of this, ‘Lux orta est’ (‘Light is arisen’), believing it was a sign of the end of sodomy throughout the whole world.30 The spiritual significance of these miracles, briefly noted in the Polychronicon, is further suggested in other works by Ranulf Higden, intended as resources for preachers: the Ars componendi sermones and Distinctiones.31 In the latter of these Ranulf discusses the significance of several words that occur in this passage of the vita Christi, associating them with the scripture verses in which they occur and briefly explaining their larger meanings: miracle, fountain, oil, image, virgin(ity), temple, light. Two particularly significant words are ‘fons’ (fountain) and ‘olei’ (oil), which are briefly considered here by way of example. One of Ranulf’s listings under distinction 143 ‘fons’ (fountain) reads: Item, in fonte est fluxibilitas perpetua. Sic in Christo est eripere emanacionem in perpetuam, Gen. 2[:10], egrediens irrigabat vniuersam terram,

28

29

30 31

Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 278, 279. Trevisa inserts a note in his translation explaining the meaning of ‘Emeritoria’, namely that Roman soldiers after sixty years of age left deeds of arms and were called ‘knyʒtes of þe chyvalrie emeritoria’. Because they spent what they had at the tavern beyond the Tiber, the tavern was called the Tavern Emeritoria (p. 279). This is an example of one of Trevisa’s explanatory notes in his English translation. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 278, 279. This miracle imitates that of the statue of the Philistine god, Dagon, falling down before the Ark of the Covenant of Israel and breaking (1Samuel 5:3–4). Its golden quality recalls the Golden Calf, and thus denotes an idol and false god. For further discussion of the significance of these miracles, see Beal (2018). Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 278, 279. For discussion of the fountain of oil in the Ars componendi sermones, see Beal (2018).

32

beal

et Ysai. 58[:11]: Eris quasi fons olei. Apud Rom. 3[:24]: Est ripere in Christo, sicut in fonte communitatem profituam, quia nemini claudit gremium misericordie sue. Again, in a fountain is perpetual flowing. Thus, in Christ it is to pluck away the emanation in perpetuity, Gen. 2[:10], going out it irrigated the whole earth, and Isai. 58[:11]: ‘You shall be like … a fountain of’ oil. In Rom. 3[:25]: ‘It is to be redeemed in Christ’, just as for community profit in a fountain, because no one closes the bosom of his mercy. higden, Distinctiones, 143

With this passage providing context, or inter-text, it is possible to recognize that the miracle of the upspringing fountain of oil at Christ’s birth is significant not only because it is a miracle, but also because it is a symbol of redemption in Christ, from whom mercy flows perpetually, which profits communities and transforms individuals: ‘You shall be like … a fountain’ of oil.32 Drawing on the Gospels and Peter Comestor, Ranulf records how King Herod killed male children under two years of age in Bethlehem. Ranulf takes care to distinguish between three different Herods: Herod Ascolon (i.e., Herod the Great) who lived when Jesus was born, Herod Antipas who lived when John the Baptist was beheaded, and Herod Agrippa, the grandson of Herod the Great and the son of Aristobolus, who executed James and imprisoned Peter. The political power of Rome’s client kings is evident as is the evil way that they use it: to murder innocent babies, to martyr a prophet and a disciple, and to imprison the leader of the early Christian church. Their use of power is immediately juxtaposed with the coming to Jerusalem of the Magi, ‘þe þre kynges’33 (as Trevisa translates ‘magi’), who did not return to Herod by the same way.34 Ranulf notes that Herod killed his own sons but spared swine and that he became a proselytus, which, as Trevisa explains in a note, means that he turned away from the law of the Jews to another.35 The chapter records Herod’s own death: at age seventy, he had a strong fever and was tormented with itching; his feet were swollen, he voided worms and he stank. The physicians bathed him with oil, which did no good, and he would have killed himself with the knife he

32

33 34 35

Isaiah 58:11 (my emphasis). Notably this verse says ‘fons aquarum’ (that is, a fountain of water), not ‘fons olei’. Ranulf clearly saw special significance in the phrase ‘fons olei’, and he used it in both the Polychronicon and the Distinctiones. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 283. Cf. Matt. 2:12. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 287.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

33

used to pare his after-dinner apple, but one of his cousins killed him instead, and he uttered a great cry as he died. Ranulf tells the story of Herod’s death twice, copying a similar account from another source, which adds that Herod ordered the death of children at the time of his own mortal illness in order to make people weep who would have otherwise celebrated his demise.36 The Polychronicon further describes Herod as a book-burner, who destroyed genealogical records in the Temple to keep noblemen from claiming the rights of their heritage, though oral historians kept the knowledge intact despite him. After describing more evil deeds by Herod’s sons, the chapter concludes by noting the death of Caesar Augustus and the succession to the throne of Octavian Augustus. As the third chapter of book iv continues to relate the life of Jesus by interweaving it with myriad details from first-century history, the Emperor Octavian Augustus is presented a better ruler than king Herod. Details of his perceived goodness, in the exercise of political power, abound: Octavian was greatly loved (‘tanto amore’)37 by foreign nations who sent him ambassadors and gifts; cities were built and named after him; kings came out of their own lands to him, and they would be clothed in Roman togas (‘habitu Romano togati’)38 and run by his chariot. In other words, the Polychronicon presents him as politically powerful but benevolent, not corrupt. This is further substantiated by the fact that he would not go to war without cause, and indeed, he established the foundation of the Pax Romana.39 He was known to be merciful (‘clemens’) toward citizens and faithful (‘in amicos fidus’) to friends, knowledgeable in the arts and sciences, and eloquent in speaking.40 Drawing on Isidore of Seville, Ranulf and Trevisa note that Octavian invented the letter ‘X,’ ‘cum figure eius repraesentet crucem Christi’ (‘þe figure þerof is i-liche þe croys of Crist, þat was i-bore in his tyme’).41 The redemptive significance of this symbolism, for the Christian compiler, translator and their audience, is strongly implied. So Octavian Augustus is praised in ways that make him seem to be morally good and thus an appropriate Roman Emperor to be ruling when Jesus (who 36

37 38 39

40 41

As for the second source, Ranulf attributes his information to the 45th chapter of ‘Petrus’, who appears to be Peter Comestor, author of the Historia scholastica and the Historia evangelica, though ‘Petrus’ may mean Peter the Lombard, author of the Sentences. Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 292. Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 294. The Pax Romana, or Roman Peace, was a time of relative peace, tranquility and concord throughout the Mediterranean world during from the reign of Augustus to the reign of Marcus Aurelius (c.27 bce to 180 ce). Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 294. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 296, 297.

34

beal

is entirely good, a sign of his divine power)42 is growing up in Egypt and then Galilee. However, Ranulf explicitly observes that the emperor was not without sin, a clear contrast with Jesus, who was without sin.43 Octavian’s sinful nature is revealed by his overindulgence in wine and women (or ‘leccherie’,44 as Trevisa puts it). Yet the Romans thought their emperor so fair and attractive that they wanted to make him a god. Octavian declined to be recognized as a deity: a point in his favor. Here Ranulf inserts a comment from Augustine, who advises readers to recall the Greek acronym IXƟYΣ, standing for Greek words meaning ‘Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Savior’.45 In other words, Jesus, not Octavian, is the Son of God. That Octavian declined to be recognized as a deity is another point in his favor. Paraphrasing Martinus, Ranulf further implies Octavian might have had a revelation from heaven concerning Jesus: Illico aperto coelo vidit Caesar pulchram virginem stantem super altare, et tenere puerum in brachiis, audivitque hanc vocem: Hoc ara filii Dei est. Anon hevene opened, and Cesar sigh a faire mayden stoned upon an auʒter and holde a childe in here armes, and he herde þis voys: ‘þis is þe auʒter of Goddes sone.’ higden/trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 298, 299

After this vision, Octavian fell down on the floor of his bedchamber. The audiences of the Polychronicon are meant to see that he bowed like the Magi before the divine power of Jesus. Later Octavian causes a church dedicated to Sanctae Mariae (‘a chirche of our lady’)46 to be built, called Ara Caeli or ‘the Altar of Heaven’. He sets an example of devotion and charity to be admired, remembered and imitated. The chapter also records sayings of Octavian, and how he followed the advice of his wife Limnia and had mercy toward his enemy Cinna and made him his friend after Cinna would have betrayed and murdered him. It records how he bought a ‘psittacum’ (‘papengay’, as Trevisa translates or, in other words, a small bird) that could talk and which said to him, after the victory

42 43 44 45 46

Cf. Luke 18:19. On the sinlessness of Jesus, cf. 2Cor. 5:21; Heb. 4:15; 1 Peter 2:22; 1 John 3:5. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 297. This Greek acronym was adopted and used among Christians in the first century to identify one another during times of persecution. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 300, 301.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

35

at Actia: ‘Ave Caesar, victor, imperator!’47 It records another story about him: how Octavian was a patron of a Greek poet who often praised him without reward. The emperor made his own praise of such praises and gave it to the poet, who read it and offered to pay Caesar for it. The listeners laughed, and Caesar ordered the poet to be paid. The chapter ends with Octavian’s death and, relying on Eutropius, notes that to his people he was like God and there was no man more gracious or skillful in peace.48 The final observation appended is that the emperor taught his sons sports, like running, leaping and casting, and he made his daughters learn to spin wool and make bread, in case they should ever need to live by such arts and crafts. It might seem that the narrative has drifted far from the vita Christi at this point, but actually the Polychronicon is carefully presenting how the divine power of Jesus positively influenced Octavian Augustus, the ruler of the Roman Empire, in the first century. Not only information from Christ’s life, but also symbols (the ‘X’ and the ‘ixɵyσ’) and miracles (the vision of the Virgin Mary with the baby Jesus in her arms) are interwoven with Octavian’s story to convey two clear messages. First, the Emperor bowed down to God’s power in Christ Jesus, and second, as a result he was a better man and a better ruler, despite his faults. The presentation of Octavian’s overall moral goodness is in contrast to his foil, Tiberius Caesar, his stepson, who married his daughter and succeeded him. The fourth chapter of the fourth book of the Polychronicon shows that, unlike Octavian Augustus, Tiberius Caesar is not a good ruler but rather a contradictory character. The first quotation attributed to him is ‘Boni pastoris pecus tondere, non deglutire’ (‘it is good for the shepherd to shear his sheep, not to swallow them’),49 which suggests the limits to his intentions to use his own people, but ostensibly not abuse them. He is praised for his ability in arms and his knowledge of eloquence, but it is noted that he would appear angry with those who loved him and benevolent with those who hated him, and that the advice of counselors did not necessarily help him give better answers or make wiser decisions. He is called ‘vinolentiam’ (translated as ‘wyn drunken’ by Trevisa).50 Drawing on a conclusion from the Polycraticus both the compiler and translator of the Polychronicon agree that he was greatly to blame (‘culpabilis’)51 for many of his deeds.

47 48 49 50 51

Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 306, 307. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 308, 309. Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 310 (my translation). Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 312, 313. Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 312.

36

beal

Significantly Tiberius Caesar wanted to be worshipped as God Almighty, but the Roman Senate would not agree. By pointing out this fact in the Polychronicon, Ranulf is signaling Tiberius Caesar’s lack of humility and his desire to be a god, and thus to compete with the one true God, who, as the Incarnate God, Jesus, was living a human life under his political power. Clearly, Tiberius Ceasar differs from Octavian Augustus in this regard: his pride is his fault. Again with a penchant for providing myriad details, the Polychronicon incorporates various anecdotal stories associated with this emperor. Drawing on Josephus, the fourth chapter includes a parable about a sick man who had flies biting his wounds, but when they were waived away, complained that those flies had been full and now hungry flies would settle on him and bite him all the more—and so do newly appointed officials act toward the people subject to them, which is the moral of the story.52 Drawing on Isidore, the chapter asserts that an artifex (‘craftes man’)53 discovered the art of tempering glass to make it tough enough to be malleable, after which the emperor struck off his head, saying that gold and precious stones would be of no value if this craft was widely known. Then it is claimed that the poet Ovidius Naso died on the island of Pontus after being exiled there, ostensibly for writing his book Ars amatoria (The Art of Love), but possibly because he lay with the empress.54 These stories serve to reinforce the presentation of Tiberius Caesar as a contradictory character and a lesser man, ethically, than his predecessor. The chapter then turns back to Pontius Pilate and Herod, and therefore to events from the life of Christ, including his Passion: ‘in tempus Dominicae passionis, quando Pilatus Jesum veste alba indutum misit ad Herodem’ (‘þe tyme of Cristes passioun, whan Pilatus sente Iesus i-cloþed in white to Herodes’).55 At about this time, the emperor Tiberius Caesar was ill and wanted Jesus sent to him as a healer. Pilate had thirteen days to answer, but Jesus was already crucified. So the woman Veronica, who had placed the cloth on the face of Jesus that received its imprint, took the linen to the emperor, and when he held it, he was healed.56 Then the emperor called Pilate before him, but Pilate was wearing the robe of Jesus, without seams (‘Cristes owne kirtel’),57 so no word could be said against him, though he was called not once, but twice, and then a third

52 53 54 55 56 57

Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 314, 315. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 316, 317. On Ovid’s life and beliefs about him in the Middle Ages, see Hardie (2002), Dwyer (1989), and Martindale (1988). Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 320, 321. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 322, 323. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 323.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

37

time. Christian men counseled the emperor to take the robe from Pilate, and after this Pilate was put in prison, where he committed suicide. Key elements of the vita Christi, including the Passion, the Veronica58 and the eventual fate of Pilate, are interwoven with a narrative of redemption for the contradictory, morally compromised emperor, who is depicted as executing justice by imprisoning Pilate. The judgement of history, as presented by the Polychronicon, implies that Tiberius Caesar is a less than ideal ruler, but by juxtaposing key details, it offers up some hope for his soul in the end. If he can call for Jesus to come and heal him, if he can be healed by touching the Veronica that touched Christ despite all of his misdeeds, and if he can hold Pilate accountable for the Crucifixion of Jesus, then perhaps he is not all bad. Like other brief historical accounts interwoven with the overall narrative of the Polychronicon, this one seems to have a parabolic quality, suggesting that other morally compromised political leaders could learn from the example Tiberius Caesar. If they were to do the right things in the end, calling on Jesus for healing and performing justice in the courts, perhaps there might just be hope for them, too.59 The conclusion of the fourth chapter focuses on distinctions between the Pharisees, Sadducees and Essenes.60 Pharisees, it is noted, were devoted to the law of Moses: they dressed in rough clothing and took to fasting from meat and drink, and wore phylacteries on their foreheads and on their arms that contained little scrolls with scriptures in them. Most importantly they believed in the resurrection of the body from death to life.61 In this they differed from the Sadducees, who did not believe in resurrection. This part of the chapter

58

59

60

61

The woman is named Veronica, but the cloth with which she wiped the sweat from Christ’s face, which received the impression of his face, is also called the Veronica. The name may derive from ‘vere icon’ or ‘true image’. For discussion and analysis, see Kuryluk (1991). Ranulf Higden, John Trevisa and their medieval predecessors in the writing of history had a tendency to present historical figures as moral or immoral exemplars in a tradition stretching back to the biblical Books of Kings. The influence of this kind of historical interpretation is seen in other medieval genres, such as mirrors for princes, texts on the Seven Deadly Sins (pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth) and the Seven Heavenly Virtues (faith, hope, charity, fortitude, justice, temperance and prudence), and even in medieval conduct manuals, where pride is depicted as a vice and humility as a virtue; cf. Chaucer’s Monk’s Tale. In the Polychronicon, Tiberius Caesar is clearly associated with the vice of pride. The Polychronicon not only presents political leaders as examplars, but also musicians. On musicians as historical exemplars in the Polychronicon, see Beal (2019b). First-century sects of Judaism are described in first-century documentary evidence, including the New Testament of the Bible and Josephus’ Antiquities of the Jews. For an introductory information about Pharisees, Sadducees and Essenes, see Regev (2014). Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 324, 325.

38

beal

presents information about a first-century Jewish religious community that believed in resurrection and an early historical context for supporting the belief in the general resurrection, and thus, indirectly, belief in the specific Resurrection of Jesus. Thus these details are relevant, even though their relevance is not spelled out but left to the deduction of the audience. The chapter concludes with remarks on the asceticism of the Essenes, noting their avoidance of marriage and strict rules for avoiding work on the Sabbath. Given Ranulf’s monastic life among Benedictines, again these details are relevant, although more so for his Latinate audience, perhaps, than Trevisa’s vernacular one.

4

John’s Fingerbone and Judas’ Kiss: Revealing the Identity of Jesus in the Vita Christi of the Polychronicon

Book iv, chapter 5 of the Polychronicon, which continues the life of Christ, begins with a review of when key events at the beginning of Christ’s ministry occurred, whether dating from the first Adam or in relation to the reign of Tiberius Caesar. It presents the preaching ministry of John the Baptist, the cousin of Jesus, and tells of Christ’s Baptism on January 6th. It mentions the first miracle of Jesus: how water was turned into wine at a wedding in Cana.62 Then, drawing again on Petrus, the chapter states the meaning of Epiphania (a showing made from above as it were by a star), Theophania (a showing of God as in the baptism of Christ), and Bethania (a showing made in a house as when the water was turned into wine).63 Ranulf here inserts his own initialed comment on the meaning of Phagophania, the showing through eating, explaining that this term refers to when Jesus took fives loves and two fishes and miraculously kept on dividing them until he had fed five thousand people.64 So the Polychronicon here emphasizes the apparition (‘showing’) or revelation of Christ’s identity through the star the Three Kings followed, the baptism of Jesus that John performed, and the miracles of the water that was turned into wine and the bread and fish that fed five thousand. While the first chapter of the vita Christi implied the hiddenness of Jesus in the womb of the Virgin Mary, the fifth chapter reveals much more of the life of Jesus and thus of the identity of Christ as fully human and fully divine. This theme begins with etymology (-phania) and continues in the description of the ministry of Jesus. 62 63 64

Cf. John 2:1–12. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 334, 335. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 334–336, 335–337. On the feeding of the five thousand, cf. Matt. 14:13–21 and Luke 9:12–17.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

39

According to the Polychronicon, which is here ultimately drawing in the New Testament Gospels, the preaching ministry of Jesus lasted three whole years, beginning after his Baptism and Temptation in the wilderness for forty days. The chronicle notes specifically that on February 15th, Jesus overcame the Devil, who had, on the same day thousands of years before, overcome and supplanted the first Adam: another typological connection. The story continues by mentioning how Jesus chased the sellers out of the Temple the next Easter—which, to medieval minds like Ranulf’s and Trevisa’s, was a parallel event. The Polychronicon further records that Jesus chose his disciples Andrew, Peter, Philip and Nathaniel, and later all twelve disciples, and again, that he turned water into wine. As the Polychronicon says, according to Bede, Jesus and his disciples baptized in Judea.65 The fifth chapter then notes not only the imprisonment of John the Baptist, but also a healing that Jesus performed, and how Jesus sent his disciples out to preach, and how he himself preached the Sermon on the Mount (‘he went up in to þe hill’,66 as Trevisa translates). The text here observes differences between the ‘tres Evangelistae’ (‘þre gospellours’)67 and John the Evangelist, who is the only one to record how Jesus turned the water into wine, how Nicodemus came to Jesus by night, and how Jesus drove out the sellers who were in the Temple.68 The chapter continues by observing that John was beheaded in the ‘tertio Paschate’ (‘þridde Esterne’),69 and Jesus suffered death in the fourth Passover after the beginning of his ministry. At this point chapter 5 takes an interesting turn, focusing on extra-biblical information about the dispersal of the bodyparts of John the Baptist after his beheading. The chapter, drawing on Petrus, records that John was executed after twelve months in prison at Macheronta, which is termed a castle of Arabia. His body was buried in Samaria but his head in Jerusalem by Herod’s house. It is noted that his head and body were buried separately because Herod feared that if the two parts were reunited, John the Baptist would resurrect. Later, gentiles (‘mysbileved men’,70 according to Trevisa’s translation) scattered John’s

65 66 67 68

69 70

Ranulf ostensibly attributes this fact to Bede because it is not recorded in the Gospels that Jesus baptized anyone. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 339. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 338, 339. Cf. John 2 and 3. Note that a similar incident to the expulsion of the money changers, the Cleansing of the Temple, is observed in Mark 11:16 and Matt. 21:12, but this would have taken place at a later time in Jesus’ ministry. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 340, 341. Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 341.

40

beal

bones, but the bones were gathered together again and burned. John’s ashes were then allowed to blow away in the wind: this is identified as a kind of second martyrdom. Yet the fingerbone of John, ‘inter quae digitus ejus quo Christum monstraverat’ (‘þe finger þat Iohn shewed Crist with’),71 was rescued from among the many bones of the men of Jerusalem. Saint Tecla later brought the relic to the Alps (on the Lombardy side), and it was placed in a monastery. Still later on, it was sent to Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria. This relic of John’s fingerbone and the history of its reception and transmission from saint to monastery to bishop is symbolically important in the Polychronicon’s narrative of history.72 It is with this finger, specifically, the narrative claims (drawing on the fourth gospel) that John the Baptist pointed at Jesus when he said, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.’73 It is with this finger that John revealed the identity of Jesus. In the Polychronicon, Ranulf and Trevisa are careful to remember that revelation by including the story of the discovery of the relic of John’s fingerbone as part of the vita Christi in the Latin and English versions of their universal history of the world. For they, too, are pointing their readers to Christ and revealing his true identity by such remembrances. The chapter ends by noting that the head of John the Baptist was also recovered and brought to the Emperor Theodocius in Constantinople. Like John’s fingerbone it was later translated, this time to Amiens in France. There it is shown, ostenditur (‘i-schewed’),74 to pilgrims. The revelation of the identity of Jesus by John the Baptist is paired with another revelation in the sixth chapter of the vita Christi: that of Judas, who betrayed with a kiss the identity of Jesus to the soldiers who came to arrest him. The kiss, a sign of greeting and friendship, was inverted in its usual social meaning. It led to Christ’s capture in the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus had been praying with his disciples, and so to his torture, false trial and eventually, crucifixion.75 The chapter begins by recalling the death of Jesus, which is dated to the month of March, when there was an eclipse of the sun, stars were seen in heaven and an earthquake occurred.76 Ranulf inserts his own, initialed note

71 72 73 74 75 76

Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 342, 343. On the importance of relics in medieval Christian devotional practices, see Brown (1981). John 1:29. Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 344, 345. Matt. 26–27. Cf. Matt. 27.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

41

to say that stones were also cloven in two when Christ died.77 At this time the Jewish priests in the Temple heard a voice declaring they will pass out of their seats of authority. Then James the Lesser was ordained and led the Church in Jerusalem for thirty years, even singing the very first mass. After noting the appointment of seven deacons, the Polychronicon, drawing on Eusebius, notes that an evil one who was named Nichol prostituted his own wife, supposedly to show his own lack of jealousy: this is apparently a way of foreshadowing the discussion of Judas’ betrayal (though of course Judas’ kiss happened, chronologically, before Nichol’s pandering). Here Ranulf inserts another of his initialed notes, in which he explains the various surnames of James the Less (who is also called the son of Alpheus and the brother of our Lord), and then explains why Judas kissed Jesus: Frater Domini, quia sanctitate et facie ei Dominus simillimus fuerat, adeo ut plerique in eorum specie fallerentur. Unde et Judas dedit Judaeis signum osculi ne ipsi in captione Christi fallerentur. Oure Lorde his broþer, ffor he was most liche to our Lorde in holynesse and in face, so þat meny men were begiled in þe likenesse of hem tweyne. And þerfore Iudas ʒaf þe Iewes a signe of a cosse lest þey were desceyved in þe takyng of Crist. higden/trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 348, 349

The compiler, Ranulf, and his English translator, Trevisa, thus both observe that James the Less, the brother of Jesus, was like Jesus in holiness and in appearance: this is why Judas used the ‘signum osculi’ (‘sign of a kiss’)78 to identify him. Then the text notes that James the Greater fasted from Friday until Sunday when Jesus rose from the dead. So in a few brief sentences, the culmination of the earthly ministry of Jesus in his Crucifixion and Resurrection is related in the Polychronicon. The vita Christi seems to have come to an end. However, the sixth chapter continues. As a kind of postscript to Christ’s life, and to show Judas as a foil to John the Baptist, the chapter relates an apocryphal life of Judas Iscariot. The Polychronicon specifies that the life-story of Judas comes from a certain history, but the author of that

77

78

Higden, Polychronicon, iv, 346. Ranulf is apparently thinking of Matt. 27:51–52: ‘At that moment the curtain of the Temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.’ Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 348 (my translation).

42

beal

history is unknown: ‘historia quadam, licet apocrypha’ (‘a storie, þeyʒ þe auctor þerof be unknowe’).79 This apochryphal vita focuses on aspects of Judas that led him to become the betrayer of his friend, teacher and Savior, Jesus. In the Polychronicon the apocryphal life of Judas conflates motifs from the stories of Moses and Oedipus. Judas is presented as the son of Ruben and his wife Cibora, residents of Jerusalem. One night, after having sex with her husband, Cibora dreamed that she bore a wicked son who would betray his own people. The parents named him Judas when he was born, and they planned to kill him rather than raise him to destroy is own people. So they put him in a fiscella (‘a litel cribbe i-schape as a litel bote’, as Trevisa translates)80 and put him out to sea. He came to the island of Scarioth, which is why he was later known as Judas Iscariot. Somewhat like the story of Moses in Exodus, the baby was found by the queen of the land, who took him in, pretending he was her own.81 However, she later conceived a biological child of her own with the king and gave birth to a son. Judas harassed his younger brother and often made him weep, which the queen saw. Beating Judas did not change his behavior. When it was revealed at last that Judas was not the king’s son, Judas killed his younger brother and fled back to Jerusalem. There he served Pilate. In the course of time Pilate looked out of his palace at the apple orchard of Ruben, the father of Judas. Pilate liked apples and told Judas to go and get him some. In the process of doing so Judas got into an altercation with Ruben, took up a stone and struck him on the head, killing him. Judas fled the scene, but later Pilate gave to Judas the property—and the wife, Cibora—of Ruben. So Judas is depicted as killing his father and marrying his mother, just as Oedipus did.82 Wise Cibora counseled Judas to follow the Christ, despite his murders and their incest, and so his trespasses could be forgiven. After this Judas became a disciple of Jesus and his procurator. Thus the apocryphal life depicts Judas as experiencing a time of redemption before he ultimately betrayed Jesus. At this point in the narrative the compiler and translator note how Matthias was chosen to replace Judas among the Twelve. The chapter then relates key events in early Church history: the coming of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost,

79

80 81 82

Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 352, 353. On the apocryphal life of Judas in the Middle Ages, see Rand (1913), Baum (1916), Lehmann (1929), Edmunds (1985), Mize (2010), Hawk (2018), and Hawk and Mamyan (2020). Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, iv, 354, 355. Cf. Exodus 1. On the life of Moses and its reception in the Middle Ages, see Beal (2014). Sophocles authored the tragic play Oedipus Rex (also known as Oedipus Tyrannus) ca. 429.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

43

the missionizing of the Apostles, the making of the Apostles’ Creed and the stoning to death of Steven, who was the first Christian martyr.83 It describes Peter and Paul, the foremost leaders of the Christian Church: how Peter held a Bishop’s See in Antioch, singing masses and saying the Paternoster, and how Paul was converted to Christianity. The chapter also relates key events in Roman political history: how Tiberius Caesar died, after which Gaius became Emperor, following various disputes. The sixth chapter concludes by observing that Kynbelynus, the King of the Britains, died, leaving behind two sons, Guyderius and Averagus. Guyderius took the kingdom, but he withheld tribute from Rome, and so the Romans were provoked against him. The myriad details from biblical and post-biblical sources enables the Polychronicon to present a unique life of Christ in the context of a larger narrative of history. It proved influential on later English readers, writers and printers, particularly William Caxton.

5

Poetry and Prose: The Influence of the Vita Christi of the Polychronicon on the Stanzaic Life of Christ, Trinity College ms D29, Huntington Manuscript 144 and William Caxton’s Printed Edition

The life of Christ in the Polychronicon can be characterized as a medieval search for the historical Jesus. For Ranulf Higden and John Trevisa this did not mean divesting the Savior of his divine qualities as the Christ, but rather affirming them along with his humanity, in accordance with the doctrine of hypostatic union.84 In the Latin compilation and English translation respectively, Ranulf and Trevisa showed how the life of Jesus was situated chronologically in time and how it affected other people and the natural world. Thus the account of Christ’s life in Book iv, chapters 1–6 of the Polychronicon, emphasizes Jesus’ divine power demonstrated through supernatural miracles and over earthly kings. Not surprisingly, given Ranulf’s monastic vocation as a Benedictine, the vita Christi is carefully constructed and related in a way that invites deeper meditation on Jesus, progressing from an emphasis on the hiddenness of the Christchild in the womb of the Virgin Mary to a revelation of the Redeemer through his ministry and the culmination of that ministry in the Passion. The Poly-

83 84

On these events, cf. the Acts of the Apostles in the New Testament. See note 18 above on ‘hypostatic union.’

44

beal

chronicon presents a plethora of details, many with metaphoric, symbolic or even allegorical resonance, in order to welcome readers to move from literal, historical understandings of Jesus to allegorical ones: in other words, to invite their devotion to Jesus. Earthly rulers in Jesus’ time, both kings and emperors, are described in detail in these chapters in order to be presented to the readers as foils for the supreme Ruler of heaven and earth, Jesus: the God-Man. Likewise John the Baptist and Judas Iscariot, both of whom recognized and revealed Jesus to others, are presented as foils for one another and as models for readers to choose between in their own spiritual pilgrimage. Juxtaposition of detail, not explicit explanation, accomplishes this. The vita Christi in the Polychronicon proved to be influential after its composition and translation. While it can be contrasted with other vitae, which follow the Gospel accounts more closely and fulsomely without particular concern for the vast historical panorama with which Ranulf and Trevisa engage (e.g., Nicolas Love’s Mirror of the Blessed Life of Jesus Christ), nevertheless it proved popular not only among those interested in history, but those practicing devotion, as can be seen by the continuations and offshoots it later inspired. Among these are the poem called the Stanzaic Life of Christ, the prose biblical chronicle The History of the Old Testament, contained in Oxford, Trinity College ms D29, and the religious miscellany, Huntington Manuscript 144.85 Fifteenth-century copies of William Caxton’s printed edition of the Polychronicon, in which Caxton modernized Trevisa’s Middle English and to which he added an eighth book of his own composition, were at times used devotionally as well. The Stanzaic Life of Christ was likely compiled by a monk of St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester. If not written by Ranulf himself, it was written by one of his contemporaries in the fourteenth century. It was known by the writers of the Chester Mystery Cycle of plays, which date to the fourteenth century, and the original dialect is from the West Midlands, so the poem’s date and place of origin are fairly certain.86 It appears in British Library mss Harley 3909, Additional 38666 and Harley 2250, which all date to the fifteenth century. The narrative poem combines two sources—the Legenda Aurea of Jacobus de Voragine and books i and iv of the Polychronicon—to produce its versified vita Christi.87 It is an important early vernacular literary source directly influenced by the Polychronicon, in proximity to its original compiler, Ranulf. It is called the ‘stanzaic’ because it is made up of quatrains of Middle English verse, rhym85 86 87

On the latter two sources, see Beal (2012). For the limits of influence on the Chester Cycle, see Wilson (1931). See Foster (1916).

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

45

ing ababacac or ababcbcb; one rhyme is often carried through two stanzas. It is a macronic text, with Latin headings and sometimes a few lines in Latin to be translated (as at lines 76, 148, 700, 708, 872, etc.). Unsurprisingly it contains Latin quotations from the Vulgate or the Church Fathers (usually followed by an English translation). As Foster remarks in her introduction to the Early English Text Society edition, the Stanzaic Life contains a prologue that implies that a layman unfamiliar with Latin saw an account of Christ’s life, likely in the Latin Polychronicon, and asked to have a trustworthy English version: A worthy wyght wylned at me Sertayn þyngus for to showe, Þat in Latyn wrytun saw he, In Englissh tonge, for to knowe Of Ihesu Christes Natiuite And his werkus on a rowe, To the whiche by good Auctorite He myghte triste & fully knowe Stanzaic Life of Christ, lines 9–16

Foster provides additional evidence from the poem that makes the poet’s Latinity and the anticipated audience’s English vernacularity readily apparent.88 The Stanzaic Life is a translation, for the purpose of devotion, and more specifically, ‘The result [the poem itself] looks like a translation of the Legenda Aurea with insertions from the Polychronicon’, ‘but nowhere does he [the poet] name these two compilations, although he uses them most extensively of all.’89 The poet uses the Polychronicon at three major points in the Stanzaic Life: the beginning of the poem, the discussion of Jesus’ boyhood and events from Jesus’ ministry. Exact parallels with the Polychronicon are evident in the poem, including: 1) a date stated in terms of the emperor’s reign and Christ’s life with a summary of events in that year; 2) brief characterizations of Octavian and Tiberius and notable anecdotes, including 3) the invention of the letter x; 4) Tiberius’ appointment of procurators; 5) how the man was treated who found a

88 89

See Stanzaic Life, ll. 19–31, 1173–1176, 3465–3468, 5564–5568, 7150–7152, 8801–8804, 9123– 9128. Foster (1926), xvii and xx.

46

beal

process for making glass malleable; 6) the ending of Ovid’s life; and 7) insertions in the poem’s Purification section about Melchizedek and the naming of Jerusalem (probably taken from the first and second books of the Polychronicon). Foster observes that the version of the Polychronicon used was not Trevisa’s Middle English translation, but supposes a Latin exemplar as the source, a version that may have contained more information in the vita Christi than is printed in the Rolls Series edition. She notices British Library ms Royal 13 E.1, which gives additional detail on the Annunciation, Visit to Elizabeth, Stable at Bethlehem and Christ’s Temptation in the Wilderness, and proposes a similar manuscript may have been the source. Like the Stanzaic Life, Oxford, Trinity College D29 shows the influence of the Polychronicon and was intended for use as a devotional book. It contains the unique copy of The History of the Old Testament, a chronicle that situates the Old Testament in historical context. Edward Donald Kennedy describes the chronicle as extant in a single, late-fifteenth century manuscript (Trinity College, Oxford D29) of 226 folios. In prose, not verse, it conveys an account of Old Testament biblical history from Adam to Sadoch. It draws not only on the Bible, but on biblical legend, much of it from the first and second books of Trevisa’s Middle English translation of the Polychronicon, which appear to have been drawn from William Caxton’s edition of 1482.90 As Kennedy’s remarks show, The History of the Old Testament was most probably derived from Caxton’s edition of the Polychronicon. In this fifteenth-century manuscript chronicle, the Polychronicon is standing in lieu of a direct translation of the Vulgate. The chronicle is a testament to the amount of biblical material Trevisa made available in English in the Polychronicon and to the wide circulation the book attained when Caxton printed it. In the case of Huntington Manuscript 144, the Polychronicon extracts are part of a larger miscellany of religious devotion (rather than a new, Bible-based chronicle, like Oxford, Trinity College D29). The extracts are preceded by William Lichfield’s Compleynte betwene God and Man, Lydgate’s How Merci and Pees, Ryghtwisnes and Trouthe disputyd for the Redempciun of Mankynde, and a version of Christ’s Passion and Resurrection. The Polychronicon extracts from Book iv then appear, and these are a life of Pilate, a genealogy of the Virgin Mary, a life of Judas Iscariot, the making of the Creed by the apostles in Jerusalem, the Epiphany and Christ’s baptism and John the Baptist’s beheading, and the siege and destruction of Jerusalem after Christ’s Passion.91 In hm 144 the

90 91

Kennedy (1993: 2662). On Oxford, Trinity College D29, see also Gillhammer (2020; 2022). Dutschke et al. (1989: 1, 198–199).

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

47

Polychronicon extracts focus on Christological concerns, and the Polychronicon is being read for its biblical content. The necessity for using the Polychronicon devotionally, when the Bible would otherwise be expected to be the book to inspire devotion, was caused, in part, by the Constitutions of Arundel, which prohibited the ownership of English Bibles without special permission by ecclesiastical authorities.92 So if fifteenthcentury readers wanted to meditate on the life of Christ in their own native tongue, because they could not do so in Latin, they had to search for accounts of Christ’s life outside the biblical Gospels. Caxton gave his readers such access through his printed edition of the Polychronicon: he gave them that, and, as Ranulf and Trevisa intended, a whole lot more, including a medieval understanding of the historical context of the life of Jesus and a picture of the way his life progressed from a hidden place to a place of revelation of his identity as God and Man.

Acknowledgements I express my sincere thanks to Piotr Gorecki, Professor of History (University of California, Riverside), and the members of the California Medieval History Seminar for their peer review and extensive discussion of this chapter in our seminar meeting in February 2022 as well as to Erik Kooper and Sjoerd Levelt, the editors of this volume, and the publisher’s anonymous peer reviewers.

Bibliography Primary Sources Bede. Ecclesiastical History of the English People. Ed. and trans. Bertram Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969; rpt. 1998. Bede. On the Reckoning of Time. pl 90. Paris, 1862. Bede. On the Reckoning of Time. Ed. C.W. Jones. ccsl 123B, 1977. Both editions available online: http://www.nabkal.de/beda.html (accessed 20 January 2022). Bede. On the Reckoning of Time. Trans. Faith Willis. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999.

92

Watson (1995).

48

beal

Biblia Sacra iuxta Vulgatam Versionem. 2 vols. Ed. Bonifatius Fischer osb et al. Stuttgart: Württembergische Bibelanstalt, 1969; rpt. 1994. Casale, Umbertino da. Arbor Vita Crucifixae Iesu. Venice, 1485; repr. Turin: Bottega d’Erasmo, 1961. Higden, Ranulf. Polychronicon. Trans. John Trevisa. 9 vols. Ed. Churchill Babington and J.R. Lumby. Rolls Series. London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1865–1886; repr. Kraus Reprint. Wiesbaden: Lessingdruckerei, 1964. The volumes of this edition are digitized and available online at the Internet Archive library and Google Books at: https://archive.org/search.php?query=polychronicon (accessed 20 January 2022) and https://books.google.com/books?id=KMlCAAAAYAAJ&printsec=frontcover&d q=Ranulf+Higden+Polychronicon+Volume+4&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwil46G o06DXAhUEx2MKHXL7AhQQ6AEIKTAA#v=onepage&q=Ranulf%20Higden%20P olychronicon%20Volume%204&f=false (accessed 20 January 2022). Referred to as Higden/Trevisa, Polychronicon, followed by the volume number in Roman, and the page numbers in Arabic. Higden, Ranulf. Ars Componendi Sermones of Ranulf Higden, O.S.B. Ed. Margaret Jennings and Sally A. Wilson. Davis Medieval Texts and Studies 6. Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1991. Higden, Ranulf. Ranulf Higden’s Distinctiones. Ed. Eugene Crook. Dallas Medieval Texts and Studies, 2022. https://dallasmedievaltexts.org/online‑editions/distinctiones/. Stanzaic Life of Christ: Compiled from Higden’s Polychronicon and the Legenda Aurea. Ed. F.A. Foster. eets, os 166. Oxford: oup, 1926. Trevisa, John. ‘Trevisa’s Original Prefaces on Translation: A Critical Edition.’ Ed. Ronald Waldron. In Kennedy et al. (1988). 285–299.

Secondary Literature Baum, Paull Franklin (1916). ‘The Mediaeval Legend of Judas Iscariot.’pmla 31: 481–632. Beal, Jane (2004). ‘Mapping Identity in John Trevisa’s English Polychronicon: Chester, Cornwall, and the Translation of English National Identity.’ In Fourteenth-Century England. Ed. W.M. Ormrod. Woodbridge: Boydell Press. 67–82. Beal, Jane (2012). John Trevisa and the English Polychronicon. asmar 37. Turnhout: Brepols. Beal, Jane, ed. (2014). Illuminating Moses from the Exodus to the Renaissance. Commentaria: Sacred Texts and their Commentaries, Jewish, Christian and Islamic, 4. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Beal, Jane (2016). ‘Translating Caedmon’s Miracle in the Chronicles of the Venerable Bede, Ranulf Higden, and John Trevisa.’ In Translating the Past: Essays on Medieval Literature in Honor of Marijane Osborn. Ed. Jane Beal and Mark Bradshaw Busbee. mrts 416. Tempe: acmrs, 2012. 61–80; repr. in Trudeau (2016). 170–180. Beal, Jane (2018). ‘Preaching and History: The Audience of Ranulf Hidgen’s Ars componendi sermones and Polychronicon.’ Medieval Sermon Studies 62: 17–28.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

49

Beal, Jane, ed. (2019a). Illuminating Jesus in the Middle Ages. Commentaria: Sacred Texts and their Commentaries, Jewish, Christian and Islamic, 12. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Beal, Jane (2019b). ‘The Idea of Music in the Latin Polychronicon of Ranulf Higden and the English Translation of John Trevisa.’ The Medieval Chronicle 12: 38–58. Brown, Peter (1981). The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity. The Haskell Lectures on History of Religions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Brown, Peter (1998). ‘Higden’s Britain.’ In Medieval Europeans: Studies in Ethnic Identity and National Identity in Medieval Europe. Ed. Alfred Smyth. Basingstoke: Palgrave MacMillan. 103–118. Clark, M.J. (2016). The Making of the Historia scholastica, 1150–1200. Studies and Texts, 198. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies. Dutschke, Conseulo W., et al. (1989). Guide to Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts of the Huntington Library. 2 vols. San Marino, CA: Huntington Library. 1: 198–199. Dwyer, Richard A. (1989). ‘Ovid in the Middle Ages.’ In Dictionary of the Middle Ages. Vol. ix. Ed. Joseph Strayer. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1982–1989. 3312–3314. Edmunds, Lowell (1985). Oedipus: The Ancient Legend and Its Later Analogues. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins up. Edwards, A.S.G. (1980). ‘The Influence and Audience of the Polychronicon: Some Observations.’ Proceedings of the Leeds Philosophical and Literary Society 17: 113–119. Edwards, A.S.G. (1995). ‘Geography and Illustration in Higden’s Polychronicon.’ In Art into Life: Collected Papers from the Kresge Art Museum Medieval Symposia. Ed. Carol Garrett Fisher and Kathleen Scott. Lansing: Michigan State Press, 1995. 95–113. Foster, F.A. (1926). See Stanzaic Life of Christ. Fowler, David (1995). The Life and Times of John Trevisa, Medieval Scholar. Seattle: University of Washington Press. Galloway, Andrew (1999). ‘Writing History in England.’ In The Cambridge History of Medieval English Literature. Ed. David Wallace. Cambridge: cup; repr. (2002) with addenda. 255–283. Galloway, Andrew (2003). ‘Latin England.’ In Imagining a Medieval English Nation. Ed. Kathryn Lavezzo. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003. 41–95; repr. in Trudeau (2016). 122–148. Gillhammer, Cosima (2020). ‘Non-Wycliffite Bible Translation in Oxford, Trinity College, 29 and Universal History Writing in Late-Medieval England.’ Anglia 138: 649– 672. Gillhammer, Cosima (2022). ‘Fifteenth-Century Compilation Methods: The Case of Oxford, Trinity College, ms 29.’ The Review of English Studies 73: 20–41. Given-Wilson, Chris (2004). Chronicles: The Writing of History in Medieval England. London and New York: Hambledon and London Press. Hanna, Ralph, iii (1989). ‘Sir Thomas Berkeley and his Patronage.’ Speculum 64: 878– 916.

50

beal

Hardie, Philip, ed. (2002). The Cambridge Companion to Ovid. Cambridge: cup. Hawk, Brandon W. (2018). ‘The Literary Contexts and Early Transmission of the Latin Life of Judas.’ Journal of Medieval Religious Cultures 44: 60–76. Hawk, Brandon W., and Mari Mamyan (2020). ‘The Life of Judas.’ In New Testament Apocrypha: More Noncanonical Scriptures. Volume 2. Ed. Tony Burke. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. 208–222. Hicks, M.A. (1995). Bastard Feudalism. London: Longman. Hudson, Anne (1998). The Premature Reformation: Wycliffite Texts and Lollard History. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Hudson, Anne (2003). Lollards and their Books. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Hudson, Anne (2008). Studies in the Transmission of Wyclif’s Writings. Farnham: Ashgate. Hudson, Anne (2015). Doctors in English: A Study of the Wycliffite Gospel Commentaries. Liverpool: Liverpool up. Jennings, Margaret (1976). ‘Monks and the Artes praedicandi in the Time of Ranulf Higden.’ Revue Benedictine 86: 119–128. Kelly, John (1964). The Athanasian Creed. The Paddock Lectures for 1962–1963. New York: Harper & Row. Kennedy, Edward Donald, Ronald A. Waldron and J.S. Wittig, eds. (1988). Medieval English Studies Presented to George Kane. Woodbridge: St. Edmundsbury Press. Kennedy, Edward Donald, ed. (1993). Chronicles and Other Historical Writing. Vol. 8 of A Manual of the Writings in Middle English, 1050–1500. Gen. ed. Jonathan Burke Severs, Albert E. Hartung and Peter G. Beidler. Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1967–2005. Kuryluk, Ewa (1991). Veronica and her Cloth: History, Symbolism, and Structure of a True Image. London: Blackwell Publishers. Lehmann, Paul (1929). ‘Judas Ischarioth in der lateinischen Legendenüberlieferung des Mittelalters.’ Studi medievali n.s. 2: 289–346. Luscombe, David. ‘The Place of Peter Comestor in the History of Medieval Theology.’ In Pierre le Mangeur ou Pierre de Troyes, maître du xiie siècle. Ed. Gilbert Dahan. Turnhout: Brepols, 27–45. Martindale, Charles, ed. (1988). Ovid Renewed: Ovidian Influences on Literature and Art from the Middle Ages to the Twentieth Century. Cambridge: cup. Matheson, Lister (1985). ‘Printer and Scribe: Caxton, the Polychronicon, and the Brut.’ Speculum 60: 593–614. McKisack, May. (1959). The Fourteenth Century. Oxford: oup. McNamer, Sarah. (2010). Affective Meditation and the Invention of Medieval Compassion. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Mize, Britt (2010). ‘Working With the Enemy: The Harmonizing Tradition and the New Utility of Judas Iscariot in Thirteenth Century England.’ Journal of Medieval Religious Cultures 36: 68–110.

a medieval search for the historical jesus?

51

Murphy, James J. (1974). Rhetoric in the Middle Ages. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Patterson, Paul J. (2019). ‘Translation Debates and Lay Accessibility in the Meditationes Vitae Christi and Middle English Lives of Christ.’ In Beal (2019a). 310–323. Rand, E.K. (1913). ‘Mediaeval Lives of Judas Iscariot.’ In Anniversary Papers by Colleagues and Pupils of George Lyman Kittredge. Boston: Ginn & Co. 305–316. Regev, Eyal (2014). ‘Jewish Sects.’ In Oxford Bibliographies. https://www.oxfordbibliogra phies.com/view/document/obo‑9780195393361/obo‑9780195393361‑0186.xml (accessed 20 January 2022). doi: 10.1093/OBO/9780195393361-0186. Somerset, Fiona. (1998). Clerical Discourse and Lay Audience in Late Medieval England. Cambridge Studies in Medieval Literature 37. Cambridge: cup. Smalley, Beryl (1964). The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages. 2nd ed. University of Notre Dame Press. Spencer, Leith (1993). English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Steiner, Emily (2005). ‘Radical Historiography: Langland, Trevisa, and the Polychronicon.’ Studies in the Age of Chaucer 27: 171–211. Steiner, Emily (2021). John Trevisa’s Information Age: Knowledge and the Pursuit of Literature, ca. 1400. Oxford: oup. Taylor, John (1996). The Universal Chronicle of Ranulf Higden. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Tonry, Kathleen (2012). ‘Reading History in Caxton’s Polychronicon.’ Journal of English and Germanic Philology 111: 169–198. Trudeau, Walter, ed. (2016). Ranulf Higden. Classical and Medieval Literature Criticism 179. Farmington Hills: Gale Cenage Learning. Tuchman, Barbara. (1978). A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous Fourteenth Century. New York: Ballantine Books. Waldron, Ronald (1988). ‘Trevisa’s Original Prefaces on Translation: A Critical Edition.’ In Kennedy et al. (1988). 285–299. Waldron, Ronald (2001). ‘The Mind of John Trevisa.’ Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall: 9–27. Waters, Claire (2004). Angels and Earthly Creatures: Preaching, Performance, and Gender in the Later Middle Ages. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Watson, Nicholas (1995). ‘Censorship and Cultural Change in Late-Medieval England: Vernacular Theology, the Oxford Translation Debate, and Arundel’s Constitutions of 1409.’ Speculum 70: 822–864. Wilson, Robert (1931). ‘The “The Stanzaic Life of Christ” and the Chester Plays.’ Studies in Philology 28: 413–432.

3 Fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale de la seconde moitié du treizième siècle Abraham David

Résumé In the present article I have tried to analyze the remnants of a different version of the Provençal list which I found in a Hebrew manuscript and published more than forty years ago. These two lists show us something about internal Jewish life in the Provence and Languedoc in a short period between 1167 and the middle of the thirteenth century. It appears that the Provençal list does not reflect the original work but is an eclectic composition which was edited later.

Le Shevet Yehudah, ouvrage composé par Salomon Ibn Verga contient plusieurs récits de persécutions, principalement des communautés juives européennes au Moyen-Age.1 La première édition a été publiée par le fils de l’auteur, Joseph Ibn Verga2 à Andrinople en 1554, puis à Sabbioneta en 1567.3 L’éditeur a ajouté un supplément à cette seconde édition, une courte chronique hébraïque provençale sous forme d’écrit annalistique (ci-après: liste provençale), comme il l’écrit dans sa brève préface: 1 Je suis très reconnaissant à ma bonne amie Mme Sarah Weiss d’avoir traduit cet article de l’anglais vers le français. Je remercie également Monsieur Laurent Héricher, Conservateur général, Chef du service des manuscrits orientaux de la BnF, qui m’a fourni une reproduction du feuillet du manuscrit, téléchargée à partir de Gallica. Une édition annotée du Shevet Yehudah par A. Shohet, avec une courte introduction par Y. Baer, a paru à Jérusalem en 1947. Quelques études et analyses de ce texte ont été publiées dans le passé, mais de nombreux points du texte restent obscurs. Fritz Baer a été le chercheur pionnier pour ce texte, voir Baer (1936, et 1935). Voir aussi son introduction au Shevet Yehudah, édition Shohet. L’étude la plus récente du Shevet Yehudah est celle, importante, de Jeremy Cohen (2017). 2 Joseph Ibn Verga est né en Espagne et s’exila au Portugal en 1492 d’où il s’enfuit lors des événements tragiques de 1506. Il s’établit à Salonique, puis séjourna à Constantinople quelque temps, où il occupa un poste rabbinique. En 1540 il s’installa à Andrinople où il composa son ouvrage Sheerit Yosef, un traité sur les méthodes d’interprétation talmudique publié en 1554. A son sujet, voir Meir Benayahu (1971–1977). 3 Voir Benayahu (1971–1977: 255–257).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_004

fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale

53

Après que ce petit texte ait été imprimé, j’ai trouvé en la possession du grand érudit R. Shem Tov Sanzolo4 un livret qui rapporte des persécutions dans les royaumes d’Edom5 et quelques malheurs arrivés là-bas à nos pères. J’ai abrégé et rassemblé ce qui m’a semblé convenir en un mémorial pour les Juifs.6 Cette liste de Joseph Ibn Verga a été imprimée dans les éditions postérieures du Shevet Yehudah. Elle contient de courtes informations sur la vie juive dans le sud de la France, en Provence et dans le Languedoc pendant la période s’étendant de 1167 au milieu du 13ème siècle (dans les sources médiévales juives les deux régions étaient appelées Provence). A cette période les Juifs y étaient établis dans de nombreuses villes, petites et grandes. Il ne fait aucun doute que l’auteur anonyme de cette chronique a résidé dans l’une de ces localités. Notons qu’une petite partie des informations de cette liste comporte des renseignements généraux sur quelques gouverneurs et membres du clergé (ci-après: liste provençale). La plupart des sujets de la chronique provençale sont confirmés au moins partiellement par d’autres textes. Par contre, une petite partie des informations reste totalement ignorée d’autres sources. Cette chronique a d’abord été étudiée par le plus grand historien juif du xixe siècle Heinrich Graetz, qui a publié à nouveau le texte hébreu avec sa traduction en allemand. Elle figure en appendice dans son vaste ouvrage historique: Geschichte der Juden von ältesten Zeiten bis auf die Gegenwart.7 Les paragraphes de ce texte ont été numérotés par Graetz et comportent trente sujets. Depuis, quelques autres chercheurs ont traité du texte entier ou de certains sujets, tels Isidore Loeb,8 Azriel Shohet,9 Abraham David,10 Joseph Schatzmiller11 et

4

5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Il semble qu’il soit identifié avec R. Shem Tov fils d’Abraham Samsolo. Abraham était un réfugié ibérique d’Espagne et du Portugal qui s’établit à Salonique et composa quelques écrits hébraïques conservés en manuscrits à la bibliothèque de l’université de Leyde (Warn 56). Un poème de Shem Tov louant les écrits de son père y est inclus, fol. 72r; voir Benayahu (1971–1977: 256). Dénomination pour la Chrétienté, au Moyen-Age. Shevet Yehudah, éd. Shohet, 146. Graetz (1861), Appendix i, 396–409. L’immense ouvrage de Graetz a été aussi traduit en hébreu par Shaul Pinehas Rabbinowitz (1907–1908). Loeb (1888: 75–76). Shevet Yehudah, éd. Shohet, 146–149, 221–224. David (1979). Schatzmiller (1985).

54

david

d’autres. Certains d’entre eux ont suivi Graetz, d’autres ont ajouté des débats selon leurs découvertes ou leurs différentes interprétations. Pour autant que je sache, il n’existe pas d’autre version de ce texte en manuscrit hébraïque. Cette liste est-elle le texte complet tel qu’il aurait été rédigé par l’auteur anonyme, ou bien s’agit-il d’un texte éclectique édité par quelqu’un d’autre qui aurait choisi ou omis des détails? La réponse à ce problème a été trouvée il y a plus de quarante ans, lorsque j’ai découvert un petit texte annalistique provençal de huit lignes seulement, qui inclut six sujets portant sur la même période.12 Cette petite liste (ci-après: liste courte), est écrite à la fin d’un manuscrit contenant le commentaire de R. Levi, fils de Gershom (RaLBaG) sur le Sefer ha-Mofet d’Averroes (Ibn Rushd), probablement par son propriétaire, et se trouvant à la Bibliothèque Nationale à Paris (cod. Heb. 961). Trois sujets sur les six sont les mêmes que ceux inclus dans la liste provençale. Deux d’entre eux comportent de légères différences, mais le style est similaire. Le troisième de la liste courte recèle des lacunes. Trois autres sujets de cette liste n’apparaissent pas dans la liste provençale. Il est certain que ces deux textes avaient une source commune. Ainsi, notre conclusion est que la liste provençale est une œuvre éclectique. Dans chacune des listes se trouvent des sujets qui ne figurent pas dans l’autre. Le fameux historien Abraham Zacut, un exilé d’Espagne (1452–1514) connaissait la liste courte, car il mentionne dans son ouvrage historique Sefer Yuhasin13 deux sujets de cette dernière, exactement du même style, comme nous le verrons plus loin. Passons en revue les six sujets qui n’ont pas été édités de façon chronologique. A. ‘En l’an 4998 [de la Création]14 le livre Mishneh Torah de Maïmonide a été apporté à Lunel.’ Cet immense ouvrage halakhique est le code de lois juif le plus important, depuis le début du Moyen Âge jusqu’à nos jours. Il a été composé par Maïmonide en 1177 en Égypte et a été diffusé dans tout le monde juif.15

12 13

14 15

Publiée par David (1979). Abraham Zacut, Sefer Yuhasin (ci-après, Zacut, Sefer Yuhasin). R. Abraham Zacut était un scientifique expulsé d’Espagne vers le Portugal en 1492, d’où il s’enfuit en 1497. Après avoir erré en Afrique du Nord, il s’établit à Jérusalem en 1513, un an avant d’y décéder. Il a beaucoup été écrit à son sujet, sur son ouvrage historique Sefer Yuhasin, ainsi que sur ses autres travaux. Une série d’études a été publiée récemment dans le périodique Hispania Judaica Bulletin 13 (2017), commémorant le 500ème anniversaire de sa mort. Voir aussi, David (2020). En 1197/8. Une monographie sur ce vaste code a été publiée par Isadore Twersky (1980). La version en hébreu est sortie plus tard, Twersky (1991).

fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale

B.

C.

D.

16 17 18 19 20 21

55

L’apparition du Mishneh Torah à Lunel, près de Montpellier (dans le Languedoc) a été un événement impressionnant en Provence car cette région était un centre spirituel juif important à cette période.16 Toutefois, immédiatement après sa diffusion, Maïmonide a été critiqué par l’un des plus grands sages provençaux R. Abraham, fils de R. David de Posquières, mort en 1199. ‘En l’an 4937 [de la Création]17 le livre Mishneh Torah de Maïmonide a été écrit et il est mort.’ La source de cette date est la préface de Maïmonide à cet ouvrage: ‘Jusqu’à ce moment, précisément la huitième année après mille et cent [années] depuis la destruction du Temple,18 et c’est l’année quatre mille neuf cent et trente sept de la Création.’19 Les trois derniers mots, ‘et il est mort’, dans cette phrase ne sont pas clairs, car l’auteur ou le scribe a omis le nom de la personne décédée. Mais il ne s’agit certainement pas de celle de Maïmonide puisqu’il est mort bien plus tard, à la fin de 1204. ‘En l’an 4982 [de la Création]20 un navire sombra où se trouvaient des sages et des hommes avisés de notre peuple.’ L’endroit de cet événement tragique est inconnu. Ce malheur est mentionné également dans la liste provençale: ‘En l’an 4952 [de la Création] une grande flotte sombra. Il y avait là plusieurs grands sages juifs.’ Dans les deux listes, le style est à peu près semblable, comme nous l’avons dit précédemment. Cependant, nous ne disposons d’aucune autre source pour cette histoire. ‘En l’an 4943 [de la Création]21 la majorité des arbres [de Provence] sont morts et [des Juifs] de Lunel ont acheté un cédrat pour cent dinars et l’ont utilisé [pour accomplir le commandement] à Arles, Beaucaire, Tarascon et Avignon.’ Nous voyons dans ce court paragraphe un témoignage du désastre écologique botanique de l’année de 1183, au moins dans le sud de la Provence. A présent, il nous faut expliquer pourquoi les Juifs utilisent le cédrat lors de la fête des Tabernacles. L’un des commandements de cette fête est de prendre les quatre espèces végétales et de prononcer une bénédiction

Ce point a récemment été précisé par Stern (2009) and Roth (2021). En 1176/7. Maïmonide calcule que l’année de la destruction du second Temple est l’an 70 de l’ère vulgaire. 4937 de la Création équivaut à l’année 1177. En 1181/2. En 1182.

56

david

lors de la prière du matin pendant les sept jours de cette fête. Une de ces espèces est l’etrog (cédrat) mentionné ici. Ainsi, les communautés des quatre villes mentionnées plus haut du sud de la Provence n’ont pu trouver qu’un cédrat à Lunel (dans le Languedoc) à un prix très élevé (cent dinars). Nous pouvons donc supposer que ce cédrat a circulé de ville en ville chaque jour. E. ‘En l’an 4959 [de la Création]22 R. Abraham fils de David de Posquières est mort pendant Hannouka le soir de Shabbat et a été enterré dans le nouveau cimetière et les Cohanim [prêtres] se sont occupés de l’enterrement.’ Le sage Abraham fils de David de Posquières en Provence était l’un des plus érudits de sa génération. Il est connu comme étant le critique du Code de Maïmonide, le Mishneh Torah,23 comme nous l’avons dit cidessus. L’année de sa mort est aussi mentionnée dans la liste provençale: ‘En l’an 4999 [de la Création] le roi d’Angleterre… est mort. Cette annéelà, le grand sage R. Abraham fils de David est mort la veille de Shabbat (vendredi)24 et les Cohanim (prêtres) creusèrent sa tombe.’ Dans les deux listes le style est similaire comme nous l’avons écrit plus haut. L’historien Abraham Zacut, déjà mentionné, fait référence à ce sujet également: ‘Il semble qu’avant la mort de Maïmonide, RABaD (R. Abraham fils de David de Posquières) est lui-même décédé et que les Cohanim (prêtres) se sont occupés de son enterrement.’25 Comme écrit plus haut, Abraham Zacut connaissait cette liste courte. Sa stature comme autorité halakhique est prouvée par le fait que les Cohanim (prêtres) se soient chargés de son enterrement. Selon la tradition juive, les Cohanim ne sont pas autorisés à faire un quelconque enterrement juif car ils doivent conserver leur pureté rituelle, sauf s’il s’agit de très grands sages. L’honneur leur revient alors de procéder à l’enterrement. F. ‘Le 9 Av (juillet) il y a eu un mauvais décret sur la communauté de Béziers, et il y a eu un grand massacre, “des cadavres à l’infini” [Nahoum, 3:3] en l’an 4976 [de la Création]26 qui est l’année yagon.’27 Nous ne pouvons pas comprendre le fond de cet événement tragique à partir de cette phrase. Mais nous obtenons des détails plus précis à ce sujet dans la

22 23 24 25 26 27

En 1198. Isadore Twersky a publié une monographie sur lui (19802). Shevet Yehudah, éd. Shohet, 147. Zacut, Sefer Yuhasin, 220b. En l’an 1216. La valeur numérique des lettres hébraïques yagon est de 69, allusion à l’année [49]69 de la Création. Or, le texte mentionne juste avant par erreur 4976 qui est 1216.

fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale

57

liste provençale, ainsi qu’il y est écrit: ‘En l’an 4969 [de la Création],28 des gens abominables29 armés arrivèrent de France et le 19 Av (22 juillet) fut un jour de massacre à Béziers. Et il y a eu là-bas une grande tuerie, et parmi les Gentils vingt-mille furent tués,30 parmi les Juifs deux cents, et un grand nombre fut emmené en captivité.’ L’historien Abraham Zacut rapporte aussi cet événement: ‘En l’an 4969 [de la Création] il y a eu une persécution contre la communauté de Béziers.’31 Sa version est la même que celle de la liste courte, mais Zacut donne la date correcte pour l’année 1209. Ainsi, à partir de la liste provençale, qui est légèrement plus longue, nous pouvons connaître le contexte. Il s’agit de la croisade contre le mouvement des albigeois qui se diffusait dans le sud de la France au xiie siècle et pendant la première moitié du xiiie siècle. Ce mouvement d’hérétiques qui ne croyaient pas aux dogmes chrétiens, fut nommé d’après la ville d’Albi dans le Languedoc, qui était un de leurs centres.32 Les Croisés envahirent Béziers dans le Languedoc en 1209, la même date indiquée dans la liste provençale. Nous apprenons de cette source qu’également deux cent Juifs ont été tués. Une autre preuve de cet événement à Béziers a été découverte il y a 73 ans (en 1950). Une inscription hébraïque trouvée dans une église à Olot, près de Gérone en Catalogne, nous informe que les Juifs exilés de Béziers se sont installés dans cette ville après le terrible événement survenu en 1209.33 La ville de Béziers était une grande ville et des communautés juives y existaient depuis de nombreuses années et jours. Elles avaient construit des maisons et planté des vignes mais les ténèbres et l’obscurité survinrent et un peuple tira l’épée contre l’autre (d’après Isaïe, 2:4), le royaume entra en guerre dans la ville en 4969 (de la Création).34 Pour résumer, nous avons essayé d’analyser les fragments d’une version différente de la liste provençale que j’avais trouvée dans un manuscrit hébreu et publiée plus de quarante ans auparavant. Ces deux listes nous renseignent sur la vie juive interne en Provence et dans le Languedoc dans la brève période entre 1167 et le milieu du treizième siècle. De plus, la liste provençale ne comporte pas l’œuvre originale, mais est une composition éclectique éditée plus tardivement. 28 29 30 31 32 33 34

En l’an 1209. Les Croisés. D’après des registres chrétiens il y eut environ 20,000 victimes à Béziers; voir Graetz (1861), Appendix i, 403, dans la version en hébreu, pp. 418–419. Zacut, Sefer Yuhasin, 220b. On a beaucoup écrit sur ce mouvement, inter alia, voir Runciman (19552); Holmes (1948). Voir Vallicrosa (1950); Catane (1955). En l’an 1209.

‫‪58‬‬

‫‪david‬‬

‫‪Appendix‬‬

‫‪Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, cod. Heb. 961‬‬

‫‪1‬‬

‫‪ill. 3.1‬‬

‫‪A. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, cod. Heb. 961 – Texte‬‬ ‫א‪] .‬תת[ק]נ[״ח הובא ספר משנה תורה לר״ם במז״ל בלוניל‪.‬‬ ‫ב‪ .‬בשנת תתקל״ז חובר ונתבקש בישיבה של מעלה‪.‬‬ ‫ג‪ .‬בשנת ד׳ אלפים ותתקנ״ב טבעה ספינה שהיו בה מבני עמנו אנשים חכמים ונבונים יזכו‬ ‫לקץ הימין‪.‬‬ ‫ד‪ .‬בשנת ד׳ אלפים תתקמ״ג מתו רב האילנות‪ ,‬וקנו בלוניל אתרוג אחד מאה דינרי‪ ,‬ויצאו‬ ‫באותו אתרוג‪ ,‬ארלי טרשקו אוינון בילקיירי‪.‬‬ ‫ה‪ .‬בשנת ד׳ אלפים תתקנ״ט נתבקש בישיבה של מעלה הרב אברהם ב״ר דוד מפושקיירש‬ ‫בחנוכה בערב שבת ונגנז בבית הקברות חדש‪ ,‬ועשו כהנים את קברו‪.‬‬ ‫ו‪ .‬בשנת ד׳ אלפים תתקע״ו היא שנת יגון יום ט׳ אב היתה גזרת קהל בדרש‪ ,‬והיתה הרג רב‪,‬‬ ‫ואין קצה לגויה‪.‬‬ ‫‪B. Tableau des sources parallèles‬‬

‫‪Paris, BnF,‬‬ ‫‪cod. Heb. 961‬‬ ‫בשנת ד׳ אלפים ותתקנ״ב‬ ‫טבעהספינה שהיו בה מבני‬ ‫עמנו אנשים חכמים ונבונים‪,‬‬ ‫יזכו לקץ הימין‪.‬‬

‫‪Provençal List‬‬

‫‪Abraham Zacut,‬‬ ‫‪Sefer Yuhasin‬‬

‫שנת ]תת[קנ״ב נטבעה צי אדיר‬ ‫ובה כמה חכמים גדולים‪ ,‬יזכו‬ ‫לקץ הימין‪.‬‬

‫שנת ]תת[קנ״ט מת מלך‬ ‫בשנת ד׳ אלפים תתקנ״ט‬ ‫אינגלאטירא… ובשנה ההיא‬ ‫נתבקש בישיבה של מעלה‬ ‫נתבקש בישיבה של מעלה‬ ‫הרב אברהם ב״ר דוד ז״ל‬ ‫המאור הגדול ר׳ אברהם בר‬ ‫מפושקייריש בחנוכה בערב‬ ‫שבת‪ ,‬ונגנז בבית הקברות חדש‪ ,‬דוד ערב שבת‪ ,‬והכהנים חפרו‬ ‫את קברו‪.‬‬ ‫ועשו כהנים את קברו‪.‬‬

‫קודם נפטר הראב״ד‬ ‫מהרמב״ם עצמו‪ ,‬ועשו‬ ‫הכהנים קברו‬

fragments d’une chronique hébraïque provençale

59

(suite)

Abraham Zacut, Sefer Yuhasin ‫ובשנת תתקס״ט גזרת‬ ‫קהל בדרש‬

Provençal List

Paris, BnF, cod. Heb. 961

,‫שנת ]תת[קס״ט היא שנת יגון‬

‫שנת ד׳ אלפים תתקע״ו היא‬ ‫שנת יגון יום ט׳ אב היתה גזרת יצאו מתועבים מצרפת לצבוא‬ ‫ וביום י״ט אב יום טבח‬,‫ ואין צבא‬,‫ והיתה הרג רב‬,‫קהל בדרש‬ ,‫ היה שם הרג גדול‬,‫בדירש‬ .‫קצה לגויה‬ ,‫ונהרגו מן הערלים עשרים אלף‬ .‫ומן היהודים מאתים ורבים נשבו‬

Bibliographie Sources Solomon Ibn Verga. Shevet Yehudah. Ed. A. Shohet, with an introduction by Fritz Baer. Jerusalem: [Mossad Bialik], 1947. La référence Shevet Yehudah, éd. Shohet, [numéro de page]. Abraham Zacut Sefer Yuhasin. Ed. H. Filipowski. London/Edinburgh, 1857; Jerusalem, 19632.

Études Baer, Fritz I. (1935). ‘New Notes in Shebet-Jehuda.’ Tarbiz 6: 152–179 (en hébreu). Baer, Fritz I. (1936). Untersuchungen über Quellen und Komposition des Schevet Jehuda. Berlin, 1936. Benayahu, Meir (1971–1977). ‘A new source concerning the Spanish Refugees in Portugal and their move to Salonika.’ Sefunot 11: 251–257 (en hébreu). Catane, Moshe (1955). ‘An Inscription of Beziers Exiles.’ Tarbiz 25: 232–233 (en hébreu). Cohen, Jeremy (2017). A Historian in Exile: Solomon ibn Verga Shevet Yehudah and the Jewish-Christian Encounter. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. David, Abraham (1979). ‘Fragments from a Hebrew chronicle.’ Alei Sefer 6–7: 198–200 (en hébreu). David, Abraham (2020). ‘Between Sefer Yuhasin and Shalshelet ha-Kabbalah on Seder ha-Hakhamim (Jewish Sages Chronicle) in the Middle Ages.’ Alei Sefer 29: 29–41 (en ébreu). Graetz, Heinrich Hirsch (1907). Geschichte der Juden. Vol. vi. Leipzig. Appendix iv, 396– 409. Trad. en hébreu par Shaul Pinehas Rabbinowitz: Heinrich Hirsch Graetz, Divrei Yemei Israel, 4ème partie. Varsovie, 1907–1908. 412–424.

60

david

Holmes, Edmond (1948). The Holy Heretics: The Story of Albigensian Crusade. London: Watts. Loeb, Isidore (1888). Josef Haccohen et les chroniqueurs juifs. Paris, 1888. Roth, Pinchas (2021). In This Land: Jewish Life and Legal Culture in Late Medieval Provence. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies. Runciman, Steven (19552). The Medieval Manichee: A Study of the Christian Dualist Heresy. Cambridge: cup. Schatzmiller, Joseph (1985). ‘Provencal Chronography in the Lost Pamphlet by Shem Tov Schanzolo.’ American Academy for Jewish Research Proceedings lii (1985): 43–61 (en hébreu). Stern, Gregg (2009). Philosophy and Rabbinic Culture. Jewish Interpretation and Controversy in Medieval Languedoc. London/New York: Routledge. Twersky, Isadore (19802). Rabad of Posquières: A Twelfth-Century Talmudist. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America. Twersky, Isadore (1985). Introduction to the Code of Maimonides (Mishneh Torah). New Haven/London: Yale up. Version en hébreu: Yitshak Twersky, Mavo lemishneh Torah. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1991. Vallicrosa, Jose M. Millas (1950). ‘Nuevos epigrafes Hebraicos.’ Sefarad x: 339–343.

4 Violence and Monasticism in Two Aquitanian Chronicles John France

Abstract It has often been noted as curious that in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the highly literate society of southern France produced few works of history. Various reasons for this have been suggested, not least that the area was politically fragmented and wracked by violence. This article examines and compares two chronicles which cover the period from the early eleventh century to the first quarter of the thirteenth. They were written in the Limousin, which was a particularly unstable area of southern France, at a time when it was undergoing a series of profound crises. Geoffrey de Vigeois and Bernard Itier were very different people, the one an aristocrat and the other a townsman. Their works reveal that instability and war did influence their writings, not least because it focussed their attention on the local rather than the wider world which they intended to describe.

In his edition of the Miracles of Our Lady of Rocamadour, Marcus Bull has drawn our attention to the ‘Paucity of Chronicle Sources for southern France in the twelfth century’.1 Another distinguished historian, T.N. Bisson, whose work he discusses, has remarked on the same very odd phenomenon.2 It is odd because everybody agrees that southern France was a highly literate society, and yet it produced only a very few chronicles. Bisson thinks that the southern elite of the wealthy mercantile cities with their rich legal culture were preoccupied with more utilitarian forms of writing. However, as Bull points out, other urban societies produced both kinds of writing. Both commentators agree, however, that the political fragmentation of the area may have been deeply discouraging of historical endeavour. As Bisson puts it, ‘Fragmentation and divergence inhibited the production of finished or “official” works … Com-

1 Bull (1999: 20–25). 2 Bisson (1990: 281–308).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_005

62

france

piled rather than composed, history was something to do or recollect or to celebrate for enclosed purposes, not a creation to reflect upon.’3 Bull argues that historical narrative tended to be built around dominant leaders who were lacking in the political landscape of southern France. This article seeks to explore these ideas in relation to two historical narratives which cover the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, written by authors who lived in a very violent region of the Aquitaine. In addition, it seeks to consider the role that violence played in limiting this historical endeavour. This is a southern society seen from the inside by two monks who lived at its very heart, in the abbey of St Martial of Limoges. At first glance the authors appear remarkably similar. Geoffrey de Breuil, Prior of Vigeois, born about 1140, became a monk at the abbey of St Martial of Limoges in 1160, was priested in 1168, after a short spell at La Souterraine, and became Prior of St Martial’s dependency of Vigeois in 1178 before dying in 1184.4 Bernard Itier was born in 1163. In 1177, like Geoffrey, whose work he used, he entered St Martial as a monk. From 1186–1189 he was in the Poitou, becoming a priest in 1189. In 1195 he was made the sub-librarian (subarmarius) of St Martial, before becoming the main librarian in 1204, until his death on 27 January 1225.5 This was an important position because the abbey of St Martial, a traditional Benedictine house, had a very large library, much of which has survived.6 Both writers provide us with details of their career and family in their works.7 Geoffrey and Bernard shared a common interest in the liturgical and musical development for which the abbey of St Martial was famous.8 Both report and accept miracle stories in a manner entirely in keeping with their status as monks. Geoffrey dedicates his very long Chapter xv to a list of the saints and shrines of the Limousin. The family of Lastours, to which he was related, appear

3 Bisson (1990:308). 4 Régis Rech, ‘Geoffrey de Vigeois.’emc. Consulted online 31/05/2020. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 279– 342. There is a modern edition and translation by Pierre Botineau at al. (2020), but I have not been able to access it. There is also a French translation, by François Bonnélye (1850). 5 Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, xviii–xxiii. 6 Lemaitre (2006: 357–372). The abbey was razed in the nineteenth century; only a crypt, now open to the public, remains. 7 ‘Chronica Gaufredi’. Geoffrey became a monk in 1160 and priest in 1168 (310–311), Prior of Vigeois (289), family of his mother (313–314, 317–318), death of his brother (320). Bernard Itier was born in 1163 (44–45, 48–49), became a monk (54, 171–177), became Deacon (55–56), sublibrarian (166 and 172), Succentor (62), Librarian (172); thereafter there are several references to his journeying, family and sermons. 8 Evans (1970).

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

63

frequently in this list, notably through their connection with St Pardoux. Geoffrey records how a blind man had his sight restored before the coffin of St Pardoux which had been brought to Limoges by the family. The famous shrine of St Léonard de Noblac is noted and the miracle of the freeing of Bohemond of Antioch mentioned. In many cases Geoffrey simply records that ‘many miracles’ occurred at them. Perhaps the oddest is that of St Yrieix whose body refused to be carried through the quarter of the shoemakers, thereby proving his nobility: this, however, may reflect Geoffrey’s noble status. Apart from its intrinsic value, this list contains some historical material—that Pardoux lived in the time of Hunald duke of Aquitaine and Charlemagne.9 Presumably this mass of material reflected Geoffrey’s knowledge of saints’ lives. Bernard Itier recounts at length how in 1111 the belt of the abbot of San Lorenzo in Rome took on a life of its own to explain scripture.10 He later refers to the miracles of Simon de Montfort which followed his death at the siege of Toulouse in June 1218.11 Geoffrey was learned to the extent that he mentions Apollonius of Tyre, and drew on the Commemoratio abbatum basilice S. Marcialis, a list of the abbots and their deeds,12 and had read Baldry of Dol’s account of the First Crusade, and many saints’ lives, including a rather obscure piece of hagiography by a German abbot.13 He twice cites rather vaguely the ‘prophesies’ of Ambrose Merlin.14 He never cites Ademar of Chabannes, the most notable chronicler of St Martial. This is surprising because Ademar’s works were in the library of St Martial and provided an important source for Bernard.15 Bernard shows evidence of much wider reading. He chose to begin his work with the creation and used the bible for the earliest sections of his work. For long periods, as was then conventional, he merely listed names of Patriarchs, Judges and Roman emperors. Thereafter he shows familiarity with many works known to have been in the St Martial library, including Jerome, Paul the Deacon, Bede, Anastasius the Librarian, the Commemoratio abbatum basilice S. Marcialis, Ademar of Chabannes and Geoffrey of Vigeois, with occasional snippets from others like William of Malmesbury.16 He was, therefore, the more learned

9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 285–287. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 36–37. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 108–109. ‘Commemoratio’, 1–27. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 296, 297, and see below, p. 68, nn. 40 and 41. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 302, 309–310. On this body of legends and its spread, see Archibald, and Putter (2009). Ademar of Chabannes, Chronicon. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, xxv.

64

france

of the two. Curiously, neither of these monks used biblical citations to any degree, except in noting liturgical matters. But there were also significant differences, notably in social origins, which clearly influenced their writing. Geoffrey insists on his connection with the lords of Lastours through his mother,17 and his work is packed with aristocratic genealogical material. Almost at the start of the work he records the descent of his family of Lastours and returns to it later.18 Apart from his own family of Lastours, the viscounts of Brosse, Turenne, Comborn and Ventadour enjoy some detailed coverage.19 Considerable detail is provided on the family of the viscounts of Limoges.20 In addition, many mentions of notable figures are accompanied by some note of their descent. By contrast, Bernard Itier was the son of Peter Itier, a townsman of the castrum of Limoges. Interest in the minutiae of aristocratic descent is very much less evident in Bernard’s work. Their works are very different. In his Prologue Geoffrey says he will start with the accession of King Robert of France (996–1031) and end with Frederick Barbarossa’s (1155–1190) settlement with the Lombard cities, which we know as the Peace of Constance of 1183.21 For him the past bears lessons for the present in revealing the divine, but he pours scorn on such pagan writers as Apollonius of Tyre,22 declaring that while Christian people had to mine carefully through much dross for the spiritual benefits of knowledge, he will focus on the deeds of Christian princes in order to understand the ‘power of the divine hand’ and to ‘honour God and praise my country.’ ‘My country’ was clearly Aquitaine for he says nothing of Robert beyond his succession in 996, and in Chapter 1 carefully notes that William v was duke of Aquitaine.23 He then proceeds to a series of chapters on local topics including the genealogy of his own Lastours family.24 At the very end of his chronicle Geoffrey remarks: I ended my work when Gouffiers de Lastours died at Vigeois on Monday, at the sixth hour on the Ides of April, after nine days of illness. He had served his country gloriously. His body was buried in the church of Arnac, and on

17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 313–314 and 317–318. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 281–282, 306. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 284–287, 290–291. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 281–282, 300, 307–308. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 279–280. On the Treaty, see Barraclough (1957: 183). Geoffrey clearly shared the medieval assumption that this satire was history, on which see Hibbard (1963: 164). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 281. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 284; Barrière (2006a: 323).

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

65

the following Wednesday his funeral was celebrated with great pomp, by Bernard, abbot of Dalon, Bernard abbot of Uzerche, and Archambaud, his uncle. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 329

This is a work rooted in the Limousin, but Geoffrey clearly did not intend it as a purely local history. We reach a wider world in Chapter xii, which deals with King William the Conqueror of England (1066–1087), and xiii which takes us back to Hugh, father of King Robert (987–996).25 He keeps track of the kings of France, and mentions Robert Guiscard, but thought erroneously that he was poisoned by his wife, and apparently knew nothing of his brother Roger. He recorded the death of King Philip i of France (1060–1108) and describes his son, Louis vi (1108–1137), as ‘fortissimus bellator’ but he believed it was the son, and not the father who purchased Bourges from its viscount, Odo Arpin.26 His knowledge of the Empire was extremely weak, but he was interested in England. However, while he admired Henry i (1100–1135), he apparently knew nothing of Stephen (1135–1154), whose son he mentions only in vague terms.27 As we shall see, he was interested in the crusades. However, his account of their origin is revealing. In Chapter xxvii the first act of the Council of Clermont mentioned is a reform of the Office of the Virgin, and this is accompanied by a digression on divergences from it. He then tells us that Urban exhorted people from many lands to go to Jerusalem, noting the massacres of the Jews which occurred and listing the leaders. Amongst them he singles out Gouffiers de Lastours. He then reports Urban’s visit to Le Puy and Uzerches and his arrival at Limoges, where, accompanied by notable ecclesiastics, he dedicated churches and attracted a vast crowd of people. He does highlight Urban’s preaching, before going on to incorporate a very vague account of the First Crusade, focussed on the miraculous acts of a local lord, his relative, Gouffiers de Lastours. In Chapter xxviii he records Urban’s visit and the deposition of Bishop Humbald of Limoges before praising his successor Bishop William, who he says was poisoned. He then proceeds via a short note of Peter of Bordeaux’s term as bishop (1100–1105) to explain that he will not go into detail on the crusade because it had already been done by Baldric of Dol,28 though again he mentions Gouffiers de Lastours and refers to the work of Gregory Bechada.

25 26 27 28

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 280–283. Fawtier (1969: 104). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 299, 302–303. Baldric of Bourgueil, Historia Ierosolimitana.

66

france

But he does add that the Turks seized Jerusalem in 1010: this appears to be a reference to the destruction of the Holy city in that year.29 This is a very poorly constructed account of the crusade seen through an Aquitanian lens, but taken together with the other material in the earlier part of his history makes the point that Geoffrey was not by intention telling a purely local story. On the other hand, Geoffrey retails a lot of mistaken information while the form of the work is very defective. The intention was to be chronological, but events which happened at different times are sometimes lumped in with others. The account of the events around the First Crusade illustrate the disorder. Genealogical chapters also interrupt the narrative flow of the work. There seems to have been little consistent tradition of recording events at St Martial, despite its possession of a great library which grew further into the twelfth century. Geoffrey scathingly remarks on the poverty of the material about the abbots of the mid-eleventh century in the Commemoratio that: ‘I have not found anywhere that these abbots did anything memorable, and I did not want to record obscure things.’ The record of the abbots in fact is very limited and this suggests that Geoffrey really had to invent the art of history writing for himself.30 Having finished so decisively in 1183, Geoffrey produced a kind of Part Two, probably almost immediately after ‘completing’ Part One in 1183. This is the part of the chronicle most cited by modern historians. It has 28 chapters, as compared to the 74 of Part One, and deals with the events of the rebellion of Henry, the ‘Young King’ against his father Henry ii (1154–1189).31 This is really gripping material: Geoffrey was evidently writing as events unfolded and he was caught up in the violence. It is possible that his death in 1184 resulted from the collapse of a wall which killed some and injured him during this turbulent period.32 Geoffrey’s chronicle shows knowledge of the wider world, but it is thin and often vague. It comes to life on local matters. Structure and dating are erratic. The dramatic events of 1183–1184 engaged Geoffrey’s interest but are clearly an ‘add-on’ and do not relate to the earlier part of the work, and this is somewhat characteristic. While Geoffrey’s work lacks structure, it is interesting and engaging, because it is discursive.

29

30 31 32

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 292–293, 295–296; on the destruction of Jerusalem in 1009/10 see Glaber, Histories, 132–137, and Ademar of Chabannes, 166–167, from whom Geoffrey might have taken this information. ‘Si dignum memoriae aliquid gesserint, quia non reperi obscuras opiniones superuacaneum scribere duxi’: ‘Commemoratio’, 7–9, and compare ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 284. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 330–342. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 340–341.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

67

By contrast, Bernard Itier’s chronicle is laconic, not to say cryptic, much of it being in the form of short notes. After he became subarmarius, and continuing throughout his life, Bernard made notes in the manuscripts of St Martial. Some were inventories, lists, tables of contents and clearly connected with his office.33 But in others he recorded events which took his interest, even episodes in his own life and that of his family.34 He notated about a fifth of the books known to have been in the library at the time.35 Perhaps the most famous of his insertions is his account of the death of Richard the Lionheart (1189–1199). This had become attached to the end of the manuscript of Geoffrey’s work. It has now gained very wide acceptance.36 In his chronicle proper Bernard often reverts to this very laconic pattern. He has no prologue, but he sets out to narrate events from the Creation. This was a conventional notion, adopted, for example, in the Chronicon Universale formerly attributed to by Ekkehard of Aura.37 It points to the wide scope of his intentions; this was not designed to be a chronicle of Aquitaine. The biblical period is largely a list of names of important figures, but from about the end of the fourth century his entries become reasonably full, if disconnected. He shows a good knowledge of Ademar of Chabannes and the other works noted above. However, in the twelfth century, when he was largely dependent upon Geoffrey, his entries become brief again. From the point at which Geoffrey’s work terminated he was writing from his own experience, but his entries are only occasionally full, and are often surprisingly uninformative with huge and unexpected gaps. Bernard’s work is even more centred on the Aquitaine than Geoffrey’s, especially in the sections about his own lifetime. The lack of reflection combined with extreme brevity makes it difficult to assess his attitudes. But what is clear is that both writers had poor access to information outside their own area. A good indication of the limitations of these two writers is revealed by looking at what they have to say about the crusades. By the time our two writers were at work the crusade was no longer an innovation. In Geoffrey’s chronicle there is what may be a long insert on the First Crusade. After briefly recounting events it tells us that Gouffiers de Lastours was rescued from the coils of a serpent by a lion which was so devoted

33 34 35 36 37

On these see Lucie Doležalová (2009: 80–99). Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, xv—xviii. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, xv—xviii. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 342; Gillingham (1979); Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 210–211, 261–263. Published in mgh ss 6: 13–265, and Migne pl 154: 540–1060. Recent work has firmly discredited this attribution, on which see McCarthy (2014: 46–53).

68

france

to him that when he returned to the west it jumped into the sea and followed his ship until it drowned.38 There is some factual material, probably derived from one of the known sources for the crusade. However, he does report that Gregory Bechada of Lastours was persuaded to write an account of the crusade in Provençal. This reference to the origins of the Canso d’Antioca clearly reflects Geoffrey’s connection with the Lastours family. He speaks of the old monastic orders losing vigour, especially compared to the new orders, amongst them the Hospital and the Temple, and praises their good works. Bernard Itier, by contrast, reports no more on the First Crusade than the capture of Jerusalem and election of Godfrey de Bouillon.39 Geoffrey’s next two chapters have considerable crusading content. He says that the failure of the crusade in 1101 (which Bernard never mentions) was due to the sins of William ix of Aquitaine, then lists the kings of Jerusalem, noting that Baldwin iii (1143–1163) seized Ascalon and Amalric (1163–1174) had an unnamed leper son. But much of the chapter is about music and liturgy. In the following chapter he says that Bohemond came to St Martial in gratitude for being freed from the Danishmend Turks. There is no mention of the fact, noted earlier in Chapter xv, that he went to St Léonard de Noblat in gratitude for this ‘miracle’, and he excuses himself from recounting this event because it had already been done.40 However, he evidently confuses Bohemond i with Bohemond ii whose daughter it was that actually married Raymond, brother of William x of Aquitaine, but he correctly says that their daughter, Maria of Antioch, married Emperor Manuel Comnenus (1143–1180), and he knows she was nicknamed Xene.41 He returns to this confusion a little later when he again says Raymond of Antioch married Bohemond’s daughter.42 Geoffrey definitely knew that Fulk of Anjou married Melissende, the daughter of Baldwin ii of Jerusalem (1118–1131), and that their son was Baldwin iii who captured Ascalon, but his story that a Baldwin, Prince of Edessa, abused the daughter of a citizen who in consequence betrayed Edessa, is a total fantasy.43 As he tells it, the Christians of the East tried to recover Edessa and were encour38 39 40 41

42 43

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 293. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 296, 297; Gregory Bechada, The Canso d’Antioca; Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 35. See above p. 63, n. 13. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 297; for Bohemond’s visit to St Léonard, see Russo (2009: 158–161), who notes the story of the miracle told by Bishop Waleran of Naumburg (1098–1110/11) after his visit to the shrine. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 299; Loud (2000: 223). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 302, 305; Barber (2012: 179–181) outlines the reasons for the fall of Edessa which was ruled by Joscelin ii.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

69

aged by St Bernard. In his account of the Second Crusade Geoffrey tells us that Louis vii of France (1137–1180), Conrad iii of Germany (1138–1152) and Alphonse of Narbonne passed through the lands of Emperor Manuel who was a secret enemy. This clearly reflects anti-Byzantine feeling caused by the failure of the crusade. Yet he goes on to explain this disaster differently: ‘This army had no success because it was undisciplined.’44 They were full of pride and sinful, he says, especially as the crusaders had pillaged churches for their expenses. They failed despite their numbers and being led by a king and an emperor. He notes the deaths of Alphonse of Narbonne, Guy, Viscount of Limoges (at Antioch), and the two Guys of Lastours. After the crusade Louis vii and Eleanor came to Limoges and he remarks on their descent from Stephen of Blois who is mentioned in the stories of the First Crusade; this is perhaps derived from Baldri of Dol.45 Bernard Itier is laconic; he says Louis and Eleanor took the cross at St Denys when actually it was from there that they departed, having taken the cross at Vézélay.46 Geoffrey thought Baldwin iii seized Ascalon in 1158—the actual date was 1153—but says accurately that he died about 1163. However, he seems to have heard something of the problems of the succession of Amalric to the throne of Jerusalem, for he says Baldwin iii left the kingdom to his nephew Baldwin (the Leper), entrusting it to the child’s father, Amalric, until he had reached maturity.47 Even more remarkable is Geoffrey’s account of Jerusalemite intervention in Egypt. According to him Mulene or Murena, lord of Babylon, had two important servants, Sanar or Azoar and Siraconus. They quarrelled and King Baldwin of Jerusalem intervened, but was defeated at Montgisard and fled with five other survivors to Larrit (perhaps Latrun) which was near to Cairo and Jerusalem. Ultimately Siraconus killed Sanar, but after he died Saladin, supporter of Nur ad-Din, killed Mulene/Murena and took his land, later seizing the inheritance of Nur ad-Din leaving his son only Malbec, Aleppo and Roane. There is much confusion here, notably over the kings of Jerusalem and the battle of Montgisard.48 However, the bare bones of Frankish intervention in a divided Egypt are evident, and even Saladin’s quarrel with the Zengids. Moreover, Geoffrey was aware of the prominence of the Hospitallers and their Master, Gilbert d’Assailly, in this whole affair. Gilbert actually impoverished the Order by his

44 45 46 47 48

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 306. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 306–307. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 40–41. Barber (2012: 231–234). Montgisard was a victory of Baldwin iv of Jerusalem over Saladin in 1177: Barber (2012: 270–272).

70

france

prosecution of Amalric’s campaign, but Geoffrey says he had been bribed by Siraconus, and in defeat had to pay an enormous ransom of 5,800,000 pieces of gold and six horses loaded with gold and silver. This so impoverished the Order that Louis vii had to bail it out.49 Bernard Itier has almost none of this, simply recording the foundation of the Order of the Temple in 1119 and the capture of Ascalon, following Geoffrey in giving the date as 1158.50 Geoffrey gives a list of kings reigning in the late 1170s including those of Morocco and Hungary, but with Prester John given pride of place and Richard duke of Aquitaine and Gascony appended for his fame and courage.51 A possible source for this burst of interest in the East was Uret bishop of Ramla, formerly from Déoles, who brought Amalric’s gift of part of the True Cross to the nearby Aquitanian monastery of Grandmont. The accession of Baldwin iv (1174–1185) is noted.52 In Part Two of his chronicle Geoffrey was obsessed by terrible local events, as we have seen, but he recorded the death of Manuel of Byzantium and the usurpation of the Adronicus (1183–1185), explaining that the Greeks hated the deposed Alexius ii (1180–1183) because he was married to Agnes, Louis vii’s daughter. Then, in his last note on the Latin East, Geoffrey tells us that Saladin oppressed the Christians. He had married the wife of Nur ed Din, whose son he had displaced. King Baldwin, as a leper, was, he says, unable to fight, but the Christians held Saladin at bay. Bernard Itier simply notes the death of Manuel.53 Geoffrey’s work is discursive and reveals a questing mind, but that of Bernard Itier is laconic and much more difficult to penetrate. A series of very short notes record the loss of Jerusalem in 1187 and the kings of France and England along with Richard taking the cross and seizing Acre, but with no detail at all. However, a long note, probably by him, adds detail on Richard’s settling the affairs of Cyprus, his capture in Germany and his ransoming. The detail here may owe much to the fact that St Martial paid substantial sums towards the king’s ransom.54 The capture of Constantinople on the Fourth Crusade and the election of Baldwin of Flanders, succeeded by his brother Henry, is remarked on.55 He tells us that in 1213 Robert of Courson came to Limoges 49 50 51 52 53 54 55

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 316–317; on Amalric’s Egyptian intervention, see Barber (2012: 237– 261), and for the Hospital, Nicholson (2001: 21–22). Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 38–39, 43–43. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 316–317. On the legend of Prester John, see Hamilton (1996). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 321–323; Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 48–49, based on ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, simply noted the gift of the True Cross. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 336; Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 51. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 54–57, 228–229. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 62–65.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

71

castrum preaching ‘for the recovery of the land of Jerusalem’56 and that the abbots of St Martial and St Martin took the cross along with more than thirty citizens. A little later Aimeric of Malemort and eight canons took the cross amid great celebrations.57 But of the events of the Fifth Crusade we are told nothing except in a note that Hugh of Lusignan died at Damietta and in another that Peter Brus brought back very beautiful cloth that he had bought in Damietta for twelve gold coins.58 It would be difficult to gather from Bernard Itier that 1187–1221 produced a great climax of crusading with remarkable events in the East. By contrast he offers quite a lot of detail on the Albigensian Crusade. The massacre at Béziers of 1209 and subsequent slaughter of heretics in fighting in 1210 are noted, and later the capture of Lavaur. We hear of places captured by Simon de Montfort who he describes as comes fortissimus, of his killing of King Peter of Aragon at Muret (1196–1213), of the capture of Casseneuil and his death with subsequent miracles.59 Of course these events had a strong local interest. Bernard does, however, mention that an army proceeded to Spain which was menaced by the Muslims, and he says many fortresses were captured. Oddly he never mentions the culmination of this expedition, the victory of Las Navas de Tolosa. It is worth noting that the French left the great army before that battle.60 Geoffrey did not set out to write a purely local history and neither did Bernard. In the early part of Geoffrey’s work there are references to the kings of France, and Chapter xix recorded the translation of the remains of St Nicholas to Bari, though dated to 1080 instead of 1087.61 This kind of garbled information was partly because St Martial was not a real centre of communication, but there were quite other reasons, related to its political situation. During World War i French generals who had failed were limogé, literally sent to Limoges, a place of exile where they could do no harm. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the city was not as much a backwater as this implies. It is in a rich agricultural area at a crossing of the river Vienne which flows north to the Loire, and was famous for the production of enamels, many of which survive.62 It was on one of the pilgrim routes to St James of Compostella. By 1000 the Roman city had 56 57 58 59 60 61 62

Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 102–103. ‘Commemoratio’, 16–17, mentions Robert’s preaching. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 96–99, 184–185, 194–195. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 70–71, 76–77, 82–83, 94–95, 96–97, 108–109. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 82–85. On the campaign which led to the battle on 16 July 1212, see France (1999: 167). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 289; the translation of the relics from Myra was recorded by Nicephorous, trans. in Jones, Saint Nicholas of Myra, 147–149. O’Neil (1996).

72

france

evolved into two places, each with their own fortifications. The cité lay near the cathedral of St Étienne. Close by was the castrum around the great Benedictine abbey of St Martial founded in 848.63 This was outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and the castle within the walls was held of the abbey by the Viscounts of Limoges.64 St Martial had long been regarded as the evangelist of Aquitaine, and the great abbey was founded in the time of Kings Charles the Bald and Lothar in 848.65 By about 1000 the cult of the saint had burgeoned and the abbey became a major centre of pilgrimage, and its wealth facilitated the establishment of an important library. The monks began to claim that St Martial was one of the seventy apostles mentioned in St Luke’s gospel, and that he was a cousin of St Peter.66 The abbey then had a substantial intellectual tradition, and in the early eleventh century the chronicler, Ademar of Chabannes, produced documents to ‘prove’ that St Martial was an apostle. Preparations were made for a new apostolic liturgy, but the whole notion was exploded by a visiting Lombard scholar just as the liturgy was about to be launched on 3 August 1029.67 Belief in St Martial’s apostolic origins, however, persisted.68 The papacy did not rejoice at the notion of another church in Europe claiming apostolic foundation.69 In 1063 Ademar ii, Viscount of Limoges, engineered the subordination of St Martial to Cluny. Geoffrey de Vigeois regarded this as a betrayal and alleges that Guy was bribed. However, although the memory of this event was still clearly deeply felt at St Martial, Geoffrey passes over the prolonged and violent resistance of the monks to Cluny, whose rule, he records, brought order and stability.70 Geoffrey was a conservative, regarding Fécamp as a model abbey because it was subordinate to none but the pope.71 But in Chapter xxxi he notes that the old monastic orders seemed to be losing vigour and that new orders, Templars, Hospitallers, Grandmont, Chartreuse and Citeaux were more vigorous

63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70

71

Delhoume (2006: 71) argues that the castrum was by far the richer of the two urban settlements. Barrière (1989); Vérynaud (1979). ‘Commemoratio’, 1. Luke 10: 1–24. Ademar of Chabannes, Chronicon, viii–ix; ‘Commemoratio’, 7–8. Landes (1992). ‘Commemoratio’, 1 n. 1; the editors remark that in Vatican mss Martial is not qualified as a saint. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 16, 287; Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 33, based on ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, is brief and simply records that Cluny took possession. For the full story of Cluny and St Martial, see Cowdrey (1970a: 90–94). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 284.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

73

and more active. In Chapter lxxiii, at the very end of the original part of his chronicle, he returns to the theme of the decay of the monks, adding that Cistercians might be pure but they were also greedy and bullying. Monks and clergy, he says, shared the pride of secular lords, leading to luxury and a reliance on usury which would be punished by the scourge of the mercenaries.72 In part this is an older man’s lament, but there is also a recognition that traditional Benedictinism, and St Martial with it, was falling behind. Bernard Itier is less reflective but his account of the life of the abbey obsessively records the valuable gifts (including his own) made by monks from their own wealth and lists other presents, expenditure and the cost of borrowing money.73 In particular he tells us that in 1220 the abbey was so heavily in debt that it could not complete the cloister. For this reason he supported the candidacy of a rich man to fill the position of abbot!74 He was, however, an admirer of the very austere abbey of nearby Grandmont which he mentions many times.75 St Martial was increasingly outside the main stream of church development, while the Cluniac Order had been weakened by the savage disputes attending the reign of Abbot Pons of Melgueil.76 And St Martial lacked friends in high ecclesiastical places. All this must have been a considerable limitation on the knowledge reaching this area. But the political context of the abbey of St Martial was particularly turbulent and often very violent. To a degree this was true of almost all western Christendom where, it has been said, ‘power was a fragile commodity’.77 But the situation of the Limousin within the duchy of Aquitaine was very particular. The dukes of Aquitaine were counts of Poitou, where Poitiers formed a natural centre for their lands in the north. To the south Bordeaux and its territory were loyal to the duke, though the Pyrenean lands of Gascony were very remote and independent. In between the lords of the Limousin fiercely resisted ducal power. The viscounts of Limoges, the viscounts of Turenne, the viscounts of Brosse, the counts of La Marche, the Lusignan counts of Angoulême, the viscounts of Comborn and the lords of Lastours (to name but the greatest play72 73 74 75 76

77

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 297, 328. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 56–57, 116–117. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 186–189. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 38–39, 70–71, 86–87, 102–103, 108–109, 112–113, 114–115, 158–159, 216–217, 220–221, 232–233. Vincent (2000: 1164). Pons had been a Prior of St Martial: ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 298; he had settled the sharp dispute at St Martial after the death of Abbot Ademar of St Martial in 1114, setting out new rules for the election of an abbot: ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 299, noted by Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 38–39. Gillingham (2005: 59).

74

france

ers) were notable figures whose turbulent rivalries and frequent wars scarred the wealthy Limousin, even before they were complicated and intensified by external intervention. Geoffrey provides lively sketches of the bloody origins of the families of Turenne, Comborn and Ventadour in the late tenth and eleventh centuries. In a dispute with Limoges about 1087 Duke William of Aquitaine burned the church of St Gerald. Peter Viroald, bishop of Limoges (1100–1105) fell so ill that he abandoned his see which was devastated by ‘bloody wars’.78 In Chapter xliv Geoffrey records a war between the viscount of Limoges and the count of Perigord in which the former devastated the lands of his enemy with 200 knights. One aspect of this conflict was tension between Limoges and Puy St Front in which a notable knight was killed by the bourgeois of Puy, and this gave rise to a long-lasting family feud.79 And war flared once more with the viscount of Limoges seeking control of the castle of Ségur from Gaucelm de Pierrebuffière who he imprisoned. However, friends of both sides negotiated and the upshot was a peace sworn to on the relics of St Martial in the presence of the Abbot and Bishop Eustorges (1106–1137). It was agreed that Gaucelm would hold the castle for six months, while two pairs of allies (presumably one pair from each side) would hold it for 3 months each, all parties accepting that they held it of the viscount. This was recorded in a charter kept at St Martial, with copies given to all the parties.80 The validation of the treaty by oath taken on relics in the presence of churchmen is very suggestive of the movement called the Peace and Truce of God which had originated in southern France in the tenth century. This was an effort led by bishops to mobilise the moral force of the general population to put pressure on the arms-bearers to end war, or at least indiscriminate war, and to protect the church and the poor.81 However, even at its inception at Le Puy in 975 its effectiveness had depended upon Bishop Guy (975–993) mobilising his own clan and exploiting divisions amongst the nobility.82 Geoffrey reports a much larger scale intervention of the same kind in 1177. When Audebert of La Marche and William of Angoulême rebelled against the rule of Henry ii (1154–1189) and his son Richard as duke of Aquitaine, Isambert, abbot of St Martial and Gerald bishop of Limoges ‘in public incited the people to arms’, forming an alliance with strong local lords. At Malemort they gathered a substantial army to confront mercenaries hired by the rebels. Aymar,

78 79 80 81 82

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 288, 289, 290–291, 296. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 302. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 300–301. Head and Landes (1992) provide a study of the origins of this movement. Cowdrey (1970b).

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

75

viscount of Limoges, led the vanguard, Audebert, viscount of Comborn, the second corps, Olivier de Lastours the third, while Eschival de Chabanz with the abbot and the bishop marshalled a reserve. At Malemort they killed 2000 mercenaries including their leader William of Hautebois (near Cambrai), who had earlier fought for Frederick Barbarossa at the sack of Rome. Shortly after the mercenary leader, Lobar, in the service of Raymond of Turenne, took Ségur but it quickly reverted to its owners.83 These events should perhaps be seen in the context of Richard’s efforts to control his duchy, though they are not narrated in that context. Isambert and Gerald were working in a well understood way, seeking to restrict violence by adroit alliances which controlled the violence and kept it within bounds. This was really the tradition of the Peace and Truce of God as reflected in the peace sworn before the altar of St Martial between the viscount of Limoges and Gaucelm.84 The trouble with such a method of making peace was that there were too many feuds and conflicts in this highly contested area. Shortly after the truce with Gaucelm, Aymard iii, viscount of Limoges, returning from a pilgrimage to Le Puy, was kidnapped by Ebles, viscount of Ventadour, a relative of Gaucelm. He was only released after two years and for the payment of 10,000 sols and died shortly after in 1139.85 William x of Aquitaine wanted to marry Emina, the heiress to the viscounty of Limoges, but she was kidnapped by William Tallifer, the son of Vulgrin, count of Angoulême. This should have led to terrible wars, as Geoffrey observes, but before he could exact his revenge William died in 1137 at Compostella, leaving his heiress, Eleanor, in the care of Louis vi, who promptly married her to Louis vii, who now became duke of Aquitaine as well as king of France.86 But although he was at first assertive, Louis had many other preoccupations, amongst them the Second Crusade (1147–1150), and soon after celebrating Christmas at Limoges in 1151 he renounced Eleanor, thereby ceasing to be duke.87 Her subsequent marriage to Henry ii of England (1154–1189) led to the incorporation of England into the Angevin ‘Empire’.88 The reality was that while England and Normandy shared a common administrative elite, Brittany, Aquitaine and Anjou were ruled by royal delegates and their elites felt excluded from influence. And all the continental lands were held of the king of France, who

83 84 85 86 87 88

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 323–324. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 303. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 304. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 304. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 307–308. Turner (2009).

76

france

thereby had a warrant to interfere. Aquitaine’s turbulence continued, to such an extent that one modern authority has described it as in a state of ‘permanent rebellion’.89 In autumn 1154 Henry ii and Eleanor were joyfully received at Limoges, in what Geoffrey de Vigeois was pleased to call the capital city of Aquitaine. But when Henry went to the castrum there was such violence between his entourage and the townspeople that he destroyed its walls and even the bridge and never entered the place again; an unfortunate beginning.90 It was not that Henry was uninterested in the south. In 1159 he mounted a very large-scale expedition seeking to enforce the ducal claim to the county of Toulouse. He made considerable gains, but Louis vii came to Toulouse and Henry did not wish to risk a direct attack on his overlord. Henry persisted in his ambitions against Toulouse and this led to a long-lasting alliance with the kings of Aragon, who had their own claims on the count’s lands.91 This semi-perpetual warfare attracted mercenaries to the area, and no doubt worsened the existing turbulence. But Henry had many preoccupations elsewhere, and this perhaps explains why he treated Aquitanian rebels so gently. In 1168 Patrick, earl of Salisbury, Henry’s governor in Aquitaine, was killed by the rebellious family of the Lusignans, but the king even so reached a settlement with them.92 With no firm domination, cruel and persistent conflicts were endemic. Geoffrey relates a petty war which illustrates the wildness of the area in the 1160s. Bernard of Périgueux was captured by enemies, but his nephew, Aymar, refused to pay ransom for him till Bernard had delivered over to him a castle. As a result, there was war, but peace was eventually made and all the parties were invited by Aymar to dine at Ségur castle. During the meal soldiers seized Bernard and another uncle, Hélie. This provoked their friends to a war which Aymar survived only because of the support of the count of La Marche. Ultimately Bernard gained the fortress of Excideuil and was knighted by Henry ii, but evidently this did not bring peace for Hélie, who, fleeing in the rain from Aymar, fell from his horse and was killed by another knight.93 The savagery of conflict in Aquitaine is notable. In 1100 William bishop of Limoges, poisoned by his enemies, was slow to ask Ademar, Abbot of St Martial, for an antidote, and so died. Geoffrey records that the stepmother of Guy, viscount of Limoges, seeking an inheritance for her

89 90 91 92 93

Aurell (2007: 187). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 308. Benjamin (1988). Crouch (1990: 35). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 317.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

77

own son, twice tried to poison him. Guy was saved each time by the antidote provided by Abbot Ademar. Geoffrey opined that the death of the lady’s son shortly after was a divine punishment for her wickedness. However, after Ademar died in 1114 so did Guy, though we are not told this was due to poison.94 In 1207 Bernard Itier recorded multiple poisonings, with one person saved by an antidote, and he thought that King John of England (1199–1216) had been poisoned.95 Unexplained sudden illness or death was a commonplace of the age, and allegations of poison in the case of important persons were frequent. But between them these two chroniclers record a number of such cases and the fact that an abbot was known to have an antidote points to the violence of the social elite of Aquitaine. Indeed, in the conflict unleashed by the revolt of Henry ii’s sons in 1173 we are told that at an assembly Gilbert of Malemort wore a coat of many colours, and Archambaud of Comborn joked that he looked like a parrot. Geoffrey remarks that ‘This jest cost him and his brother Aymar the sight of their eyes and the life of their brother Peter Clalaseus’. Apparently, as a consequence, the people of Graulière rebelled against Gilbert to avenge their lord, but Gilbert hired Basque mercenaries who devastated the countryside and carried off many people. Gilbert had these unfortunate captives thrown into the frozen river and dragged their bodies out again.96 When Gilbert ran out of money these very mercenaries defected to Archambaud and seized both his castle and his father. In 1178 a townsman, John of Casana and his family, captured Raymond viscount of Turenne at Martel. Bishop Sebrand of Limoges and many barons swore to accept the (unspecified) demands of John and his family if they freed him. However, once Raymond was released the barons put out the eyes of all John’s family. The story is repeated by Bernard Itier in some detail.97 Such cruelty was even visited upon monks, for shortly before this many monks of St Martial were massacred at the castle of Pompadour for unspecified reasons.98 In such a context even the clergy could be very violent: in 1210 Bernard Itier tells us ‘the canons of Salles had slain their prior with swords as he was getting up for matins.’99 Clergy and monks were deeply enmeshed in the changing and ferocious political world. A dispute with local nobles resulted in the burning of the abbey

94 95 96 97 98 99

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 288–289, 295, 299. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 66–67, 104–105. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 323. This is very much the view of chivalry taken in Kaeuper (1999). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 324; Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 50–51. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 316. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 70–71.

78

france

of Vigeois. A knight, brother of the sacristan, was captured and had to pay ransom. In vengeance the Vigeois killed a merchant passing in his cart. The lords to whom the merchant paid tribute then ravaged the abbey and its lands. The monks, realizing they were punished by God for having neglected proper discipline, submitted to Ademar, abbot of St Martial, who introduced reforms and imposed Gerald de Lestrade, a pious monk as prior.100 In 1179 Sebrand was elected bishop of Limoges. Since this was contrary to Henry ii’s wishes only some of the canons enthroned him at Solignac. He did not return to Limoges until 1181, having obtained the favour of Henry ii.101 The changing pattern of events was deeply confusing. In 1170 Henry ii’s son Richard was made duke of Aquitaine where he went in the care of Eleanor, his mother. She, however, led him into the great rebellion of 1173–1174 in which he was supported by most of the Limousin lords, who deeply resented Henry’s attempts to curb their ways. Once Henry had defeated the rebellion Richard waged war to subdue his former allies. ‘After 1175 duke Richard, at his father’s command, overturned traditional networks of power within the duchy of Aquitaine, above all in the Limousin, Angoumois and Gascony.’102 It was during this period that Richard earned the name ‘Lionheart’ for his vigorous campaigns, notably crushing the mercenaries of the count of Angoulême in battle in 1176 and capturing mighty Taillebourg in 1179.103 But even such victories did not end rebellion, and in 1183 the position of the rebels was strengthened by the support of Henry the ‘Young King’, who felt that his father had treated him badly.104 He and his ally, Aymar the viscount of Limoges, held the castrum of Limoges, but Henry was short of money to pay his mercenaries, the Paleari. Aymar was paying the Brabançons and the Basques, but Henry had to pay for his men. He therefore demanded that the monks of St Martial surrender to him their treasure. They retorted that they could not in the absence of Abbot Isambert (1174–1198). But, says Geoffrey, everybody knew that Isambert was not present because he supported Henry ii and Richard, and had taken refuge at the abbey of Souterraine, returning only from time to time to Limoges. So the young king drove out the monks and seized the treasure of St Martial.105

100 101 102 103 104 105

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 288. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 324–325. Gillingham (2005: 59, 78). Turner and Heiser (2000: 57–89). For a full account of his rebellions, see Strickland (2016: 282–305). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 335.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

79

In Part Two of Geoffrey’s chronicle there is a freshness and immediacy which evidently came from personal involvement. He begins in 1182 with a series of local deaths and events, intermixed with news from the Holy Land and Henry ii’s aid to Philip Augustus (1180–1223), making clear that Richard was campaigning against his enemies in the Limousin.106 But it was the decision of Henry, the Young King, to support the rebels, in alliance with Geoffrey of Brittany, who was seeking to profit from the quarrels of his brothers, that escalated events.107 Geoffrey de Vigeois was loyal to Henry ii and Richard before this, but he also presents the case of the Young King in quite sympathetic terms.108 However, as he says, the quarrels of the Plantagenet brothers ‘brought great evil to Aquitaine.’109 He portrays Henry ii trying to make peace, but when the rebels attacked him, he gathered forces and, in alliance with Richard, besieged the castrum of Limoges. To defend the city the walls were strengthened with brattices, and ditches and a glacis created all around with the demolition of churches.110 But the mercenaries and their horrific pillaging and killing dominate his account. At his originally intended ending Geoffrey complained, in the context of Richard’s wars against the rebels of the Limousin, of the evils inflicted by: Primo Basculi postmodum Theutonici Flandrenses et ut rustice loquar, Brabansons, Hannuyers, Asperes, Pailler, Navar, Turlau, Vales, Roma, Cotarel, Catalans, Aragones. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 329

As war broke out such people poured into the Limousin; amongst their leaders was one Sancho and another who took the name of Curbaran.111 They gave a horrific dimension to war. When Richard surprised and defeated some of the rebels he captured their Basque mercenaries, killed many, throwing some into the river, and blinded ninety of them.112 Geoffrey draws careful distinctions between various kinds of mercenaries. A group called Paleari, who the ‘Young King’ soon struggled to pay, were sent to him by King Philip. They were appar-

106 107 108 109 110 111 112

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 330. Strickland (2016: 282–326). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 335. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 332. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 322–323. It would seem that he took the name of Kerbogah after the Turkish leader famously defeated at Antioch by the First Crusade, see Gesta Francorum, 66–70. ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 328.

80

france

ently especially cruel: when St Léonard refused them hospitality they sacked it, killing 155 of the inhabitants, and later they treated the abbey of Brantôme in much the same way. The death of the Young King on 11 June 1183 did not bring the fighting to an end. Richard, supported by Alfonso ii of Aragon (1164–1196), took Hautefort, and subsequently attacked all his enemies. Then, Geoffrey tells us, the Paleari were destroyed by Limousin nobles and the ‘Peace People’, Paciferi, at Châteaudun, while Curbana was defeated elsewhere and hanged with 500 of his fellow mercenaries. These ‘Peace People’, Geoffrey explains, arose from humble origins when a carpenter of Le Puy persuaded the city’s bishop to found an organization which would fight for the peace. This movement, called the Capuchins because of the hoods they wore, enjoyed great success, though some were killed at Château-Neuf by Mercadier.113 Their movement spread very widely across southern France and was a grass-root reaction to the mercenaries who joined a series of wars across Aquitaine, Gascony, Gothia and Provence at this time.114 It was possible because Third Lateran Council in 1179 had offered crusader privileges to all who would fight the mercenaries and heretics of the area.115 Geoffrey was at the abbey of St Pardoux at Arnac when rumour spread that mercenaries were nearby at Pompadour. This caused great fear, but proved at first to be false. But shortly after, under the leadership of Mercadier, Constantin de Born and Ralph of Bastelnau, they ravaged the area demanding ransom for the safety of the people, goods and churches they seized. The Paciferi were anxious to come to counter this latest mercenary raid but were advised against it by a knight, William, of Chamalières. Subsequently the Paciferi added Aymar of Limoges to their lists.116 The willingness of the Paciferi to confront Mercadier and his men explains in part their demise, for they were apparently destroyed by Louvart, another of Richard’s mercenary leaders.117 For Richard, any opposition was intolerable, because he was out to pacify the Aquitaine. Geoffrey was obviously very distressed by this experience and he curses the knight who advised the Paciferi not to come. In contrast to this lively account, Bernard Itier records only that ‘In the year of grace 1183, Henry the younger king died’, and that he had seized the treasure of St Martial.118

113 114 115 116 117 118

‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 338–339. Benjamin (1988); France (2012). Von Hefele (1973, 5.2: 1106–1108). ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, 340–341. Chronicon Universale Laudunensis, 40, 58. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 52–55.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

81

The Young King’s death at Martel in 1183 did not end the conflict, but Richard went on to strike down his enemies, and to ally with the emerging towns and merchants of the area against the restless lords who soon discovered that the royal officers, the seneschals, could be formidable.119 Even so Richard was never really able to impose a governmental structure on the Aquitaine which remained restless, though it is very notable that Bernard Itier’s record for these years is one of relative peace.120 Immediately after Richard’s death in 1199 Hugh of Lusignan captured Eleanor of Aquitaine and held her hostage until she agreed to concede the important country of La Marche to him, and King John later confirmed this.121 It is typical of Bernard’s brevity that he records none of the circumstances, merely stating that ‘Hugh of Lusignan seized the country of La Marche’. Bernard does not remark on the great events of the early thirteenth century, which had a considerable impact on the government of Aquitaine, notably John’s loss of Normandy in 1204, or his campaign of 1214 in the Loire and the battle of Bouvines.122 The only hint of these great events is the mention of John seizing the castle of Aixe in 1213 and the people of Limoges strengthening their defences against Philip Augustus.123 This silence is very odd because he later mentions that John killed his nephew Arthur, a major event of the conflict in which John lost Normandy.124 Yet during this period Bernard shows a keen interest in many matters, particularly ecclesiastical, across Christendom. He was certainly not uninterested in English affairs: in 1212 he records, albeit erroneously, the lifting of King John’s excommunication, the consecration of Stephen Langton in Germany and the elevation of a cousin of Innocent iii to Canterbury, before later mentioning the reconciliation of Stephen and John.125 In an autograph note he mentions John’s expedition to La Rochelle of 1206 (misdating it to 1207), but gives no hint that this was a major campaign across Aquitaine which seized Angers, but ultimately failed.126 Under 1216 he briefly notes that ‘Louis [Later Louis viii (1223–1226)] was ruling in England’ but says nothing else about the French

119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126

Aurell (2007: 187–196); Turner and Heiser (2000: 57–71). Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 54–59. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 60–61; for the full circumstances and the weak claim to La Marche pursued by Hugh, see Painter (1957). France (2015). Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 96–97. See below p. 82, n. 129. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 88–89 and n. 419, 90–91. It is briefly outlined in Poole (1955: 442).

82

france

invasion of England and the long wars lasting until 1217 which resulted in the victory of Henry iii (1216–1272).127 Slightly later he mentions Louis viii’s siege of Toulouse, en route to which he passed through Limoges; but he does not record any outcome.128 In a note relating to 1224–1225 Bernard recorded Louis viii’s campaign to seize Aquitaine, mentioning that King John had killed his nephew Arthur, ‘to whom the kingdom was due’, which was the cause of ‘a great controversy over King Henry [iii]’.129 This suggests some considerable knowledge of events in the Angevin-Capetian struggle in 1203–1204 on which he preferred to keep silent. As King John’s power collapsed and Anjou was lost Hugh of Lusignan, nominally loyal to the Capetians, became the paramount ruler in Poitou and the Limousin. Bernard Itier says that in 1224 ‘King Louis [viii] took the duchy of Aquitaine’.130 However, Henry iii mounted efforts to recover the Plantagenet lands and even his Treaty of Paris of 1259 with Louis ix left much in doubt.131 Bernard lived in an area deeply affected by enormous political changes in the early thirteenth century, without really providing much hint of them. The only topic of the wider world to which he devotes anything like consistent attention is the Albigensian crusade. Beyond that his focus is on the minutiae of life in the Limousin. And even in ecclesiastical matters, on which he spent much time, he could be very oblique. In 1214 the papal legate Robert of Courson came to Limoges and Bernard noted his preaching of the crusade which enjoyed some success. However, Abbot Hugh of St Martial had become ill, and the monks elected Peter le Guirsa to replace him. Robert sought to impose one Alelmus who, Bernard says, had bribed the legate. The upshot was that both parties appealed to the pope who ultimately quashed both elections and Peter de Naillac was chosen as abbot.132 In his chronicle Bernard Itier makes no direct mention of the dispute noting, however, that ‘our abbot-elect was not’ at Fourth Lateran in 1215, and later records the election of Peter Gaucelm as abbot in 1216.133 However, in a note Bernard makes it clear there was a dispute though he records few details, adding that Alelmus was give the abbey of La Souterrain, though later died en route to Rome to dispute control of St Martial.134 There is no mention

127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134

McGlynn (2011). Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 182–183. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 206–207. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 116–117. Le Goff (2009: 192–199). ‘Commemoratio’, 16–20. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 102–103. Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, 178–183.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

83

of the major Council of local clergy who finally settled the matter. Alelmus was English, as was Robert de Courson, though Bernard never mentions this. In the situation prevailing in Aquitaine in 1214–1216 when the future allegiance of the area was, to say the least, in doubt, this dispute had considerable political overtones. When we look at these two works we can only agree with Bisson that when it came to writing history ‘Fragmentation and divergence inhibited the production of finished or “official” works.’135 From a modern perspective Ademar of Chabannes (989–1034) is a dominating figure in the life of the abbey of St Martial. But as a historian he had no immediate successors, and the abbey had no chroniclers, something which is very evident on any reading of the Commemoratio abbatum basilice S. Marcialis. As a result, Geoffrey lacked any model and his work is poorly structured. He seems to have conceived his history as a mirror for princes revealing the ways of God to men. No doubt his own aristocratic pride was important in prompting this idea. St Martial, and its subordinate Vigeois, of which he became prior, had to negotiate their relations with a whole constellation of powerful figures and families with constantly shifting fortunes and attitudes. The dukes of Aquitaine were distant and not always friendly, while relations with the viscounts of Limoges were always fraught.136 After 1137 Aquitaine became part of France and then the Angevin lands, so this situation simply became even more complex. The violence which was inherent in this situation demanded the attention of the abbey of St Martial, so it was hard to give work any real focus beyond the local level. And St Martial was not well connected. Geoffrey’s remarks about events in the eastern Mediterranean reveal his interests and ambitions, but also how poor the flow of information was into the Aquitaine. In this situation Geoffrey’s wider ambitions faltered and his chronicle became essentially local, though he made efforts to widen his reach. Geoffrey’s real potential as a writer shows in his Part 2 when the whole work springs to life as he recounts the horrors of war with a vivid immediacy. But Geoffrey was an aristocrat, and for him violence, though he deplored it, was a part of life and hardly intimidating. To a degree this changed as the scale and savagery of fighting increased in the later years of his life. Bernard Itier produced what is for modern readers a very odd work. The conception is a very wide one and it is quite well sustained down to the twelfth century because Bernard was a fairly skilful condenser of the work of others. But

135 136

Bisson (1990: 308). Delhoume (2006).

84

france

when he reached the twelfth century, beyond narrowly ecclesiastical and liturgical matters he seemed to lose interest except in a few passages, largely confining himself to summarising Geoffrey and adding really very little. There is a visible narrowing of his interests as time goes on, with an increasing volume of material on the inner life, especially liturgical, of St Martial, and ecclesiastical matters in Aquitaine. All this has value, though really only as supplementary to other sources of information. The extraordinary narrowness of interest, even when the various notes are taken into account, is especially evident in what he tells us about the thirteenth century. This surely represents an intensification of what we can see even in Geoffrey. The turbulence and uncertainties of political existence marked Geoffrey’s range of material and absorbed his attention. Perhaps because of his noble heritage he tried to pick his way through the plethora of forces which surrounded St Martial, though with indifferent success. He struggled to integrate into this news of the wider world beyond Aquitaine. But the bitter conflicts and the terrible uncertainty which set in after 1199 and the death of Richard dominated Bernard’s writing to the extent that a withdrawal from wider matters is all too evident. Perhaps he felt it wise to be discreet, to the point of obscurity.

Bibliography Primary Sources Ademar of Chabannes. Chronicon. Ed. Pascale Bourgain with Richard Landes and Georges Pon. cccm 129. Turnhout: Brepols, 1999. Anonymi. Chronicon Universale Laudunensis 1154–1219. Ed. A. Cartellieri. Leipzig: Dysche & Paris: Picard, 1909. Anonymi Gesta Francorum et aliorum Hierosolimitanorum. Ed. Rosalind Hill. Edinburgh: Thomas Nelson, 1962. Baldric of Bourgueil. Historia Ierosolimitana. Ed. Steve Biddlecombe. Woodbridge: Boydell, 2014. ‘Commemoratio abbatum lemovicensium basilice Saint Martialis apostoli.’ In Chroniques de Saint-Martial de Limoges. Ed. H. Duplès-Aguer. Paris: 1884. 1–27. Referred to as ‘Commemoratio’, [page number].

Geoffroy de Breuil Geoffrey of Vigeois. ‘Chronica Gaufredi coenobitae monasterii D. Martialis Lemovicensis, ac prioris Vosiensis coenobii.’ In Novae bibliothecae manuscriptorum librorum tomus secundus: rerum aquitanicarum … Ed. Philippe Labbe. Paris: Sebastian Cramoisy, 1657. 279–342. Referred to as ‘Chronica Gaufredi’, [page number].

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

85

La chronique de Geoffroi de Breuil. Ed. Pierre Bottineau and Jean-Loup Lemaître. Paris: shf, 2021. Referred to as Chronique de Geoffroy, [page number]. Chronique de Geoffroy, prieur de Vigeois. Trad. François Bonnélye, précédée d’une étude par J. Sage. Tulle, impr. de Vve Detournelle, [s. d.], xv–201. La chronique de Geoffroy de Breuil, prieur de Vigeois. Ed. Pierre Botineau, Jean-Loup Lemaître, Bernadette Barrière, Stéphane Lafaye. Paris: Société de l’histoire de France, 2021.

Bernard Itier The Chronicle and Historical Notes of Bernard Itier. Ed. A.W. Lewis. Oxford: Clarendon, 2012. Referred to as Bernard Itier, Chronicle and Notes, [page number]. Bernard Itier. Chronique. Ed. Jean-Loup Lemaître. Classiques de l’histoire au moyen âge. Paris: Belles Lettres, 1998. [Frutolf of Michelsberg] Chronicles of the Investiture Contest: Frutolf of Michelsberg and his Continuators. Trans. T.J.H. McCarthy. Manchester: Manchester up, 2014. [Gislebert de Mons] La Chronique de Gislebert de Mons. Ed. L. Vanderkindere. Brussels: Kiessling, 1904. Trans L. Napran, Gilbert of Mons. Chronicle of Hainaut. Woodbridge: Boydell, 2005. Gregory Bechada. The Canso d’Antioca: An Occitan Epic Chronicle of the First Crusade. Ed. Carol Sweetenham and Linda M. Paterson. London: Routledge, 2003. Guibert of Nogent. The Deeds of God through the Franks. Trans R. Levine. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1997. Hefele, Carl J. von (1973). Histoire des Conciles. Ed. H. Leclerq. 9 vols. Hildesheim: Olms Verlag. Rodulfus Glaber. Historiarum Libri Quinque. Ed. J. France. Oxford: Clarendon, 1989. Saint Nicholas of Myra, Bari, and Manhattan: Biography of a Legend. Trans. Charles W. Jones. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978.

Secondary Literature Andrault-Schmitt, Claude, ed. (2006). St Martial de Limoges ambition politique et production culturelle (x–xiii siècles). Limoges: Presses universitaires de Limoges. Arbellot, François (1888). Étude historique et bibliographique sur Geoffroy de Vigeois. Limoges: Vve H. Ducourtieux. Archibald, Elizabeth, and Ada Putter, eds. (2009). The Cambridge Companion to the Arthurian Legend. Cambridge: cup. Aubrun, Michel (1974). ‘Le prieur Geoffroy de Vigeois et sa chronique.’ Revue Mabillon 58: 313–326. Aubrun, Michel (2000). ‘Le prieur Geoffroy de Vigeois et sa chronique.’ In Moines, paroisses et paysans. Poitiers: Centre d’Histoire. 91–102. Aurell, Martin (2007). The Plantagenet Empire 1154–1224. Trans. D. Crouch. Harlow: Pearson.

86

france

Barraclough, Geoffrey (1957). The Origins of Modern Germany. Oxford: Blackwell. Barber, Malcolm (2012). The Crusader States. New Haven: Yale. Barrière, Bernadette (1989). ‘Une agglomeration double (xie–xiie siècles).’ In Histoire de Limoges. Ed. L. Pérouas, Toulouse: Privat. 61–82. Barrière, Bernadette (2006). Limousin médiévale. Le temps des créations. Limoges: Presses universitaires. Barrière, Bernadette (2006a). ‘Généalogies et lignages. Un problème de transmission lignagere en Limousin au xie siècle.’ In Barrière (2006). 317–388. Becquet, J. (2001). ‘Bernard Itier et Grandmont.’ Bulletin de la société archéologique et historique du Limousin 129: 11–22. Benjamin, R. (1988). ‘A Forty Years War: Toulouse and the Plantagenets, 1156–1196.’ Historical Research 61: 270–285. Bisson, Thomas N. (1990). ‘Unheroed Pasts: History and Commemoration in South Frankland before the Albigensian Crusade.’ Speculum 65: 281–308. Boyer, Jean F. (2006). ‘Reliquaires et orfèverie.’ In Andrault-Schmitt (2006). 39–69. Bull, Marcus (1999). The Miracles of Our Lady of Rocamadour. Woodbridge: Boydell. Cowdrey, H.E.J. (1970a). The Cluniacs and the Gregorian Reform. Oxford: oup. Cowdrey, H.E.J. (1970b). ‘The Peace and Truce of God in the Eleventh Century.’ Past and Present 46: 42–67. Crouch, David (1990). William Marshal. Court, Career and Chivalry in the Angevin Empire 1147–1219. Harlow: Longman. Delhoume, Didier (2006). ‘Les vicomtes de Limoges et l’abbaye: difficultés et enjeux d’un pouvoir urbain (xe–xive siècles).’ In Andrault-Schmitt (2006). 71–90. Doležalová, Lucie (2009). ‘Ad Hoc Lists of Bernard Itier (1163–1225), Librarian of St. Martial de Limoges.’ In The Charm of a List: From the Sumerians to Computerised Data Processing. Ed. Lucie Doležalová. Cambridge: cup. 80–99. Dunbabin, Jean (1985). France in the Making 843–1180. Oxford: oup. Evans, Paul (1970). Early Trope Repertory of Saint Martial of Limoges. Princeton: Princeton up. Fawtier, Robert (1969). Capetian Kings of France. Trans. L. Butler and R.J. Adam. London: Macmillan. France, John (1999). Western Warfare in the Age of the Crusades. London: ucl Press. France, John (2012). ‘Mercenaries and Capuchins in Southern France in the Late Twelfth Century.’ In Shipping, Trade and Crusade in the Medieval Mediterranean. Ed. R. Gertwagen and E. Jeffreys. Farnham: Ashgate. 289–315. France, John (2010). ‘People against mercenaries. The Capuchins in Southern Gaul.’ Journal of Medieval Military History 8: 1–22. France, John (2015). ‘The Battle of Bouvines 27 July 1214.’ In The Medieval Way of War. Studies in Medieval Military History in Honor of Bernard S. Bachrach. Ed. G.L. Halfond. Aldershot: Ashgate. 251–272.

violence and monasticism in two aquitanian chronicles

87

Gillingham, John (1979). ‘The unromantic death of Richard i.’ Speculum 54: 18–41. Gillingham, John (2005). ‘Events and Opinions: Norman and English views of Aquitaine, 1152–1204.’ In The World of Eleanor of Aquitaine. Literature and Society in Southern France between the Eleventh and Thirteenth Centuries. Ed. Marcus Bull and Catherine Leglu. Woodbridge: Boydell. 29–36. Hamilton, Bernard (1996). ‘Continental Drift: Prester John’s progress through the Indies.’ In Prester John, the Mongols and the Ten Lost Tribes. Ed. B. Hamilton and C.F. Beckingham. Aldershot: Ashgate. 237–269. Head, Thomas, and R. Landes (1992). The Peace of God. Social violence and religious response in France around the year 1000. Ithaca: Cornell up. Hibbard, Laura A. (1963). Medieval Romance in England. New York: oup. Kaeuper, Richard W. (1999). Chivalry and Violence in Medieval Europe. Oxford: oup. Landes, Richard (1992). ‘The absence of St Martial of Limoges from the Pilgrim’s Guide: a note based on work in progress.’ In The Codex Calixtinus and the shrine of St James. Ed. J. Williams and A. Stones. Tübingen: Norr. 221–227. Le Goff, Jacques (2009). Saint Louis. Trans. G.E. Gollrad. Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press. Lemaitre, Jean-Loup (2006). ‘La bibliothèque de Saint-Martial aux xiie at xiiie siècles.’ In Andraut-Schmitt (2006). 357–372. Loud, Graham (2000). Age of Robert Guiscard. London: Longman. McCarthy, T.J.H., trans. (2014). See [Frutolf of Michelsberg] Chronicles of the Investiture Contest. McGlynn, Sean (2011). Blood cries afar; the forgotten invasion of England 1216. Stroud: Spellmount. Nicholson, Helen. (2001). The Knights Hospitaller. Woodbridge: Boydell. O’Neil, John P. (1996). Enamels of Limoges 1100–1350. New York: Metropolitan Museum. Painter Sidney (1957). ‘The Lords of Lusignan in the eleventh and twelfth centuries.’ Speculum 32: 29–47. Poole, Austin L. (1955). Domesday Book to Magna Carta 1087–1216. Oxford: Clarendon. Rech, Régis (2006). ‘Le Limousin entre Capétiens et Plantagenêt chez les chroniqueurs de Saint Martial au xiiie siècle.’ In Andrault-Schmitt (2006). 115–131. Rech, Régis. ‘Geoffrey de Vigeois.’ emc. Consulted online 31/05/2020. Reilly, Bernard F. (1995). The Contest of Christian and Muslim Spain, 1031–1157. Oxford: Blackwell. Russo, Luigi (2009). Boemondo. Figlio del Guiscardo e principe di Antiochia. Avellino: Elio Sellino. Strickland, Matthew (2016). Henry the Young King 1155–1183. New Haven: Yale up. Turner, Ralph V., and Richard R. Heiser (2000). The Reign of Richard Lionheart, Ruler of the Angevin Empire, 1189–1199. Harlow: Pearson. Turner, Ralph V. (2009). Eleanor of Aquitaine, Queen of France, Queen of England. New Haven: Yale.

88

france

Vérynaud, Georges (1979). ‘Le lotissement de la motte vicomtale à Limoges.’ Revue archéologique du centre de la France 18: 133–136. Vincent, Catherine (2000). ‘Pons of Melgueil.’ In Encyclopedia of the Middle Ages. London: Routledge. 1164.

5 Entre convergences et dissonances, le maître de Paris et d’Acre et l’Estoire d’Outremer Kasser Helou

Résumé The Paris-Acre master, a French artist raised and trained in Paris, established in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem around 1280, bringing overseas his Western style. There, in five years, he was ordered miniatures for three manuscripts of the Estoire d’outremer, one of the main Frankish sources for the history of the Crusades. Each of these 64 miniatures provides a renewed look on the cronicle’s text but maintain a relationship of relative autonomy with it. If the points of convergence are numerous, the paintings nevertheless orient the reading towards a dynastic history and frankly stand out from the chronicle by their refusal to represent the defeats. This iconographic cycle, essentially resulting from the transformation of previous cycles, thus constructs its own story, a story that is neither really faithful nor really independent of the text of the chronicle, a story that develops in parallel and which offers a slightly distorting mirror at the work of chroniclers.

L’Estoire d’Outremer, également connue sous le titre d’Histoire d’Éracles, est une vaste fresque historique constituée en premier lieu de la traduction française de l’Historia rerum in partibus transmarinis gestarum de Guillaume de Tyr (c.1130– 1186), qui retrace l’histoire de l’Orient latin depuis 635 jusqu’en 1184, cette chronique étant ensuite prolongée de diverses continuations qui portent le récit jusqu’en 1277. Relevant autant du genre didactique que de la littérature aristocratique, il s’agit d’une des principales sources franques de l’histoire des croisades et d’un des tous premiers monuments de l’historiographie en prose de langue française. Comme l’attestent les cinquante-deux manuscrits médiévaux parvenus jusqu’à nous,1 son succès fut remarquable et ce texte, copié pendant

1 Folda (1973: 90–95). Selon cette classification, il s’agit des manuscrits qui vont de F1 à F6 et de F30 à F78, à l’exception de F59 (copie moderne de F60), de F75 (copie moderne de F77) et de F76 (copie de l’ed. Martène).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_006

90

helou

trois siècles, connut une large diffusion aussi bien en France, en Angleterre, en Italie qu’au Proche-Orient. Trois de ces manuscrits orientaux ont été copiés dans les années 1280 à SaintJean d’Acre et ont été enluminés par un peintre parisien installé en Terre sainte, un peintre que Jaroslav Folda a nommé pour cette raison ‘le maître de Paris et d’Acre’.2 Chacune de ces commandes a été l’occasion d’un regard projeté du peintre sur le texte, regard qui, inscrit dans la matérialité des manuscrits, guide et oriente par conséquent la lecture de l’œuvre ou invite à sa relecture. L’objet de cette étude est d’observer comment ces trois commandes, portant sur une même œuvre et passées à un même artiste à quelques années d’écart, ont offert trois occasions distinctes de relire cette Estoire, de la commenter et d’en extraire la ‘substantifique moelle’, quitte à s’éloigner de la lettre du texte. Ainsi, après avoir prolongé cette introduction par la présentation de l’œuvre du maître et des trois manuscrits en question, nous étudierons les relations texte-image en observant, dans un premier temps, comment l’image opère un inévitable travail de sélection au sein de l’immense corpus textuel et comment cette sélection, projetant un regard sur l’œuvre, produit un effet de relecture. Dans un second temps, nous verrons les convergences entre la chronique et son iconographie et ce que ces convergences doivent à l’héritage des cycles antérieurs, puis nous mettrons en lumière les innovations propres au maître, avant de conclure sur la principale dissonance entre texte et image, dissonance qui prend place dans les derniers livres de la chronique.

1

L’œuvre du maître de Paris et d’Acre

L’œuvre du maître de Paris et d’Acre, qui nous est parvenue à travers onze manuscrits copiés entre 1276 et 1291, connaît deux grandes périodes. Le peintre débute à Paris, où, au service de grandes institutions, il travaille sur des manuscrits en latin qui proposent des sujets essentiellement religieux: Paris Archives Nationales, pièce S. 1626 (i). Censier de l’abbaye de Sainte-Geneviève, 1276 Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF), ms. lat. 5334. Libellus de saint Martin, 1276– 1280 New York Morgan Library, ms. 494. Bible, c.1280

2 Folda (1976; 1996).

entre convergences et dissonances

91

Puis, pour une raison inconnue, il fait le passage d’outremer en 1280 et s’établit à Saint-Jean d’Acre où il trouve un public aristocratique qui réclame des œuvres à l’image de ses préoccupations et de ses centres d’intérêt. Cette élite franque lui commande alors des miniatures pour des textes en langue française aux sujets plus séculiers, et avec une prédilection particulière pour les récits historiques: Paris BnF, ms. nouv. acq. fr. 1404. Bible d’Acre, 1280–1281 Chantilly Musée Condé, ms. 433 (590). De Inventione, Rhetorica ad Herennium, Cicéron, 1282 Paris BnF, ms. fr. 9084, Estoire d’Outremer, 1286 Boulogne-sur-Mer bm, ms. 142. Estoire d’Outremer, 1287 Bruxelles Bibliothèque royale, ms. 10212. Faits des Romains, 1287–1288 Venise Biblioteca Marciana, ms. fr. app. 20 (= 265). Livre des Assises, c.1290 Paris BnF, ms. lat. 11907. Credo, 1290 Florence Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana (bml), ms. Pluteus lxi.10, Estoire d’Outremer, 1291

Si cet exil lui a permis de diversifier son travail, ce sont donc pas moins de trois manuscrits de l’Estoire d’Outremer que le maître a dû exécuter en quelques années, pour un total de soixante-quatre miniatures: Paris BnF, ms. fr. 9084,3 Acre, 1286, Estoire d’Outremer jusqu’en 1264, 419 fols., vingt-deux miniatures (fols. 1, 20v, 31v, 42, 53, 64v, 77, 89v, 101, 112, 125v, 169, 182v, 197v, 214, 232v, 255v, 272, 290, 307v, 331 et 395v). Il n’y a pas de miniature pour les livres 12 et 13, et seules les dix-sept dernières miniatures, du livre 6 au livre 25, sont l’œuvre du maître. Boulogne-sur-mer bm, ms. 142,4 Acre, 1287, Estoire d’Outremer jusqu’en 1274, 363 fols., vingt-deux miniatures (fols. 1, 16, 24v, 32, 40v, 49v, 60v, 71, 80v, 89v, 101, 141, 153v, 168, 183v, 199, 218, 233v, 249v, 264v, 283v, 337v). Il n’y a pas de miniature pour les livres 12 et 13.

3 Désormais ‘Paris’. 4 Désormais ‘Boulogne’.

92

helou

Florence bml, pluteus lxi.10,5 Acre, 1291 et Italie, fin du xiiie siècle (fols. 336v-349), Estoire d’Outremer jusqu’en 1277, 349 fols., vingt-six miniatures (fols. 10, 24, 33, 42, 51, 60v, 70v, 80v, 89v, 99, 111v, 126v, 138v, 149v, 162v, 174v, 188v, 203, 219v, 232v, 246, 258v, 275, 292, 316 et 336v). La dernière miniature, de confection plus tardive, a été réalisée en Vénétie par un peintre italien.

On notera que les commanditaires des codex ne nous sont pas connus et que pour sa première œuvre, ‘Paris’, le peintre complète le travail d’un artiste local au style italo-byzantin6 qui a peint les cinq premières miniatures et dont il reprendra les tableaux dans les manuscrits suivants, transposés dans son propre style:

ill. 5.1 Paris, livre 5, fol. 53 gallica.bnf.fr / bnf

ill. 5.2 Paris, livre 6, fol. 64v

Le style du maître peut être qualifié de ‘gothique parisien courtois’, ce style du troisième quart du xiiie siècle, défini par François Avril comme une évolution de l’enluminure gothique ‘vers un style plus maniéré, caractérisé par la présence de figures au canon allongé et aux attitudes déhanchées.’7 Le maître a par ailleurs développé un certain nombre de traits distinctifs, recensés et étudiés par Jaroslav Folda.8 On relèvera à cet égard la boucle des cheveux, les yeux ‘en goutte d’eau’, avec ce trait qui les prolonge en direction des oreilles et qui donne l’impression de lunettes, l’ombrage qu’apportent ces pommettes légèrement 5 6 7 8

Désormais ‘Florence’. Livres 1 à 5. Avril (1995: 21). Folda (1976; 1996).

entre convergences et dissonances

93

colorées, le drapé ‘en V allongé’ et ses plis ‘en trou de serrure’, les personnages placés sur la pointe des pieds, leur donnant parfois l’air d’être suspendus:

ill. 5.3 Florence, fol. 316 florence, bml. su concessione del mic, vietata ogni ulteriore riproduzione con qualsiasi mezzo.

Le maître de Paris et d’Acre a par ailleurs mis en œuvre un langage pictural qui s’appuie sur un véritable répertoire de formes graphiques. Ce lexique visuel lui permet, comme il le fait avec les couleurs de sa palette, de sélectionner parmi un ensemble hétéroclite de formes (costumes, gestes, poses, expressions de visage, éléments architecturaux, objets, meubles, armes…) qui sont autant d’unités de base. Les reprenant à l’identique, il peut les combiner à volonté pour aboutir à des compositions nouvelles. Ce vocabulaire iconographique constitue ainsi une véritable ‘grammaire pour l’œil’. Nous pouvons ainsi, à titre d’exemple, observer sa palette de couvre-chefs, éléments essentiels de la représentation des personnages: à la cour, la tête nue des seigneurs s’oppose à la tête couronnée des monarques, roi ou empereur, et aux deux coiffes ecclésiastiques, le bonnet épiscopal et la tonsure de moine, auxquelles on peut associer les tempes rasées d’un pénitent; à la guerre, se croisent cottes de mailles, chapeaux de fer et casques d’assaut, ces deux derniers n’étant portés que par les chrétiens. Le maître dispose également de quatre coiffes exotiques, le turban, deux bonnets orientaux et le chapeau grec, et de deux coiffes féminines, la longue

94

helou

chevelure et le voile. Ces éléments graphiques se déploient alors selon une distribution horizontale, au sein de chaque miniature, permettant l’identification des personnages, et selon une distribution verticale, par leur réutilisation d’une miniature à l’autre:

ill. 5.4 Florence, fol. 219v

ill. 5.6

Paris, fol. 197

ill. 5.5 Florence, fol. 232v

entre convergences et dissonances

95

Cela nous conduit au dernier point à retenir concernant le style du maître de Paris et d’Acre, à savoir le principe de variété, principe fondamental, principe qui anime l’ensemble de ses réalisations. Voici, pour exemple la scène du couronnement de Baudouin, au livre 10. La variété est interne à l’image, costumes et attitudes diffèrent systématiquement d’un personnage à l’autre, y compris, comme ces deux évêques, lorsqu’ils ont le même rang et participent de la même action. Mais la variété est également interne au manuscrit, pour des scènes similaires, telle la scène du couronnement d’Amaury, livre 19, et interne à l’œuvre du maître pour des scènes identiques dans des manuscrits différents, comme le montre le manuscrit de Boulogne. Ce principe de variété opère donc des relectures, et modifie, d’une miniature à l’autre, le regard porté sur tel ou tel épisode:

ill. 5.7 Florence, livre 10, fol. 99

96

helou

ill. 5.8 Boulogne, livre 10, fol. 89v boulogne-sur-mer, bm, tous droits réservés

2

ill. 5.9 Florence, livre 19, fol. 219v

L’inévitable travail de sélection

La première et principale dissonance entre le texte et ses enluminures est le produit du travail de sélection nécessairement opérée par l’iconographie au sein de l’immense masse textuelle. L’image, ponctuelle et synthétique, est en effet dans l’impossibilité de rendre compte de l’ensemble des éléments du récit. Cette impossibilité est par ailleurs accentuée par la différence d’espace consacré au texte et à l’image: dans le manuscrit de Florence, manuscrit le plus complet, les vingt-cinq miniatures occupent environ huit colonnes et demi sur mille trois cent quatre-vingt-douze. Voici un tableau comparatif qui illustre ce phénomène de sélection. Il présente les trois manuscrits9 par ordre chronologique et indique, pour chacun des vingt-cinq livres,10 le sujet de l’enluminure,11 l’espace textuel correspondant et sa localisation,12 sachant qu’il y a environ vingt-cinq chapitres par livre: 9

10 11 12

Notons que Paris et Boulogne, chez qui les livres ne sont pas numérotés, ne proposent pas de miniatures aux livres 12 et 13, et présentent ces passages comme de simples ouvertures de chapitre, pas plus qu’au livre 24, où ils offrent, de plus, une autre version du texte. Les miniatures du peintre ultramarin sont en italiques. Si la miniature est à deux étages, les sujets sont séparés d’une barre transversale. Avec le signe ‘ - ’, si la scène est antérieure à son illustration.

97

entre convergences et dissonances

Livre 1 Paris

Livre 2

Livre 5

Ambassade cilicienne auprès de Tancrède

Siège d’Antioche

Départ pour Concile de Ambasla Croisade Nicée sade cilicienne auprès de Tancrède

Siège d’Antioche

ch. 1

ch. -12 à -8

ch. 1

Pèlerins priant au Départ pour Siège de Saint-Sépulcre la Croisade Nicée ch. 13 ch. 1 ch. 6 à 11

Livre 6 Paris

Livre 4

Pierre l’Ermite Départ pour Concile de priant au Saintla Croisade Nicée Sépulcre / Pierre l’Ermite et le patrirache de Jérusalem

Boulogne Pierre l’Ermite priant au SaintSépulcre / Pierre l’Ermite et le patrirache de Jérusalem ch. 15 / ch. 14 Florence

Livre 3

Livre 7

Livre 8

Massacre Ambassade auprès Jérusalem d’Antioche d’Alexis Comnène ch. -2 à -1 ch. 1 ch. 1 à 4

ch. -1

Siège Chevauchée contre des d’Antioche troupes musulmanes ch. 14 à 17 ch. 2

Livre 9 Élections du roi et du patriarche ch. 1 à 2

Boulogne Massacre Ambassade auprès Croisés devant Pèlerins priant au Saint-Sépulcre d’Antioche d’Alexis Comnène Jérusalem et débat entre clercs et chevaliers ch. -2 à -1 ch. 1 ch. 5 ch. 1 Florence

Massacre Ambassade auprès Jérusalem d’Antioche d’Alexis Comnène ch. -2 à -1 ch. 1 ch. 1 à 4

Pèlerins priant au Saint-Sépulcre ch. 1

98

helou

Livre 10

Livre 11

Livre 12

Livre 13

Paris

Couronnement de Baudouin ch. 9

Départ de Bohémond / Mariage des filles de Philippe ch. 1 / ch. 1

∅

∅

Boulogne

Couronnement de Baudouin ch. 9

Mariage des filles de Philippe

∅

∅

Mort de Baudouin ch. -1

Flotte croisée en direction de Tyr ch. 3

Florence

Paris

Couronnement de Baudouin ch. 9

ch. 1

Livre 15

Livre 16

Livre 17

Couronnement de Foulques

Siège de Shayzar, le comte d’Édesse et le prince d’Antioche restent au camp ch. 1 à 2

Mort de Foulques et couronnement de Baudouin iii ch. -1 et ch. 3

Concile d’Acre

Siège de Shayzar / Le comte d’Édesse et le prince d’Antioche restent au camp ch. 1 / ch. 2

Chasse au lièvre / Accident de Foulques ch. -1 / ch. -1

Siège de Shayzar

Couronnement de Baudouin iii ch. 3

Boulogne Couronnement de Foulques ch. 2 Couronnement de Foulques ch. 2

Livre 18 Paris

Bohémond et Tancrède

Livre 14

ch. 2

Florence

ch. 1

ch. 1

Livre 19

ch. 1 Concile d’Acre

ch. 1 Concile d’Acre ch. 1

Livre 20

Supplice du Patriarche Couronnement Ambassade auprès de Manuel d’Antioche d’Amaury Comnène ch. 1 ch. 1 ch. 1

Livre 21 Mort d’Amaury ch. -1

99

entre convergences et dissonances (suite)

Livre 18

Livre 19

Livre 20

Livre 21

Boulogne Supplice du Patriarche Couronnement Ambassade auprès de Manuel d’Antioche d’Amaury Comnène / Escorte de la princesse Marie ch. 1 ch. 1 ch. 1 / ch. 1

ch. -1

Florence Supplice du Patriarche Couronnement Ambassade auprès de Manuel d’Antioche d’Amaury Comnène ch. 1 ch. 1 ch. 1

Mort d’Amaury ch. -1

Livre 22 Paris

Livre 23

Livre 24

Le prince d’Antioche Couronnement ∅ et le comte de Tripoli de Baudouin iv devant Jérusalem ch. 1 ch. 1

Boulogne Mariage de Sibylle et Couronnement ∅ de Guy de Lusignan de Baudouin iv ch. 1 ch. 1 Florence

Mort d’Amaury

Livre 25 Ambassade auprès de Frédéric ii

ch. 1 Ambassade auprès de Frédéric ii / Flotte des croisés ch. 1 / ch. 4

Mariage de Sibylle et Couronnement Siège Mariage et couronnement de de Guy de Lusignan de Baudouin iv d’Acre Marie et de Jean de Brienne ch. 1 ch. 1 ch. 7 et 8 ch. 1

Premier enseignement à tirer de ce tableau, le processus de sélection est drastique puisque la plupart des miniatures illustrent des épisodes relatés en moins d’un chapitre, et parfois même une seule ligne (Florence l. 9, Paris l. 22). Trois épisodes font exception: Paris et Florence l. 8, Boulogne l. 5 et Florence l. 4 (quatre chapitres) et Florence l. 3 (cinq chapitres). Deuxième enseignement immédiat, presque toutes les miniatures représentent une scène relatée non loin de là dans le texte. Il s’agit presque systématiquement d’une scène narrée dans son environnement immédiat.13 Les 13

D’ailleurs, si le sujet est traité au chapitre 2 ou 3, il est souvent annoncé dès le chapitre 1.

100

helou

exceptions sont très peu nombreuses, puisqu’elles sont au nombre de neuf sur soixante-quatre: Boulogne et Florence l. 1; Florence l. 3; Florence l. 4; Boulogne l. 5; Paris, Boulogne et Florence l. 9; Florence l. 24. D’autres remarques peuvent être faites sur ce tableau. On peut ainsi noter qu’un même chapitre peut fournir jusqu’à trois scènes différentes. C’est le cas au livre 11 avec le départ de Bohémond, le mariage des filles de Philippe (scène reprise dans Boulogne) et la scène de Bohémond et Tancrède:

ill. 5.10 Paris, fol. 125

3

ill. 5.11 Florence, fol. 111v

Un effet de relecture

Cette sélection est inévitable mais elle n’est pas neutre. Elle favorise des sujets bien déterminés et porte sur le texte un éclairage particulier qui oriente la lecture que l’on peut faire de l’œuvre. Le premier de ces effets de relecture, celui de la mise en exergue de certains passages du texte, est généralisé. En effet, à l’instar des rubriques qu’elles côtoient, les miniatures produisent à la fois un effet d’annonce et un effet de mise en valeur de l’épisode concerné: la peinture fait écho au texte et l’enlumine, le ‘met en lumière’, et donne par conséquent à ces passages textuels un poids particulier qui, du coup, en détermine la lecture. On notera à ce propos un effet de relecture plus particulier aux livre 1 de Boulogne et de Florence. Ouvrant le livre sur Pierre l’Ermite ou sur les pèlerins du Saint-Sépulcre, épisodes qui ne prennent place qu’en milieu de livre, ces miniatures font d’une certaine manière, par ce hiatus avec le texte environ-

101

entre convergences et dissonances

nant, passer la grosse douzaine de chapitres qui résument l’histoire de l’Orient depuis 635 pour un simple prologue, comme si le vrai début du récit se situait au xie siècle. Accueilli par ces images et influencé par l’horizon d’attente qu’elles créent comme par un pacte de lecture, le lecteur est finalement amené à voir la moitié du premier livre de l’œuvre comme un préambule – ce qu’il est effectivement. Cependant, c’est surtout par l’accumulation de scènes similaires, véritables sujets de prédilection du cycle iconographique, que la lecture du texte est la plus orientée. On peut en effet observer la prédominance des tableaux de couronnement, de noces ou de funérailles royales:

ill. 5.12 Paris, fol. 290v

ill. 5.13 Boulogne, fol. 264v

ill. 5.14 Florence, fol. 174v

Ces scènes sont au nombre de vingt-huit sur soixante-quatre. Paris présente ainsi cinq couronnements pour seulement deux scènes de combat.14 Et c’est sans compter les miniatures qui traitent couronnements, noces et funérailles conjointement (voir, page suivante, ILL. 5.15 et 5.16). Cette galerie de hauts faits et d’événements propres à la famille royale de Jérusalem a pour effet de tirer la lecture vers un sens particulier, celui d’une Histoire dynastique, qui n’est qu’un aspect du texte parmi d’autres. Ainsi, l’accent mis sur ces thèmes, et notamment celui de la transmission du pouvoir au sein du royaume latin, crée un biais qui conditionne la réception du texte et incite à l’interpréter comme une chronique nationale – ce qu’elle n’est pas totalement.

14

La proportion est de quatre pour quatre dans Boulogne et de six pour cinq dans Florence. On peut y voir une certaine remilitarisation de l’iconographie, mais cela est surtout vrai pour les livres 3 et 4, où Florence remplace des scènes de concile et d’ambassade par un siège et un combat de cavalerie. Cette remilitarisation fait-elle écho au contexte dramatique de la fin des années 1280?

102

helou

ill. 5.15 Florence, fol. 275

4

ill. 5.16 Florence, fol. 316

Une œuvre en résonance avec le texte

Cependant, le cycle iconographique ainsi constitué ne s’est pas non plus développé sans rencontrer de véritables convergences avec la chronique, sans être ‘à l’image’ du texte. En voici deux exemples. Il y a tout d’abord, le traitement réservé aux espaces urbains. Comme dans le texte, la ville des miniatures est un espace réduit à sa fonction militaire (et beaucoup plus marginalement politique et religieuse). Elle n’a ni rue, ni foule, ni place, ni marché, ni boutique, ni atelier. Elle n’est que murailles et fortifications. Ce n’est finalement qu’une place forte, un refuge pour les troupes, un lieu d’approvisionnement et de repos, et rien dans le récit ni dans les miniatures ne distingue véritablement une ville d’une autre. Caractérisée par ses murs, ses tours et ses portes, la ville se trouve redoublée en son sein par la citadelle, véritable ville dans la ville, qui en constitue au bout du compte la quintessence. Et d’un point de vue narratif, dans la miniature comme dans la chronique, la ville est amie ou ennemie, et constitue un espace fortifié à conquérir ou à protéger (voir, page suivante, ILL. 5.17 à 5.22). Autre convergence avec le texte de la chronique, le rôle marginal laissé aux personnages féminins. Leur espace est en effet très restreint et l’on ne trouve que seize personnages féminins. Ces personnages ne sont présents que sur dix miniatures, ne sont jamais plus de deux à la fois et, même dans ce cas, les femmes toujours minoritaires. Leur rôle est de plus limité à quatre fonctions, toutes dépendantes du masculin ou relevant d’une fonction subalterne: on

103

entre convergences et dissonances

ill. 5.17 Nicée florence, fols. 33, 42, 80 v , 138 v , 162 v et 292

ill. 5.18 Antioche florence, fols. 33, 42, 80 v , 138 v , 162 v et 292

ill. 5.19 Jérusalem florence, fols. 33, 42, 80 v , 138 v , 162 v et 292

ill. 5.20 Tyr florence, fols. 33, 42, 80 v , 138 v , 162 v et 292

ill. 5.21 Shayzar florence, fols. 33, 42, 80 v , 138 v , 162 v et 292

ill. 5.22 Acre florence, fols. 33, 42, 80 v , 138 v , 162 v et 292

ill. 5.23 Paris, fol. 290v

ill. 5.24 Boulogne, fol. 264v

ill. 5.25 Florence, fol. 316

104

helou

dénombre sept promises accompagnées de deux suivantes, une jeune épouse, et six ‘pleureuses’. Ainsi, comme dans le texte de la chronique, les miniatures dessinent un monde essentiellement masculin, un univers où la femme, qui se distingue à l’image par son voile ou sa longue chevelure et par sa robe longue, est essentiellement un objet que l’on marie, un personnage dont la fonction se limite à pleurer les défunts et transmettre la couronne. Rarement nommées dans le texte et rarement montrées dans les miniatures, les femmes ne sont qu’épouses, sœurs, filles et mères (voir, page précédente, ILL. 5.21 à 5.23). En revanche, si la femme compte peu, son mariage lui est d’importance. Si c’est bien entendu le cas dans le monde féodal et monarchique en général, c’est d’autant plus vrai dans le royaume latin de Jérusalem où les filles de roi transmettent la couronne à leurs époux. Le sort du royaume dépend alors en grande partie du choix de ce futur roi, et donc de leurs noces.15 La figure de la promise constitue par conséquent un instrument diplomatique précieux auquel la chronique comme les miniatures accordent un rôle central, et les stratégies matrimoniales, objets de manœuvres nombreuses, occupent naturellement une place considérable aussi bien dans le texte que dans les cycles iconographiques: dix personnages féminins16 sur seize y prennent part.

5

L’héritage des cycles antérieurs

L’œuvre du maître de Paris et d’Acre est tributaire de cycle anciens. Lorsqu’il reçoit sa première commande, au début des années 1280, il n’a pas sous les yeux une page blanche mais de nombreux modèles, l’Estoire d’Outremer ayant alors déjà largement été diffusée et illustrée en Terre sainte.17 Cinq manuscrits de l’Estoire,18 copiés outremer et antérieurs à 1275, sont ainsi parvenus jusqu’à nous: Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2628; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2632; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2826; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 9086; Roma, bav, ms. Pal. Lat. 1963. Par ailleurs, de la production parisienne de cette époque, à laquelle le maître a pu être exposé dans sa jeunesse, nous conservons: Bern, Burgerbibliotek, ms. 112; Bern, Burgerbiblio15

16 17 18

Ce fut le cas en 1131, lors du mariage de la reine Mélisende, fille de Baudouin ii, avec Foulques d’Anjou; en 1186, lors du mariage de la reine Sibylle, fille d’Amaury 1er, avec Guy de Lusignan; en 1192, lors des mariages de la reine Isabelle, seconde fille d’Amaury 1er, avec Conrad de Montferrat, en avril, et Henri de Champagne, en mai; en 1198, lors du mariage de cette même Isabelle avec d’Amaury de Lusignan; en 1210, lors du mariage de la reine Marie, fille de Conrad 1er, avec Jean de Brienne. En comptant les deux suivantes. Voir Folda (1976), et Hugo Buchthal (1957). Folda (1973: 92, 95).

105

entre convergences et dissonances

tek, ms. 163; Paris, Arsenal, ms. 5220; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 67; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 779; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2630; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2827; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 9081; Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 24208.19 Le maître s’inscrit donc dans une tradition connue de tous, et en particulier de ses commanditaires, tradition qui détermine l’élaboration de ce cycle iconographique. Nécessité ou facilité, le choix des ses sujets ne lui appartient donc pas entièrement. Cet héritage est manifeste lorsque l’on compare le travail du maître et celui de son prédécesseur dans le manuscrit de Paris:20

Livre 1 Paris, 1286

Pierre l’Ermite priant au Saint-Sépulcre / Pierre l’Ermite et le patrirache de Jérusalem Boulogne, Pierre l’Ermite priant au 1287 Saint-Sépulcre / Pierre l’Ermite et le patrirache de Jérusalem Florence, Pèlerins priant au Saint1291 Sépulcre

Livre 2

Livre 3

Livre 4

Départ pour Concile de Ambassade la Croisade Nicée cilicienne auprès de Tancrède Départ pour Concile Ambassade la Croisade de Nicée cilicienne auprès de Tancrède Départ pour Siège de Siège la Croisade Nicée d’Antioche

Livre 5 Siège d’Antioche

Siège d’Antioche

Chevauchée contre des troupes musulmanes

On remarque qu’en 1287 le maître de Paris et d’Acre reprend exactement les tableaux du maître précédent, tandis qu’en 1291 il s’en écarte fortement, ne reprenant que le tableau du livre 2, et celui du livre 5, qu’il déplace au livre 4. Cet exemple caractérise parfaitement deux phénomènes contraires: le poids de l’héritage d’un côté, et son émancipation progressive de l’autre. Si le maître est tributaire du passé, il n’en est pas l’esclave.

6

Des innovations

Le maître a néanmoins su, ou dû, s’extraire parfois de cet héritage pour proposer des innovations substantielles. On notera d’ailleurs que la reprise d’un

19 20

Les manuscrits en italiques ne sont pas enluminés. En italiques dans le tableau.

106

helou

tableau canonique n’exclut pas les modifications et les changements de perspectives, à l’instar de la ‘démilitarisation’21 du livre 2 entre 1287 et 1291:

ill. 5.26 Paris, fol. 20v

ill. 5.27 Boulogne, fol. 16

ill. 5.28 Florence, fol. 24

Les innovations du maître de Paris et d’Acre sont en réalité conditionnées par deux phénomènes. Le premier phénomène est un changement formel, avec le passage de la miniature à deux étages des cycles antérieurs à la miniature simple, changement de structure qui induit une sélection supplémentaire ou la recomposition des scènes par un travail de synthèse et de simplification. Concentrer deux scènes en une impose des réaménagements qui sont autant d’inventions et qui, au sortir du processus de synthèse, finissent par enfanter une scène entièrement nouvelle. Voici, à titre d’exemple, le traitement réservé au diptyque que constituait la mort de Baudouin iv et l’intronisation de Baudouin v (voir, page suivante, ILL. 5.29 à 5.31). On voit que la réunion de ces deux motifs chez le maître de Paris et d’Acre en renouvelle substantiellement le contenu: dans Paris (et Boulogne), Baudouin iv couronne lui-même son fils depuis son lit de mort, tandis que, dans Florence, le roi, alité mais encore vivant, est le témoin direct de cette passation de pouvoir, dont il livre une forme de commentaire par l’expression de son visage, avec cet air aussi dubitatif que douloureux qui semble annoncer les malheurs à venir.

21

Un choix qui peut paraître paradoxal, compte tenu de la montée des périls, et qui se fait à rebours de la militarisation des livres 3 et 4. Mais ce n’est pas l’ultime paradoxe de ce manuscrit, qui est le plus luxueux des trois alors qu’il a été produit à quelques mois (semaines?) de la chute définitive de Saint-Jean d’Acre: la bataille à venir rendaitelle encore plus impérieuse la nécessité d’écrire et d’enluminer?

107

entre convergences et dissonances

ill. 5.29 Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2628 fol. 246, vers 1260

ill. 5.30 Paris, fol. 331

ill. 5.31 Florence, fol. 275

Le second phénomène qui conditionne ces innovations est l’existence de deux traditions iconographiques antérieures en Terre sainte, celle du premier cycle croisé et celle du second cycle croisé. Introduisant du ‘jeu’, l’existence de deux traditions concurrentes offrait en effet au maître la possibilité de ‘faire son marché’ entre ces deux traditions, le laissant libre de puiser à ces sources diverses en arbitrant entre différentes options. Ainsi, pour la représentation du supplice d’Antioche, il disposait de deux modèles, avec une première version, que l’on trouve dans le manuscrit Paris, BnF, ms. fr 2628 (vers 1260), que l’on peut qualifier d’atténuée, qui, sans nier la dimension christique de la scène, préservait en quelque sorte la dignité du patriarche en le montrant vêtu, et une seconde version, que l’on trouve dans le manuscrit Lyon, bm, ms. 828 (vers 1280), marquée par davantage de brutalité, le patriarche y étant représenté nu. Nous voyons alors comment le maître a été en mesure de puiser aux deux sources et de sélectionner, au gré de ses besoins ou de ses inspirations, parmi les divers éléments des cycles antérieurs (voir, page suivante, ILL. 5.32 à 5.36). Le fait de réutiliser des éléments iconographiques antérieur permet également des phénomènes de déplacement sémantique. Le geste qui consiste à donner la clef de la ville comme signe de transmission du pouvoir a par exemple été fourni par le second cycle iconographique mais, dans ce modèle, Antioche est livrée aux croisés grâce à une trahison au livre 5, tandis que dans Florence, cette même ville d’Antioche est confiée à Tancrède par Bohémond au livre 11 (voir, pages suivantes, ILL. 5.37 et 5.38). Si le geste a la même signification, son changement de contexte, et même de direction puisque le mouvement du don se fait désormais de l’extérieur vers l’intérieur, en modifie considérablement le sens et, loin d’être une simple reprise, ce motif constitue une véritable innovation.

108

helou

ill. 5.32 Lyon, bm, ms. 828, fol. 205 (Tous droits réservés)

ill. 5.34 Paris, fol. 232v

ill. 5.33 Paris, BnF, ms. fr. 2628, fol. 175

ill. 5.35 Boulogne, fol. 199

ill. 5.36 Florence, fol. 203

entre convergences et dissonances

ill. 5.37 Lyon, bm, ms. 828, fol. 42

7

109

ill. 5.38 Florence, fol. 111v

Une dissonance centrale: l’absence des défaites

Si la plupart des innovations du maître n’ont, in fine, pas pour effet de résorber ou d’accroître la différence entre texte et image, il est un point pour lequel son œuvre a reproduit et entériné une divergence majeure entre le cycle de miniatures et le texte de la chronique, à savoir le refus de représenter iconographiquement les défaites. L’exemple le plus frappant de ce phénomène de dissonance est offert par la miniature du livre 24 du manuscrit de Florence, miniature qui se trouve à la fin du texte, en un lieu où le poids des cycles antérieurs est moins pressant. Ne reposant sur aucun modèle antérieur, on peut même supposer qu’elle lui est propre. Alors que le texte des livres 23 et 24 est entièrement occupé par les malheurs du royaume et narre longuement la bataille d’Hattin (1187), la chute de Jérusalem avec ses interminables tractations (1187) et l’échec de la Troisième croisade (1189–1192), ces événements ont été écartés par le miniaturiste au profit, au fol. 275, du couronnement de Baudouin v (1183) et, au fol. 292, du siège, victorieux, de Saint-Jean d’Acre (1191). Il en est de même au livre 25 où le peintre a laissé la Quatrième croisade (1202– 1204) de côté pour se contenter d’illustrer, au fol. 316, les noces de Marie et de Jean de Brienne (1205). L’image, ici, ne colle plus du tout au texte:

110

helou

ill. 5.39 Florence, fol. 275

ill. 5.40 Florence, fol. 292

ill. 5.41 Florence, fol. 316

L’absence flagrante des défaites, ces événements centraux qui occupent une si grande place dans l’œuvre des chroniqueurs, ne s’explique que par la réticence que partagent l’ensemble des artistes du xiiie siècle à représenter les défaites du camp chrétien.22 Tout ceci se comprend parfaitement: la peinture ayant pour fonction de mettre en exergue un épisode, elle a pour effet de le valoriser. Elle est donc constitutivement toujours plus ou moins un éloge et il faut comprendre qu’elle garde une valeur de célébration. Or, on ne peut pas ‘chanter les défaites’. On les passe donc sous silence.

8

Conclusion

L’œuvre du maître de Paris et d’Acre, dans ces trois manuscrits confectionnés à six ans d’intervalle, est constituée de tableaux variés qui entretiennent avec le texte de l’Estoire d’Outremer un rapport d’autonomie relative. Si les points de convergence sont nombreux, les tableaux orientent néanmoins la lecture vers une Histoire dynastique et se démarquent franchement de la chronique par leur refus de représenter les défaites. Ce cycle iconographique, essentiellement issu de la transformation de motifs hérités des cycles antérieurs, construit ainsi son propre récit, un récit ni vraiment fidèle ni vraiment indépendant du texte de la chronique, un récit qui se développe en parallèle et qui offre un miroir légèrement déformant à l’œuvre des chroniqueurs.

22

Caroff (2016).

entre convergences et dissonances

111

Bibliographie Manuscrits de l’Estoire d’Outremer enluminés par le maître de Paris et d’Acre Boulogne-sur-Mer Bibliothèque municipale, ms. 142

Florence Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Pluteus lxi.10

Paris Bibliothèque nationale de France, ms. fr. 9084

Autres manuscrits de l’Estoire d’Outremer copiés dans les États latins d’Orient Lyon Bibliothèque municipale, ms. 828

Paris Bibliothèque nationale de France, ms. fr. 2628; fr. 9085; fr. 9086

Rome Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Pal. Lat. 1963

Saint-Pétersbourg Rossijskaja Natsional’naja Biblioteka, fr. f° v. iv. 0005

L’Estoire d’Outremer, éditions (par ordre chronologique de parution) Guillelmi archiepiscopi tyriensis continuata belli sacri historia, gallico idiomate ab antiquo auctore ante annos cccc. conscripta. Ed. Ursin Durand et Edmond Martène. Dans Veterum scriptorum et monumentorum historicorum, dogmaticorum, moralium, amplissima collectio, t. v, 1729, colonnes 581–758. Guillaume de Tyr. Histoire des Faits et Gestes dans les régions d’outre-mer depuis le temps des successeurs de Mahomet jusqu’à l’an 1184 de Jésus-Christ. Traduit et édité par François Guizot. Collection des mémoires relatifs à l’Histoire de France. Paris: J.-L.J. Brière, 1824. Continuation de l’Histoire des Croisades de Guillaume de Tyr, par Bernard le Trésorier. Ed. François Guizot. Collection des mémoires relatifs à l’Histoire de France. Paris: J.-L.-J. Brière, 1824.

112

helou

Recueil des historiens des Croisades, Historiens occidentaux. Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, t. 1. Paris, 1844. [rhc]. Recueil des historiens des Croisades, Historiens occidentaux. Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, t. 2. Paris, 1859. Chronique d’Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier. Ed. Louis de Mas-Latrie. Société de l’Histoire de France. Paris: Jules Renouard, 1871. Guillaume de Tyr et ses continuateurs. Ed. Paulin Paris. Histoire générale des Croisades par les auteurs contemporains, t. 1 et 2. Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1879–1880. La Continuation de Guillaume de Tyr (1184–1197). Ed. Margaret Ruth Morgan. Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, ‘Documents relatifs à l’Histoire des Croisades’, n° xiv. Paris: Paul Guenther, 1982. Guillaume de Tyr. Chronique. Ed. Robert Burchard Constantijn Huygens. Turnhout: Brepols, 1986. A critical edition of the Estoires d’Outremer et de la naissance Salehadin. Ed. Margaret Jubb. Comittee for Medieval Studies, Queen Mary and Westfield College. University of London, 1990. ‘A New Text of the Annales de Terre Sainte.’ Ed. Peter Edbury. Dans In Laudem Hierosolymitani, Studies in Crusades and Medieval Culture in Honour of Benjamin Z. Kedar. Ed. Iris Shagrir, Ronnie Ellenblum et Jonathan Riley-Smith. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007. 145–161. Continuation d’Acre de l’Historia de Guillaume de Tyr. Ed. Anna Maria Di Fabrizio. Dans ‘Un essai de définition du français d’outremer: édition critique de la Continuation d’Acre de l’Historia de Guillaume de Tyr suivie d’une étude linguistique et historique.’ Thèse soutenue le 23 avril 2013 à l’École Pratique des Hautes Études. ‘Étude et édition de l’Estoire d’Outremer d’après le manuscrit Firenze, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Pluteus lxi.10, fol. 274-fol. 336.’ Thèse soutenue en Sorbonne le 8 décembre 2017.

L’Estoire d’Outremer, études Edbury, Peter William (1997). ‘The Lyon Eracles and the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre.’ Dans Montjoie. Studies in Crusade History in Honour of Hans Eberhard Mayer. Ed. Benjamin Zeev Kedar, Jonathan Riley-Smith et Rudolf Hiestand. Londonm: Variorum, 1997. 139–153. Edbury, Peter William (2007). ‘The French Translation of William of Tyre’s Historia: the Manuscript Tradition.’ Crusades 6: 69–105. Edbury, Peter William (2010). ‘New Perspectives on the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre.’ Crusades 9: 107–113. Folda, Jaroslav (1973). ‘Manuscripts of the History of Outremer by William of Tyre: a Handlist.’ Scriptorium 27: 90–95. Gaggero, Massimiliano (2012). ‘La Chronique d’Ernoul: problèmes et méthode d’édition.’ Perspective médiévales 34: https://doi.org/10.4000/peme.1608

entre convergences et dissonances

113

Gaggero, Massimiliano (2017). ‘L’édition d’un texte historique en évolution: la Chronique d’Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier.’ Dans Actes du xxviie Congrès international de linguistique et de philologie romanes (Nancy, 15–20 juillet 2013). Ed. Lino Leonardi, Fréderic Duval et Richard Traschler. Strasbourg: eliphi, éditions de linguistique et de philologie, 2017. 133–145. Handyside, Philip (2015). The Old French William of Tyre. The Medieval Mediterranean, vol. 103. Leiden/Boston: Brill.

Le maître de Paris et d’Acre et l’enluminure dans les États latins d’Orient Avril, François (1995). L’enluminure à l’époque gothique (1200–1420). Paris: Bibliothèque de l’Image. Buchthal, Hugo (1957). Miniature Painting in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem. Oxford: oup. Caroff, Fanny (2000). ‘Différencier, caractériser, avertir: les armoiries imaginaires attribuées au monde musulman.’ Médiévales 38: 137–147. Caroff, Fanny (2016). L’Ost des Sarrasins, Les Musulmans dans l’iconographie médiévale (France-Flandre xiiie-xve siècle). Paris: Le Léopard d’or. Edbury, Peter William, et Jaroslav Folda (1994). ‘Two Thirteenth-Century Manuscripts of Crusader Legal Texts from Saint-Jean d’Acre.’ Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 57: 243–254. Folda, Jaroslav (1976). Crusader Manuscript Illumination at Saint-Jean d’Acre, 1275–1291. Princeton: Princeton up. Folda, Jaroslav (1995). The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land, 1098–1187. Cambridge: cup. Folda, Jaroslav (1996). ‘The Hospitaller Master in Paris and Acre: Some Reconsiderations in Light of New Evidence.’ The Journal of the Walter Art Gallery 54: 51–59, et planches 269–271. Folda, Jaroslav (2004). ‘The Figural Arts in Crusader Syria and Palestine, 1187–1291: Some New Realities.’ Dumbarton Oaks Papers 58: 315–331. Folda, Jaroslav (2005). Crusader Art in the Holy Land, from the Third Crusade to the Fall of Acre, 1187–1291. Cambridge: cup. Folda, Jaroslav (2008). Crusader Art, The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land, 1099–1291. Aldershot (UK) / Burlington (USA): Lund Humphries. Pastoureau, Michel (1986). ‘Figures et couleurs péjoratives en héraldique médiévale.’ Dans Figures et couleurs, Étude sur la symbolique et la sensibilité médiévales. Paris: Le léopard d’or (1986). 193–207. Weitzmann, Kurt (1966). ‘Icon Painting in the Crusader Kingdom.’ Dumbarton Oaks Papers 20: 51–53, et planches 1–65.

6 The Structural Character of East Slavic Historiography in Comparative Perspective Jitka Komendová

Abstract The paper focuses on the problem of the structure of the earliest Rus’ letopises (annals) in comparison with the structure of historiographical works of Central Europe. The study traces the development of the scholarly debate on the genre of letopises and their possible analogies in other European literatures. While in the twentieth century the idea of the specificity of the genre of letopis dominated the discourse, in the post-Soviet period scholars have come to believe that a structural parallel to East Slavic historiography can be found in other medieval literatures, especially in Western European annals. From the structural point of view, the Czech historiography of the twelfth to thirteenth centuries is the closest form to Eastern European letopises. Particularly we can mention the so-called Continuation of Kosmas, which is also characterised by the division of the text according to absolute chronology, the weakened position of the authorial subject, and the openness of the text to additions and continuations. However, while this way of writing about history represented only one of possible forms of historiography in the Czech milieu, for the East Slavic literary culture it became a historiographical form that was consistently followed throughout the Middle Ages.

For many centuries, medieval scholars of Early Rus’ were recording the history of their country. They created texts called ‘letopises’. A very large corpus of surviving letopises testifies to the importance of historiographical work among the Eastern Slavs. As with any historiographical work, these texts can only be properly interpreted if we understand the role of the author, the reader, the genre and the function of the work in the society where the text originated and to which it was addressed. The principle of individual authorship of historiography did not apply in Rus’ throughout the Middle Ages. All the letopises were the result of the collective work of a number of authors and underwent numerous edits over the centuries. Therefore, the questions outlined above are far from easy to answer, and historical scholarship often rather awkwardly dodges them. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_007

the structural character of east slavic historiography

115

One of the many pending issues in historiography is the question whether the letopises of Early Rus’ can be understood as an independent genre, a completely unique manifestation of the written culture of East Slavic scholars, or whether this way of writing about history has analogues in the literary culture of other European countries. The aim of this study is to present the basic frameworks of the scholarly discussion on the specifics of the genre of letopises and their relationship to other genres of European medieval historiography. It attempts to compare the structural character of the Early Rus’ letopises with the medieval historiography of Central Europe. Russian studies have indeed lacked this perspective so far. Its relevance and validity will be argued in this study. Since the beginning of the scholarly research into the letopises of Early Rus’, researchers have understood them as the centre of the medieval Rus’ book culture. At the same time scholars have posed the question of the interconnection of these texts with the literature in other European countries. In the middle of the nineteenth century M.I. Sukhomlinov published a dissertation where he studied the connections of the earliest Rus’ historiographic texts with Scandinavian accounts, Latin historiography and Byzantine literature.1 However, this approach did not become the mainstream of the scholarly research into letopises. In the following century the emphasis on the internal genesis of letopises clearly prevailed, while practically no attempts were made to study them in a broader comparative perspective of European literatures. Soviet medieval studies placed great emphasis on the originality of the Rus’ letopises, which were valued as ‘the most extensive and developed monuments of secular character in old Russian literature, which was mainly religious’ or as ‘an artistic laboratory of old Russian literature’.2 According to scholars the genre strongly reflected the basic artistic tendencies of its time. The emphasis on originality and ‘nationality’3 in the Early Rus’ texts limited the possibilities of assessing the real place of East Slavic historiographic texts in the context of the medieval European historiography. While pre-revolutionary scholarship expressed an idea of a genetic link between Rus’ and Byzantine chronicling,4 scholars of the Soviet era believed

1 Sukhomlinov (1856). 2 Lurʹe (1972: 93). 3 Cf. the studies on the concept of nationality, which combines the social (folk) and national aspects; see Sazonova and Robinson (1997: 159–178). 4 The discussion of the direct connection between the annals of medieval Rus’ and Byzantine historiography from the beginning of the scholarly research of letopises to the middle of the twentieth century is studied in Likhachev (1947: 59–62).

116

komendová

that the letopises represented the only genre in Early Rus’ that did not exist in the genre system of Byzantine literature, from which Rus’ adopted all other genres of its literary culture.5 The earlier reasoning of A.A. Shakhmatov on the possible connection between the East Slavic annals and the early medieval Bulgarian historiography was also not acceptable. In fact, no such Bulgarian texts dated to the tenth century have survived. During the existence of the first Bulgarian state, the Bulgarians most likely did not create their own chronicles at all, since they drew their knowledge of history from Slavic translations of Byzantine historiography.6 Soviet medievalists also insisted on the difference between the genre of the East Slavic letopis and the annals of the Latin cultural area,7 which were evaluated as a much more concise and, from a historiographical point of view, a less developed form.8 According to Soviet scholars letopises acquired their typical form under the influence of ‘the needs of Russian life itself’, which also explains their ‘deeply national character’.9 This view of the letopises forms part of the complex picture of the East Slavic medieval culture developed throughout the Soviet era. It was based on the thesis that the Eastern Slavs profoundly transformed the inherited Byzantine cultural heritage and then created a unique written culture with a distinctly secular, patriotically oriented lineage. To achieve this image scholars overemphasized some works, while the ‘religious’ part of medieval culture, obviously derived from Byzantine patterns, was neglected.10 Ties with the Western European cultural area were considered marginal, which resulted in creating the impression of originality of the Early Rus’ literary culture.

5 6 7 8 9 10

Tvorogov (1966: 371). Tolochko (2011: 214). Likhachev (1947: 100). Lurʹe (1972: 76). Likhachev (1947: 62). This concept has remained very distinct for many decades, only with certain changes in its diction over time, from the academic History of Russian literature of the mid 1940s (Istoriia russkoi literatury v 10 t.) to the academic History of Russian literature, dated to 1980, where D.S. Likhachev speaks not only of ‘patriotism’ as a significant feature of old Russian literature, but even of its ‘grazhdanstvennost’, or ‘civic spirit’ (in the sense of self-identification of a citizen with the state); see Istoriia russkoi literatury v 4 t. (vol. 1, [1980]: 11–18). This perspective permeates through the entire scholarship of Dmitry S. Likhachev, Oleg V. Tvorogov and other Soviet medievalists, and in the extreme form in the works of Boris A. Rybakov. It is also very clear from the composition of the papers of the yearly periodical Trudy Otdela drevnerusskoi literatury (Proceedings of the Department of Old Russian Literature), published since 1932 by the Leningrad Department of Old Russian literature of the Institute of Russian literature of the Academy of Sciences.

the structural character of east slavic historiography

117

Only the last quarter of the twentieth century, after the disintegration of the Soviet scholarly paradigm, saw the publication of studies that seek to redefine the genre nature of East Slavic letopises and to make a deeper comparison of this genre with other European literatures. Contemporary scholars agree that letopises of Early Rus’ do not have a genre equivalent in Byzantine historiography, and therefore this type of historiography could not have been adopted directly from Byzantium.11 However, compared with medieval studies of the Soviet era the reasoning has fundamentally changed, since the whole problem of the genetic connection between Byzantine and Christianised East Slavic cultures has undergone a profound reinterpretation.12 From a purely structural point of view it is obvious that there are fundamental differences between the East Slavic letopises and those Byzantine chronicles that were available in Rus’ in the Middle Ages. The letopises segmented the text into individual years, while those Byzantine chronicles which were known and potentially could influence the East Slavic view of the historiographic work used a division according to the reign of the rulers. Byzantine chroniclers also did not work with the oral history in the sense of legendary narratives about ancient times (as opposed to the oral testimonies of contemporaries of recent events). Indeed, they could rely on written sources going back thousands of years in recounting their own history.13 Their task was quite different from the one faced by historians of recently Christianised states, who were the first to give an interpretation of the past and present of their young states with a newly created written culture.14 The passages from the oldest Rus’ texts, which are close to Byzantine chronicles, are understood by contemporary scholars not as evidence of a direct genetic link between Byzantine and East Slavic historiography, but primarily as a result of numerous interpolations of a legendary, moralistic, polemical or theological nature. It is thus the result of a gradual process of ‘Byzantinization’, during which new texts or fragments of texts written according to Byzantine patterns were incorporated in the oldest letopises, which had arisen outside the genre canons of Byzantine literature. However, as a result East Slavic chronicles did not approach the Byzantine genre model, but instead created a completely different historiographical structure, which was alien to both Byzantium and, for example, to Bul-

11 12 13 14

Ranchin (1999: 105–116), Gippius (2003: 25–43), Tolochko (2011: 209–211), Guimon (2012: 18). A fundamental role in this was played by the scholarship of V.M. Zhivov on the specifics of the reception of Byzantine culture in Russia; see Zhivov (2002: 73–115). Gippius (2003: 25). Ranchin (1999: 105–116).

118

komendová

garian medieval texts, which were much more oriented towards the Byzantine literary canons.15 This statement does not deny the fact of the fundamental, constitutive role of Eusebius’ conception of the interpretation of history for medieval European historiography. Scholars in Early Rus’, however, could draw inspiration from the Byzantine written tradition only in a very indirect and selective way. This was because they generally did not have the original works at their disposal, but relied almost exclusively on translated compilations. Since the mid-1990s there has been a revival of interest in the comparative study of Early Rus’ and Western European medieval literature.16 Along with this, after many decades the issue of analogies between the genre of Western European annals and the Early Rus’ letopises returned to scholarly discussions.17 This type of scholarship can be understood as a fundamental break with the Soviet school of medieval studies which artificially constructed the position of an exclusive ‘deeply national’ genre, finding no analogies in other European literatures. Alexei Gippius has come up with a reflection on whether the obvious analogies between Western European and Eastern Slavic medieval historiography can be regarded merely as a typological coincidence, or whether we can consider their genetic connection. Assessing the transfer of the genre of annals from the British Isles to Western Europe and from there subsequently to Central Europe, Gippius adds Kievan Rus’ as a theoretically possible additional link. The scholar, however, has left this topic only as an outlined hypothesis.18 Other researchers either do not address such a transfer at all, or consider such a hypothesis theoretically possible but too speculative and, therefore, best avoided.19 The language barrier that separated East Slavic historiography from both Byzantine and Latin traditions is considered too strong for Old Rus’ literature to immediately adopt any of the historiographical models of medieval Europe. Rather, one might assume that the similar situation of the cultures of the newly Christianised peoples, peripheral from the point of view of the Roman and Byzantine circle of civilization, encouraged similar views on history and historiography. Andrei Ranchin sees analogies in the early historiography of the newly baptized states of Europe, especially in the structuring of the text using a chrono-

15 16

17 18 19

Gippius (2003: 33–36). A detailed bibliography of comparative research into various genres of East Slavic and West European medieval literature is provided by Guimon (2012: 16–17). For the methodology of this type of research, see Kashtanov (2001: 158–168). Gippius (1997: 24–27). Gippius (2003: 34). Tolochko (2011: 212).

the structural character of east slavic historiography

119

logical axis. He points out that this is not a practice that would be inherent only in Early Rus’ and Anglo-Saxon annals, as A. Schlözer noted as early as in the eighteenth century, since it also consistently occurs in Czech historiographical works of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.20 Ranchin’s very brief insight into the work of historiographers with ‘empty years’ was the first isolated attempt to compare the methods of Czech historiography of the Přemyslid era with contemporary East Slavic chronicle writing. Timofey Guimon presented a multifaceted comparison of Early Rus’ letopises with early medieval English annals, and also tried to define the position of the genre of East Slavic letopises in relation to annals and chronicles.21 The discussion on this topic, which has been going on in medieval studies since the nineteenth century, is connected, among other things, with the question of translating the titles of the historiographical works of Early Rus’ into other languages. In many languages, the term ‘chronicle’ is used for East Slavic letopises,22 even when the nature of the text clearly corresponds to the traditional Western European annals.23 In contrast to these tendencies Timofey Guimon demonstrates that English annals and the oldest East Slavic historiography are the same type of historical work, and therefore the terms annals and (East Slavic) letopises can be used as full synonyms. According to Guimon, the two compared groups of texts have four common basic key elements: the system of records for individual years, the discretion of the text within the record for one year, the openness to reworking or additions, and the lack of expression of individual authorship.24 If we try to compare the East Slavic letopises with the genres of Western and Central Europe, the problem is not only in an adequate assessment of the method of the Early Rus’ chroniclers’ work. We are referring to the fact that the genre classification of European medieval historiography poses a no less complicated problem than the question of genre features of East Slavic letopises. The attempt to define the genre diversity of medieval historiography leads to two dead ends: either we will strive in vain to define individual genres as precisely as possible, with each refinement leading to more and more reser-

20 21 22 23 24

Ranchin (1999: 105–116). Guimon (2012; 2021). E.g. Nestorchronik, Primary Chronicle, Chronique des temps passés, Crónica de Néstor, Elmúlt idők krónikája, etc. E.g. Die Erste Nowgoroder Chronik, Novgorod First Chronicle, Première chronique de Novgorod, Crónica de Nóvgorod, etc. Guimon (2012: 84–85, 91).

120

komendová

vations, or genres will be defined so broadly that it will be possible to include completely different texts under one definition. A look at a number of generally controversial attempts to define the genre of individual forms of medieval historiography inevitably raises the question whether it was a fundamentally erroneous attempt to apply the definition of genre to texts produced in a culture that did not consider the categories of the genre system as we understand it today. A medieval author, creating a new text, worked with model texts, not abstract genres. However, the awareness of the impossibility of breaking out of the vicious circle of genre taxonomies should not lead to a complete resignation to define the structural specifics of medieval historical works. The formulation of general genre categories is less valuable than the comparison of specific texts in terms of the structural methods and the role of chronology in narration, the openness of the text to additions of different origin and different genre character or in the form of continuation, and above all the role of the authorial subject in the text. The Early Rus’ letopises are consistently framed according to the chronological line and, regardless of their scope, place of origin or commissioner, they fully respect the composition of the text according to the system of individual years. Although the breadth of information on individual years varies within individual texts, even a more developed interpretation does not lead to a rejection of the annalistc structure of the text. The Kievan Chronicle can serve as a model example, in which the distribution of information on individual years differs substantially in various parts of the text. Until 1146 the Chronicle is very laconic, then (especially for the years 1146–1154, when Iziaslav ii Mstislavich ruled in Kiev) the volume of information increases significantly. In the second half of the twelfth century austere annalistic references alternate with much more extensive records.25 However, this is only a quantitative change. From the point of view of structuring the interpretation, there is no fundamental difference between the concise diction of the first part of the Kievan Chronicle and the passages devoted to the reign of Iziaslav Mstislavich. Although the amount of information is expanded,

25

Márta Font attempted to quantify this phenomenon. She first quantified the volume of text for individual years, and then determined the ratio between the length of the recorded time period and the proportion of the total volume of the text. While the period 1118–1146 accounts for 34% of the total time recorded in the Kievan Chronicle, then in the volume of the text it accounts for only 8%. In contrast, the years 1148–1154, which is 8.5 % of the time in the chronicle, account for almost 28% of the total volume of the whole text (2019: 49–60).

the structural character of east slavic historiography

121

the method of historical work does not change, and the interpretation is still framed by a linear chronological manner. Compared to other texts the Kievan Chronicle brings a certain novelty in the fact that the structure according to individual years is surpassed by the principle of division according to the reign of individual princes. This approach does not contradict the traditional annalistic division, but at the same time gives the chronicler the opportunity to create more extensive, epically more developed narrative units than the records for individual years allow. On the other hand, the blocks of text assigned to the reign of one monarch do not form coherent, internally linked narrative units. Particular themes are very often linked to each other, not using the principle of causality or internal logic of narration but only via temporal connection, as evidenced by the recurring formula ‘in the same year’, ‘at the same time’. The emphasis placed by East Slavic historiography throughout its existence on an annalistic form of narrative distinguishes it significantly from the historiography of the nearby countries. From a structural point of view Hungarian historiography differs considerably from that of medieval Rus’. No annals have survived from the earliest period of Hungarian literature, while in other European countries they were the cornerstone of medieval historiography. The first surviving historical work, the anonymous Gesta Hungarorum (The Deeds of the Hungarians), is conceived as a narrative about the beginnings of the Hungarian nation, and therefore does not have an exact chronological axis. The basic principle of the text structure is represented by closed thematic blocks forming individual chapters. No means of textual cohesion are used between these chapters. The Gesta Hunnorum et Hungarorum by Simon of Kéza also developed an interpretation of history in the spirit of the origo gentis tradition, and from the structural point of view the text differs deeply from the East Slavic annals. In Polish historiography of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, unlike in Hungary, the annalistic tradition was quite strong, but the most important historiographic texts of this cultural milieu, the so-called Gesta principum Polonorum by Gallus Anonymus and the Chronica Polonorum by Wincenty Kadłubek, chose completely different forms of historical narration. Both of these works belong to distinct individual authors and were so specific that they excluded the principle of continuation or development of the tradition of similarly conceived historical texts. In contrast, Czech medieval historiography produced texts that are structurally close to East Slavic letopises of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Both East Slavic and Czech historiographies of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries clearly preferred a narrative dominated by the chronological line, formed by

122

komendová

absolute dating. The authors immediately continue the texts of their predecessors and, likewise, construct the interpretation of history according to the chronological line. In the Czech history, Cosmas of Prague began this tradition with his Chronica Boemorum. In his work he used Regino of Prüm’s Chronicon as reference, and took the axis of individual years as a basis for narration. This axis is so emphasised in the text that even blank years without any record are mentioned. In European historiography this method is mainly associated with annals. Therefore Cosmas differed significantly from other contemporary authors of integral works of European historiography, who preferred the form of a coherent text without segmenting the interpretation of events according to individual years. At the same time, however, the Chronica Boemorum differs markedly from the structures characteristic of the historiography of Early Rus’. Cosmas appears in the work as an individual creator who not only has the right to his own interpretation of the events, but also defines the composition of the text, its structuring and framing. We do not find similar internally coherent structural units in any of the East Slavic chronicles, since none of these texts was a closed unit of an individual author who had a similar role in relation to the text as Cosmas had in relation to his Chronica. Modern historiography often repeats the claims about the proximity of the Chronica Boemorum and Primary Chronicle, so that it has almost become a topos. However, the texts of the Czech provenance which are collectively referred to as the ‘Continuation of Cosmas’ by contemporary scholars, are much closer to the East Slavic medieval historiography. The text, structured according to years, allowed both a later addition and a continuation. In Czech historiographic practice of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries it happened repeatedly. Several continuators followed Cosmas’ interpretation, and his text itself was supplemented by the insertions of the Monk of Sázava. Outside the circle of the so-called continuators of Cosmas we also encounter this method. Abbot Jarloch of Milevsko intended to follow up on the historical work of Canon Vincentius by adding reports on those years that were missing in Vincentius’ work, and then continued with an account of the subsequent years. While the method of addition and continuation played a fundamental role in East Slavic historiography from the earliest times until the sixteenth century, in the Czech literary culture the principle of addition and continuation was only one of the options, and by far not the most frequent. If Czech chroniclers were not satisfied with the older interpretation for whatever reasons, they presented their own versions of the past, as, for example, did Dalimil at the

the structural character of east slavic historiography

123

beginning of the fourteenth century, whose chronicle fundamentally reinterpreted the Cosmas’ view on Czech history. The individual texts from the circle of the ‘Continuators of Cosmas’ and medieval East Slavic letopises differ significantly in their scope, the volume of the described historical events, literary qualities as well as in the nature of the historical work. With the exception of a few purely annalistic texts, all these works combine features of several genres—annals, chronicles, biographies or gesta. They drew extensively from hagiography.26 These texts are relatable to one another thanks to the consistent annalistic structuring of interpretation and at the same time the recurring need to find ways for the narration that is incompatible with the consistent structuring of the text by individual years. Another common element is the enrichment of historical narratives with independent literary works as well as the inclusion of acts and documents in extenso or in the form of paraphrases. All the letopises of medieval Rus’, as well as the works of Czech historians of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, remained open to further continuation. Thus the Early Rus’ historiography has its obvious analogy in a certain part of Central European historiography. Therefore it cannot be argued that it was a completely specific structure, a literary genre that was formed only among the Eastern Slavs. However, this finding must not lead to a generalizing conclusion about the structural analogy of all historiography of Early Rus’ and historiography of Czech provenance. The range of texts that are structurally close to the East Slavic letopises represents only one of the forms of historiography of medieval Bohemia. Works such as the Cosmas’ Chronicle, the Zbraslav Chronicle (Chronicon Aulae Regiae) or the Chronicle of Dalimil (Staročeská kronika tak řečeného Dalimila) are texts conceived according to completely different principles, distant from the historiography of Early Rus’ both in terms of structure and, above all, in terms of the role of the authorial subject. Central European historiography did not develop a stable, centuries-long tradition of one single method of writing about history, one established model of a historical work. A distinctive role of the authorial subject in the text, an effort to formulate an individual author’s intention and the search for such forms of interpretation that would best correspond to this intention, are features characteristic of a number of Czech medieval historiographical works. In contrast, historians of medieval Rus’ remained faithful to one single tradition of writing about history, despite the clear differences in the quantity and quality of their texts. In the East Slavic milieu only one text emerged that broke away from

26

Bláhová (1988: 176).

124

komendová

the established structural principles, namely the Galician–Volhynian Chronicle. However, this attempt at a different method of writing about history was so unacceptable for the following generations that the editors soon placed the original text into the traditional structure of absolute dating, fatally damaging it. Thus it remained a unique experiment in East Slavic literature, which did not become the basis for a distinct historiographical tradition. The conclusion about the analogy between the structural character of the oldest East Slavic letopises and one of the lines of Czech medieval historiography is not meant to evoke the idea that this is some exclusive feature with no parallels in the historiographic tradition of other countries. Rather, it should serve as a starting point for further research, both for Russian studies and medieval studies in general. In fact, the comparative approach to the study of letopises is still considered a new direction in the research of this genre and is assessed with certain reservations.27 The cautious attitude towards the comparative study of letopises is to some extent relatable to the scepticism that accompanied the historical comparative studies in general a few decades ago. Over the years of discussions, however, comparative historical scholarship has refined its assumptions and methodological approaches. Moreover, under the influence of the linguistic and cultural turn comparative research has become more sensitive to the study of semantic systems, symbolic forms and discourses. In this transformed form comparative studies have asserted their right to exist in the world of the humanities, and their practices appear in an increasing number of studies.28 Medieval studies which primarily focus on the Latin cultural circle should abandon the determinative perspective of the Great Schism and include Early Rus’ in their thinking about medieval Europe to a much greater extent. Today, when various forms of transcultural scholarship are very popular, a number of works have been produced that compare different phenomena within the Christian (usually Latin and Byzantine, not East Slavic), Jewish and Islamic traditions. However, there is still a lack of studies that compare different aspects of life in Central Europe and Early Rus’. This is not a matter of artificial blurring of differences, identifying or denying the intrinsic diversity of the phenomena being compared. In addition to examining the general context, i.e. generalisation, the contrastive aspect, i.e. defining the differences between the phe-

27

28

See Voinova-Lebedeva: ‘After Guimon’s book, it can be argued that parallels with certain groups of medieval annals or chronicles are possible, although it is not always clear what we can get from them, and whether knowledge of Western annalistic practice can be transferred to Russian material’ (2019: 21). Siegrist (2003).

the structural character of east slavic historiography

125

nomena, is equally important. Both must be done in a balanced way and with respect for the sources and not on the basis of current social demand, as has too often been the case in the study of East Slavic letopises.29

Bibliography Primary Sources mph, ns—Monumenta Poloniae historica, Nova series Anonymi Bele Regis Notarii Gesta Hungarorum / Anonymus, notary of King Béla / The deeds of the Hungarians. Ed. and trans. Martyn Rady and László Veszprémy. Central European Medieval Texts 5. Budapest/New York: Central European up, 2010. Cosmae Pragensis Chronica Bohemorum / Cosmas of Prague. The Chronicle of the Czech. Ed. János Bak and Pavlina Rychterová; trans. Petra Mutlová and Martyn Rady. Central European Medieval Texts 10. Budapest/New York: Central European up, 2020. Cosmae Chronicon Boemorum cum continuatoribus. Fontes Rerum Bohemicarum, T. ii. Ed. Josef Emler. Praha, 1874. Galli Anonymi Cronicae et gesta ducum sive principum Polonorum. Ed. K. Maleczyński. mph ns, T. ii. Kraków: Polska Akademia Umiejętności, 1952. Chronicon Aulae regiae. In Fontes rerum Bohemicarum, T. iv. Ed. Josef Emler. Praha 1884. 1–337. Kievskaia letopis’. Ed. I.S. Iurʹeva. Moscow: Izdatel’skij Dom YaSK, 2017. Kronika halicko-wołyńska (kronika Romanowiczów) / Chronica Galiciano-Voliniana (Chronica Romanoviciana). Ed. D. Dąbrowski and A. Jusupović. mph ns, T. xvi. Kraków/Warszawa: Polska Akademia Umiejętności, 2017. Polnoe sobranie russkikh letopisei, T.I. Lavrent’evskaia letopis’. Ed. I.F. Karskoi. Leningrad: Izdatel’stvo Akademii Nauk sssr, 1926–1928. Mistrza Wincentego zwanego Kadłubkiem Kronika Polska. Еd. M. Plezia. mph ns, T. xi. Kraków: Polska Akademia Umiejętności, 1994. Roczniki polskie. Ed. A. Bielowski. mph, T. 2. Lwów 1872. Novgorodskaia pervaia letopis’ starshego i mladshego izvodov. Ed. A.N. Nasonov. Moscow/Leningrad: Izdatel’stvo Akademii Nauk, 1950. Simonis de Kéza Gesta Hungarorum / Simon of Kéza. The Deeds of the Hungarians. Ed. and trans. László Veszprémy and Frank Schaer. Central European Medieval Texts 1. Budapest/New York: Central European up 1999.

29

This study is a result of the research funded by the Czech Science Foundation as the project ga čr nr. 20–10163S ‘The Earliest Chronical Writing from Medieval Russia: Authorial Subject, Genre and Methods’.

126

komendová

Staročeská kronika tak řečeného Dalimila. Dl. 1–2. Ed. J. Daňhelka, K. Hádek, B. Havránek and N. Kvítková. Praha: Academia, 1988.

Secondary Literature Bagi, Dániel, Gábor Barabás, Márta Font and Endre Sashalmi, eds. (2019). Hungary and Hungarians in Central and East European Narrative Sources (10th–17th Centuries). Pécs: University of Pécs. Bláhová, Marie (1988). ‘Klasifikace předhusitských narativních pramenů české provenience.’ In Vebr (1988). 165–199. Dzhakson, T.N., ed. (2001). Norna u istochnika Sud’by. Sbornik statei v chest’ Eleny Aleksandrovny Mel’nikovoi. Moscow: Indrik. Font, Márta (2019), ‘Die Struktur der Kiever Chronik: Versuch einer quantitativen Analyse.’ In Bági et al. (2019). 49–60. Garipzanov, Ildar H., ed. (2011). Historical Narratives and Christian Identity on a European Periphery. Early History Writing in Northern, East-Central, and Eastern Europe (c.1070–1200). Turnhout: Brepols. Gippius, A.A. (1997). ‘Drevnerusskie letopisi v zerkale zapadnoevropeiskoi annalistiki.’ In Litavrin and Zaborovskii (1997). 24–27. Gippius, A.A. (2003). ‘U istokov drevnerusskoi istoricheskoi traditsii.’ In Robinson (2003). 25–43. Guimon Timofey V. (2012). Istoriopisanie rannesrednevekovoi Anglii i Drevnei Rusi. Moscow: Universitet Dmitria Pozharskogo. Guimon, Timofey V. (2021). Historical Writing of Early Rus (c.1000–c.1400) in a Comparative Perspective. East Central and Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages, 450–1450, vol. 71. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2021. Istoriia russkoi literatury v 10 t. (1941–1956). Moscow/Leningrad: Izdatel’stvo Akademii Nauk sssr. Kashtanov, S.M. (2001). ‘K teorii i praktike sravnitel’nogo istochnikovedenia.’ In Norna u istochnika Sud’by. Sbornik statei v chest’ Eleny Aleksandrovny Mel’nikovoi (2001). 158–168. Kersken, Norbert (1995). Geschichtsschreibung im Europa der „nationes“. Köln/Weimar/Wien: Böhlau Verlag. Likhachev, D.S. (1947). Russkie letopisi i ikh kul’turno-istoricheskoe znachenie. Moscow/ Leningrad: Izdatel’stvo Akademii Nauk sssr. Likhachev, D.S., and G.P. Makogonenko, eds. (1980). Istoriia russkoi literatury v 4 t. Vol. 1. Leningrad: Nauka. Litavrin, G.G., and L.V. Zaborovskii, eds. (1997). Slaviane i nemtsy. Srednie veka—rannee Novoe vremia. Moscow: Institut slavianovedenia i balkanistiki ran. Lur’e, Ya.S. (1972). K izucheniu letopisnogo zhanra. Trudy Otdela drevnerusskoi literatury, T. 27. Leningrad: Nauka. 76–93.

the structural character of east slavic historiography

127

Nikolaev, D., ed. (1997). Osvobozhdenie ot dogm. Istoriia russkoi literatury: sostoianie i puti izuchena, T. 1. Moscow: Nasledie. Ranchin, A.M. (1999). Stat’i o drevnerusskoi literature. Moscow: Dialog-mgu. Robinson, М.А., ed. (2003). Slavianskii al’manakh. Moscow: Indrik 2003. Sazonova, L., and M.A. Robinson (1997). ‘Izuchenie literatury russkogo srednevekov’ia i ideologizirovannaia metodologia.’ In Nikolaev (1997). 159–178. Siegrist, H. (2003). ‘Perspektiven der vergleichenden Geschichtswissenschaft. Gesellschaft, Kultur und Raum.’ In Vergleich und Transfer. Komparatistik in den Sozial-, Geschichts- und Kulturwissenschaften. Ed. Hartmut Kaelble and Jürgen Schriewer. Frankfurt: Campus (2003). 305–339. Sukhomlinov, M.I. (1856). O drevnei russkoi letopisi kak pamiatnike literaturnom. St. Petersburg, 1856. Tolochko, Oleksiy P. (2011). ‘Christian Chronology, Universal History, and the Origin of Chronicle Writing in Rus.’ In Garipzanov (2011). 205–227. Tvorogov, O.V. (1996). ‘Drevnerusskaia literatura.’ In Volkov et al. (1996). 363–377. Vebr, L., ed. (1988). 200 let pomocných věd historických na Filozofické fakultě Univerzity Karlovy v Praze. Praha: Univerzita Karlova. Voinova-Lebedeva, V. (2019). ‘Ugasshii mir drevnerusskikh letopisei: vzgliad segodnia.’ Rossiiskaia istoria 12: 3–27. Volkov, V.K., V.Ya. Petrukhin et al., eds. (1996). Ocherki istorii kul’tury slavian. Moscow: Indrik. Zhivov V.M. (2002). Razyskaniia v oblasti istorii i predystorii russkoi kul’tury. Moscow.

7 ‘The Malicious Barking of Critics’: A LiteraryHistorical Approach to the topos of Anticipated Criticism Justin Lake

Abstract A frequently encountered commonplace of medieval historical writing is the author’s anticipation of criticism. Because actual evidence for criticism of historians is rare before the twelfth century, these references are sometimes dismissed as rhetorical posturing with little application to reality. Three interrelated arguments are advanced here: 1) Although we are rarely, if ever, in a position to determine the existence or non-existence of the critics mentioned by medieval authors, the competitive nature of medieval intellectual and literary culture—in which scholarly reputations were tied to patronage and preferment—suggests that we should not dismiss these references as an empty topos. 2) The potential grounds for criticism envisioned by medieval authors changed over time in response to shifts in the practice of history writing, making references to criticism a potentially fruitful area of analysis for literary historians. 3) We should pay close attention to those aspects of historical writing that were not generally considered potential targets of criticism.

The practice of historians sniping at one another for their supposed deficiencies is as old as the writing of history itself. Thucydides implicitly criticized Herodotus in the introduction to his History of the Peloponnesian War;1 Ctesias and Plutarch later attacked him openly.2 The Hellenistic historians Anaximenes of Lampsacus and Theopompus criticized other historians in the pro-

1 History of the Peloponnesian War, i, 20–21. Thucydides abjures the ‘mythical’ element in his own work, a clear reference to Herodotus. Specific errors that he attributes to Herodotus (not by name) are that the Spartan kings each cast two votes and that there was a Spartan regiment drawn from the village of Pitane. See Herodotus, Histories, vi, 57 and ix, 53. 2 Ctesias, Persica, T8 in Lenfant (2004: 6–7); Bichler (2004); Plutarch, On the Malice of Herodotus.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_008

‘the malicious barking of critics’

129

logues to their now-lost histories,3 and Polybius devoted an entire book of his history to a blistering attack on Timaeus of Tauromenium, taking him to task for his rhetorical excesses, lack of practical experience and failure to conduct independent research by autopsy.4 Josephus castigated previous historians of the Jewish rebellion against Rome for having relied on ‘random and contradictory reports’ about a conflict that they did not themselves witness, and for having written in order to flatter the Romans and criticize the Jews.5 Herodian accused other authors of having neglected truth at the expense of style,6 and in the fourth century Eunapius of Sardis devoted almost his entire prologue to criticizing the obsession with chronology of Herennius Dexippus, whose Short History he continued.7 Given the competitive literary climate in which ancient authors worked, it is not surprising that in addition to calling attention to the defects of their rivals, historians might also try to anticipate potential critics in order to deflect or blunt the force of their attacks. This ‘topos of anticipated criticism’ seems to have appeared first in the works of Roman historians of the first century bc. Aulus Hirtius, who assumed the task of continuing Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic War, anticipated being accused of presumption for ‘intruding himself’, as he put it, ‘into the midst of Caesar’s writings’.8 In the prologue to the Bellum Catilinae Sallust noted that criticizing others opened one up to charges of malice and envy, while praising their accomplishments could prompt incredulity and disbelief.9 Dionysius of Halicarnassus felt called upon to defend his decision to write about the early (and comparatively inglorious) history of Rome against the censure of readers ‘fond of finding fault with everything’,10 and Jerome assumed that his translation and continuation of Eusebius’s Chronicle would meet with hostile readers, ‘who, from their customary joy in disparaging everything, will sink their teeth into this volume’.11 Jerome, of course, was embroiled in controversies throughout his life, and in his case there probably were hostile readers waiting to sink their teeth into his

3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities, i, 1. Histories, xii. In the general prologue Polybius also criticizes the historians Philinus and Fabius Pictor for their nationalistic bias. Jewish War, pref. Regnum post Marcum, prol. History after Dexippus, prol. Bellum Gallicum, viii, pref. All translations are my own unless otherwise mentioned. Bellum Catilinae, iii, 2. Roman Antiquities, pref. Chronicon, prol., in Helm (1956: 5): ‘Nec ignoro multos fore, qui solita libidine omnibus detrahendi huic volumini genuinum infigant.’

130

lake

Chronicle.12 When ancient historians wrote about the criticism that they expected to receive, it is because there existed both an educated reading public to scrutinize their work and a class of litterati who had real differences of opinion about historical methodology and who were competing with one another for recognition and fame. The topos of anticipated criticism, in other words, was a reflection of reality: to enter into the literary arena in Classical Antiquity was to invite criticism. The literary climate of the Medieval West was a very different place. The school system of classical antiquity, which prized rhetorical skill and knowledge of Latin grammar above all else, collapsed during the fifth and sixth centuries and by the ninth century Latin had largely ceased to be anyone’s vernacular. The early Middle Ages, as Erich Auerbach saw it, was ‘the period in which there is no literary public and no generally intelligible literary language’.13 At the same time throughout the western Middle Ages we continue to find large numbers of references to malicious critics in the prologues of medieval historians.14 The activities of these critics are often described using language borrowed from Jerome and Terence. Jerome’s scholarly career was marked by controversy and polemic: he was forced to defend his preference for the Hebrew text of the Old Testament from those who preferred the Septuagint, and he was involved in long-running disputes about the correct approach to Origen, whose orthodoxy had become suspect in the second half of the fourth century.15 He speaks of the criticism against him using metaphors of rending or mangling,16 barking or biting dogs,17 grunting pigs,18 stinging scorpions and hissing hydras.19 Terence used his prologues to defend himself against an array

12 13 14 15 16 17

18 19

Rebenich (2002); Kelly (1975); Cain (2009). Auerbach (1993, originally 1958: 23). See Simon (1958: 87–98). Rebenich (2002: 54–55); Chadwick (2001: 433–445). In Ezram, praef.: ‘Quid interpretem laniant?’; Ep. 48.3, in I. Hilberg (1996: 348): ‘ut alios, qui nos lacerant, hoc facere conpellas’. In Pentateuchum, praef.: ‘Periculosum opus certe, et obtrectatorum meorum latratibus patens’; In Ezechielem, x, 33: ‘Et Latini nostri, immo invidi Christiani, et ut apertius dicam, Grunnianae factionis haeredes, adversum nos latrant, cur juxta Hebraicum disseramus’; ep. 50, 1 in Hilberg (1996: 388): ‘et libros, quos contra Iovinianum scripsi, canino dente rodere, lacerare, convellere’; Praefatio in librum Paralipomenon: ‘et obtrectatoribus meis tantum respondeo, qui canino dente me rodunt, in publico detrahentes’; Contra Rufinum, ii, 27: ‘et obtrectatoribus meis tantum respondeo, qui canino dente me rodunt’. Quaestiones Hebraicae in libro Geneseos, pref.: ‘Non mirum ergo si contra me parvum homunculum immundae sues grunniant’. In Ezechielem, i: ‘Scorpiusque inter Enceladum et Porphyrionem Trinacriae humo premitur, et Hydra multorum capitum contra nos aliquando sibilare cessavit’ (the reference is

‘the malicious barking of critics’

131

of criticisms: combining elements from different plays (contaminatio),20 relying on assistance from friends,21 plagiarism ( furtum),22 and stylistic levity.23 Medieval authors drew freely on the language of both of these authorities, though in response to different sorts of criticisms. Most often they envisioned being criticized for presumption or stylistic inadequacy, or simply from pure spite and envy. On other occasions they cited more specific grounds for criticism. By the early Middle Ages expected criticism had become an established prefatory topos, and it is more common than not to find some reference to anticipated criticism in the prologues and dedicatory epistles of medieval historians. Evaluating these sorts of authorial statements poses a familiar interpretative challenge, and it is not surprising that we find divergent opinions about how to deal with them. Bernhard Schmeidler, who edited the histories of Helmold of Bosau and Adam of Bremen for the mgh, found references to critics and jealous rivals unconvincing, citing the fragmentation of Latin literary culture in the Middle Ages and the absence of any suitable medium for disseminating criticism of literary works.24 Helmut Beumann, by contrast, concluded that such references could not be dismissed as empty formulae, but had to be evaluated within the literary and cultural context in which they appeared.25 It is true that anxiety about being criticized far outpaces actual evidence of historical criticism, at least until the twelfth century. At the same time the conditions of intellectual life and literary production in the Latin Middle Ages and the relationship between conspicuous demonstrations of learning and preferment suggest that the fear of being attacked by detractors had a strong basis in reality, even if there was not a true literary public. Beumann called attention to Gunzo of Novara’s letter to the monks of Reichenau, which demonstrated both the existence of public criticism and the jealousy with which an academic reputation needed to be guarded.26 Gunzo had committed an error in spoken

20 21 22 23 24 25 26

to the death of Rufinus in 411); In Librum Josue, praef.: ‘Unde cesset arcuato vulnere contra nos insurgere scorpius, et sanctum opus venenata carpere lingua’; In Joelem, prol.: ‘Insurgat licet scorpio, et arcuato vulnere ferire conetur’. The Woman of Andros, lines 14–21; The Self-Tormentor, lines 16–21. The Brothers, lines 15–21; The Self-Tormentor, lines 22–24. The Brothers, lines 1–14, The Eunuch, lines 20–41. Phormio, lines 4–5. Schmeidler (1916). For criticism of his conclusions see Simon (1958: 93–94 n. 40). Beumann (1959). See also Beumann (1951). Epistola ad Augienses. See also Beumann’s broadly applicable observation on the older Vita Mathildae at Beumann (1948: 25): ‘Wir müssen fragen, ob die Vorlage nur die Formeln lieh für das, was der Verfasser sagen wollte, oder ob sie den Gedanken und die Sache selbst modifiziert hat.’

132

lake

Latin (using the accusative case, when the ablative would have been correct) while staying at the monastery of Saint-Gall en route from Italy to Germany in 965 as part of the retinue of Otto i, and in response a young monk composed some impromptu verses deriding Gunzo and saying he deserved to be whipped.27 When he arrived in Germany, Gunzo sent a letter to the neighboring monks of Reichenau attacking the presumption of his critic and parading his learning. Other examples similarly point to the development of a combative academic culture by the second half of the tenth century. In his Life of St. Wolfgang Otloh of Saint-Emmeram (d. c.1072) reports on how the jealous schoolmaster Stephen of Novara banned Wolfgang (the future bishop of Regensburg) from his classroom at Wurzburg after the latter showed up his teacher by answering a question about Martianus Capella to some of his confused fellow students.28 Richer of Saint-Remi (d. after 998) describes the careerist jealousy of the Saxon schoolmaster Otric of Magdeburg, who sent a spy to infiltrate Gerbert of Aurillac’s school at Rheims because he had heard rumors that the latter employed an unorthodox taxonomy of knowledge (divisio philosophiae), and subsequently denounced him to Otto ii.29 In nearby Normandy Dudo of Saint-Quentin (d. c.1020) envisioned that his work would be mocked for its stylistic shortcomings and jeered in the schools,30 and Warner of Rouen penned a savage attack on the Irish poet Moriuht in which he defamed him for his ignorance of grammar and personal loathsomeness.31 By the twelfth century attacking academic rivals had become commonplace. The first masters of the ars dictaminis established their credibility in part by denouncing other teachers.32 Albert of Samaria criticized Alberic of Monte Cassino for the impenetrability of his compositions,33 Henry Francigena warned students against studying the ‘trifles and mutterings’ of other authors,34 and Hugh of 27 28 29 30

31 32 33

34

Epistola ad Augienses, c. 3, 23. Vita sancti Wolfkangi, c. 5, 528. Historiae, iii, 55–56, 198–205. De moribus et actis primorum Normanniae ducum, Allocutio ad librum, 120: ‘Aegre fert animus quod vulgo ducere gestis quae digesta stylo nequicquam schemata nostro et subsanneris tumido vafroque tumultu … Ridculum vereor nobis sat surgere sannam.’ Translation in Christiansen (1998: 7). Dudo’s allocutio borrows heavily from the allocutio ad librum that precedes Heiric of Auxerre’s metrical life of Saint Germanus, though these lines are original. McDonough (1995). Useful overviews are Patt (1978) and Witt (2011: 53–79). Praecepta dictaminum, v, 51: ‘Spernat aspera et spinosa dictamina Alberici monachi insolubilia, nisi Sphingi monstro familiaria, quae auctores componunt’. For other criticism of Alberic, see Schmale (1961: 10). Kantorowicz (1943: 56). See also Odebrecht (1936).

‘the malicious barking of critics’

133

Bologna denounced two of his rivals by name for their ‘temerity and the novelty of their disorderly teaching.’35 Peter Abelard first made a name for himself by attacking the teachings of William of Champeaux and later Anselm of Laon.36 Even if what had once been a true literary public had contracted in the Middle Ages into a small elite of literate monks and churchmen, there is no reason to think that anxiety about envy, backbiting and calumny was any less keenly felt among authors. All the chief venues of literary production— cloister, cathedral chapter, school and court—were characterized by jealousy and infighting. The monastery was a claustrophobic environment, and those with learning (or pretensions to it) were potential targets of envious rivals. Raoul Glaber (c.980–c.1046), for example, tells of how a monk newly arrived at Saint-Germain of Auxerre ‘infected the abbot and some of the monks with the venom of his envy’ and caused them to destroy the painstaking work he had done to restore the inscriptions on the church’s altars.37 Guibert of Nogent (c.1060–1125) relates that when the monks of Saint-Germer de Fly observed that he had surpassed them in learning, they railed against him with jealousy and tried to interrupt his studies.38 Jocelin of Brakelond (d. after 1202) describes how certain uneducated monks of Bury St. Edmunds maligned the pretensions of the learned.39 Gervase of Canterbury (d. c.1210) reports that when the injured and bedridden architect William of Sens appointed a young monk to help direct the rebuilding of Christ Church cathedral, his brethren greeted the news with envy and malice.40 Courts were famously hives of malicious gossip and backstabbing. In his prologue to Einhard’s Life of Charlemagne Walahfrid Strabo (d. 849) noted that a reputation for brilliance had brought ill will and misfortune to many people.41 Walter Map (d. c.1210) compared the Angevin court to hell, and many of his contemporaries made similar judgments.42 Gerald of Wales (d. c.1220) wrote an entire volume of Invectiones to get back at those whom (like Archbishop Hubert Walter) he perceived to have thwarted his career progress.43

35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42

43

Rationes dictandi, in Rockinger (1863: 53–54). Historia Calamitatum, cc. 3–6. Historiae, v, 8, 226. Monodiae, i, 16, 60. Cronica, c. 92, 327. Tractatus de combustione et reparatione Cantuariensis ecclesiae, 20. Vita Karoli Magni, Walahfridi Prologus, in Holder-Egger (1911: xxix). De nugis curialium, i, 1, 2–9. See, e.g., John of Salisbury, Policraticus, v, 10. William of Malmesbury likened the court of William Rufus to a brothel (Gesta Regum Anglorum, iv, 314). For a broader view, see Uhlig (1973). In Brewer (1863: 3–96) and (1861: 125–196).

134

lake

One thing that remained from antiquity was the connection between learning, reputation and preferment; intellectual prestige, and the patronage that it conferred, was a zero-sum game. In the prologue to his history of Roger i of Sicily and Robert Guiscard, Geoffrey Malaterra describes this phenomenon: Sunt enim quidam, qui, cum alicuius scientiae gradus utcumque attigerint et exinde humanae laudis favorem adepti fuerint, tumenti supercilio tanta invidia superfluunt, ut neminem sibi litteris aequipollentem ex proximo habere velint. Sin autem eos habere contigerit, opus alienum, detrahendo mordaci dente, appetere non desistunt, alterius laude suam minui timentes. De rebus gestis Rogerii Calabriae, pref., 4

There are some people who, when they have attained some degree of any sort of knowledge and have obtained the reward of human praise as a result, swell up with arrogance and become filled with such envy that they are unwilling to have anyone else equally skilled in letters in their vicinity. If, on the other hand, they chance to get their hands on another’s work, they ceaselessly attack and disparage it with a biting tooth, fearing that their own reputation will be diminished if someone else is praised. There were only so many offices to bestowed, and both open criticism and hidden backbiting could be fatal to a career. We might, then, view the common references to envy, calumny and malicious barking found in medieval historical prologues not as the deployment of an empty formula, but as evidence of the fraught atmosphere of literary production in the Middle Ages. There is also evidence to suggest that the hostility of rivals could have consequences beyond damaging an author’s reputation, since not merely criticism, but potential danger, threatened some authors.44 At the end of a now-deleted passage in which he explains the circumstances that led to him being deposed from his abbacy, Regino of Prüm (d. 915) mentions ‘the scurrilous complaint of those who envy and oppose me’ (‘invidentium et adversantium calumniosam querelam’).45 We know that these were actual enemies, and that they were dangerous and powerful enough that he thought it prudent to remove his original complaint about them.46 A note added between the A and B versions of the Polipticum or ‘Plumb-Line’ of Atto of Vercelli (d. 961) explains that the 44 45 46

For the consequences of writing the truth, see Kersken (2004). Chronicon, s.a. 892, 139. See MacLean (2009 and 2009a).

‘the malicious barking of critics’

135

author employed a deliberately obfuscatory scrambled word order, or scinderatio, in case the book should fall into the hands of his adversaries while it was still unfinished.47 Gerald of Wales’s historical works were mined for potentially offensive references to powerful men by his own nephew during a dispute between the two men over the revenues of the archdeaconry of Brecon.48 There is also occasional evidence of historians altering their work in response to criticism. Helgaud of Fleury (d. 1048), for example, added a new passage to his hagiographical biography of Robert the Pious in response to criticism that he had ignored Robert’s divorce of Suzanna and irregular marriage to Bertha, the widow of Count Odo i of Blois-Chartres.49 In it Helgaud justified the king’s conduct, comparing Robert to David and Bertha to Bathsheba, and praising both kings for repenting and recognizing their faults. It is true that in most cases we are not in a position to determine with any confidence whether the critics referred to by medieval historians were real or imagined. But even if the Wirklichkeitsbezug (to use Beumann’s terminology) of any particular reference to critics is difficult to assess, we are justified in assuming that these invocations must have had some basis in reality in order for the rhetorical gesture to be worth making. Beumann described the medieval historical prologue as a mosaic whose individual pieces were borrowed but whose arrangement was meaningful.50 Lars Boje Mortensen has similarly referred to the ‘exquisite game of exordial topoi’.51 Hence the rhetorical strategies behind the invocation of potential critics are a potentially fruitful field of study. Since the publication of Ernst Robert Curtius’s seminal Europäische Literatur und Lateinisches Mittelalter in 1948 it has been recognized that literary topoi changed over time in response to shifting intellectual and cultural circumstances, and the topos of anticipated criticism is no exception.52 In seeking to extract meaning from this topos, therefore, it is useful to view it as a phenomenon that is at least in part historically conditioned. That is, while

47

48 49 50 51 52

Vignodelli (2016). See also that author’s new edition and translation of the text in Vignodelli (2019). The note is found in ms Vat Lat. 4322, fol. 48v: ‘uel aliquantulum metuens, ne in aem⟨ulorum ma⟩nus imperfectum opusculum adhuc interim hoc deueniret, aliquantulum cumque obducere curauit eloquium’. Vignodelli proposes, surely correctly, that Atto’s use of hyperbaton was intended to elevate the style of his work rather than disguise its content, but it is noteworthy that the anonymous commentator believed that political considerations prompted him to adopt a cryptic style. Speculum Duorum, in Lefèvre and Huygens (1974: 144); Bartlett (2006: 57–59). Epitoma vitae regis Rotberti pii, c. 17, 92. Beumann (1959: 501). Mortensen (2015: 30). Curtius (1953).

136

lake

certain sources of anxiety—stylistic inadequacy, accusations of presumption, malice and jealousy—remained constant over time, others came into existence or achieved prominence as the result of specific cultural conditions. In the general preface to the Histories of Gregory of Tours (d. 594), for example, the author presents a portrait of Gaul in which the liberal arts are in a state of terminal decline, noting that there is ‘no grammarian skilled in the art of dialectic’ to record the noteworthy events of his own day.53 Despite his own inadequacies, Gregory says that he is taking it upon himself to record these events so that they may come to the attention of posterity. In the preface to book 1 he further apologizes for any transgressions against the rules of grammar, ‘a subject’, he says, ‘in which I have not been fully instructed’.54 This is not the only place where Gregory calls attention to the supposed inadequacy of his grammatical abilities. In the preface to his Glory of the Confessors he imagines being criticized for confusing the gender of nouns and mixing up the ablative and accusative cases after prepositions.55 It is not entirely clear how we should understand Gregory’s anxieties about the correctness of his speech; much in particular depends on how much authority we grant to Bruno Krusch’s editions (which privileged manuscripts with deviations from classical Latin grammar and morphology) and how high we judge his level of competence as a prose writer to be.56 Indeed, the apologies for deficient style may be a red herring or a smokescreen, since Gregory’s enemies may have had other, more damning reasons to criticize him.57 The fact that they were seen to be possible avenues of criticism at that time and place is nonetheless important. Gregory is not admitting merely to stylistic inadequacy—one of the most enduring of all prefatory topoi—but to grammatical incompetence. Even Sulpicius Severus’ highly disingenuous apology for solecisms in his lapidary Life of St. Martin does not approach the level of Gregory’s anxiety, since Sulpicius could hardly speak of a decline in general education, nor does he envision being addressed as a rusticus and idiota who makes basic grammatical errors.58 The kind of anticipated criticism we find in Gregory is the product of a specific time and place, when the disappearance of secular schools and a general decline in liberal education was obvious, with the concomitant widespread loss

53 54 55 56 57 58

Decem libri historiarum, pref., 1. Decem libri historiarum, i, pref., 3. Liber in gloria confessorum, pref., 297–298. Bourgain (2015); Orlandi (1996); Shanzer (2005). Wood (1993); Halsall (2007); Shanzer (2002/4). Vita Sancti Martini, pref., in Fontaine, vol. 1, 248–250.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

137

of control of standards of Classical Latinity. There is an interesting comparison to Gregory in the prologue to the Chronicle of Fredegar, written c.660, during a period when command of Latin orthography and grammar had become even shakier. The Fredegar chronicler (here I will assume that the prologue, at least, is the work of a single author) disparages his own stylistic competence, and like Gregory notes that ‘no one in this era can presume to be equal to the orators who preceded us’.59 Equally interesting are the opaque opening lines of the prologue where Fredegar confusingly paraphrases Jerome’s comments from his Chronicle on the difficulty of translation to make the point that he has chosen not to use his own native speech (vernaculum), but rather to excerpt directly the works of other authors.60 In both Gregory and Fredegar there is a similar anxiety about the gap between the author’s own language and the correct standard of written Latinity, an anxiety that goes beyond the mere depreciation of the author’s rustic style. This is a historically contingent use of the topos of anticipated criticism, one that only made sense within the specific conditions of the late-sixth and seventh centuries. Future historians would allude constantly to their stylistic shortcomings as possible grounds for criticism, but this was not because the study of grammar had disappeared. To the contrary, in the early twelfth century Guibert of Nogent (d. 1124) remarked that ‘we see the study of grammar everywhere ablaze, and we know that everyone of even the lowliest status has access to this discipline on account of the great number of schools’.61 For a similar example of the way in which the grounds for criticism envisioned by historians could change over time we can look at two features of the prologue to the Polychronicon of Ranulf Higden (d. 1364), a universal chronicle in seven books from Creation to the year 1357 that was one of the most widely disseminated histories of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. In the prologue Higden likens his labors as an historian to Ruth’s gleaning in the fields of Boaz: just as the biblical heroine was given license to gather what had been left behind by the reapers, Higden says that he will enter into the fields of the ancients and gather what has been left to him.62 The vast majority of the Polychronicon consists of extracts from the works of other authors; in some cases, Higden tells us, he has excerpted them verbatim, in others he has rewritten them in his own words. Two aspects of Higden’s prologue deserve particular attention. In the first place, in a long passage in which he reflects upon the 59 60 61 62

Chronicon, prol., 123. Chronicon, prol., 123. On this passage, see Herman (2006); Lake (2015). Dei gesta per Francos, praef., 80. Polychronicon, prol., in Babington, vol. 1, 10.

138

lake

circumstances that discouraged him from undertaking the task to which he eventually committed himself, Higden imagines running up against ‘the satiety of modern readers, who’, he says, ‘tend to have little regard for the obedience of devotion and quickly grow tired of trifling fare such as this, so that like jealous rivals they sharpen their tongues and arch their brows against derivative works that cover no new ground’.63 Higden’s perceived need to present something new and un-hackneyed to a modern readership is precisely the opposite of the fear commonly expressed in histories of an earlier period, namely that audiences were unwilling to tolerate anything new. In the much-scrutinized prologue to the Vita Karoli Magni Einhard speaks of trying not to offend ‘those who despise anything new’.64 In the prologue to his Antapodosis Liudprand of Cremona (d. c.972) complains to Recemund of Elvira about the malice of critics who point to the impossibility of reading everything that has already been written and quotes Terence to the effect that ‘There is nothing to be said that has not already been said.’65 Adalbold of Utrecht (d. 1026) notes in his biography of Henry ii of Germany that ‘antiquity is venerated with admiration and novelty rejected with scorn’,66 and in his De diversitate temporum Alpert of Metz (d. after 1024) imagines a jealous rival attacking him for superfluously writing about something new when there are already enough books for the studious to read.67 What are we to make of these fictional critics who venerated the past to the point that they refused to read anything new? Helmut Beumann believed that Einhard was referring to a real class of people and that this and subsequent references to critics who despised all innovation and novelty reflected a real change in the intellectual condition of the Middle Ages.68 The Romans may have been suspicious of novelty—above all in the political arena, where res novae meant revolution— but the Middle Ages had elevated the authority of the past to the point that anything new really could be rejected with scorn. The medieval suspicion against innovation and its valorization of the past has been amply documented,69 and it would be superfluous to cover the same 63 64

65 66 67 68 69

Polychronicon, prol., in Babington, vol. 1, 8. Vita Karoli Magni, prol., 1: ‘operam inpendens, ut de his quae ad meam notitiam pervenire potuerunt nihil omitterem neque prolixitate narrandi nova quaeque fastidientium animos offenderem’. Antapodosis, prol., 5. Cf. Terence, The Eunuch, line 41. Vita Heinrici ii imperatoris, praef., 683: ‘Scimus insuper, et saepissime audivimus, quia in omnibus scriptis antiquitas delitiose veneratur, novitas fastidiose repudiatur.’ De Diversitate Temporum, prol., 701. Beumann (1951; 1959: 502). See in particular Spörl (1930).

‘the malicious barking of critics’

139

ground here. There are good reasons for thinking that Einhard was reacting to a tendency common among his contemporaries. For an example we need only look to the dedicatory epistle to Hrabanus Maurus’s De institutione clericorum, where the author notes that when possible he has preferred to follow in the footsteps of the Church Fathers by citing their words verbatim rather than setting forth his own words as if they were original to him.70 If the pervasive idealization of the past helped to explain the suspicion of novelty, then it remains to be answered why fear of being attacked for writing something new (among historians at least) became so much less prominent after the middle of the eleventh century. Even though a general cultural prejudice against novelty and innovation remained strong throughout the Middle Ages, suspicion of new writing inevitably lost force amidst the flood of new literary works and intellectual activity during the long twelfth century.71 In his reworking of the Gesta Francorum Guibert of Nogent noted that while it was a faulty habit ‘of some people’—‘not always but some of the time’—to criticize the deeds of the present and extol those of the past, there was still cause to write about the virtuous deeds of his own day.72 Adelard of Bath (d. c.1152) defended his own writing by noting that because the ancients had not said everything, the moderns were under no obligation to keep silent.73 In the preface to his Anticlaudianus Alan of Lille (d. 1202/3) expected the reader to be enticed by the novitas of his work.74 And while Walter Map (d. 1209/1210) could complain that ‘then as now old copper will be preferred to new gold’,75 his friend Gerald of Wales made precisely the opposite point, namely that ‘men recoil from disgust at what is trite and common’.76 These expressions of confidence in the value of the present-day took place against the background of an important change in the medieval culture of authority, as for the first time contemporary poets such as Alan of Lille and Walter of Châtillon began to be admitted into the ranks of canonical school authors.77 The topos that nothing new needed to be written seems to have been the product of a specific moment, called into existence during the ninth century and retaining force for a century and a half thereafter, but gradually losing force as a believable line of criticism during the long twelfth century. 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77

De institutione clericorum, prol., in Zempel, vol. 1, 110. See also Sanchez-Prieto (2016). Spörl (1930: 315–331); Gössmann (1974). Dei Gesta per Francos, i, 1, 85. De eodem et de diverso, letter to William of Syracuse, in Burnett et al. (1998: 2). Anticlaudianus, pref., 55. De nugis curialium, iv, 5, 312. Topographia Hibernica, Introitus in Recitationem, 6: ‘Frequentata et trita fastidium generant’. Ziolkowski (2009).

140

lake

After defending himself against the accusation of producing work that is purely derivative, Higden concludes the prologue to the Polychronicon with a second reference to potential critics: ‘Although I am using what does not belong to me’, he says, ‘nonetheless I am making it my own because I am frequently setting forth the thoughts of the ancients in my own words, such that I am using those authors whose names I have written at the beginning of the book as a shield against my enemies’.78 There follows a list of some forty authors and their works that Higden used as sources. The concern to enumerate sources precisely—rather than speak in general terms about authoritative books or credible witnesses—emerges most clearly in the twelfth century.79 It was hardly unknown for previous historians to discuss their sources— Bede, Freculph of Lisieux and Aimoin of Fleury all did this, for example—but they generally did so in a general and unsystematic way. We first encounter a detailed list of historians in the universal chronicle of Hugh of Saint-Victor (d. 1141), De tribus maximis circumstanciis gestorum, id est personis, locis, temporibus, written c.1130 for Hugh’s students at Paris, though it is not a guide to Hugh’s sources, but a seemingly random catalog of past historians, some of whom are simply names pulled from Josephus and Livy.80 Thereafter, these kinds of lists become more common.81 In some cases they are simple inventories of names like that provided by Hugh and in others lists of historians who have preceded the author’s work. The prologue to the Abbreviations of Chronicles by Ralph of Diceto (d. c.1200), for example, contains the names of 42 previous historians and extracts from the prologues of twelve of them.82 It is not surprising that this increasing tendency to cite sources by name and use them to bolster the author’s authority is a development of the twelfth century, a period when the authority of the written word had begun decisively to supplant that of oral testimony.83 This mirrors a broader shift (noted by Bernard Guenée) from history as a primarily rhetorical to a primarily scholarly activity.84 In the narrower context of Latin historiography, the twelfth century is

78

79 80

81 82 83 84

Polychronicon i, 1, in Babington, vol. 1, 18–20: ‘Et quamvis alienum sit quod assumo, meum tamen facio quod meis aliquando verbis antiquorum [saepe] sententias profero, adeo ut quos auctores in capite libri praescripsero, illis utar pro clypeo contra sugillantes.’ See Guenée (1983) and Guenée (1980: 114–120). Hugh’s chronicle has never been edited in its entirety. For the prologue and an enumeration of contents, see Green (1943). The list of historians can be found in Waitz (1858: 307–308). Guenée (1983: 139–143). Abbreviationes Chronicorum, prol., 20–33. See also Staunton (2017: 67–81). Clanchy (2013); Stock (1983). Guenée (1982).

‘the malicious barking of critics’

141

also when we first begin to find historians criticizing each other in earnest. The most famous case is William of Newburgh’s (d. c.1198) savaging of Geoffrey of Monmouth in the prologue to his History of English Affairs,85 but suspicions about Geoffrey’s pseudo-history were also raised by Gerald of Wales, Alfred of Beverly and (probably) Ailred of Rievaulx.86 In his Gesta Pontificum Anglorum William of Malmesbury (d. c.1142) was not afraid to call attention to Bede’s omissions87 and criticized Faricius of Arezzo’s life of Aldhelm for failing to use enough sources.88 Peter Abelard famously drew upon himself the anger of the monks of Saint-Denis for pointing out to them that Dionysius the Areopagite could not have been the patron of their abbey.89 Other cases could be cited.90 A precise enumeration of sources, therefore, could be used not simply to display the author’s erudition or to link him to a larger tradition of history-writing, but to bolster his authority and defend him against critics. In the prologue to Adam of Bremen’s Deeds of the Archbishops of Hamberg-Bremen, for example, the author writes that he expects to meet with detractors ‘who will claim that what I say is fictitious and false, like the dream of Scipio contrived by Cicero’.91 To forestall the ‘perversity of my rivals’, he continues, ‘I will reveal to you the meadows from which I have plucked the flowers of this garland, lest it be said that I have seized upon a lie with the appearance of truth’.92 There follows a rather vague enumeration of sources—‘scattered pages’, ‘histories’, ‘papal documents’ and older men who served as his informants.93 Although Adam gives only these general indications of his sources in the prologue, in the text of the history itself he is much more precise in identifying them. In the same vein,

85 86 87 88 89 90

91 92

93

William of Newburgh, Historia Rerum Anglicarum, Book 1, proem., 11–19. Aluredi Beverlacensis Annales, prol., 2: Ailred, Speculum Caritatis ii, 17. See also Putter (2011). Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, ii, 75, 252 (on Haedde of Winchester); iii.99, 326 and iii, 107, 362–364 (on Wilfrid of Ripon). Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, v, prol. 4, 498–500. Historia calamitatum, c. 47. For an interesting example of internal monastic criticism see Vanderputten (2005: 47–48). For a pre-twelfth century example of astute historical criticism, see the dedicatory epistle to Letaldus of Micy, Vita Sancti Juliani Cenomanensis. Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae pontificum, pref., 2–3: ‘Scio tamen aliquos … adversarios mihi non defuturos, qui dicant haec ficta et falsa veluti somnia Scipionis a Tullio meditata.’ Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae pontificum, pref., 3: ‘Et quoniam sic aemulorum cogit improbitas, fateor tibi, quibus ex pratis defloravi hoc sertum, ne dicar specie veri captasse mendacium.’ Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae, pref., 3: ‘Itaque de his, quae scribo, aliqua per scedulas dispersa collegi, multa vero mutuavi de hystoriis et privilegiis Romanorum.’

142

lake

by the twelfth century a reliance on oral traditions and a lack of authoritative written sources could invite suspicions of inaccuracy or fabrication. A particularly interesting case is the prologue to Lambert of Ardres’s History of the Counts of Guines, written in the first decade of the thirteenth century, most of which is devoted to a pre-emptive defense of his work from critics who might raise doubts about the accuracy of his information on the early history of the county of Guines, which was based principally on oral report (veterum fama) rather than written documents.94 A particular problem for Lambert was his claim that an otherwise unattested lord named Count Walbert of Ponthieu, Thérouanne and Saint-Pol had been the progenitor of the counts of Guines,95 and that a Dane named Siegfried—a direct lineal descendant of Walbert—had reclaimed the county of Guines by right of inheritance in the early tenth century.96 To support these highly dubious claims Arnulf had recourse to the desperate expedients of claiming that Walbert was mentioned in certain vetustissimis paginulis,97 and that his account was a ‘verisimilar truth’ (verum verisimile).98 What is new here is not the falsification of history but the need to cloak it in the mantle of authoritative written sources. In the case of Ranulf Higden his reference to his enumeration of sources as a shield against his enemies is all the more interesting because his Chronicle came under attack almost immediately by the anonymous author of another universal chronicle (this one produced at Malmesbury), the so-called Eulogy of Histories. The author of the Eulogy does not name Higden directly, referring to him instead as ‘a monk of Chester’, ‘a new chronicler’ and ‘a new compiler’,

94

95 96

97 98

Historia comitum Ghisnensium, prol., 557: ‘et lividis oblatrantium nobis dentibus emulorum nos dilacerandos prenosticamus, maxime cum nominatissimi Ghisnensis terre clerici huius operis materiam dudum intactam et illabatam reliquerunt, et cum veterum famam magis quam rem visam, nisi circa finem operis, disserere complectimur. Non enim tantum visa, sed quanta audivimus et recognovimus et patres nostri narraverunt nobis, commemorare intendimus’. Historia comitum Ghisnensium, c. 3, 564. Historia comitum Ghisnensium, prol., 447: ‘Opponent etiam quibus auctoribus freti quasi de dubiis temere diffinire et tante nobilitatis genealogiam tanto tempore prudentioribus, immo simplicioribus occultam et incognitam commemorare audeamus, cum Sifridus ducentis ferme trigina tribus annis, antequam huic operi scribendi calamum accommodaremus, apud Ghisnas comes extiterit, comes vero Walbertus ante Sifridum, sicuti iam prediximus, ducentis annis et amplius.’ Historia comitum Ghisnensium, c. 3, 564. Historia comitum Ghisnensium, c. 7, 566: ‘licet negligentibus et nobis emulantibus longa retro series videatur, veritatis autem genealogiam scripto recordantibus et verum verisimile adhuc in memoriam observantibus satis memorabile pro certo cognoscatur et teneatur’.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

143

but he criticizes him for rejecting the accepted tradition about Saint Patrick expelling the snakes from Ireland and for expressing skepticism about some of what William of Malmesbury had reported in his histories.99 Ironically, the author of the Eulogy ransacks the Polychronicon throughout his own work, most obviously in the prologue, where he cites the very same list of authorities that Higden had and in the same order.100 While the Polychronicon was almost entirely derivative, Higden clearly felt proud of the toil he had expended in assembling excerpts from other authors and the value his work would possess for future generations. By the thirteenth century compilation had come to be seen as a valuable activity in its own right, and historians began to justify the act of compiling the works of others.101 We find an early witness to this trend in the prologue to Gervase of Canterbury’s Gesta Regum Anglorum, a history of the English kings from their arrival of the legendary Brutus down to the time of King John derived mostly from Bede, Geoffrey of Monmouth, William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon. In his earlier Chronicle Gervase had defended his own unpretentious style by noting that certain authors of chronicles (cronici) inappropriately tried to ape the style of historians (historici) by ‘weigh[ing] down with bombastic verbiage what they ought to have set forth in writing concisely and in a humble style’.102 Now in the prologue to Gesta Regum he justified the need for his compilation by criticizing the stylistic pretensions of the authors who produced his sources: Rogo tamen lectorem, ne pauperculi Gervasii super hiis, vel aliis quae fecit operibus, contempnat simplicitatem, vel rugatis naribus dictaminis arguat levitatem, sed, si plura noverit, dummodo mihi non succenseat, emendandi gratia benigne tamen ponat in margine, quod mihi non occurrit ponendum in ordine. Verumptamen, si magna quaerit et ardua, egregios illos scriptores scrutetur et relegat, qui adeo magnifice sua insignia composuere volumina, ut lectores suos discendi avidos taedio afficiant, dum magis in exponendis verbis quam in historia intelligenda plerumque lectorem oporteat immorari. Ego autem mei similibus simpliciter scribo, ut compendiose legendo transcurrant quod ex necessitate vel propria voluntate scire desiderant. gervase of canterbury, Gesta regum, Prol., 4

99 100 101 102

Eulogium historiarum, iv, 161, in Haydon, vol. 2, 130–131. Eulogium historiarum, proem., in Haydon, vol. 1, 2–3. Guenée (1985). See also Minnis (1979); Minnis (2006); Hathaway (1989). Chronica, prol., 87–88.

144

lake

I entreat the reader not to scorn the simplicity of poor little Gervase in this work, or others that he has written, or to wrinkle his nostrils and reprove the levity of his style. Instead, if he knows more (and as insofar as it does not cause him to become irritated with me), then for the sake of correction let him add in the margin what it did not occur to me to put in its proper place. If, however, he is looking for great and lofty things, then let him peruse and read over those eminent writers who composed their distinguished volumes in such a grandiose style that they tire out readers who are eager to learn, since it is frequently necessary for the reader to spend more time construing the words than understanding the history itself. For my part, I am writing in a plain style for those like myself, so that by reading in a compendious fashion they can pass over quickly to what they want to know, either out of necessity or their own desire.103 The most likely target of Gervase’s attack here is William of Malmesbury, an author who was particularly concerned about the stylistic qualities of his historical works and whose fondness for obscure words and difficult formulations seems to have exasperated Gervase.104 This becomes clear later in the Gesta Regum when Gervase directs those readers interested in the early history of the Britons to the works of Geoffrey of Monmouth and William of Malmesbury; the latter’s purpose, he notes sourly, ‘would have met with my approval had not [his] long-winded words inspired disgust’.105 This attack on the literary pretensions of certain ‘eminent writers’ also serves as a justification of Gervase’s work as a compiler, since he undertook the laborious task of sifting through multiple prolix works of history in order to put the most important and relevant information at the fingertips of his readers. Gervase’s annoyance is surprising in part because it is so rare for a medieval Latin historian to call into question the value of stylistic elevation. This in turn reminds us that a useful way of extracting meaning from the often-formulaic statements of medieval historians is to pay close attention to those aspects

103

104 105

Ironically, Gervase’s request for readers to add corrections in the margin is borrowed from William of Malmesbury (Gesta regum Anglorum, ii, prol.), as in all probability is the phrase rugatis naribus (cf. Gesta regum Anglorum, ii, 134). Winterbottom (2003; 2017a; 2017b; 2019). Gesta regum, 23: ‘Qui vero Britonum gesta plenius scire desiderat, Gaufridum legat Monemutensem, gestaque regum Angliae quaesiturus Willelmum relegat Malmesbiriensem; cujus mihi placeret intentio si non essent ampullosa verba fastidio.’ Ironically, this passage is itself adapted from William, Gesta regum Anglorum, i, prol. 2, 14.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

145

of historical writing that were not normally envisioned as potential grounds for criticism. Here perhaps the most conspicuous absence is the potential for rhetorical amplification to falsify the events of history. Rare is the medieval historian who viewed eloquence as a potentially distorting force. Indeed, it was far more common for historians to express anxiety about failing to live up to the importance of their chosen theme. It is surprising how rarely the danger of embellishment is ever brought up. While castigating those who ‘intermingle falsehoods with true events out of a desire to flatter’, William of Tyre thought that failing to match the grandeur of his subject with appropriate diction and style was an equal or greater danger than deviating from the truth out of hatred and enmity.106 The importance accorded to literary form can be seen in the critical attitude adopted towards the anonymous account of the First Crusade known as the Gesta Francorum, which inspired three different rewritings in the decades after it began to be circulated in northern France. In explaining his decision to rewrite it, for example, Baldric of Bourgueil (d. 1130) depreciated the work as nimis rusticanus and noted that even though what the author said was true, the nobility of the theme was cheapened by the stylistic crudity of his work.107 Accordingly Baldric did not anticipate being criticized for the rhetorical amplifications he makes to his source text but did envision the possibility that more eloquent writers might find fault with him.108 Similarly Guibert of Nogent claimed that readers would be worn out by the ‘blandness of [its] tedious style’, whose lack of rhetorical polish would either cause them to laugh or put them to sleep.109 Even Fulcher of Chartres’ more elegant Crusade history was not above reproach; William of Malmesbury (borrowing a phrase from Cicero’s De legibus) criticized his Historia Hierosolymitana as lacking in rhetorical polish and noted that it would serve as a warning to other authors to write with more attention to detail.110

106 107

108

109

110

Willelmi Tyrensis Archiepiscopi Chronicon, prol., 97–101. Historia Hierosolomitana, prol. 4: ‘sed nescio quis compilator … libellum super hac re nimis rusticanum ediderat; ueritatem texuerat, sed propter inurbanitatem codicis, nobilis materies uiluerat.’ Historia Hierosolomitana, prol. 3: ‘Sane si melius facundiores id ipsum attentauerint, ipsorum nequaquam preiudico, si me castigauerint, facundiae: tantum precor ut nostro non derogent labori, causa inuidentie uel culpa insolentie.’ Dei Gesta per Francos, praef., 79–80: ‘Erat siquidem eadem Historia, sed verbis contexta plus equo simplicibus, et quae multotiens grammaticae naturas excederet lectoremque vapidi insipiditate sermonis sepius exanimare valeret … dum susceptae materiei seriem nudo procedere vestigio vident … aut dormitant aut rident.’ Gesta regum Anglorum, iv.374, 660: ‘stilo non quidem agresti, sed, ut dici solet, sine nitore ac palestra, et qui alios ammonere potuit ut accuratius scriberent’.

146

lake

While medieval historians might profess an inability to write in an elevated register, they rarely raised doubts about the desirability of doing so. There are rare exceptions. The anonymous author of the Encomium Emmae states that falsehoods are sometimes inserted into histories ornatus gratia,111 and the author of a fourteenth-century epitome of Saxo Grammaticus’s Gesta Danorum, notes that in Saxo’s work ‘many things are said more for the sake of ornamentation than in order to pursue historical truth’.112 Poetic form was also seen by some historians as inimical to the historian’s obligation to tell the truth.113 In general, though, medieval historians were remarkably unconcerned about the potentially distorting effects of rhetoric. Gerald of Wales, who was as sensitive as any medieval author to the possibility of opening himself up to criticism from his detractors and who had to defend himself against charges of introducing fictional elements into Book 2 of the Topographia Hibernica,114 included a paean to the power of eloquence in one of the prefaces to this work. Its force, he wrote, was such that ‘there was no topic so meager that it could not exalt it, none so complete that it could not add to it, none so obscure that it could not illuminate it, none so well known that it could not make it more renowned’.115 He goes on to quote with approval Cicero’s statement from the Paradoxa Stoicorum that ‘there was nothing so incredible that it could not be made plausible through speech’.116 Medieval authors were much enamored of the metaphor of Scylla and Charybdis. Though it was often used in reference to the twin dangers of flattery and enmity, it also accurately describes the situation of the modern reader of

111

112 113 114 115

116

Encomium Emmae reginae, prol., 4–5: ‘Hoc enim in historia proprium exigitur, ut nullo erroris diverticulo a recto veritatis tramite declinetur, quoniam, cum quis alicuius gesta scribens veritati falsa quaedam seu errando, siue ut sepe fit ornatus gratia, interserit, profecto unius tantum comperta admixtione mendatii auditor facta uelut infecta ducit. Unde historicis magnopere cauendum esse censeo, ne veritati quibusdam falso interpositis contraeundo nomen etiam perdat, quod uidetur habere ex offitio.’ On the text, see Tyler (2005); Orchard (2001); John (1980–1981); Lifshitz (1989). Cited in Friis-Jensen (2015), vol. 1, xlvi: ‘multa … dicuntur magis propter ornatum quam propter veritatem hystorie prosequendam’. See in particular the prologue to the Chronicle of Jean le Bel (c.1290–1370), where he attacks the author of a (now-lost) poem about Edward iii of England for being full of lies. Expugnatio Hibernica, Introitus in Recitationem, 209. Topographia Hibernica, Introitus in Recitationem, 6: ‘Haec est enim virtus, hic vigor eloquentiae, ut nihil tam exile quod non extollat, nihil tam plenum cui non adjiciat, nihil tam obscurum quod non illuminet, nihil tam clarum quod non illustret.’ Topographia Hibernica, Introitus in Recitationem, 6: ‘nihil tam incredibile, quod non dicendo probabile fiat; nihil tam horridum et tam incultum, quod non splendescat oratione, et tanquam excolatur’. Cf. Paradoxa Stoicorum c. 3.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

147

medieval prologues, who must try to extract meaning from a set of standard themes, not accepting them blindly or rejecting them wholesale, but being attuned to subtle variations and levels of emphasis, while also recognizing the ever-present danger of overreading. The topos of anticipated criticism presents just such a theme. The frequency with which medieval authors allude to envious critics does not in and of itself prove their existence, but external evidence about the conditions of literary production and intellectual life in the Middle Ages suggests that anxiety about criticism had a strong basis in reality. The danger was not so much literary rivals who could diminish an author in the eyes of the ‘reading public’, but institutional rivals whose criticism could interfere with patronage and promotion and thus potentially have consequences for an author’s reputation and career. Even a partial survey of the evidence suggests both that we take the reality of criticism seriously and that we pay particular attention to those moments when historians anticipated being criticized for specific elements of their historical methodology, since these can signal gradual changes in the culture of history writing in the Medieval West.117

Bibliography Primary Sources Adalbold of Utrecht. Vita Heinrici ii imperatoris. Ed. Georg Waitz. mgh ss 4. Hanover: Hahn, 1841. Adelard of Bath. Conversations with his Nephew: On the Same and the Different, Questions on Natural Science, and On Birds. Ed. and trans. Charles Burnett, with Italo Ronca, Pedro Mantas España and Baudouin van den Abeele. Cambridge Medieval Classics. Cambridge: cup, 1998. Adam of Bremen. Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae Pontificum. Ed. Bernhard Schmeidler. mgh SSrG 2. Hanover and Leipzig: Hahn, 1917. Ailred of Rievaulx. Speculum Caritatis. J.-P. Migne, pl 195, col. 501–620. Alan of Lille. Anticlaudianus. Ed. R. Bossuat. Anticlaudianus: texte critique avec une introduction et des tables. Paris: J. Vrin, 1955. Alberic of Monte Cassino. Praecepta dictaminum. Ed. Franz-Josef Schmale. mgh Quellen zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittelalters 500–1500, vol. 3. Weimar: Hermann Böhlaus Nachfolger, 1961.

117

I am grateful to the anonymous reviewers for improvements to the original draft of this article.

148

lake

[Alfred of Beverly]. Aluredi Beverlacensis Annales, sive historia de gestis regum Britanniae Libri ix. Ed. Thomas Hearne. Oxford: E Theatro Sheldoniano, 1716. Alpert of Metz. De Diversitate Temporum. Ed. G.H. Pertz. mgh ss 4. Hanover: Hahn, 1841. Atto of Vercelli. Polipticum quod appellatur Perpendiculum. Ed. Giacomo Vignodelli. Florence: Galluzzo, 2019. [Baldric of Bourgueil]. The Historia Ierosolomitana of Baldric of Bourgueil. Ed. Steven J. Biddlecombe. Woodbridge, UK: The Boydell Press, 2014. Cicero. Paradoxa Stoicorum. Ed. Otto Plasberg. Leipzig: Teubner, 1908. Ctesias, Persica (fragments). Ed. Dominique Lenfant. Ctésias de Cnide: La Perse; L’Inde; Autres fragments. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 2004. Dionysius of Halicarnassus. Roman Antiquities. 7 vols. Trans. Earnest Carey (on the basis of the version of Edward Spelman). Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 1937–1950. Dudo of Saint-Quentin. De moribus et actis primorum Normanniae ducum. Ed. Jules Lair. Caen: Le Blanc-Hardel, 1865. Translation in Eric Christiansen. Dudo of St Quentin: History of the Normans. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1998. Einhard. Vita Karoli Magni. Ed. O. Holder-Egger. mgh srg 25. Hanover and Leipzig: Hahn, 1911. Encomium Emmae reginae. Ed. and trans. Alistair Campbell. Cambridge: cup, 1998. Eulogium historiarum sive temporis: Chronicon ab orbe condito usque ad annum Domini mccclxci. 3 vols. Ed. Frank Scott Haydon. Rolls Series. London: Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, and Roberts, 1858–1863. Eunapius of Sardis, History after Dexippus. Ed. R.C. Blockley. In The Fragmentary Classicising Historians of the Later Roman Empire: Eunapius, Olympiodorus, Priscus, and Malchus. Vol. 2. Liverpool: Francis Cairns, 1983. [Fredegar]. Chronicarum quae dicuntur Fredegarii scholastici libri iv cum continuationibus. Ed. Bruno Krusch. mgh SSrM 2. Hanover: Hahn, 1888. Geoffrey Malaterra. De rebus gestis Rogerii Calabriae et Siciliae Comitis et Roberti Guiscardi Ducis fratris eius, epistola ad venerabilem patrem Cathanensem episcopum. Ed. Ernesto Pontieri. Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, vol. 5, part 1. Bologna: Nicola Zanichelli, 1927–1928. Gerald of Wales. Expugnatio Hibernica. Ed. James F. Dimock. Giraldi Cambrensis Opera. Vol. 5. Rolls Series. London: Longmans, Green, Reader, and Dyer, 1867. 207–411. Gerald of Wales. Invectiones i–iv. Ed. J.S. Brewer. Giraldi Cambrensis Opera. Vol. 3. Rolls Series. London: Longman, Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green, 1863. 3–96. Invectiones v–vi. Ed. J.S. Brewer. Giraldi Cambrensis Opera. Vol. 1. Rolls Series. London: Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1861. 125–196. Gerald of Wales. Speculum Duorum or A Mirror of Two Men. Ed. Yves Lefèvre and R.B.C. Huygens. Trans. Brian Dawson. Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1974.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

149

Gerald of Wales. Topographia Hibernica. Ed. James F. Dimock. Giraldi Cambrensis Opera. Vol. 5. Rolls Series. London: Longmans, Green, Reader, and Dyer, 1867. 3–204. Gervase of Canterbury. Chronica. Ed. William Stubbs. The Historical Works of Gervase of Canterbury. Vol. 1. Rolls Series. London: Longman and Co., 1879. 84–594. Gervase of Canterbury. Gesta Regum Anglorum. Ed. William Stubbs. The Historical Works of Gervase of Canterbury. Vol. 2. Rolls Series. London: Longman and Co., 1880. 3–105. Gervase of Canterbury. Tractatus de combustione et reparatione Cantuariensis ecclesiae. Ed. William Stubbs. The Historical Works of Gervase of Canterbury. Vol. 1. Rolls Series. London: Longman and Co., 1879. 3–29. Gregory of Tours. Decem libri historiarum. Ed. Bruno Krusch and Wilhelm Levison. mgh SSrM 1.1. Hanover: Hahn, 1951. Gregory of Tours. Liber in gloria confessorum. Ed. Bruno Krusch. mgh SSrM 1.2. Hanover: Hahn, 1885. Guibert of Nogent. Dei gesta per Francos. Ed. R.B.C. Huygens. cccm 127A. Turnhout: Brepols, 1996. Guibert of Nogent. Monodiae. Ed. Georges Bourgin. Guibert de Nogent: Histoire de sa vie (1053–1124). Paris: Alphonse Picard, 1907. Gunzo of Novara. Epistola ad Augienses. Ed. Karl Manitius. mgh Quellen zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittelalters, vol. 2. Weimar: Hermann Böhlaus, 1958. Helgaud of Fleury. Epitoma vitae regis Rotberti pii. Ed. Robert-Henri Bautier and Gillette Labory. Paris: Éditions du centre national de la recherche scientifique, 1965. Herodian. Regnum post Marcum. Ed. Carlo Lucarini. Munich: K.G. Saur, 2005. Herodotus. Histories. 2 vols. Ed. Haaim B. Rosén. Leipzig: Teubner, 1987–1997. Higden, Ranulf. Polychronicon. 9 vols. Ed. C. Babington. Rolls Series. London: Longman, Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green, 1865–1886. Hrabanus Maurus. De institutione clericorum. 2 vols. Ed. Detlev Zempel. Turnhout: Brepols, 2006. [Hugh of Bologna]. Hugonis bononiensis Rationes dictandi. Ed. Ludwig Rockinger. Briefsteller und Formelbücher des elften bis vierzehnten Jahrhunderts. 2 vols. Quellen und Erörterungen zur bayerischen und deutschen Geschichte 9. Munich: Georg Franz, 1863. Jean le Bel. Chronique. Ed. Jules Viard and Eugène Déprez. Paris: Librairie Renouard, 1904. Jerome. Chronicon. Ed. Rudolf Helm. Die Griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller der ersten Jahrhunderte. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1956. Jerome. Contra Rufinum. Ed. P. Lardet ccsl 79. Turnhout: Brepols, 1982. [Jerome]. Sancti Eusebii Hieronymi Epistulae, editio altera supplementis aucta. 3 vols. Ed. Isidorus Hilberg. 2nd edition. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996.

150

lake

Jerome. In Ezechielem. Ed. F. Glorie. ccsl 75. Turnhout: Brepols, 1964. Jerome. In Ezram. Ed. M. Adriaen. Commentarii in prophetas minores. ccsl 76A. Turnhout: Brepols, 1969. Jerome. In Ioelem. Ed. Marc Adriaen. Commentarii in prophetas minores. ccsl 76. Turnhout: Brepols, 1969. Jerome. Praefatio in Librum Josue. Ed. J.-P. Migne. pl 28, col. 461–464. Jerome. Praefatio in Librum Paralipomenon. Ed. J.-P. Migne. pl 29, col. 401–404. Jerome. Praefatio in Pentateuchum. Ed. J.-P. Migne. pl 28, col. 147–152. Jerome. Quaestiones Hebraicae in libro Geneseos. Ed. Paul de Lagarde. Leipzig: Teubner, 1868. Jocelin of Brakelond. Cronica. Ed. Thomas Arnold. Memorials of St. Edmund’s Abbey, vol. 1. Rolls Series. London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1890. John of Salisbury. Policraticus. Ed. Clemens Webb. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1909. Josephus. The Jewish War. 3 vols. Trans. H. St. J. Thackeray. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 1927. Julius Caesar. The Gallic War. Trans. H.J. Edwards. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 1919. Lambert of Ardres. Historia comitum Ghisnensium. Ed. Johannes Heller. mgh ss 24. Hanover: Hahn, 1879. Letaldus of Micy. Vita Sancti Juliani Cenomanensis antistitis primi. Ed. J.-P. Migne. pl. 137, col. 781–796. Liudprand of Cremona. Antapodosis. Ed. Paolo Chiesa. Liudprandi Cremonensis Opera. cccm 156. Turnhout: Brepols, 1998. Otloh of Saint-Emmeram. Vita sancti Wolfkangi. Ed. Georg Waitz. mgh ss 4. Hanover: Hahn, 1841. Peter Abelard. Historia calamitatum. Ed. David Luscombe. The Letter Collection of Peter Abelard and Heloise. Oxford Medieval Texts. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2013. Plutarch. On the Malice of Herodotus. Trans. Lionel Pearson and F.H. Sandbach. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 1965. Polybius. Histories. 6 vols. Trans. W.R. Paton. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 1922–1927. Ralph of Diceto. Abbreviationes Chronicorum. Ed. William Stubbs. Radulfi de Diceto Lundoniensis Opera Historica, vol. 1. Rolls Series. London: Longman and Co., 1876. Raoul Glaber. Historiae. Ed. John France. In Rodulfus Glaber: Opera. Ed. John France, Neithard Bulst and Paul Reynolds. Oxford Medieval Texts. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989. Regino of Prüm. Chronicon cum continuatione Treverensi. Ed. F. Kurze. mgh SrG. Hanover: Hahn, 1890. [Richer of Saint-Remi]. Richeri Historiarum libri iiii. Ed. Hartmut Hoffmann. mgh ss 38. Hanover: Hahn, 2000.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

151

Sallust, Bellum Catilinae. Ed. L.D. Reynolds. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991. Saxo Grammaticus. Gesta Danorum. 2 vols. Ed. Karsten Friis-Jensen. Trans. Peter Fisher. Oxford Medieval Texts. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2015. Sulpicius Severus. Vita Sancti Martini. 3 vols. Ed. Jacques Fontaine. Sources Chrétiennes. Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1967–1969. Terence. Phormio; The Mother-in-Law; The Brothers. Ed. and trans. John Barsby. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 2001. Terence. The Woman of Andros; The Self-Tormentor; The Eunuch. Ed. and trans. John Barsby. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard up, 2001. Thucydides. Historiae. 3 vols. Ed. I.B. Alberti. Rome: Typis Officinae Polygraphicae, 1972–2000. Walter Map. De nugis curialium. Ed. M.R. James, C.N.L. Brooke and R.A.B. Mynors. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983. Warner of Rouen, Moriuht. Ed. Christopher J. McDonough. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1995. William of Malmesbury. Gesta Pontificum Anglorum. 2 vols. Ed. Michael Winterbottom with R.M. Thomson. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2007. William of Malmesbury. Gesta Regum Anglorum. 2 vols. Ed. R.A.B. Mynors, completed by R.M. Thomson and M. Winterbottom. omt. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998–199. William of Newburgh. Historia Rerum Anglicarum. Ed. Richard Howlett. Chronicles of the Reigns of Stephen, Henry ii, and Richard i, vol. 1. Rolls Series. London: Longman and Co., 1884. William of Tyre. Chronicon. Ed. R.B.C. Huygens. cccm 6. Turnhout: Brepols, 1996.

Secondary Literature Auerbach, Erich (1993). Literary Language and its Public in Late Latin Antiquity and the Middle Ages. Trans. Ralph Manheim. Originally Literatursprache und Publikum in der lateinischen Spätantike und im Mittelalter (1958). Princeton, N.J.: Princeton up. Bartlett, Robert (2006). Gerald of Wales: A Voice of the Middle Ages. Stroud: Tempus. Beumann, Helmut (1948). ‘Die sakrale Legitimierung des Herrschers im Denken der ottonischen Zeit.’Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung für Rechtsgeschichte Germ. Abt. 66: 1–45. Beumann, Helmut (1959). ‘Der Schriftsteller und seine Kritiker im frühen Mittelalter.’ Studium Generale 12: 497–511. Beumann, Helmut (1951). ‘Topos und Gedankengefüge bei Einhard.’ Archiv für Kulturgeschichte 33: 337–350. Bichler, Reinhold (2004). ‘Ktesias “korrigiert” Herodot. Zur literarischen Einschätzung der Persica.’ In Heftner and Tomaschitz (2004). 105–116. Bourgain, Pascale (2015). ‘The Works of Gregory of Tours: Manuscripts, Language, and Style.’ In Murray (2015). 141–188.

152

lake

Cain, Andy (2009). The Letters of Jerome: Asceticism, Biblical Exegesis, and the Construction of Christian Authority in Late Antiquity. Oxford: oup. Chadwick, Henry (2001). The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great. Oxford: oup. Chazan, Mireille, and Gilbert Dahan, eds. (2006). La méthode critique au Moyen Âge: Etudes réunies. Turnhout: Brepols. Clanchy, M.T. (2013). From Memory to Written Record: England 1066–1307. 3rd edition. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell. Curtius, E.R. (1953). European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages. Trans. Willard R. Trask. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton up. Echard, Siân, ed. (2011). The Arthur of Medieval Latin Literature. Cardiff: University of Wales Press. Gössmann, Elisabeth (1974). ‘Antiqui und Moderni im 12. Jahrhundert.’ In Zimmerman (1974). 40–57. Green, W.M. (1943). ‘Hugh of St. Victor: De Tribus Maximis Circumstantiis Gestorum.’ Speculum 18: 484–493. Guenée, Bernard (1980). Histoire et culture historique dans l’Occident médiéval. Paris: Aubier Montaigne. Guenée, Bernard (1982). ‘L’histoire entre l’éloquence et la science: Quelques remarques sur le prologue de Guillaume de Malmesbury à ses Gesta regum Anglorum.’ Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres 126: 357–370. Guenée, Bernard (1983). ‘Les premiers pas de l’histoire de l’historiographie en occident au xii siècle.’ Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des Inscriptions et BellesLettres 127: 136–152. Guenée, Bernard (1985). ‘L’historien et la compilation au xiiie siècle.’ Journal des Savants 1–3: 119–135. Halsall, Guy (2007). ‘The Preface to Book v of Gregory of Tours’ Histories: Its Form, Context and Significance.’ The English Historical Review 122 (496): 297–317. Hathaway, Neil (1989). ‘Compilatio: From Plagiarism to Compiling.’ Viator 20: 19–44. Heftner, H., and K. Tomaschitz, eds. (2004). Ad fontes! Festschrift für Gerhard Dobesch zum fünfundsechzigsten Geburtstag am 15. September 2004. Vienna: Wiener Humanistischen Gesellschaft. Herman, József (2006). ‘La chronologie de la transition du latin aux langues romanes: un dossier revisité.’ In Latin vulgaire—latin tardif vii: actes du viième Colloque international sur le latin vulgaire et tardif, Séville, 2–6 september 2003. Ed. Carmen Arias Abellán. Seville: Universidad de Sevilla. John, Eric (1980–1981). ‘The Encomium Emmae Reginae: A Riddle and a Solution.’ Bulletin of the John Rylands Library 63: 58–94. Kantorowicz, Ernst H. (1943). ‘Anonymi Aurea gemma.’ Medievalia et humanistica 1: 41– 57.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

153

Kelly, J.N.D. (1975). Jerome: His Life, Writings, and Controversies. London: Duckworth. Kersken, Norbert (2004). ‘Dura enim est conditio historiographorum. … Reflexionen mittelalterlicher Chronisten zur Zeitgeschichtsschreibung.’ The Medieval Chronicle iii. Proceedings of the 3rd International Conference on the Medieval Chronicle. Doorn/Utrecht 12–17 July 2002. Ed. Erik Kooper. Amsterdam: Rodopi. 61–75 Lake, Justin (2015). ‘Rethinking Fredegar’s Prologue.’ The Journal of Medieval Latin 25: 1–27. Lenfant, Dominique, ed. (2004). See Ctesias, Persica (fragments). Lifshitz, Felice (1989). ‘The Encomium Emmae Reginae: a “Political Pamphlet” of the Eleventh Century?’ Haskins Society Journal 1: 39–50. MacLean, Simon (2009). Politics and History in Late Carolingian and Ottonian Europe: The ‘Chronicle’ of Regino of Prüm and Adalbert of Magdeburg. Manchester: Manchester up. MacLean, Simon (2009a). ‘Insinuation, censorship, and the struggle for Late Carolingian Lotharingia in Regino of Prüm’s Chronicle.’ English Historical Review 124 (506): 1–28. Mews, Constant, Cary Nederman and Rodney M. Thomson, eds. (2003). Rhetoric and Renewal in Medieval Europe, 1100–1540: Essays in Honour of John O. Ward. Turnhout: Brepols. Minnis, Alastair (1979). ‘Late-Medieval Discussions of Compilatio and the Rôle of the Compilator.’ Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 101: 385– 421. Minnis, Alastair (2006). ‘Nolens auctor sed compilator reputari: the late-medieval discourse of compilation.’ In Chazan and Dahan, eds. (2006): 47–63. Mortensen, Lars Boje (2015). ‘Comparing and Connecting: The Rise of Fast Historiography in Latin and Vernacular (12th–13th cent.).’ Medieval Worlds 1: 25–39. Murray, Alexander ed. (2015). A Companion to Gregory of Tours. Leiden: Brill. Odebrecht, Botho (1936). ‘Die Briefmuster des Henricus Francigena.’ Archiv für Urkundenforschung 14: 231–261. Orchard, Andy (2001). ‘The Literary Background to the Encomium Emmae Reginae.’ The Journal of Medieval Latin 11: 156–183. Orlandi, Giovanni (1996). ‘Un dilemma editoriale: ortografia e morfologia nelle Historiae di Gregorio di Tours.’ Filologia mediolatina 3: 35–71. Patt, William D. (1978). ‘The Early “Ars Dictaminis” as Response to a Changing Society.’ Viator 9: 138–146. Putter, Ad (2011). ‘Latin Historiography after Geoffrey of Monmouth.’ In Echard (2011). 85–97. Rebenich, Stefan (2002). Jerome. New York: Routledge. Reinhardt, Tobias, Michael Lapidge and J.N. Adams, eds. (2005). Aspects of the Language of Latin Prose. Oxford: oup.

154

lake

Sanchez-Prieto, Ana B. (2016). ‘Authority and authorship, tradition and invention, reading and writing in early medieval compilation genres: the case of Hrabanus Maurus’ De institutione clericorum.’ De medio Aevo 10: 179–240. Schmeidler, Bernhard (1916). ‘Vom patristischen Stil in der Literatur, besonders in der Geschichtsschreibung des Mittelalters.’ In Geschichtliche Studien Albert Hauck zum 70. Geburtstage dargebracht. Leipzig: J.C. Hinrich. 25–33. Shanzer, Danuta (2002/4). Review Article on Gregory of Tours: History and Society in the Sixth Century (Cambridge, 2001), by Martin Heinzelmann. Medieval Prosopography 23: 247–266. Shanzer, Danuta (2005). ‘Gregory of Tours and Poetry: Prose into Verse and Verse into Prose.’ In Reinhardt et al. (2005). 303–319. Simon, Gertrud (1958). ‘Untersuchungen zur Topik der Widmungsbriefe mittelalterlicher Geschichtsschreiber bis zum Ende des 12. Jahrhunderts,’ Part 1. Archiv für Diplomatik 4: 52–110. Simon, Gertrud (1959–1960). ‘Untersuchungen zur Topik der Widmungsbriefe mittelalterlicher Geschichtsschreiber bis zum Ende des 12. Jahrhunderts,’ Part 2. Archiv für Diplomatik 5–6: 73–153. Spörl, Johannes (1930). ‘Das Alte und Das Neue im Mittelalter: Studien zum Problem des mittelalterlichen Fortschrittsbewußtseins.’ Historisches Jahrbuch 50: 297–341, 498– 524. Staunton, Michael (2017). The Historians of Angevin England. Oxford: oup. Stock, Brian (1983). The Implications of Literacy: Written Language and Models of Interpretation in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton up. Thomson, Rodney M., Emily Dolmans and Emily A. Winkler, eds. (2017). Discovering William of Malmesbury. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press. Tyler, Elizabeth M. (2005). ‘Talking about history in eleventh-century England: the Encomium Emmae Reginae and the court of Harthacnut.’ Early Medieval Europe 13: 359–383. Uhlig, Claus (1973). Hofkritik im England des Mittelalters und der Renaissance. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Vanderputten, Steven (2005). ‘From sermon to science: monastic prologues from the southern Low Countries as witnesses of historical consciousness (10th–15th centuries).’ In Verbeke et al. (2005). 37–54. Verbeke, Werner, Ludo Mills and Jean Goossens, eds. (2005). Medieval Narrative Sources: A Gateway into the Medieval Mind. Mediaevalia Lovaniensia Series i: Studia, 34. Leuven: Leuven up. Vignodelli, Giacomo (2016). ‘Politics, prophecy, and satire: Atto of Vercelli’s Polipticum quod appellatur Perpendiculum.’ Early Medieval Europe 24: 209–235. Waitz, Georg (1858). ‘Beschreibung von Handschriften, welche in den Jahren 1839–1842 näher untersucht worden sind.’ Archiv der Gesellschaft für ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde 11: 248–514.

‘the malicious barking of critics’

155

Winterbottom, Michael (2003). ‘The Language of William of Malmesbury.’ In Mews et al. (2003). 129–147. Winterbottom, Michael (2017a). ‘The Vocabulary of William of Malmesbury.’ Aevum 91: 377–410. Winterbottom, Michael (2017b). ‘Words, Words, Words …’ In Thomson, Dolmans and Winkler (2017): 203–218. Winterbottom, Michael (2019). ‘Beginning a History: Studies in William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum Anglorum, Book One.’ The Journal of Medieval Latin 29: 101–121. Witt, Ronald (2011). Textual Cultures of Medieval Italy. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Wood, Ian (1993). ‘The Secret Histories of Gregory of Tours.’ Revue Belge de philologie et d’histoire 71: 253–270. Zimmerman, Albert, ed. (1974). Antiqui und Moderni: Traditionsbewußtsein und Fortschrittsbewußtsein im späten Mittelalter. Miscellanea Mediaevalia 9. Berlin: De Gruyter. Ziolkowski, Jan M. (2009). ‘Cultures of Authority in the Long Twelfth Century.’ Journal of English and Germanic Philology 108: 421–448.

8 The Creation of the Legend: The Pius Prince Dimitrij of Uglich Victoria Legkikh

Abstract Prince Dimitrij of Uglich, the son of Ivan iv, died in 1591. According to an official version he died from an attack of epilepsy. However, by 1606 the first texts appear that say the prince was killed by order of Boris Godunov. The version of the prince’s murder was used as the main episode of his vita. The 8-year old prince was not known to have had a particularly righteous life. However, the difficult times soon after the murder of the prince led to great veneration of him. According to the texts of 1606 and 1607, miracles that testified to his holiness were reported before the end of the sixteenth century. The need to venerate him brings us to a long tradition of canonising passion-bearers in Rus’. The texts of vitae and especially of hymnography bring us these traditions first through their parallels with the story of Boris and Gleb. The similarity of the sequence (the murder of the prince, followed by political instability) makes this parallel even more evident, and it brings us to the biblical quotation about rulers that are righteous and not righteous. The fact that Dimitrij was a child also brings us to the quotation from the gospel, that only children can enter heaven. This paper compares hymnographical texts with ‘historical’ ones to show how the new legend was created and how it functioned.

Prince Dimitrij Ioannovich died on the 15th of May, 1591. He was buried in the Spaso-Preobrazhenskij Cathedral of Uglich, even though the men of the royal family were usually buried in the Cathedral of the Archangel in Moscow Kremlin.1 According to the conclusion of the commission the death of the prince resulted from an accident, but the report of his murder on the orders of Boris Godunov was widespread at the same time.2 The English diplomat Horsey, who was in Yaroslavl at that time, reported that Andrei Nagoy, the uncle of the

1 Preobrazhenskij et al. (2007: 134). 2 Preobrazhenskij et al. (2007: 134).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_009

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

157

queen, said that one of his servants, the son of a clerk, had cut the throat of prince Dimitrij. When he was tortured he confessed that Boris Godunov had sent him. In a letter dated the 10th of June, 1591, Horsey reported that the prince ‘was brutally and treacherously killed; his throat was slit in the presence of his dear mother.’3 There are several sources that describe the character of the prince. For example, Fletcher wrote that the prince had the character traits of his father: he loved to watch livestock being killed and he slaughtered chickens and geese with a stick.4 Avraamij Palitsin wrote that under the influence of his relatives, Prince Dimitrij often spoke and acted ‘absurdly’ towards his brother’s advisers, especially with regard to Boris Godunov, who ruled the land on behalf of his brother-in-law Theodore.5 According to Bussov the prince ordered snow figures to be prepared and named after the tsar’s advisers. He chopped off their arms and legs, saying: ‘I will do this to him.’6 There could also be political reasons for describing him this way, but in any case we see that according to some sources the prince’s character was very different from being humble. The particular interest in the death of Dimitrij appeared after the Time of Troubles of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. One of the most detailed stories about the murder of Dimitrij is contained in the ‘New Chronicler’ (Novij Letopisets), which arose in the environment of Patriarch Filaret about 1630. The story outlines the prehistory of the murder, when Godunov was looking for a suitable killer. Later the story of the ‘New Chronicler’ was used for the creation of the Vita of Dimitrij, which came down as part of the Menaias Reader of Milyutin. The creators of the stories about the Time of Troubles were concerned about the connection between the death of Dimitrij and the disasters that struck Russia in the beginning of the seventeenth century.7 For example, an author of the ‘Tale of 1606’ considered the murder of the prince one of the main causes of the disasters that befell the country. Under this circumstance the image of the prince started to be changed, and one of the most important reasons for this change was his canonization in 1606 and the creation of a service for the prince. According to the sources from 1606 and 1607 the veneration of the prince had begun before the end of the sixteenth century.8 The service to him can be found in manuscripts that date from the seventeenth century.9 Prince Dimitrij

3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Horsey (1990: 130, 233). Fletcher (1905: 21). Palitsin, Skazanie, 251. Bussov (1966: 80). Preobrazhenskij et al. (2007: 134). Preobrazhenskij et al. (2007: 136). Barsukov (1882: 156).

158

legkikh

was commemorated on three dates: his birth on the 19th of October, his murder on the 15th of May and the transfer of the relics on the 16th of June. According to Feodosij Spasskij such frequent celebrations, which were not usual for other saints, had deep meaning for Vasili Shuisky, the tsar of Russia from 1606 till 1610. They were frequent reminders of Boris Godunov’s crime against the people.10 The first and the most important service was for the murder of the prince on May 15. At first, the service had one canon, but menaia of the end of the seventeenth century had two canons. Most likely the later service had at least two authors. According to Spasskij they were Semyon Shakhovskoy and Savvatij Teisha.11 Savvatij’s name is included in the text of the service: the acrostic of the canon reveals the phrase: ‘I praise the glory of Tsarevich Dimitrij’, and from the second troparion of the eighth ode till the end of the ninth ode the reverse reading of the initial letters gives the name of Savvatij.12 The service to Prince Dimitrij, which was most likely composed before his canonization, is first of all one of the most striking examples of princely service and, second, of the service to a martyr. The princely service had these major characteristics: – a constant emphasis on princely status; – a manifestation of kinship and continuity of princes; – the image of the root and branches; and – patronage of the princely family and Russia as a whole. In the service to the prince Dimitrij, his royal origins are often emphasized: – Царствовавшаго на земли отрасль бывъ13 (The branch of the reigning one) (the first sticheron on ‘Lord I’ve cried’)14 – Царскою диадимою одѣянъ богомудре мученице15 (You are dressed by the royal crown, oh God-wise martyr) (troparion) – Новыи страдальче, свѣтлая мученикомъ доброто, царевиче Димитрие16 (The new sufferer, the lightened beauty of the martyrs, oh prince Dimitrij) (the second sticheron on Lity) – От чреслъ царскихъ произшедъ17 (You came out from the royal reins) (the sessional hymn after the first kathisma) 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Spasskij (2008: 151). Spasskij (2008: 151–154). Spasskij (2008: 151–154). Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 214). In order to shorten a main text all the complete hymns in Slavic version will be placed in Appendix 2, while the short quotations will remain in the main text. Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 218v). Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 225). Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 219).

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

159

– Рождение твое отъ царскаго корене бысть18 (Your nativity is from the royal root) (the first troparion of the 5th ode of the 2nd canon). The royal root is shown as a source of grace: Яко цвѣтъ краснѣишии, от царска прозяблъ еси корене19 (You flourished like a beautiful flower from the royal root) (exapostilarion). Furthermore, this grace spans all who represent the family including Tsar Ivan iv: Из отца, благочестива царя, благодати тезоименна20 (You came from a pious father, whose name means grace) (the 1st troparion of the 8th ode of the second canon). For example, the kontakion in the first edition, whose incipit also refers to one of the main model services of ss Boris and Gleb, is the quintessence of this image: Kontakion of the 8th mode21 The blessed branch of a pious root ascended today. The well-grown grape has grown from the sceptre of the sovereigns of the Russian kingdom, and the fruit which is dear to Christ has appeared. So, the one Who invoked you from the earth to the eternal abode keeps your body, which was sacredly reddened by blood, unharmed. Oh, pious holy Dimitrij, keep your fatherland and your city unharmed, since you are their support.22 At the end of the chants there is often a request for patronage of their fatherland: моли благовѣрному царю нашему [имярекъ] побѣдительная на враги даровати23 pray to give to our good king [name] the conquer of the enemies (2nd sticheron on ‘Lord I’ve cried’). и межеусобную брань укроти, и благовѣрнаго царя нашего [имяре́къ] возвыси, и вся полезная даруи всегда людемъ твоимъ молитвами твоими24

18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Old-print menaion for May of 1691 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 157v). Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 225). Old-print menaion for May of 1691 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 162). The Slavic version of the complete texts see in appendix 2. All translations are my own unless otherwise indicated. Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 215). Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 217).

160

legkikh

and tame the border-line warfare, and wipe out our good tsar [name] and give to your people everything good by your prayers. (2nd sticheron on Lity) The compiler of the service faces a difficult task: Prince Dimitrij was the last in the royal family, but the chants contain both a prayer for the patronage of the royal family and a general prayer for the protection of the fatherland. In the second canon there appears the topic of the Time of Troubles (Smuta), which followed the death of the prince: ‘Лютое колебание бысть въ Российстѣй земли по смерти твоей, благовѣрный Димитрие’25 (‘Fierce hesitation came to the Russian land after your death, oh pius Dimitrij’) (3rd troparion of the 3rd ode of the 2nd canon to St Dimitrij). Spassky talks about independence of the service. However, upon closer examination, one can see the models used by the compiler. These models are very important for forming the image of the prince. One of the principal models for the ritual is the service to ss Boris and Gleb. The connection with the holy brothers is clear: they were also young and murdered for political reasons. In both cases the reason they were canonized was that they refused to fight, so in both cases they are canonized as passionbearers. Another not so evident reason is that ss Boris and Gleb were the first to be canonized (even if they were not the first chronologically). Therefore, we begin a dynasty of holy rulers starting with them,26 while Prince Dimitrij was the last of the dynasty, so after his death the Time of Troubles started. Like the holy brothers, Prince Dimitrij is often called Abel and the lamb and, although these images are to be found in other services in connection with borrowed phrases, they show a clear parallel with the holy brothers. table 8.1

2nd troparion of the 5th ode of the second canon to ss Boris and Gleb

1st troparion of the 6th ode of the first canon to St Dimitrij

The brother-murder got angry as in the story of Cain, He accursed Svyatopolk, and he appeared as a lawbreaker

The enemy-murder fired up by the envy

25 26

being defeated by the lust for power

Old-print menaion for May of 1691 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 157). Even if chronologically they were not the first holy rulers, they were the first canonized ones.

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich table 8.1

161

(cont.)

2nd troparion of the 5th ode of the second canon to ss Boris and Gleb

1st troparion of the 6th ode of the first canon to St Dimitrij

and he added a murder to his envy, being charmed by the power of voluptuousness but you did not escape from the righteous vengeance.

and he added a murder to his envy, he slaughtered you like a pure lamb, oh martyr, but you did not escape from the righteous vengeance.

The parallels make clear what was borrowed from the service for Boris and Gleb. This is made even clearer by the story of Cain and Abel, which became one of the main elements in the service for ss Boris and Gleb. The second example also uses the story of Cain and Abel, but here the quotation comes directly from the Old Testament: ‘The Lord said, “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground”’ (Gen. 4:10).27 3rd troparion of the 6th ode of the 2nd canon God has shown His wonder through you, since after so many years your innocent blood cries out, like the blood of Abel to Cain, to your slave and murderer, who was the king. He was defeated, but you rejoice now, staying with Christ, the King and the God of all. Another example is the troparion to St Dimitrij of the first version of the service. Here we see borrowing from the best known troparion to ss Boris and Gleb: table 8.2

Troparion of the 2nd mode to ss Boris and Gleb

Troparion of the 4th mode to St Dimitrij You are dressed in the royal crown, oh God-wise martyr,

27

New International Version (https://biblehub.com/genesis/4‑10.htm) (last accessed 12–12– 2021).

162

legkikh

table 8.2

(cont.)

Troparion of the 2nd mode to ss Boris and Gleb

Righteous passion-bearers. and the true followers of the Gospel chaste Roman with humble David you did not confront the enemy and brother murdering your bodies but not being able to touch your soul, and the cruel power-lover will cry and you face the Trinity, rejoicing with angels. Pray for the patria of your family to be pious and save Russian sons.

Troparion of the 4th mode to St Dimitrij Instead of a sceptre you received the cross in your arm, You came like a winner and you gave yourself as a sacral victim, oh Dimitrij, You appeared as a great healer in the Russian kingdom, bringing in yourself the image of the wonder: You received slaughter from a slave, like an innocent lamb, murdering your bodies but not being able to touch your soul, and the cruel power-lover will cry and you face the Trinity. Pray for the patria of your family to be pious and save Russian sons.

Another interesting example is the doxastichon of the 8th mode to St Dimitrij: table 8.3 Doxastichon of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb

1st troparion of the 9th Kontakion of the 8th ode of the 1st canon mode to ss Boris and to ss Boris and Gleb Gleb28 (unified version)

Come, newly converted assemblies of Russian folk and see how the martyr Boris accepts the trial without fault:

28

For further information, see Rothe (1985: 337).

Doxastichon of the 8th mode to St Dimitrij

Come now, assembles of Russian folk, and see the gentle lamb,

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich table 8.3

163

(cont.)

Doxastichon of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb

1st troparion of the 9th Kontakion of the 8th ode of the 1st canon mode to ss Boris and to ss Boris and Gleb Gleb (unified version)

his ribs were pierced with a spear, and the shedding of blood came from the infestation of the devil; and Gleb from the same Even if you were left on brother, the earth as the dead, in heaven you are alive and praised with the martyrs, and he was hidden as one who received the between two logs. audacity but they were crowned, and fought off with fire, and he died without hon- oh blessed, our; they are praised, and he The wicked who stayed suffers in hell, near your coffin. and they pray Christ for our souls. was slaughtered like a lamb.

Doxastichon of the 8th mode to St Dimitrij

slaughtered without fault, victorious Dimitrij.

Even if you were murdered and put into a coffin, but you reached the heavenly reign,

your body was buried in a coffin as a dead man,

for those who call on you with faith for help

to give to our pious tsar [name], who praises you faithfully, health and victory over enemies, and to save our souls.

and your soul rejoices in the heaven with martyrs and angels, as an alive one this one was pierced as his miracles given by God with a spear, testify, and another one was oh, passion-bearer Christ’s slaughtered like a gentle Dimitrij, lamb. So, your blood became a that you received with prayhealing to the world ers, angels and martyrs, pray to the All-Holy Trinity,

The beginning of this doxastichon has a parallel with the doxastichon to ss Boris and Gleb of the same mode. Moreover, there is an image of the lamb in both hymns. The phrases in the middle belong to the kontakion to ss Boris and Gleb of the early version and to the troparion of the canon to ss Boris and Gleb of the later version. Since the kontakion to ss Boris and Gleb was modelled on the Easter kontakion, the parallel goes directly to Christ. Another parallel with holy brothers is the rejection of the early kingdom for the heavenly one. This theme is present in several chants of the service to St Dimitrij.

164

legkikh

тлѣннаго ради и мимотекущаго царьства от своихъ рабъ убиенъ бысть, и нетлѣнное Царство восприятъ на небесѣхъ Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 214)

you were killed by your slaves for the sake of a perishable and fleeting kingdom, but you received the imperishable kingdom in heaven) (1st sticheron on ‘Lord I’ve cried’ Что тя именуем, страстотерпче, родителя земнаго оставилъ еси и небеснаго Бога Отца получилъ еси. Вышнии Иерусалимъ, матерь всѣхъ, возлюбилъ еси, идѣже со Христомъ нынѣ царствуеши Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 218)

How can we name you, oh passion-bearer, you left an earthy parent and received the heavenly God-Father, you loved the heavenly Jerusalem, where you reign together with Christ (3rd sticheron on aposticha) This topic also appears in the service to ss Boris and Gleb. Especially clear is the parallel to the third troparion of the first canon of the 2nd canon. table 8.4

1st sticheron for the Lity to ss Boris and Gleb

3rd troparion of the 1st ode of the 2nd canon to St Dimitrij

Even if the new Cain, God-hater and murderer, deprived you of an earthy kingdom, Christ gave you eternal and endless reign, you await Him with the angelical forces, Pray to save [us] by love for singing

Even if your slave and murderer deprived you of an earthy kingdom, instead of this you received heaven, oh sufferer Dimitrij, and you rejoice there with divine beauty and merriment pray that Christ, our God, gives us great mercy

your honoured and much celebrated commemoration.

Another parallel with the holy brothers is the emphasis on their youth. The service to St Dimitrij often underscores that the prince was still a child:

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

165

От младенстьва душею къ Богу прилепися и сего ради вѣнцемъ мучения вѣнчася Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 219v)

You attached your soul to God since you were an infant, so you were crowned by the crown of martyrdom (sessional hymn of the 8th mode on polyeleos) Из младеньства изгнанъ бысть земнаго царства, но небесному Царству от Бога сподобися Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 220)

You were banished from an earthy kingdom but you received the heavenly kingdom from the God (sticheron of the 8th mode after the 50th psalm) Паче плотьскаго благородия духовное получилъ еси: Христу бо от младеньства душею прилѣпися Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 217)

You received more spiritual aristocracy than the earthly one: you attached yourself to God since your infancy (the first sticheron on Lity) Sometimes it even gives the precise age: Осмолѣтнымъ юностнымъ цвѣтомъ украшаемь Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 214)

You are decorated by the flourishing of your 8-year-old nonage (2nd sticheron on ‘Lord I’ve cried’) конецъ житию осмолѣтным возрастомъ мученически совершивъ Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 218)

you made martyrdom the end of your 8-year-old life (1st sticheron on aposticha) The same topic is one of the main themes in the service to ss Boris and Gleb. For example, in one of the best-known sessional hymns of the 1st mode:

166

legkikh

From your youth you loved Christ, oh great brothers, longing for an eternal life, oh glorious, wanting chastity and fasting from the destructive passions, so you hastened and received the divine grace that heals those who suffer. Sometimes in the hymn we see several models, and all of them are chosen consciously. For example, the doxastichon of the 8th mode contains incipit of the doxastichon of the 5th mode to the Dormition of Theotokos: Придѣте, празнолюбныхь соборь, придѣте, ликь составимь, придѣте, вѣнчаимь пѣсми церковь Menaion of the 15th century for August (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 586, fol. 110)

Come, ye assembly of those who love the feasts of the Church! Come, let us form a choir! Come, and let us crown the temple of the ark of God with hymns and repose!29 The doxastichon of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb: Приидѣте въсхвалим чюдотворцу мученику, вы бо законо страдавше побѣдисте съпротивнаго врага Festal menaion of the 15th century (rnl, f. Solovetsky Monastery, nr. 1077/1186. fol. 191v)

Come, let us praise the wonderworkers and martyrs, by suffering you have defeated the enemy And the doxastichon of the 5th mode to Demetrius of Thessaloniki: Стецѣмся вѣрою и любовию, взопиим препразднественая и восплещаимъ руками в настоащее торжество первоначалника нашего Menaion for October of the 1501. (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 482, fol. 215).

We will come with faith and love, we will call for the feast, and we will raise our hands to the triumph of our lord

29

Quoted from the translation on the website https://www.ponomar.net/maktabah/Menaio nLambertsenAugust2000/0815486.html (last accessed 12–12–2021).

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

167

Doxastichon of the 8th mode: Come, those who love the feasts of the Church! Come, let us form a choir! Come, and let us praise a wonderworker and martyr. We will come with faith and love, we will call for the feast and in the triumph of this eminent strong vindicator, great martyr Dimitry, who prays to Christ, our God, for us and gives us with his prayers forbearance and salvation for our souls. All the three models form the image of the prince: the purest Theotokos, innocent Boris and Gleb and the strong warrior Demetrius. So, we see the prince as a pure innocent lamb but at the same time a strong warrior who can come to the aid of his land. Since we remember that shortly after his death the Time of Troubles started, we see that this image covers the need for protection but also the need for purity, which is underlined by the fact that Dimitry was a child. The interesting example of the compilation can be seen in the cycle of the stichera on ‘Praises’, which has three different borrowings. The first one follows the model of a sticheron on ‘Praises’ from the service to St Michael of Chernigov, which, in its turn, was made according to the model of the sticheron on aposticha from the service to ss Boris and Gleb: table 8.5

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on aposticha to ss Boris and Gleb (the early version) Come, chastity-lovers we will praise the honoured duality

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to ss Mikhael and Theodor of Chernigov

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij of Uglich

You have given a sign You have given a sign to your church of the new marto Your church of the new martyrs, Mikhail and gentle Theodor tyrs, the pious prince Dimitrij, suffering without fault and shedding his blood like water: who loved Christ, who loved Christ, to you, possessing everything possessing everything possessing everything with a pure heart and perfect with a pure heart and perfect loving a pure heart and broken soul, soul, soul, passion-bearer Roman and both being defenders of the faith you are the defender of the glorious gentle David, faith

168 table 8.5

legkikh (cont.)

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on aposticha to ss Boris and Gleb (the early version)

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to ss Mikhael and Theodor of Chernigov

being pure in your souls and and the source of wonders your bodies, defeating the regiments of defeating the regiments of demons. demons.

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij of Uglich

and the source of wonders, defeating the regiments of demons.

Mikhail was the prince of Chernigov (Chernihiv) in the thirteenth century. He refused to bow down in front of idols, so he was executed together with his servant Theodor. This forms a parallel between Dimitry, who was murdered for political reasons, with a martyr who was executed for his faith. Since during the Time of Troubles the first fake Dimitrij was oriented to catholic Poland, this makes special sense showing the last prince as the last column of Orthodoxy. The second sticheron on ‘Praises’ keeps the incipit of the second sticheron of the cycle to ss Boris and Gleb and also the cycle to ss Mikhail and Theodore. However, after the incipit it follows the model of the sticheron to St Christina, who is commemorated together with ss Boris and Gleb:30 table 8.6

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Christina

you keep the cross in your hands like a sovereign weapon, oh martyr Christina, faith like a shield, hope like an armour, love like a bow,

30

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij You have grown up from the pious root, the pious branch, oh Dimitrij, since your infancy you took the cross like a weapon on your shoulder, faith like a shield, hope like armour, and meekness like an oscord,

This sticheron is similar to the doxastichon on aposticha to holy martyr Paraskevi.

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich table 8.6

169

(cont.)

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Christina

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij

thou hast overcome the tormentors manfully, you have abolished the demon of deceit, oh divine, having your head cut off, you rejoice with Christ praying ceaselessly for our souls.

overcoming enemies and militias of demons and you are the victor over enemies, So, you rejoice with angels praying ceaselessly for our souls.

The parallel with St Christina, the virgin and martyr for Christianity, also depicts the prince as the last stronghold of Orthodoxy. The third sticheron goes directly to the sticheron of the 1st mode on the ‘Praises’ service to ss Boris and Gleb, but the sticheron to ss Boris and Gleb follows the model of a sticheron to the holy Martyr Stephan: table 8.7 o҅ Οἶκος τοῦ Ἁγίου Πρω- Ikos to holy martyr Stephan 3rd sticheron of the 1st τομάρτυρος, καὶ Ἀρχιδιαmode on ‘Praises’ to ss κόνου Στεφάνου,31 Boris and Gleb (early version)

3rd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij

Ὡς ἀστὴρ φαεινὸς σήμερον συνεξέλαμψε, τῇ Γεννήσει Χριστοῦ,

As a bright star,

As a bright star,

As two stars

you shone at the birth of Christ,

you enlighten the world by you enlighten the souls your wonderful shining, of the faithful by your wonderful shining, oh passion-bearers of oh passion-bearer, Christ, Roman and David, pious Dimitrij, fighting off the sinful fighting off the darkdarkness. ness of our passions and sicknesses, so, we sing joyfully, giving health to all, who kiss reverently

ὁ Πρωτομάρτυς Στέφανος oh, first martyr Stephen, ἀστράπτων καὶ φωτίζων τὰ πέρατα ἅπαντα

shining and enlightening the ends of the earth,

τῶν Ἰουδαίων μόνον ἠμαύρωσε τὴν πᾶσαν δυσσέβειαν

you overshadowed all the wrath of the Jews,

31

Quoted from the ‘Venetion’ menaion (Μηνᾶιoν, 07 1863: 219).

170 table 8.7

legkikh (cont.)

o҅ Οἶκος τοῦ Ἁγίου Πρω- Ikos to holy martyr Stephan 3rd sticheron of the 1st τομάρτυρος, καὶ Ἀρχιδιαmode on ‘Praises’ to ss κόνου Στεφάνου, Boris and Gleb (early version)

3rd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij

σοφίας λόγοις τούτους διελέγξας, *απὸ τῶν Γραφῶν διαλεγόμενος

your long-suffering relics, oh, pray for our souls.

you unmasked them with the praising your commemwisdom of your word, oration talking about Holy Writ proving by this that Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin, the Son of God and himself God, and shamed their unholy wrath, oh the first martyr, Stephen.

The creator borrows the early version of the text, showing his knowledge of the first service to the holy brothers: table 8.8

3rd sticheron of the 1st 3rd sticheron of the 1st 3rd sticheron of the 1st mode on mode on ‘Praises’ to ss Boris mode on ‘Praises’ to ss Boris ‘Praises’ to St Dimitrij and Gleb (early version) and Gleb (unified version) As two stars you enlighten the world by your wonderful shining, oh passion-bearers of Christ, Roman and David, fighting off the sinful darkness. so, we sing joyfully,

As one light in two bodies you enlighten the world by your wonderful shining, oh passion-bearers of Christ,

As a bright star, you enlighten the souls of the faithful by your wonderful shining, oh passion-bearer, pious Dimitrij,

fighting off the darkness of our passions and sicknesses, so, we sing joyfully, giving health to all who reverently kiss praising your commemoration praising your commemoration your long-suffering relics, oh, pray for our souls.

Later on this cycle was borrowed without changes as a cycle on aposticha to the service for St Andrey Bogolubsky, who was canonized on the 29th of June, 1702.

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

171

Sometimes we see the chain of borrowings, and all the models are chosen accurately. The same sticheron to St Christina is used also in another chant to St Dimitry, but in this case the model was borrowed from the service to another saint, St Constantine of Murom: table 8.9

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Christina

You keep the cross in your hands like a sovereign weapon, oh martyr Christina, faith like a shield, hope like armour, love like a bow, thou hast overcome the tormentors manfully, you have abolished the demon of deceit, oh divine, having your head cut off, you rejoice with Christ praying ceaselessly for our souls

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on ‘Praises’ to St Constantine of Murom

You keep the cross in your hands like a sovereign weapon, faith like a shield, hope like armour, love like a bow, armed against the charm, manfully You taught us to worship the one God with audacity, pray, oh prince Constantine, for our souls

2nd sticheron of the 8th mode on Lity to St Dimitrij

Oh, new sufferer, the bright goodness of martyrs, the prince Dimitrij, You keep the cross sovereignly like a weapon, faith like a shield, hope like armour, armed against the charm, you affirmed deeply the life of the Orthodox in the world, and stop the internecine fight, and exalt our pious tsar (name), and always give everything good to the people by your prayers.

St Constantine was not only a martyr for the faith, he was also a converter of Murom. The parallel with him brings us to the idea of the continuity of Orthodoxy till the time of the pious princes. The death of the last prince also brings religious trouble to the land. From St Christina, who was among the first martyrs for Christianity, through St Constantine, who was among the first martyrs in Rus, Dimitrij, the last prince, receives the image of being the last pious ruler in a land in trouble. Another chant that sends us to the first martyr uses the first phrase from the hymn used in both the service to St Christina and the service to St Catherine, even if here it was most probably was used in the hymn to St Christina, who is commemorated together with ss Boris and Gleb:

172

legkikh

table 8.10

Sessional hymn of the 1st mode to St Christina

Sessional hymn of the 4th mode after the 2nd kathisma to St Dimitrij

You brought your blood, oh pure one, like an alabaster container of chrism to Christ, your groom, the love you received your reward from Him, oh wonderful martyr, the divine imperishable crown,

You brought your blood, like an alabaster container of chrism, to Christ, oh pious prince Dimitrij. So, the alabaster Great Giver God glorified you, and exalted you with your gracious wonders, so, we venerate with joy your commemoration, oh wonderful.

so, you received the grace through healing by the spiritual force

As we can see, the creator almost never borrows directly. Normally all the chants are adapted to the vita of the prince. But among the troparia of the canons we can find some direct borrowings, which also have parallels with the first martyrs. This kind of borrowing in canons was possible, since by that time troparia of canons were not sung, so that was not necessary. The troparia had the same structure as an hermoses of odes. For example, the 2nd troparion of the 4th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitrij was borrowed from the service to St Mammes of Caesarea: table 8.11

3rd troparion of the 9th ode of the 1st canon to St Mammes

2nd troparion of the 5th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitrij

Having boldness towards God, making joyfully your triumph, oh martyr, we praise your sacred suffering, by pure faith commemorating you, oh pious one. Save us from storms and troubles and misfortunes.

Having boldness towards God, making your triumph, oh martyr and we praise your sacred suffering by pure faith commemorating you, oh pious one. Save us from storms and troubles and misfortunes.

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

173

It is important that St Mammes was not only among the first Christian martyrs but also that he was very young (about 16). His name was well known to Russians, since his commemoration was the second day of September, immediately after the new year, and also because of the many notifications of the Typikon refer the troparion to him, and it became a common troparion for a reverend father. Another example of direct borrowing is the 1st troparion of the 7th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitry, which is borrowed from the service to St Andrew Stratelates: table 8.12

2nd troparion of the 3rd ode of the canon to St Andrew Stratelates

1st troparion of the 7th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitrij

You are the victor over the temptations of the evil and being above his cunning, oh martyr, you are glorified.

You are the victor over the temptations of the evil slave and being above his cunning, oh martyr, you are glorified, yelling, Oh God, you are blessed.

Here again we see not only a martyr but also a warrior. This is important for the image of the prince, since one of the main functions of the last prince is to save his land and to help defeat the enemies. The fact that St Andrew is also among the first Christian martyrs emphasizes that Dimitrij continues this line, also saving his land after his death. Summarizing, I can say that the image of the prince was completely changed after his canonization in 1606. According to the testimony of the contemporaries, the prince shows character traits of his father. He might have been cruel and brute but the possible murder of him made his image much softer. According to the testimony and to the commission of the inquiry the prince died due to the accident. Many contemporaries testified that the prince was cruel and bad tempered. But the stories of the Chronicles showed the Time of Troubles as the retribution of the God for the murder of the last prince. To confirm this point of view we need more sources showing the martyrdom of the prince and his angelic entity. The Chronicles do not give it enough. However, the service to the prince Dimitrij can be considered as one of the most important sources for seeing the changes of his image from the cruel child to the innocent mar-

174

legkikh

tyr. It is one of the most significant services of the princely type and it contains all the signs of that type. This signifies that, by this time, the ‘princely’ type of service had already been formed. The conscious choice of models, their adaptation and the addition of facts from the vita make the service more independent than most services of the second half of the sixteenth century. The models, which are mainly taken from services to martyrs, form a canonical image of a passion-bearer. Parallels with Cain and Abel put the prince in the context of the Old Testament, parallels with the first martyrs put the prince in the context of the beginning of Christianity, and parallels with royal Russian martyr saints put him in the context of Russian history. The fact that the prince was still a child is mentioned all the time to emphasize his innocence and purity. But other parallels with holy warriors show his power to help his land and the pious rulers who came after him. One of the main parallels of the service—the holy brothers Boris and Gleb—not only connects with his youth and his innocence, it also points to the continuity of the pious princely family from the first holy princes to the last one.

Appendix 1—Liturgical Terms Used in the Article Liturgical Books Typikon (Τυπικόν)

Menaion (Μηναῖον) Triodion (Τριῴδιον) Lental Triodion Pentekostarion Oktoechos (ἡ Ὀκτώηχος) Akathist (Ἀκάθιστος)

Canon (Kανών)

a liturgical book which contains instructions about the order of the Byzantine Rite, the menologion, with variable hymns and rules and instructions about monastic life contains hymnographical texts for fixed dates of the calendar year contains hymnographical texts for movable feasts: contains hymnography for the Pre-Lent period, the Great Lent, and the Holy Week contains hymnography from the morning service of Easter till the octave of the Pentecost. contains hymnography for the week in an eightmode system a type of hymn dedicated to a saint, holy event, or one of the persons of the Holy Trinity. It is consists of kontakions and oikoses. a hymn in the service of matins. It consists of nine Odes. Every Ode includes several troparion. Originally it was sung but in later liturgical practice it was read

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

175

Kontakion (Kοντάκιον)

a hymn which in its original form was divided into strophes; it begins with a prologue. In later liturgical practice it became a short hymn sung after the sixth Ode of a canon Oikos (Oἶκος) a hymn which is sung after a kontakion in liturgical practice. It is also known as a part of the akathist Sessional hymn (Κάθισμα) a short hymn sung during Matins Sticheron (Στιχηρόν) a type of liturgical hymn sung in the Orthodox church mainly during Vespers and Matins The main types are the following: Doxastichon a sticheron that follows the words ‘Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit’ Theotokion a sticheron that is dedicated to the Theotikos Cycle of stichera that come at the end of Κύριε ἐκέκραξα (‘Lord, I Have Cried’, Ps 140.1) Cycle of stichera sung during aposticha (Άπόστιχα), which literally means ‘hymns on the verses’. Stichera are sung to the accompaniment of psalm verses Cycle of stichera sung during lity (Λιτή), a festive procession followed by intersessions, which augments the Great Vesper Cycle of stichera at Praises (στιχηρὰ εἰς τοὺς αἴνους), which are sung after Psalms 148, 149, 150 Sticheron sung after the Psalm 50 Svetilen a type of hymn sung after the 9th Ode of a canon. Troparion (Tροπάριον) a short hymn of one or several stanzas devoted to a particular feast and showing its main charachteristics.

Appendix 2—Slavic Texts Kontakion of the 8th mode Возсия днесь благоцвѣтущая отрасль, благочестиваго корене, от скипетръ державныхъ русиискаго царствия, доброрасленыи грезнъ израсте, и Христови красенъ плодъ прозябе, тѣмже от земля возвавыи тя к вѣчным обителемъ, соблюдаетъ и по убиении твоем невредимо тѣло твое, страдальчески обагрено кровию, благороднее святее Димитрие, соблюдай отечество свое и градъ твой невредим, тому бо еси утвержение. Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 223)

176

legkikh

table 8.13

2nd troparion of the 5th ode of the 2nd canon to ss Boris and Gleb from the Old-print menaion for July of the 17th century (rsl, f. 272, nr. 254 fol. 294).

1st troparion of the 6th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 222v).

Разгневася братоубиица, яко Каинъ прежде, Святополкъ окаянныи, и явися законопреступникъ и к завѣсти убииство преплете, властию прелестився сластолюбия.

Разжегся завистию, рабъ-убиица

отмщения же праведнаго не убежа.

побѣжден властолюбием и к зависти убииство приплете закла тя, яко агньца непорочна, мучениче, отмщения же праведнаго не убѣжа

3rd troparion of the 6th ode of the 2nd canon Дивство велие показа Богъ тобою, како по толицѣхъ лѣтѣх вопиющи неповинная кровь твоя, аки Авелева на Каина, на раба твоего и убийцу, иже и царь бысть, и пришедъши, злѣ погуби его. Ты же присно радуешися, пребывая у Христа Царя и Бога всѣхъ. Old-print menaion for May of 1691 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 160) table 8.14

Troparion of the 2nd mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menologium of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, р. 1, Nr. 364. fols. 248 v.–249).

Правдивая стастотерпьца.

и истинна послушателя Еуагелию

Troparion of the 4th mode to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fols. 218v– 219). Царскою диадимою одѣянъ, богомудре мучениче, за скипетръ- крестъ в руку приемъ, явися яко побѣдоносецъ и всесожжения жертву священну себе принеслъ еси, Димитрие показася изряденъ врачь русскому царствию,

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

177

table 8.14 (cont.)

Troparion of the 2nd mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menologium of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, р. 1, Nr. 364. fols. 248 v.–249).

Troparion of the 4th mode to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fols. 218v– 219).

целомудреныи Романе. съ незлобивымь Давыдомъ. не супротивустасте врагу брату.

образъ в себѣ чюдотворения нося:

яко агнецъ непороченъ, от раба заколение прият, yбивающему ваше телеса, души же убивающаго тѣло души же коснукосноyтися не могуще, тися не могуща, да плачется yбо злыи властолюда плачется убо злыи властолюбец, бець вы же радyющеся с ликы агегльты же радуяся предстоиши Святѣи скыми предстоястѣи Троицы, Троицѣ молитеся о дръжавѣ сродникъ молися о державѣ сродникъ твоих, вашихъ. Богоугодне бытии и сыновомъ благоугоднѣ быти и сыновомъ русрускымъ спастися скимъ спастися

table 8.15 Doxastichon of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menaion of the 16th century for July (lmab, F. 19, nr. 170). Приидите, новокрещении Рустии собори, и видите, како без вины судъ приемлеть мученикъ Борисъ: копиемъ бо ребра его прободоша и крови пролитие сотвориша от наваждения диаволя;

1st troparion of the 9th ode of the 1st canon to ss Boris and Gleb (“Pachomius’s version”) from the Menaion of the 16th century for July (rsl, f. 37, nr. 201, fol. 238v).

Kontakion of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menaion for July of the 15th century (rnl, Sofia’s collection, № 403, ff. 485–485 v.).

Doxastichon of the 8th mode to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 236). Приидѣте днесь, собори Русстии, и видите незлобиваго агньца, закланнаго неповинно, побѣдоносца Димитрия.

178

legkikh

table 8.15 (cont.) Doxastichon of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menaion of the 16th century for July (lmab, F. 19, nr. 170).

1st troparion of the 9th ode of the 1st canon to ss Boris and Gleb (“Pachomius’s version”) from the Menaion of the 16th century for July (rsl, f. 37, nr. 201, fol. 238v).

Kontakion of the 8th mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menaion for July of the 15th century (rnl, Sofia’s collection, № 403, ff. 485–485 v.).

Глеб же от тогоже брата Святополка,

Аще и на земли оставлена быста яко мертва,

Аще и убиена быста и въ гробъ положена,

Doxastichon of the 8th mode to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 236).

Тѣломъ убо во гробѣ погребенъ бысть, яко мертвъ, яко агнецъ, заколенъ и на небесѣ́хъ живыи съ но на вышнее царство душею же на бысть. мученики прославляетеся приступиста, Небесѣхъ со Аггелы и съ мученики ликоствуетъ, яко живъ, И межу двѣма колояко дръзновения стяжавше ового бо копьи насунуша, якоже свидѣтельдома сокровенъ бысть ствуютъ и бого. дарованная его чюдеса. Но сия вѣнчастася, нечисто стоящаго над гро- а другаго яко агньца страстоносче Хриа онъ без памети бом вашим, незлобива ножемь зарѣ- стовъ Димитрие, погибе. заша И сия в мѣре славима блажении, огнем отгнасте. Тѣмь и кровь ваю бысть с молебники прибѣста, а онъ во геенѣ́ ицѣление миру имъ, Аггельския мучитъся. лики и мученики, Сия же Христа Бога молися Пресвятѣи молѣ́ те о душах Троицѣ нашихъ вѣрою призывающимъ вѣрно чтущему тя, ваю, святая, на помощь благовѣрному царю нашему (имярекъ), здравие даровати, и на враги одолѣние, и спасти душа наша.

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

179

table 8.16

1st sticheron on Lityof the 4th mode to ss Boris and Gleb from the Menaion of the 16th century for July (rsl, f. 37, nr. 201, fol. 224).

3rd troparion of the 1st ode of the 2nd canon to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1691 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 156).

Аще и земнаго царствия,

Аще рабъ твой и убийца, земнаго тя царства и лиши

новыи Каин богоненавистникъ и братоненавистныи убииствъни лиши вас Христос же непреходящее и бесконечное царство вам даровалъ еси, Емуже съ аггельскыми воинствы предстоящи, молитеся спасти любовию поющих всечестную и многопразднетвеную память вашю всечестную.

ты же вмѣсто того, страдалче Димитрие, Небесное восприялъ еси и тамо наслаждаяся божественныхъ красотъ и веселия моли Христа Бога даровати намъ велию милость

Sessional hymns of the 1st mode: Измлада Христа възлюбльше купно, брата честная, жизни нестарѣющиа въжделѣвши, славна, цѣломудрие изволиста, и пощения о страсти душегубныхъ, тѣмь поспѣшьство, божественыа благодати, приимъше исцѣляета болящая. Menaion of the 16th century for July (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 582, fol. 247v)

Doxastichon of the 8th mode: Приидѣте, празднолюбцы, ликъ составимъ, приидѣте, восхвалимъ чюдотворца и мученика. Стецемся вѣрою и любовию и возопиемъ празднственая в настоящее торжество преименитаго сего и твердаго поборника, великомученика царевича Димитрия: сей бо молитъ о насъ Христа Бога нашего, и подаетъ намъ молитвами своими отпущение грѣхомъ и душамъ спасение. Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v).

180

legkikh

table 8.17

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on aposticha to ss Boris and Gleb (Jon’s version) from the Trefolog for Russian saints of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 624, fol. 52v).

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to ss Mikhail and Theodore of Chernigov from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v).

Приидѣте цѣломудриялюбьци Далъ еси знамение честъную двоицю почьтѣмъ Церкви Твоеи новоявленных мученикъ, Михаила купно и добляго Феодора

Христа възлюбивъшая, въсѣмъ владѣюща чистыимь сердцемъ и душею съвьршеною страстоносца Романа славьнааго и кротъкаго Давыда достославьнаго, иже душама и телесема чистая, съкрушьшая бѣсовьскыя пълкы

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Dimiitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v).

Христа возлюбивших всѣми Владущаго чистым сердцемъ и душею совершеною обои поборникы вѣрѣ

Далъ еси знамение Церкви Твоей, Господи,новоявленнаго чюдотворца, благовѣрнаго царевича Димитрия, неповинно пострадавшаго и кровь свою, яко воду, пролиявшаго: Тебе бо, всѣми Владущаго, возлюбивъ чистымъ сердцемъ, и душею сокрушенною бысть поборникъ вѣрѣ

и источникы чюдесѣмъ

и источникъ чюдесем,

скрушивъша бѣсовскaя опол- потопивъ бѣсовская ополчечения. ния.

table 8.18

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” from the Menaion for July of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 582, fol. 256v–257).

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Dimitrij from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v). От корене израсте благочестиваго, розга благовѣрная, Димитрие,

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

181

table 8.18 (cont.)

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” from the Menaion for July of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 582, fol. 256v–257).

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Dimitrij from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v).

Кръст, яко оружие дрьжавно, Христино мученице, дрьжащи руками. вѣру, яко щитъ, надежду, яко броня, любовъ—лукъ, мучителеи томления побѣдила еси мужескыи, бѣсомъ коварьствия упразднила еси, Божественѣ, въ главу же усѣкновена бывши, ликуеши о Христе непрестанно молящи о душахъ нашихъ.

из младеньства Крест, якооружие, на рамо си вземъ, вѣру, яко щитъ,надежу, яко броня, кротость и незлобие, якооскордъ, побѣждающь враги и бѣсовскаяополчения и побѣдитель врагомъ бысть, сего ради, ликуеши соАнгелы, непрестанно моли о душахъ наших

table 8.19 Ikos to St, martyr Stephan from the so called ‘Venetion’ menaion (Μηνα҄ιον, 07 1863: 219).

Ikos to St, martyr Stephan from the menaion for July of 1513 (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 505, fol. 369).

Sticheron of the 1st mode to ss Boris and Gleb (“John’s version”) from the menaion for July of the 12th century (rsao, f. 381, nr. 122, fol. 113).

3rd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Dimitrij from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v).

Ὡς ἀστὴρ φαεινὸς σήμε- Яко звѣзда свѣтлая, ρον συνεξέλαμψε, τῇ Γεννήσει Χριστοῦ, днeсь облиста Рожеcтву Христову ὁ Πρωτομάρτυς Στέφα- прьвомyченъ νος Стефaнъ,

Яко звѣздѣ двѣ,

Яко звѣзда пресвѣтлая,

мира просвѣщаета чудесныими блистании, страстотрьпца Господня Романе и Давыде,

ἀστράπτων καὶ φωτίζων облистaя и проτὰ πέρατα ἅπαντα свѣщaя земныя конца, τῶν Ἰουδαίων μόνον иудeем же токмо ἠμαύρωσε τὴν πᾶσαν омрачи все злочeстие. δυσσέβειαν

мракъ грѣховьныи отгоняяща

просвѣщаищи душа вѣрныхъ чюдесными сиянии, страстоносче Господень, благовѣрныи Димитрие, мракъ страстей иболезней нашихъ отгоняеши,

тѣмь въспѣваемъ радостьно,

здравие же всѣмъдаруеши, любезно цѣлующимъ

182

legkikh

table 8.19 (cont.) Ikos to St, martyr Stephan from the so called ‘Venetion’ menaion (Μηνα҄ιον, 07 1863: 219).

Ikos to St, martyr Stephan from the menaion for July of 1513 (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 505, fol. 369).

Sticheron of the 1st mode to ss Boris and Gleb (“John’s version”) from the menaion for July of the 12th century (rsao, f. 381, nr. 122, fol. 113).

σοφίας λόγοις τούτους мудростию Слова сих похваляюще ваю память διελέγξας, обличи *απὸ τῶν Γραφῶν διαλε- и о Писании бѣседуя γόμενος

3rd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Dimitrij from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v). многострадалныя твоя мощи, молитвенниче о душахъ нашихъ.

table 8.20

Sticheron of the 1st mode to ss Boris and Gleb (“John’s version”) from the menaion for July of the 12th century (rsao, f. 381, nr. 122, fol. 113).

Sticheron of the 1st mode to ss Boris and Gleb (“John’s version”) from the Menaion for July of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 582, fols. 256 v.-257).

3rd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Dimitrij from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 227v).

Яко звѣздѣ двѣ, мира просвѣщаета чудесныими блистании, страстотрьпца Господня Романе и Давыде, мракъ грѣховьныи отгоняяща тѣмь въспѣваемъ радостьно,

Яко един свѣт во двою телеси, мир просвѣщающе чюдесными блистанми, страстотръпци Господни,

похваляюще ваю память

похваляюще вашу память

Яко звѣзда пресвѣтлая, просвѣщаищи душа вѣрныхъ чюдесными сиянии, страстоносче Господень, благовѣрныи Димитрие, мракъ страстей иболезней нашихъ отгоняеши, здравие же всѣмъдаруеши, любезно цѣлующимъ многострадалныя твоя мощи, молитвенниче о душахъ нашихъ.

тѣм воспѣваем радостно,

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

183

table 8.21

2nd sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St Christine from the 2 Trefologion to Russian saints of the 16th century (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 619, fol. 157).

Кръст, яко оружие дрьжавно, Христино мученице, дрьжащи руками. вѣру, яко щитъ, надежду, яко броня, любовъ—лукъ, мучителеи томления побѣдила еси мужескыи, бѣсомъ коварьствия упразднила еси, Божественѣ, въ главу же усѣкновена бывши, ликуеши о Христе

непрестанно молящи о душахъ нашихъ.

1st sticheron of the 4th mode on “Praises” to St, Constantine of Murom from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 217v).

Кръстъ, яко оружие, дръжавно руками дръжащи, вѣру, яко щитъ, надежду, яко броня, любовь, я́ ко лукъ, въоружившеся (на прелесть мужески) научилъ еси поклонятися Единому Богу съ дръзновениемъ,

2nd sticheron of the 8th mode on lity from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 217v).

Новыи страдальче, свѣтлая мученикомъ доброто, царевиче Димитрие, яко оружие крестъ державно нося, вѣру яко щитъ, надежду яко броня, вооружився на прелесть,

в мирѣ глубоцѣ православныхъ житие утверди, и межеусобную брань укроти, молися, Констянтине, княже, и благовѣрнаго царя нашего [имярекъ] возвыси, падыи о душах нашихъ и вся полезная даруй всегда людемъ твоим молитвами твоими.

table 8.22

Sessional hymn of the 1st mode to St Christine from the Menaion for July of the beginning of the 17th century (rsl, f. 272, nr. 254, fol. 276).

Sessional hymn of the 4th mode to St. Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fols. 219–219 v.)

Кровь свою, чистая, якоже алавастръ мира,

Кровь твою, якоже алавастръ мира,

184

legkikh

table 8.22 (cont.)

Sessional hymn of the 1st mode to St Christine from the Menaion for July of the beginning of the 17th century (rsl, f. 272, nr. 254, fol. 276).

Sessional hymn of the 4th mode to St. Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fols. 219–219 v.)

принесла еси Христови, Жениху своему, любовь, мзду прияла еси от Него, досточюдна мученице, венецъ Божественныи нетлѣненъ,

Христови принеслъ еси, благовѣрныи царевичь Димитрие. Тѣмъ и Преблагии великии Дародатель Богъ прослави тя и возвыси чюдесы Своими благодатными, и сего ради память твою радостно почитаемъ, досточюдне

Тѣмъже исцѣлениемъ приятъ благодать силою духовною

table 8.23

3rd troparion of the 9th ode of the 1st canon to St Mammes 3-й from the Menaion for September of the 1505 (rsl, f. 304, p. 1, Nr. 466, fol. 38–38 v.)

2nd troparion of the 5th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitrij from the Old-print menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 222).

Яко имѣя дръзновение къ Богу, иже божественое твое сие тръжество радостно, мучениче, творящее, и честное и священное ти страдание вѣрою чистою хвалящая, поминаи прблажене, и бури и бѣдъ и напастеи ны спаси.

Имѣя къ Богу дерзновение, божественое твое торжество, мучениче, творящая и честное твое страдание вѣрою чистою хвалящихъ поминай, преблаженне, и от бури, и бѣдъ, и напастей спаси.

the creation of the legend: the pius prince dimitrij of uglich

185

table 8.24

2nd troparion of the 3rd ode canon to St Andrew Stratelates from the Menaion for August of the 16th century (rsl, f. 98, Nr. 120, fol. 140).

1st troparion of the 7th ode of the 1st canon to St Dimitrij from the Oldprint menaion for May of 1626 (rsl, f. iv, fol. 223v).

Съблазни лукаваго и того хитрости и превыше, яко побѣдитель изряденъ, мучениче, бывъ, прославися.

Соблазнъ лукаваго раба и того хитростей превыше, яко побѣдитель изряденъ, мучениче, бывъ, и прославися, зовый: Боже, благословенъ еси

Bibliography Primary Sources—Manuscripts Moscow Menaion for August of ‘the 16th century’—Russian State Library (rsl), f. 98, nr. 120 Menaion for August of ‘the 15th century’—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 586 Menaion for July of the beginning ‘of the 17th century’—rsl, f. 272, nr. 254 Menaion for July of ‘the 16th century’—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 582 Menaion for July of 1513—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 505 Menaion for July of ‘the 16th century’—rsl, f. 37, nr. 201 Menaion for July of ‘the 17th century’—rsl, f. 272, nr. 254 Menaion for July of ‘the 12th century’—Russian State Archiv of Old Acts (rsao), f. 381, nr. 122 Menaion for October of 1501—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 482 Menaion for September of 1505—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 466 Old-Print menaion for May of 1691—rsl, f. iv Old-Print menaion for May of 1626—rsl, f. iv. Menologium of ‘the 16th century’—rsl, f. 304, р. 1, nr. 364 Trefolog for Russian saints of ‘the 16th century’—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 619 Trefolog for Russian saints of ‘the 16th century’—rsl, f. 304, p. 1, nr. 624

Saint-Petersburg Menaion for July of ‘the 15th century’—Russian National Library (rnl), f. Solovetsky Monastery 1077/1186

186

legkikh

Vilnius Menaion for July of ‘the 16th century’—Lietuvos nacionalinė Martyno Mažvydo biblioteka (lmab), F. 19, nr. 170

Primary Sources—Editions [Bible] Novum Testamentum Graece. Ed. Erwin Nestle, Kurt and Barbara Aland, Johannes Karavidopoulos, Carlo M. Martini, Bruce M. Metzger. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgeschäft, 2012. [Bible] The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. esv Text Edition, 2016. (https://biblehu b.com/esv/; last accessed 30 October, 2019.) Bussov, Conrad. Chronicon Moscoviticum ab A. 1584 ad ann. 1613 (Moskovskaja hronika 1584–1613 / Московская хроника, 1584–1613). Мoscow/Leningrad, 1966 Fletcher, Giles. Of the Russian Commonwealth, 1591. Saint-Petersburg, 1905. Horsey, Jerom. Zapiski o Rossii. xvi—nachalo xvii v. (Записки о России. xvi—начало xvii в.). Ed. V.L. Janin, trans. A.A. Sevastianova. Moscow: Izdatel’stvo Moskovskogo gosudarstvennogo universiteta, 1990. Palitsin, Avraamij. Skazanie Avraamija Palitsyna (Сказание Авраамия Палицына). Ed. O.A. Derzhavina, E.V. Kolosova, A.B. Cherepnin. Мoscow/Leningrad: Akademija nauk sssr, Institut russkoj literatury (Pushkinskij dom), 1955. Referred to as Palitsin, Skazanie, [page number]. Μηναίον … περιέχον άπασαν την ανήκουσαν αυτώ Ακολουθίαν, μετά και της προσθήκης του τυπικού. Κατά την νεωστί διάταξιν της Αγίας του Χριστού Μεγάλης Εκκλησίας / διορθωθέν και ως ην δυνατόν εξακριβωθέν υπό Βαρθολομαίου Κουτλουμουσιανού του Ιμβρίου. Venice, 1863.

Secondary Literature Barsukov, N.P. (1882). Istochniki russkoj agiografii (Источники русской агиографии). Saint-Petersburg. Keller, F. (1973). ‘Das Kontakion aus der ersten služba für Boris und Gleb.’ In Schweizerische Beiträge zum vii Internationalen Slavistenkongreß in Warschau, August 1973, Bern. Slavica Helvetica 7. Luzern: C.J. Bucher. 65–74. Rothe, Hans (1985). ‘Kontakien auf russische Heilige im altrussischen Kondakar.’ Byzantine Studies/Etudes Byzantines 12: 333–341. Spasskij, F.G. (2008). Russkoe liturgicheskoe tvorchestvo (Русское литургическое творчество). Paris, 1951. Reprint: Moscow: Jazyki russkoj kultury, 2008. Preobrazhenskij, A.S., A.A. Turilov, B.N. Florja (2007). ‘Dimitrij Ioannivich’ (‘Димитрий Иоаннович’). In Pravoslavnaja enciklopedija. Vol. 15. Moscow: Cerkovno-nauchnyj centr “Pravoslavnaya enciklopediya”: 132–146.

9 Mousket and ‘Mesire Ernous’ The Portrayal of Arnold iv of Oudenaarde (*c.1175–† 1242) in Philip Mousket’s Chronique rimée (c.1240) as a Means for a Better Understanding of the Chronicler’s Position and Motives Robin Moens

Abstract In his rimed chronicle, Philip Mousket, burgher of the town of Tournai, depicted Arnold iv of Oudenaarde as a chivalrous warrior and a beloved defender of the social order, in short: a hero from the chansons de geste, whereas in other documents and chronicles he appears as a sly and powerful politician, but certainly not as a hero on the battlefield. This shows us how prudent one should be in using chronicles as a character judge. Even eminent historians such as Georges Duby fell for Mousket’s version of the story. Thus, Dembowski’s affirmation that Mousket ‘showed what was (really) happening in people’s minds’ needs some revision. That Mousket, a scion of an urban knightly family, was so favourable towards Arnold of Oudenaarde is due to the feudal links between his family and the Oudenaarde clan. Mousket clearly did not write for the French or Flemish court, but for his fellow citizens of Tournai, people who all needed to be in Oudenaarde’s good graces.

Around 1240 Philip Mousket, burgher of the town of Tournai, most probably started writing his Chronique rimée (Bibliothèque Nationale de France, ms Fr. 4963), a rimed chronicle treating the history of the French kings, the immediate overlords of his hometown of Tournai, a city under the French crown, surrounded by the Counties of Flanders and Hainault. The chronicle started with the legendary origin of the Frenchmen in Troy and continued till the first decades of the reign of Louis ix (1226–1270). Mousket mainly rephrased older narratives, but for the period 1213–1244, the one this article is concerned with, he sometimes recurred to his personal recollections and those of his friends.1 1 Dury (2010: 1125); Dembowski (1989: 93–94); Du Mortier (1844: 126–127); Le Clerc (1847: 700– 701); Nothomb (1925: 78–89); Rötting (1917: 5, 7, 11); Montbazet (2011: 7–9); Courroux (2016: 251–252).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_010

188

moens

One of the most prominent persons in this last but most extensive part of Mousket’s chronicle was Arnold iv, lord of Oudenaarde (c.1175–1242), who appeared no less than twelve times in Mousket’s verses.2 He was arguably dominant on the political scene in the twin counties of Flanders and Hainault and to a lesser extent in the whole French kingdom. This lord of Oudenaarde had a personal domain of 43 villages and some 41 more were held of him in fief, all of it delivering him an annual income of c.9000lb. par., more than several French Counts got out of their domains.3

1

‘Mesire Ernous’ in the Chronique rimée

‘Mesire Ernous’, as Mousket used to call him, appeared for the first time in the chronicle when, in February 1212, he headed the town militia of Ghent together with his neighbour Rasse vi or vii of Gavere. They opposed the recent marriage of Ferrand of Portugal with the heiress of Flanders and Hainault, a marriage that had taken place without consulting her vassals and townspeople. ‘Encontre lui moult se tint’ (‘they stood firm against him [i.e., Count Ferrand]’; v. 2032), is how Mousket described this episode, concluded by the peace of Wattripont, a town held by a vassal of Arnold of Oudenaarde, just outside of his lands: ‘ensi fu Ferrans quens’ (‘thus Ferrand became Count’; v. 20839), after which the Count ‘assés leur fu courtois et buens’ (‘was sufficiently courteous and good towards them’; v. 20840). The Flandria generosa chronicle offered a very different view and claimed (probably incorrectly) that these noblemen were motivated by hatred against the Dowager Countess Mathilde and the castellans John ii of Nesle (though a cousin of Arnold of Oudenaarde) and Siger of Ghent. The Flandria generosa concluded the episode not with a peace treaty, but with a ransom paid by the town of Ghent to the Flemish Count. Whereas the Count was rightly victorious in the Flandria generosa, Mousket’s chronicle stressed mainly the bravery of Arnold and Rasse and their defence of the traditional rights of the towns and nobility, as well as their role as ‘Kingmakers’ in the County.4

2 Philip Mousket, Historia Regum Francorum, 748 (v. 20831–20840), 761 (v. 22130–22147), 762 (v. 22217–22220), 764 (v. 22817–22822), 770 (v. 24659–24704), 772 (v. 24865–24904), 776 (v. 25215–25220), 794 (v. 27496–27500), 795 (v. 27789–27794), 799 (v. 28279–28289), 802 (v. 28649– 28660), 820 (v. 31125–31146). All English translations are mine. 3 Moens (2017: 140–147). 4 Luykx (1946: 99–101, 138); Vanbutsele (1986: 65–66); Flandria generosa, 331; Anonyme de Béthune, Extrait d’une chronique, 769; Le Glay (1841: 158); adn, B 1570, 47r.

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

189

Two years later, at the Battle of Bouvines (27 July 1214), ‘mesire Ernous’ appeared anew, this time as an outright war hero, though fighting with the Flemish Count against the French armies favoured by Mousket. ‘Ernous i fiert, Ernous i malle, / “Audenarde” crïe souvent’ (‘Arnold raged, Arnold slew, “Oudenaarde” he often cried’; v. 22138–22139), a description recalling the heroes of the Carolingian chansons de geste.5 Writing around 1220 for Robert vii of Béthune, a parent of Arnold of Oudenaarde, the Anonymous of Béthune painted a totally different picture: Arnold was a sly fighter who didn’t recoil from using a dagger, a very practical weapon, but not very noble.6 According to Mousket his hero was, of course, not truly opposing the French king: ‘Iernous en fu a tort blasmés; / Qu’en bien faisant i fu remés’ (‘Arnold was falsely accused of it, [but] doing good he was acquitted’; v. 22141–22142). In fact, ‘Ernous d’Audenarde esranment / fu ostagiés delivrement, / car il n’ot mïe la menlee / atissïe ne embrasee’ (‘Arnold of Oudenaarde was immediately liberated from hostage because he had never encouraged the dispute, nor provoked or embraced it’; v. 22217–22220). Here Mousket was following the Anonymous of Saint-Quentin (writing before 1223 for the French king), who also claimed Arnold’s innocence. Probably an excuse had to be found for Arnold’s good relationships with the French crown from 1214 onwards.7 The Anonymous of Béthune (close to the Oudenaarde family) gave a completely different version: his family ties with powerful people at the French court got him out of custody.8 In 1219, Arnold of Oudenaarde reappeared in Mousket’s chronicle. In that year he accompanied his cousin John of Béthune, Bishop of Cambrai (1200– 1219), ‘qui fu preudom et de cuer vrai’ (‘who was a gentleman and had a true heart’; v. 22818). During their journey to Southern France, intending to join the Albigensian Crusade, John died on July 27, 1219. In this context not much is said about the lord of Oudenaarde, only that ‘Ernous d’Audenarde o lui fu’ (‘Arnold of Oudenaarde was with him’; v. 22822): a rather unnecessary affirmation, only serviceable to link this nobleman once again with the good reputation of his parent, the late bishop. We encounter Arnold again some six years later, in March 1225. In that month a hermit appeared in the surroundings of the town of Tournai and claimed to

5 Cf. Pseudo-Turpin, An Anonymous Old French Translation, 63. De Buttet (1974: 119). 6 Anonyme de Béthune, Extrait d’une chronique, 769. Cf. Duby (1988: 199). 7 Anonyme de Saint-Quentin, Fragment de l’Histoire de Philippe-Auguste, 115–117; Rötting (1917: 26–38). 8 Duby (1988: 200); Anonyme de Béthune, Extrait d’une chronique, 769; Luykx (1946: 138).

190

moens

figure 9.1 The Lands of Oudenaarde c.1250. Thick line: borders of the Counties of Flanders and Hainault c.1250. Thin line: border between presentday Belgium and France 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Bruges Ghent Antwerp Courtrai Aalst

6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

Tournai Oudenaarde Flobecq Ronse Ellezelles

11. 12. 13. 14.

Lessines Brussels Lille Mons

be the deceased Count Baldwin ix (1194–c.1205), thereby contesting the rule of ‘his’ daughter Joan over Flanders and Hainault. Countess Joan chose Arnold iv of Oudenaarde as her emissary to this ‘False Baldwin’: ‘Ernous d’Audenarde estoit la; / viers la contesse l’a tramis, / Quar il estoit moult ses amis’ (‘Arnold of Oudenaarde was there, whereto the Countess had sent him because he was very much her friend’; v. 24662–24664). But the hermit, knowing that the lord of Oudenaarde had known the former Count, pretended to be too ill to receive him, ‘et mesire Ernous l’a crëu’ (‘and my lord Arnold believed it’; v. 24666). After some time Arnold understood the deception: ‘Mon signour Ernoul anoia, / qui fu decius, sel renoia’. (‘My lord Arnold suffered from being deceived because he had denied [that the hermit was an imposter]’; v. 24701–24702). This scene was

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

191

repeated by Baldwin of Avesnes.9 Mousket again stressed the important position of Arnold of Oudenaarde, who had (recently) become the grand bailiff of Countess Joan. Still, his apparent familiarity with the countess (‘il estoit moult ses amis’; v. 24664), repeated by Albert of Stade (c.1187–c.1260) is more than questionable in the light of the tensions between their families and of later events.10 Countess Joan would have been abandoned in favour of the false count ‘se ne fust Ernous d’Audenarde, / ki sa dame avoit prise en garde’ (‘if there would not have been Arnold of Oudenaarde, who had guarded his lady’; v. 24869– 24870). More noblemen had remained faithful, as Mousket himself admitted, ‘mais avant tous, par saint Marciel, / Ernous, qui garni son castiel / Flosbierc come hardis et preus, / li valu miols, et ce vot Dieus’ (‘but above all, by St Marcel, Arnold who guarded his castle Flobecq fiercely and boldly, which was worth a lot to her, as it pleased God’; v. 24889–24892). It was the same heroic Arnold who accompanied the countess when she went asking the French king Louis viii (1223–1226) for help (v. 24901–24902). ‘Mesire Ernous’ seemed to have been the stronghold of Countess Joan in this period: as a knightly hero, protecting his lady, described with words reminiscent of the poems of Maurice of Craon and Uc of Saint-Circ.11 Arnold continued acting valiantly, at least according to Mousket. In June 1225 he joined the siege of Valenciennes, a city that had remained faithful to the False Baldwin: ‘Puis avint que par aatine, / par leur outrage et par corine, / s’en ala d’Audenarde Ernous / et ses couzins avec, Radous, / pour la contesse, ki lor proie, / et fisent aquellir leur proie’ (‘Then it happened, by fierceness, by their outrage, and by courage, that Arnold of Oudenaarde and his cousin [Everard iv] Raoul, went [thereto] for the Countess, who prayed them [to do it], and they went to collect their prey’; v. 25215–25220). Arnold and his cousin Everard Raoul of Tournai appeared together as a kind of Rolland and Olivier. Describing this siege Mousket only paid attention to the courage and ferociousness of the ‘heroes’ besieging the town. Two years later, in January 1227, Arnold accompanied Countess Joan on her trip to Paris to pledge allegiance to the new French king Louis ix (1226–1270) and finally free her husband, Count Ferrand (imprisoned since 1214): ‘La con-

9 10 11

Balduinus Avennensis, Chronicon Hanoniense, 455; Luykx (1946: 229). Albertus Stadensis, Annales Stadenses, 358 (‘cui comitissa dicebatur familiaritatem nimeam exhibere’). Cf. Luykx (1946: 151–157, 256, 548–549); Le Glay (1841: 164–171). Cf. Pseudo-Turpin, An Anonymous Old French Translation, 63 (xxiii, 24); Luykx (1946: 213– 214); Balduinus Ninovensis, Chronicon, 541; Dragonetti (1960: 40); Uc de Saint-Circ, Poésies, xxi.

192

moens

tesse Jehane iert la / de Flandres, ki l’assëura, / et apriès Ernous d’Audenarde, / et mesire Rasses de Gavre, / qui porterent et mars et livres, / dont Ferrans diut estre delivres’ (‘the Countess was there, of Flanders, who promised him [i.e., Louis ix] faithfulness, and after her Arnold of Oudenaarde, and my lord Rasse of Gavre, who carried marks and pounds, wherewith Ferrand had to be freed’; v. 27496–27500). Thus, Count Ferrand was liberated by the two heads of the opposition against him in 1212. Mousket underscored that the two noblemen delivered the ransom and not the countess, who was almost bankrupt herself.12 This liberation had a rather unpleasant consequence for Arnold iv. Count Ferrand wanted to take the reins back in his hands and immediately cancelled all ordinances issued by his wife, ‘par quoi li sires d’Audenarde, / fu moult häis, qui l’ot en garde’ (‘whereby the lord of Oudenaarde was much hated, who had taken her [i.e., the countess] under his wing’; v. 27793–27794). As grand bailiff Arnold had guaranteed the validity of the countess’s law. This episode can only be found in Mousket and served perhaps merely to strengthen the contrast between the ‘evil’ Count Ferrand and the heroic but suffering lord of Oudenaarde. Every possible irritation of the count with Arnold of Oudenaarde must have been short-lived as, in April 1227, Count Ferrand already realised that he had to compensate Arnold’s services and buy his friendship by offering him five towns in the north of Hainault.13 After five years of rest, Arnold resurfaced in June 1234 to join the crusade against the Stedinger, a group of farmers and townspeople from the environment of Bremen who violently opposed their archbishop, resulting in a crusade that came to this prelate’s aid. Mousket mainly focussed on its two Flemish heroes: Arnold i of Gavere, lord of Mater, and his neighbour, the well-known Arnold iv of Oudenaarde: ‘d’autre part Ernous d’Audenarde / d’aus a tüer pas ne se tarde’ (‘on the other hand Arnold of Oudenaarde, who did not hesitate to kill [many] of them [i.e., the Stedinger]’; v. 28287–28288). Again Mousket clearly sympathised with the chivalric heroes of Gavere and Oudenaarde, though they had become quite aged. The valiant Arnold of Oudenaarde, who killed the ‘heathen’ like the crusaders in Pseudo-Turpin’s chronicle, was a small man of almost sixty years of age. His valour must have waned already a bit by that time.14

12 13 14

Warnkoenig (1846: 332–333); Luykx (1946: 256–260); Wauters (1874: 17, 25); Layettes du Trésor des Chartes, 103, 108–109; Le Glay (1841: 170–171). Le Glay (1841: 175–177); adn, B 1570, 38r, 39v. Luykx (1946: 335–336); Pseudo-Turpin, An Anonymous Old French Translation, 46 (vi, 53).

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

193

Exactly a year later Arnold iv was present at the German court as ambassador to the countess of Flanders and Hainault on the occasion of the wedding of Emperor Frederick ii (1194–1250) with Isabelle of England (1214–1241), on June 15, 1235 in Worms: ‘et s’i fu Ernous d’Audenarde, / que l’emperere moult regarde, / qu’il en avoit oï parler’ (‘and there was Arnold of Oudenaarde, whom the emperor esteemed much because he had heard [a lot] about him’; v. 28655– 28657). Mousket was the only chronicler relating Arnold’s presence, he certainly didn’t impress the German writers as much as their emperor (according to Mousket, at least). The last and longest mention of the lord of Oudenaarde is to be found at the end of Mousket’s tale and concerns the death and majestic funeral of this nobleman: En ceste ost, Dieux ait l’arme en garde Moru mese Iernous d’Audenarde, Ki partout faisoit boine ciere Et moult estoit boins justiciere. Par proaice et par grant savoir Viunt de petit en grant avoir. Duel en ot li rois et besoing, … A Ehem se fist apporter Pour sa tiere reconforter. Quite fu la cars et li os, Par verté dire le vos os. Aportés fu trop ricement Et enfouois moult noblement. Ses cevaus i fu, tous couviers De ses armes, moult biel offiers; Et uns vallès sist sus armés, De ses armes tous acesmés, S’i ot clers, dames, cevaliers, Tant que tous plains fu li mostiers. Philip Mousket, Chronique rimée, v. 31125–31140

That August God had the weapon at the ready, [then] died my lord Arnold of Oudenaarde, who made everywhere a good impression and was a very good justice, by his courage and his great knowledge he obtained, from a small, a big property. Twice the king needed him, … To Ename he was carried to comfort his lands, deposed were the flesh and bones, truly, one

194

moens

should say ‘your’ bones. He was most richly brought there and most nobly buried. His horses were there, all covered by his arms, most beautifully displayed; and a valet there was, fully armed with his arms all arrayed; there were clerics, ladies, knights, so much that the whole monastery was filled. This fragment is probably one of the most sophisticated of Mousket’s chronicle, with no less than three word games in the first verse.15 Ost may refer to the month of ‘August’, but also to a ‘campaign’; arme is both a ‘weapon’ and a ‘soul’, and avoir en garde may mean ‘having at the ready’ or ‘taking under his care’. It could thus mean: ‘in that campaign God had the weapon at the ready’ as well as ‘that August God took the soul under his care’. After this rather elaborate verse Philip Mousket once again summed up the virtues of Arnold of Oudenaarde: he was courteous, righteous, courageous, intelligent and industrious; twice he came to the aid of the French monarch (in suppressing the Baron’s Uprising in 1229–1230, and in realising the Treaty of Péronne in 1237).16 Mousket gave a strange turn to his chronicle: one of the most remarkable traits of the lord of Oudenaarde’s character was indeed his industriousness in gathering riches, an attitude that Mousket generally criticised in his chronicle (for example v. 27, ‘mauvais devient li rice’, or v. 40, ‘car avarisse les traïne’). Apparently an exception was made for Arnold of Oudenaarde. Mousket depicted Arnold iv Oudenaarde as a chivalrous warrior and a beloved defender of the social order, in short: a hero from the chansons de geste, whereas in other documents and chronicles he appears as a sly and powerful politician, but certainly not as a hero on the battlefield. Mousket’s image lived forth till our days and even eminent historians such as Georges Duby fell for Mousket’s version of the story.17

2

Mousket and ‘Mesire Ernous’

Why then was this townsman so positive about Arnold iv of Oudenaarde? Dembowski’s view was quite clear: ‘he was a good mirror of his milieu’, and his

15 16

17

Cf. Courroux (2016: 260–261). Cahour (1850: 264); Cartulaire de l’abbaye d’Eename, 175–176; Luykx (1946: 358); Warnkoenig (1846: 335); Smets (1908: 201); Le polyptique illustré, xxxviii; Layettes du Trésor des Chartes, 178. Duby (1988: 199); Anonyme de Béthune, Extrait d’une chronique, 769.

195

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

figure 9.2 The Tournai of Mousket and ‘mesire Ernous’. Black line: parts of the town linked to Philip Mousket. Grey line: parts of the town linked to Arnold of Oudenaarde 1. 2. 3. 4.

the Scheldt River the castellan’s town the castle Saint-Brice

5. 6. 7.

Tournai proper Saint-Piat Saint-Jean-des-Chauffours

source: jacob van deventer, tournai (c.1545)

chronicle showed ‘what was (really) happening in people’s minds’.18 The reality seemed to have been less simple. Certainly, Mousket can show us something about the way of thought of the upper class of Tournai (if such a group has ever existed), but it is rather simplistic to consider him only the voice of the public opinion. Mousket’s biography is most likely to shed light on his motivations. In 1844 du Mortier demonstrated that the chronicler was not Philip Mus of Ghent, 18

Dembowski (1989: 103, 106–108, especially 106 ‘he was a good mirror of his milieu’, and 108 ‘what was (really) happening in people’s minds’).

196

moens

bishop of Tournai (1275–†1282), as had been thought for a long time, but a member of the Mousket family, burghers of Tournai. His chronicle was very French-minded, speaking about ‘nos, François’ (v. 21431), because in 1187 his hometown of Tournai had chosen to be immediately subject to the French king.19 Based on the beginning of his Chronique rimée, where Mousket claimed to have consulted chronicles from the abbey of Saint-Denis (‘En l’abeïe Saint Denise / de France, u j’ai l’estore prise / et del Latin mise en Roumans’; v. 9– 11), several historians have suggested that Mousket had been employed at the French court, an affirmation most vehemently contested by Rötting and Walpole.20 Indeed, Philip’s poetic qualities were rather limited: he was a compilator of older texts and composed rimed verses, but was not a real poet. More recent researchers, therefore, assume that the townspeople of Tournai were the most plausible audience for Philip’s chronicle, which would explain the French sympathies, but also a certain ‘tournaisien’ chauvinism (v. 21119, etc). He was some kind of town moralist, preaching a life of virtue and respect for the existing social order (v. 19–41, 24775–24776, etc.). Mousket himself claimed to have written his Chronqiue rimée to help his contemporaries remember the heroic deeds of the past, ‘car avarisse les träine, / et amours ki devient häine’ (‘because [nowadays] greed is dragging them onwards, as well as love that becomes hatred’; v. 40–41). Walpole’s assumption that Philip Mousket wrote for the nobility of the county of Hainault and based his text on works in the Count’s library is less probable: Mousket certainly did not sympathise with Count Ferrand (1212–1233, cf. v. 22289–22294, etc.).21 This burgher of Tournai, writing for his townsmen, must have been one of the four sons of lady Julienne, mentioned in 1223. She was most probably the widow of Gerard Mousket, castellan of the lord of Avesnes-Leuze in 1216 for his manor Saint-Jean-des-Chaufours on the right bank of the Scheldt at Tournai. Philip was a brother of Thierry (1223), lord John (1228–d. before 1265, ‘mayor’ (a kind of bailiff) of Saint-Brice and alderman of the same town, as well as of the town of Tournai) and Gilles ‘the hog farmer’ (1225–d. before 1261). Philip himself appeared in 1236 or 1237 as proprietor of three rents in Saint-Brice, inherited from the knight Gilbert, lord of Maulde (d. before 1217), which implies that

19 20 21

Du Mortier (1844: 119–120); Dembowski (1989: 108); Bozière (1864: 30); Chotin (1840: 234, 237); Courroux (2016: 249, 259). Le Clerc (1847: 700–701); Pirenne (1899: 331); Jaques (1949: 247); Walpole (1979: 8); Rötting (1917: 16–17); Courroux (2016: 268–269). Walpole (1979: 8); Dembowski (1989: 94, 103, 106); Rötting (1917: 13–15); Jaques (1949: 254).

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

197

Mousket had married one of the six children of the said Gilbert.22 The Mousket family, it appears, lived mainly on the right bank of the Scheldt, a part of town that was divided into numerous politically independent sections. Their dwelling place was in Saint-Brice, also called ‘Le Bourg’, since 1202, a part of the French town of Tournai. The other areas where they were active, equally on the right bank, were not so. Saint-Nicolas-au-Bruille or ‘Le Château’ was a Flemish fief of the castellan of Tournai and Saint-Jean-des-Chaufours or ‘La Ville’ was a fief held by the lord of Avesnes-Leuze from the Count of Hainault.23 Philip Mousket’s family belonged to the non-noble knighthood and stood in the service of the Avesnes family, Arnold iv of Oudenaarde’s family-inlaw. Mousket himself was the son-in-law of Gilbert of Maulde, a vassal of the lord of Oudenaarde. Moreover, Arnold iv was almost a neighbour of Mousket, having a townhouse in the parish of Saint-Piat and being a parent of the castellan of the same town. From 1226 to 1231/1237 he even acted as guardian of his young cousin Arnold of Mortagne, castellan of Tournai, and thus controlled the castle of this city. The lord of Oudenaarde did not only control the town from a military point of view but also economically: he ‘owned’ the Scheldt between Ghent and Tournai and could levy taxes on almost everything that entered or left the town.24 It was vital for Mousket to be in his good graces. These conclusions collide (to a certain extent) with Spiegel’s remarks on the works of the Anonymous of Béthune. She assumed that his two chronicles (a French and an Anglo-Norman) were an expression of the ‘weakness’ of the Flemish nobility when confronted with the great powers of their age and of their tentative to redefine their position as small fish in the game between these two players. The chronicle of Mousket showed rather the strength of this nobility, especially of Arnold iv of Oudenaarde, together with his Béthune cousin, without a doubt the most important nobleman of the region. At the beginning of the thirteenth century they were finally free from a very domin22

23 24

Du Mortier (1844: 124–126, 136–140; 1845: 47–48); De Reiffenberg (1845: 10–11); Bozière (1864: 30); Chotin (1840: 234); Croquet (1926: 8); Montbazet (2011: 22–23); Courroux (2016: 249–251). Du Mortier (1844: 119–120); Dembowski (1989: 108); Bozière (1864: 30); Chotin (1840: 234, 237). Du Mortier (1844: 124–126, 136–140; 1845: 47–48); Chartes de l’abbaye de St.-Martin, 64–65; adn, B1570, 31r; agr, Akten van de graven van Vlaanderen (001/4), 48; aem, Chartrier de la Trésorerie des comtes de Hainault, 76; Le polyptique illustré, 12v; Cartulaire de l’abbaye d’Eename, 138–139; Layettes du Trésor des Chartes, 357–360; Warlop (1976: 1152–1165); acct, A 45; Montbazet (2011: 22).

198

moens

ant dynasty (the Alsatian Counts) and thus unhindered to come to the front of the international scene. That they appeared now in chronicles or even commanded them (as did the lord of Béthune) seems to confirm this increased prestige.25 Philip’s portrayal of Arnold of Oudenaarde, finally, helps us also to get a better idea of his audience and scope. Philip certainly was no count’s poet: in his chronicle he favoured the lord of Oudenaarde more than the Flemish count. Neither would he have written for the French court, certainly sympathetic to Arnold iv of Oudenaarde in the 1240s, but even more to his wife, Alice of Rozoy, a great friend of the French Queen Mother Blanche of Castille and a regular guest at court. Nonetheless, Mousket never mentions her: his ties with Arnold of Oudenaarde were certainly stronger, because his father-in-law had been Arnold’s vassal, and thus maybe also Mousket himself as one of his heirs.26

3

Conclusion

In his chronicle Philip Mousket, burgher of the town of Tournai, offered a very positive image of the Flemish nobleman Arnold iv of Oudenaarde and portrayed him especially as a chivalrous warrior and a beloved defender of the social order, in short: a hero from the chansons de geste. On the other hand, other documents and chronicles showed that he was above all a sly and powerful politician, but not so great a fighter at all. This shows how prudent one should be in using chronicles as a character judge—in this case even eminent historians such as Georges Duby fell for Mousket’s version of the story. Dembowski’s affirmation that Mousket ‘showed what was (really) happening in people’s minds’ needs some revision.27 That Mousket, a scion of an urban knightly family, was so favourable towards Arnold of Oudenaarde is due to the feudal links between his family and the Oudenaarde clan. All of this shows clearly that Mousket did not write for the French or Flemish court but for his fellow citizens of Tournai, people who all needed to be in Oudenaarde’s good graces.

25 26 27

Moens (2020: 701–722; 2022: 316–317); Spiegel (1993: 235–236; 1999: 395–404). Walpole (1979: 8); Le Clerc (1847: 700–701); Pirenne (1899: 331); Jaques (1949: 247); Sleiderink (2009: 181); ahl, Chartarium, nr. 28 en 31; Martin (1863: 406). Dembowski (1989: 108).

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

199

Bibliography Primary Sources—Manuscripts Ghent Rijksarchief (rag), Akten van de graven van Vlaanderen (001/4)

Lessines Archives de l’Hôpital Notre-Dame à la Rose (ahl), Chartaire

Lille Archives départementales du Nord (adn), B 1570

Mons Archives de l’État (aem), Chartrier de la Trésorerie des comtes de Hainaut, 76

Tournai Archives du Chapitre Cathédral (acct), A 45

Primary Sources—Editions Albertus Stadensis. Annales Stadenses. Ed. J.M. Lappenberg. In mgh, ss 16. Ed. G.H. Pertz. Hannover: Hahn, 1859. 271–379. Anonyme de Béthune. Extrait d’une chronique française des rois de France. Ed. L. Delisle. In Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France. Vol. 24.2. Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1904. 750–775. Anonyme de Saint-Quentin. Fragment de l’Histoire de Philippe-Auguste, roy de France, Chronique en français des années, 1214–1216. In Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes 87. Ed. C. Petit-Dutaillis. Paris: Librairie Droz, 1926. 98–141. Balduinus Avennensis. Chronicon Hanoniense. Ed. J. Heller. In mgh, ss 25. Ed. G. Waitz. Hannover: Hahn, 1880. 414–467. Balduinus Ninovensis. Chronicon. Ed. O. Holder-Egger. In mgh, ss 25. Ed. G. Waitz. Hannover: Hahn, 1880. 515–556. Cartulaire de l’abbaye d’Eename. Ed. C. Piot. Bruges: de Zuttere-van Kersschaver, 1881. Chartes de l’abbaye de St.-Martin. Vol. 2. Ed. A. d’Herbomez. Brussels: Kiessling, 1901. Flandria generosa usque ad annum 1164. Continuatio Claromariscensis. Ed. L.C. Bethmann. In mgh, ss 9. Ed. G.H. Pertz. Hannover: Hahn, 1851. 326–334. Jacob van Deventer. Tournai. In Jacob van Deventer. Atlas des villes de la Belgique au xvi siècle. Ed. Biblioteca Digital Hispánica (http://www.bne.es). Madrid, 2021 (last accessed 14–03–2023). Layettes du Trésor des Chartes. Inventaires et documents publiés par ordre de l’empereur sous la direction de M. le comte de Laborde. Vol 1. Ed. A. Teulet. Paris: Henri Plon, 1863.

200

moens

Le polyptique illustré dit ‘Veil Rentier’ de messire Jehan de Pamele-Audenarde (vers 1275). Ed. L. Verriest. Brussels: Léo Verriest, 1950. Philip Mousket Historia Regum Francorum. Ed A. Tobler. In mgh, ss 26. Ed. G. Waitz. Hannover: Hahn, 1882. 718–821. Pseudo-Turpin. An Anonymous Old French Translation of the Pseudo-Turpin Chronicle. A Critical Edition of the Text Contained in bn mss fr. 2137 and 17203 and Incorporated by P. Mouskés in his Chronique rimée. Ed. R.N. Walpole. Medieval Academy Books 89. Cambridge, MA: Mediaeval Academy of America, 1979. Uc de Saint-Circ. Poésies. Ed. A. Jeanroy and J.-J. Salverda de Grave. Toulouse: Edouard Privat, 1913.

Secondary Literature Bozière, A.-F.-J. (1864). Tournai Ancien et Moderne, ou Description historique et pittoresque de cette ville, de ses monuments, de ses institutions, depuis son origine jusqu’à nos jours. Tournai: Adolphe Delmée. Cahour, A. (1850). Baudouin de Constantinople, Chronique de Belgique et de France en 1225. Tournai: Poussielgue-Rusand. Chotin, A.G. (1840). Histoire de Tournai et du Tournésis, Depuis les temps les plus reculés jusqu’à nos jours. Vol. 1. Tournai: Massart et Janssens. Courroux, P. (2016). L’Écriture de l’histoire dans les chroniques françaises (xiie–xve siècle). Histoire culturelle 1. Paris: Classiques Garnier. Croquet, J.-B.J. (1926). Histoire de Maulde (Hainaut). Tourcoing: Société d’Etudes de la province de Cambrai. De Buttet, H. (1974). ‘Le Cri d’Armes.’ Mémoires de la Fédération des Sociétés d’Histoire et d’Archéologie de l’Aisne 20: 118–129. De Reiffenberg, F.A.F. (1845). Chronique rimée de Philippe Mouskes ou Mouskés, Supplément. Brussels: M. Hayez. Dembowski, P.F. (1989). ‘Philippe Mousket and his Chronique rimée seven and half centuries ago: a chapter in the literary history.’ In Contemporary Readings of Medieval Literature. Ed. G. Mermier and A. Arbor. Michigan Romance Studies 8. Paris: Nizet. 93–113. Dragonetti, R. (1960). La technique poétique des trouvères dans la chanson courtoise. Contribution à l’étude de la rhétorique médiévale. Bruges: De Tempel. Du Mortier, B.C. (1844). ‘Sur Philippe Mouskés, Auteur du poème roman des Rois de France.’ Bulletin de la Commission Royal d’Histoire 9: 112–145. Du Mortier, B.C. (1845). ‘Supplément à la notice sur Philippe Mouskés.’ Bulletin de la Commission Royal d’Histoire 10: 46–48. Duby, G. (1988). De zondag van Bouvines. 27 juli 1214: de oorlog in de middeleeuwen. Amsterdam: Agon. Dury, C. (2010). ‘Mousquet, Philippe.’ In emc. 11–25.

mousket and ‘mesire ernous’

201

Jaques, J.W. (1949). ‘The “faux Baudouin” episode in the Chronique rimée of Philippe Mousket.’ French Studies 3: 245–255. Le Clerc, V. (1847). Histoire Littéraire de la France. Vol 21. Paris: Imprimerie nationale. Le Glay, E. (1841). Histoire de Jeanne de Constantinople, comtesse de Flandre et de Hainaut. Lille: Vanackere. Luykx, T. (1946). Johanna van Constantinopel, gravin van Vlaanderen en Henegouwen. Antwerp/Utrecht: Standaard-Boekhandel and W. De Haan. Martin, G.-A. (1863). Essai historique sur Rozoy-sur-Serre et les environs, Comprenant une grande partie de la Thiérache et du Porcien et quelques communes du Laonnois. Vol. 1. Laon: Ed. Fleury. Moens, R. (2017). Aan elkaar gewaagd. Biografie van Arnulf iv van Oudenaarde en Alice van Rozoy (ca. 1175–1275). In Verhandelingen van de Geschied- en Oudheidkundige Kring van Oudenaarde, van zijn Kastelnij en van den Lande tusschen Maercke en Ronne. Vol. 1. Ed. P. Trio. Oudenaarde: Geschied- en Oudheidkundige Kring van Oudenaarde. Moens, R. (2020). ‘Bouvines: victoire du roi ou victoire du Roye? Les luttes de factions à la cour de France dans le premier quart du xiiie siècle.’ Revue du Nord 101 (4): 701– 722. Moens, R. (2022). ‘Imiter le prince? La cour du seigneur d’Audenarde (xiie et xiiie siècle).’ Actes du 52e Congrès de la shmesp, «Modèles, réseaux et échanges curiaux au Moyen Âge», 20–23 mai 2021, Bruxelles (Belgique). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne. 307–320. Montbazet, T. (2011). ‘La Chronique de Philippe Mousket.’ Unpublished ma-thesis. Université Paris-iv Sorbonne. Published online at Memoire online: https://www​ .memoireonline.com/08/13/7284/La‑chronique‑de‑Philippe‑Mousket.html (last accessed 14–03–2023). Nothomb, J. (1925). ‘La date de la Chronique rimée de Philippe Mousket.’ Revue Belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 4: 77–89. Pirenne, H. (1899). ‘Mousket (Philippe).’ Biographie Nationale 15: 329–332. Rötting, F. (1917). Quellenkritische Untersuchung der Chronique rimée des Philippe Mousket für die Jahre 1190–1217. Weimar: Wagner Sohn. Sleiderink, R. (2009). ‘La dame d’Audenarde comme juge d’amour. Le rapport intertextuel entre “Li Romans du Vergier et de l’Arbre d’Amors” et une chanson de Gillebert de Berneville.’ In Lors est ce jour grant joie nee. Essais de langue et de littérature françaises du Moyen Âge. Ed. M. Goyens and W. Verbeke. Leuven: Leuven up. 177– 190. Smets, G. (1908). Henri i, duc de Brabant, 1190–1235. Brussels: H. Lamertin. Spiegel, G.M. (1993). Romancing the Past. The Rise of Vernacular Prose Historiography in Thirteenth-Century France. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press.

202

moens

Spiegel, G.M. (1999). ‘Les débuts français de l’historiographie royale: quelques aspects inattendus.’ In Saint-Denis et la royauté. Études offertes à Bernard Guenée. Ed. F. Autrand, C. Gauvard and J.-J. Moeglin. Paris: Éditions de la Sorbonne. 395– 404. Vanbutsele, P. (1986). ‘Arnulf iv van Oudenaarde, eerste baron van Pamele.’ Handelingen van de Geschied- en Oudheidkundige kring van Oudenaarde 23: 59–85. Walpole, R.N. (1979). ‘Introduction.’ See Pseudo-Turpin. An Anonymous Old French Translation. Warlop, E. (1976). The Flemish nobility before 1300. Vol. ii.2. Courtrai: G. Desmet-Huysman. Warnkoenig, L.A. (1846). Histoire constitutionnelle et administrative de la ville de Gand et de la châtellenie du Vieux-Bourg, jusqu’à l’année 1305. Trans. A.E. Gheldolf. Brussels: A. Vandale. Wauters, A. (1874). Table chronologique des chartes et diplômes imprimés concernant l’histoire de Belgique. Vol. iv. Brussels: M. Hayez.

10 Female Indoctrination through the Image: The Case of Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (Ms. A 1, Academia das Ciências de Lisboa) María Pandiello

Abstract Manuscript 1 Azul of the Academia das Ciências de Lisboa—which contains a Portuguese copy of the Crónica Geral de Espanha of 1344—has traditionally been dated to the first decades of the fifteenth century. The pictorial programme in what is also known as manuscript L reflects the turbulent political circumstances of the time. This article will focus on a group of miniatures depicting the role of women in fifteenthcentury Portuguese political circles, a sensitive subject in the years spanning the codex’s production, as we will see. Our analysis will allow us to draw a series of conclusions regarding the commissioner of the manuscript and his intentions as the ideologist behind the iconographic programme contained in L. In order to do so it will be necessary to understand the coexistence of text and image within the space of the manuscript.

1

Introduction

This study analyses the dialogue between image and text in the manuscript A 1 of the Academia das Ciências de Lisboa (ms L), which contains a version of the Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344. The codex will be studied in its holistic dimension with special emphasis on the political circumstances that intervened in the production of the manuscript; circumstances that are reflected, more or less explicitly, in a series of miniatures depicting women in moments of great political responsibility. Only by understanding the ethical-ideological discourse intrinsic to manuscript L and the dialogue it holds with the events of the time can we shed some light of the identity of the supposed commissioner and ideologue who financed the creation of the codex. The manuscript of the Academia das Ciências de Lisboa is a sizeable object (440×310mm) consisting of 322 parchment folios in 33 quires. It contains a fifteenth-century Portuguese version of the Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344,

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_011

204

pandiello

originally written by Conde Pedro de Barcelos around 1344, who, in turn, used as his main source the Estoria de Espanna (‘History of Spain’) of Afonso x ‘El Sabio’. One of the most striking peculiarities of the Academia das Ciências copy lies in its grandiloquent programme of illustrations ‘without parallel in the Iberian Peninsula’.1 Indeed, a superficial glance at these miniatures immediately reveals their artistic uniqueness as well as their underlying iconographic complexity. L’s visual programme is configured as a gallery through which a series of historical figures, absorbed in moments of great political tension, are visible. Despite the apparent variety and disparity of pictorial styles, L’s iconographic programme presents an ideology of exceptional discursive coherence which, as will be seen in the following pages, maintains a certain independence with respect to the textual discourse. While the Academia das Ciências manuscript is well known among researchers of medieval Iberian historiography, related studies in the field of art history have been rather scarce, mainly due to the lack of documentation relating to L and, to a lesser degree, to issues relating to access to the codex, which is not digitised. Furthermore, the codex has been studied from both philological and art history related perspectives without collaboration between these two disciplines, with the result that text and image have been dissociated, leaving us with a partial, fragmented vision of L rather than a holistic perspective which takes into account both experiences: the pictorial and the textual. These two channels, and their dialogues within the manuscript, will be analysed here in an effort to demonstrate that the relationships between text and image are far more complex than a mere illustrative exercise. Moreover, such complexity could provide us with information regarding the codex, for which documentation that clarifies details regarding the commissioner, the recipient and the circumstances under which the codex was created, is lacking. The Academia das Ciências copy is not merely a lavishly illustrated artefact, but also one that offers a window on fifteenth-century ethical norms in the Portuguese court. On examination of the manuscript we quickly recognise both the epideictic use of images as well as the proliferation of female figures throughout the visual programme. In short, L bears close relation to its own historical background and will therefore be analysed here as a witness to its time, with special attention paid to its quality as a political vehicle. A recreation of the political scenario surrounding the manuscript will therefore be essential in terms of understanding the identity of this copy. 1 Cintra (2009: i, cdxcviii).

female indoctrination through the image

205

While the identity of L’s patron is at present unknown, there is consensus in attributing it royal provenance, some researchers having associated the codex with the figure of our study, however, will lead us to other conclusions.

2

Manuscript L

In the 1950s a young philologist named Lindley Cintra completed a herculean edition of the manuscript that now resides at the Academia das Ciências, thereby continuing the studies undertaken by Ramón Menéndez Pidal.2 The result was three volumes, to which a preliminary study of the manuscript and its textual tradition was added.3 This volume remains a compulsory reference for anyone seeking initiation in the Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 and its genealogy. In his introductory volume Cintra established two principal textual families for L.4 The first of these came from the Conde Pedro de Barcelos copy,5 a lost manuscript that Cintra referred to as *Y and that would have been composed around 1344. In this genealogy Cintra identified two Castilian copies. According to the philologist three Castilian versions and three Portuguese variants (including L) would arise from the second (more prolific) genealogy (*Z). From the 1950s to the present day, however, this stemma, originally designed by Cintra, has acquired new ramifications thanks to the work of a number of philologists who were responsible for the discovery of new copies. While it is not the purpose of this article to describe the textual genealogies in detail, it is worth emphasising that, by combining the two genealogies described by Cintra, we obtain a corpus of more than ten manuscript. Among these, some of them are fragments and Castilian copies predominate, all them are dated from 1344 to the seventeenth century.

2 Pidal (1918). 3 For a concise overview of the codicological aspects of the chronicle and a complete bibliography, see Askins and Moreira (2015), as well as Pedro de Barcelos e a monarquia castelhanoleonesa: edição e estudo da secção final inédita da Crónica de 1344 https://pedrodebarcelos​ .wixsite.com/cronica1344/projecto‑em‑ingls (last accessed 17–03–2023). 4 Cintra (2009: i, cdxc). 5 Count Pedro de Barcelos was the illegitimate son of Denis, king of Portugal from 1279 to 1325. Throughout his exile in the kingdom of Castile, Pedro de Barcelos had contact with the Alfonsine legacy and adapted some of the latter’s chronicles for his own compositions. Following some family and political disagreements, the count withdrew to his palace in the north of Portugal, where he began his literary activity.

206

pandiello

The Academia das Ciências copy was produced in the first decades of the fifteenth century, which would date the codex between the reigns of João i (1385–1433), D. Duarte i (1433–1438) and, more probably, during the regencies of Leonor of Aragon (1438–1439) and D. Pedro, Duke of Coimbra (1439–1448). Since Cintra offered this hypothesis academic tradition has assumed, irrefutably, that the codex may have been copied and illuminated in the scriptorium of King D. Duarte. The philologist outlined several arguments in favour of this theory. First of all the sumptuous nature of the manuscript suggested royal provenance and, secondly, the palaeographic similarity between L and the Leal Conselheiro,6 both of which were written by the Monarch’s scriptorium. However, the palaeographic comparison between the two manuscripts would appear to have been of a superficial nature since Cintra did not notice that the final minim of the letter ‘m’ in the chronicle never extended downwards, this being one of the principal characteristics of the manuscript in Paris. The fact is that Cintra was expressing speculation rather than conviction, hence his use of terms such as ‘possibly’.7 Furthermore, it should be emphasised that the date of the Parisian manuscript has recently been questioned, and there is a possibility that it is a late copy, since it mentions Fr. Gil Lobo as already deceased, when in fact he died in 1451, which would place the codex after this date.8 Despite Cintra’s assertions being speculative, most researchers have interpreted them as conclusive facts, thereby cementing a possible misinterpretation regarding the provenance of manuscript L. Its royal provenance, however, would seem indisputable, given the obviously monarchical nature of the discourse therein, although this does not mean we should immediately settle on the figure of D. Duarte, since other royal family members may have had an interest in commissioning the codex. Cintra’s third and final argument relates to the only surviving inventory of Duarte’s bibliophilic collection, which records the presence of two chronicles. However, the inventory does not specify what these chronicles were, and no remaining records of other royal family members suggest that their volumes may have contained manuscript L. Other authors have mentioned Afonso v9 (Duarte’s son), Leonor10 (Duarte’s wife) and Pedro11 (Duarte’s brother) as possible patrons of the codex, and these hypotheses will be discussed below. 6 7 8 9 10 11

Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, ms Portugais 5. Cintra (2009: i, cdxcvii). Dionísio and Nogueira (2007). Miranda and Sousa (2009). Rodríguez Porto (2016). Peixeiro (2009); Pandiello (2021).

female indoctrination through the image

3

207

Structure and Sources

The narrative of the Crónica Geral de Espanha, which begins with Noah and extends to the battle of Salado in 1340, is divided into the following episodes: – The first part includes the prologue and what is known as the ‘prehistory’ of the peninsula. – A fragment that follows Alfonso’s Estoria de Espanna and the Portuguese version of the Crónica del Mouro Rasis (1315). This section describes Espanha (Spain) as a legendary land analogous to Eden and focuses on the Visigoth kingdoms up until the supposed arrival of the Muslims on the peninsula. – An enumeration of kings up to Alfonso xi (1331). – A brief enumeration of the kings of Asturias, Leon and Castile. This is the most extensive section and covers the reigns from Ramiro i of Asturias to Fernando iii of Castile and León, in other words, the history of the peninsula between the ninth and thirteenth centuries. It includes the kingdoms of Navarre and Aragon with some interspersed narratives relating to the kings of Portugal. – The final section covers the reign of Alfonso x up until the battle of Salado (1340). The Academia das Ciências version, however, contains certain noteworthy textual peculiarities: – A lacuna in the reign of Alfonso vi of Castile and Leon that Cintra filled in his edition from manuscript P.12 – The omission of the Portuguese kings. – The Crónica Geral de Espanha is abruptly interrupted on folio 317 by the funeral of Fernando iii. In the final part of manuscript L (folios 318a to 322b) the Crónica de Alfonso x by Fernán Sánchez de Valladolid is added. Historiographical discourse is malleable by nature and tends to echo the political interests of the moment. As a result, memory, history and historical events become mere clichés at the service of those who commission the chronicles, those who rewrite the past by imprinting their own ideologies. The Crónica Geral de Espanha of 1344 is no exception and over the course of its multiple metamorphoses the dynamic, mimetic nature of historical discourse is clear. The copy analysed here not only contains the textual particularities mentioned above, but also discursively belongs to a group of manuscripts that are ascribed to what is known as versão duarteana. This version differs from the versão con-

12

Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, ms Portugais 9 (ms P).

208

pandiello

destabliana13 (so called due to the patronage of Pedro, King of Aragon, son of Pedro, Duke of Coimbra, and nephew of D. Duarte). The versão duarteana is defined by the fact that it distanced itself from the imperialist political project of Alfonso x by granting autonomy to the crown of Portugal and emancipating it from the other peninsular kingdoms. Paradoxically this copy omits most of the Portuguese narratives, for which a larger historiographical project may have been conceived in a volume separate to manuscript L. In the particular case of L, and from a strictly visual perspective, the antiCastilianism is noteworthy, as is the preference for the house of Aragon, whose members are clearly embellished in the programme of illustrations. Despite the fact that only a few pages are devoted to their reigns, the privileged space occupied by these monarchs is surprising, their presence embodying the ideal of a harmonised court in which there is no room for intrigue and conflict. Added to this, as a peculiarity of L, is the aforementioned proliferation of female characters among the Lisbon codex miniatures.

4

Visual Apparatus

Before delving into the iconography of these images I will briefly outline some general considerations regarding L’s visual programme and its bibliography. As mentioned above, the Academia das Ciências manuscript has received little attention from art historians. Although Lindley Cintra’s edition, the facsimile edition provided by the Academia das Ciências in 2007 and the undeniable artistic richness of L have aroused some interest among scholars of imagery, the number of works devoted to this pictorial group is surprisingly low.14 Despite this unanimity regarding the artistic quality of these miniatures constitutes the only constant in this brief and somewhat uncoordinated bibliography. In his introductory volume Cintra already noted the artistic fertility of L, acknowledging that it was an unparalleled example in the Iberian Peninsula. Other voices joined in, pointing to its ‘exceptional nature’15 and ‘fascinating diversity 13 14

15

Manuscript P. The first essay dedicated to L’s imagery was written by Amado (2000), followed by a second, more detailed study by Peixeiro (2009). Further studies are the following: on the capitals and their artistic affiliations: Miranda and Sousa (2009); the first master’s thesis dedicated to iconography: Pandiello (2012b); a thesis dedicated to formal analysis: Tibúrcio (2013); an essay dedicated to ornamentation: Afonso (2013); a comparative study with other Castilian chronicles: Rodríguez Porto (2017). The only PhD thesis focused on manuscript L is Pandiello (2021). Cintra (2009: i, cdxcviii).

female indoctrination through the image

209

of plastic solutions’,16 as well as to the fact that it is one of the few ‘chronistic testimonies to be accompanied by an extensive pictorial cycle along the lines of the unfinished Estoria de Espanna Alfonsina’.17 It is important to emphasise that L’s pictorial group is defined by the contributions of a number of artists who brought a variety of techniques and experience to the codex. At least two principal styles, which Luís Urbano Afonso labelled model 1 and model 2,18 can be distinguished in the codex. The distribution of both models suggests that the various quires were distributed to different artists or workshops and illustrated simultaneously. model 1 contains the most memorable miniatures as it is the one that includes the narrative visual sequences as well as the most iconographically ambitious miniatures. The sophistication of this style also extends to the marginal decorations and, on a technical level, it demonstrates exceptional competence in the use of perspective, naturalistic drawing and chromaticism. Page composition is also remarkable in that it offers creative solutions to the use of space on the page and subverts the existent hierarchy between decoration, miniatures and historiated originals. The decoration features a variety of hybrids and other fantastic beings such as dragons, mermaids, homo selvaticus, drolleries and grotesque naked bodies. The particularly inventive botanical ornamentation is especially noteworthy and the models used can probably be found in herbaria, Taccuinum Sanitatis, alchemical treatises and other scientific volumes. The model described here was probably imported into the Portuguese manuscript by a Lombard artist and manuscripts with similar characteristics can be found in the workshops of the Visconti family in northern Italy. model 2 is a style that is recognisable in other Portuguese royal family manuscripts, a style that is defined by visibly disproportionate design as well as large illustrations, crude design and a colour palette that shows a preference for red and blue. From an iconographic perspective, and as mentioned above, while both models employ elements taken from the text, they use them in an unregimented fashion by endowing them with new meanings, the aim being to offer a gallery of moral examples and counter-examples by lending the images’ epideictic intent. The narrative images that draw part of their content from the text are:

16 17 18

Peixeiro (2009: 155). Rodríguez Porto (2016). Afonso (2013).

210

pandiello

“prehistory” asturian of spain dinasty

castilian dinasty

aragon dinasty

Hercules (fl. 1r) Archbishop of Santiago (fl. 155r) Lyberia (fl. 1r) Teresa and Abdalá (fl. 160r)

El Cid (fl. 189r)

Pedro iii of Aragon (fl. 182r)

Funeral of Fernando i of Leon (fl. 199r) D. Urraca and Pedro de Lara (fl. 266r) Funeral of Alfonso vii (fol. 269r) Proclamation of Enrique i and Berenguela (fl. 285r) Alfonso x and Violante of Aragon (fl. 318r) 6

Alfonso iii of Aragon (fl. 185v)

2

2

Jaime ii of Aragon (fl. 185v)

3

11 Pages (13 miniatures)

The table above shows the proliferation of female characters in L’s pictorial programme. These figures will be analysed below along with their underlying political messages. 4.1 Lyberia One of the more surprising presences in L’s visual apparatus is the figure of the legendary princess Lyberia, surprising in the sense that her portrait was not programmed in the Alphonsine manuscript E119 and for the fact that we are dealing with a narrative that is evidently secondary in nature. It is on the first folio page (Fig. 10.1), very close to a triumphant Hercules, that we can make out, despite the poor condition of the parchment, the figure of Lyberia. Although, like Hercules, the princess is a legendary character, her story relates the vicissitudes of a dynastic conflict that could have been of great interest at the time of the chronicle’s production. Lyberia was the daughter of

19

This text is one of the principal sources: Real Biblioteca del Monasterio de San Lorenzo de El Escorial, ms rbme Y-I-2.

female indoctrination through the image

figure 10.1

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 1r

211

212

figure 10.2

pandiello

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 1r (detail)

King Span and the burden of succession fell on her as the sole heir. Despite her initial resistance to the marriage, Lyberia has no choice but to agree to the betrothal on the sole condition that she may choose her future husband. To do so she gathers her suitors, three princes from distant lands: Greece, Scotland and Africa, and sets them a challenge. The first to complete it will become her husband and, consequently, king of Espanha. Predictably Pirus, the Greek prince, is victorious, having completed a symbolic trial: he had managed to divert water to the dry and barren land of Cález, making the Lyberia region habitable. While the Lyberia narrative is practically the same as the Alphonsine version, there is an important difference between the two copies: whereas the Alphonsine copy emphasises the princess’s intelligence, the Portuguese version prefers to omit this virtue, highlighting her beauty instead. As a colophon, the presence of Hercules, triumphant over a city, is not surprising, as the narrative idea of interweaving the origins of a territory with legendary heroes is a resource that is frequently employed in chronicles. However, the presence of Lyberia is noteworthy, as it constitutes a secondary narrative that, in addition, appears in the chronicle six pages later. The miniature shows the princess observing a stream of water reaching Cález, making it a fertile region. The artist places her surrounded by her suitors, the gesture of one of these denoting signs of defeat. A superficial glance might lead us to believe we are looking at a courting scene in which a woman surrounded by three

female indoctrination through the image

figure 10.3

213

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 160r

suitors contemplates a river. However, behind this apparent scene, which is reproduced with an idyllic tone that would likely attract the attention of spectators, lies a reflection on the dynastic responsibilities of Lyberia, who was able to sacrifice her personal desires to the detriment of the kingdom. 4.2 Teresa The second miniature analysed shows Teresa, a Christian princess who was forced to marry the Muslim Abdella de Toledo. According to the chronicle the princess’s brother, Alfonso v of Leon (994–1028), agreed to the marriage on the grounds of his inexperience. Teresa, however, refuses to consummate the marriage due to the religious differences between the two and, at Abdella’s insistence, Teresa is attended to by an angel who immediately slays the ‘infidel’. It is precisely this moment that is depicted in the miniature on folio 160r, where we can see the miraculous arm wielding a sword with which Teresa is executed. We also see her, with an assertive gesture, beatified for her resistance. In Teresa we encounter the second heroine of L’s visual apparatus. Like Lyberia, she also emerges onto the parchment in a manner that exemplifies

214

pandiello

what is expected of a princess. In this case the miniaturist stuck to the information provided by the text, an infrequent occurrence in L’s miniatures, as we will see. 4.3 Urraca On folio 266r a closed ‘V’ in the form of a hortus conclusus depicts a couple. On the surface this would appear to be a bucolic courtly recreation, judging by the natural surroundings, the vivacity of their dress and the dog that accompanies the lady. Behind this image, however, lies a powerful political message that, in addition, was probably addressed to a female spectator at the court of Avis. A closer look reveals that the woman, taller than her companion, refuses her lover’s hand. We can also perceive in her a gesture of pride. The woman depicted is Urraca i (1081–1126), Queen of Castile and Leon, and her lover, here rejected, Pedro de Lara. While Urraca i enjoyed an extraordinarily long reign (27 years), this fact was omitted by many chroniclers, others portrayed her as a wicked, indomitable woman.20 The version offered by L openly empathises with the denigratio tradition by also incorporating a narrative of unknown origin concerning her death. The Portuguese manuscript lists the number of offences caused by Queen Urraca. Not only did she possess two lovers among her vassals, she also allowed them to play important roles at court. According to the chronicle she was a diabolical, arrogant woman who constantly threatened the harmony of the kingdom by planning to marry her vassal, Pedro de Lara. L’s misogynistic discourse finally reaches fever pitch in the narrative of her death: the queen dies from divine punishment that breaks her body in two while she is trying to plunder a cathedral. While the textual version of L undoubtedly shows no sympathy for this controversial queen, the original historiated version prefers to show us an idealised Urraca who, in contradiction to the text, rejects her lover. In this instance the image goes further than the text by providing a utopian vision: an exemplary scenario. In this respect the image subverts the textual message, depicting the scene, as with Lyberia, in a refined amorous tone that would evidently attract the attention of the manuscript’s viewer. Once again, however, behind this apparently amorous-courtesan image there lies an indoctrinating discourse.

20

Branco and Dias (2007: 337).

female indoctrination through the image

figure 10.4

215

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 266r (detail)

4.4 Berenguela The Lisboan codex depicts two other women in exemplary roles. One of them is Berenguela (1180–1246), Queen of Castile and Leon, represented here at Enrique’s proclamation. Enrique i was only twelve years old when his parents died within twenty-four days of each other, a fate that led his sister Berenguela to assume regency of the kingdom until Enrique came of age. This was a period marked by great disputes between Berenguela and the House of Lara, who did not accept the female regency. The premature death of Enrique was followed by a brief period in which Berenguela sat on the throne as heir, though she was quickly forced to abdicate in favour of her son, Fernando.

216

pandiello

figure 10.5

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 285r (detail)

The capital letter on folio 285r is an architected ‘D’ which opens the chapter on Enrique i. The first paragraph summarises the history of the young monarch and his short reign and mentions the two women who were his regents: Leonor (his mother) and Berenguela. The miniature seems to depict the moment when Enrique i was hailed legitimate heir to the crown. The young man, raised by a group of other men, is conveniently distanced from the woman, Berenguela, who, visibly marginalised from the group, reclines her head in an expression of modesty. The miniature illustrates the tension between the House of Lara and Berenguela as well as the zealous nature of the male group towards the young monarch, isolating Berenguela from the political focus and literally ‘possessing’ the figure of the monarch. This is reflected in the text where the Conde de Lara stated that ‘the king belonged to him’21 in an attempt to exclude Berenguela from the political chessboard. This initial not only illustrates the textual fragment that it accompanies, but also compiles various pieces of information that are distributed throughout the adjoining chapters and summarises them brilliantly in a single image.

21

Cintra (2009: iv, 342).

female indoctrination through the image

figure 10.6

217

Lisbon, Academia das Ciências, ms Azul 1, Fol. 318r (detail)

4.5 Violante The last woman depicted in L’s programme of illustrations is Violante of Aragon (1236–1300), who accompanies her husband Alfonso x ‘El Sabio’. Particularly striking in this image is the attempt to minimise the figure of the king, who is seated without a crown on a simple wooden chair, thus evidencing the antiCastilianism mentioned above. On the other hand, while the text portrays Violante as a woman with excellent diplomatic skills in moments of political tension, the image prefers to show us a queen consort conveniently situated behind her husband, to whom she extends a maternal gesture.

218 5

pandiello

Historical Circumstances

5.1 Leonor de Teles On the 6th of April 1385, João i de Avis was crowned king of Portugal following a prolonged crisis that ended with the fall of the Borgonha dynasty and a new family on the throne: the house of Avis. Let us briefly analyse the events that precipitated the fall of the house of Borgonha through its last monarch, Fernando i. In addition to the undeniable devastation of the plague and the general crisis of the fourteenth century, the Portuguese kingdom also sustained endless battles against Castile which greatly decimated the population, who endured moments of real misery. As a result of general discontent and pressure from his advisors the Portuguese monarch, Fernando i, signed a truce with Castile in 1371 in what is known as the Treaty of Alcoutim, which stipulated that Fernando i himself would marry the Infanta Leonor of Castile as a means of safeguarding peace between the two kingdoms. That same year, however, the capricious, and not without reason nicknamed ‘the Inconstant’, Portuguese king secretly married another Leonor, Leonor de Teles, who was not the Castilian Infanta but rather a Portuguese lady who did not hail from a royal family and who, moreover, was married. The official recognition of the marriage between Fernando and Leonor de Teles a year later provoked great discontent among the Portuguese courtiers, as not only was Leonor not of royal blood, but she had also been married. To add to this the snub aimed at the Castilian crown did not herald the end of what are known as the Fernandine wars against Castile. The 1383 Treaty of Salvaterra, however, provided another opportunity for reconciliation between the two crowns. On this occasion the treaty stipulated that Beatrice, the only descendant of Fernando i and Leonor de Teles, would inherit the crown of Portugal and would be betrothed to Juan i of Castile. However, Fernando wanted to avoid, by any means necessary, occupation of the Portuguese crown by the Castilian monarch and to this end stipulated that the only legitimate heir to the Portuguese throne was the heir of Beatrice and John, and until this heir reached legal age (Beatrice was only ten years old at the time) Fernando appointed Leonor de Teles, his wife, as regent of the kingdom. Fernando i died the same year, and although Leonor’s regency was supposed to last at least another fifteen years she was only able to hold her position for a few months. Leonor de Teles was a woman, and while she was certainly not popular among Portuguese aristocrats for the reasons mentioned above, the most serious issue was that she had a lover, Juan Fernandez de Andeiro,

female indoctrination through the image

219

a Galician aristocrat who was becoming increasingly powerful on the basis of his relationship with the regent and who also maintained cordial relations with the kingdom of Castile. In the face of growing tension at the Portuguese court, which was threatened by a regent who bestowed too much power on her lover, João de Avis decided to take advantage of the climate of instability. João was the illegitimate son of Pedro i (1320–1367), father and predecessor of the recently deceased Fernando i and Teresa de Lourenço. From an early age his education had been entrusted to Nuno Freire Andrade, who raised him in Lisbon. At seven years old he entered the Order of Avis and frequented the court of his half-brother Fernando i on a regular basis, occasionally assuming diplomatic responsibilities. Despite his not being a legitimate heir to the throne, as he was an illegitimate son, in the succession crisis that followed Leonor’s regency he began to assume an everincreasing leadership role that would eventually lead him to be crowned king of Portugal. João’s first step was to assassinate Juan Fernandez de Andeiro. At the same time Juan i of Castile had pressured Leonor to cede the regency of the Portuguese kingdom to him. Under increasing pressure from the Castilian monarch, João took it upon himself to lead the Portuguese resistance against the attacks. These incidents would accelerate the election, in 1385, of João i as the legitimate king of Portugal and the Algarve. The definitive consolidation of João i, however, would come a few months later when he defeated the Castilian enemy in the famous Battle of Aljubarrota, thereby putting an end to decades of war with the neighbouring country. Despite João i’s newfound stability and celebrated political interventions, the fact remains that he was still an illegitimate king, an issue that helps explain the Avis family’s interest in cultivating the chronicle genre in particular. The writer Fernão Lopes was responsible for designing and ‘embellishing’ João i’s exploits, and from 1437 to 1443 (a period that covered the reigns of D. Duarte, João i’s successor, and the regencies of Leonor and Pedro) he was entrusted with creating a convincing narrative that would justify the coronation of João i and, consequently, the entire Avis dynasty. To this end he wrote the Crónica de D. Fernando, in which he depicts a monarch ‘lovesick’ for Leonor de Teles. The Avis family chronicler absolves Fernando of any incrimination (even though, in reality, the misery of his people was due to the fierce battles to which he subjected them), attributing instead to Leonor de Teles all responsibility for the fall of the Borgonha. She had bewitched the monarch by making him fall pathologically in love with her and, moreover, had been unfaithful to him with Count Andeiro, who had political ambitions in the kingdom of Portugal.

220

pandiello

The question of female regency was clearly a sensitive issue at the time manuscript L was in the making, and while the Lisbon codex was in production Fernão Lopes was busy demonising the figure of Leonor in an effort to justify the presence of an upstart on the throne, João i. History repeats itself, however, and another crisis concerning a female regency erupted at the Portuguese court during the same period. 5.2 Leonor of Aragon A few years after the events described above, in 1438, D. Duarte, João i’s successor, died a victim of the plague. As his only heir, Afonso, was only six years old, Duarte appointed his wife, Leonor of Aragon, as the sole regent and legal tutor of the heir. Just a few years later, in 1439, Leonor of Aragon shared the regency with Pedro (brother of the late Duarte and second son of João i). However, voices against the regent Leonor were beginning to be raised. After all, she was a woman and a foreigner, and her brothers, the Infantes of Aragon, could take advantage of the country’s vulnerability. On the one hand, Leonor of Aragon belonged to a rival family hostile to that of Isabel of Urgell, wife of D. Pedro, since both families had disputed the right to the crown of Aragon years before. On the other hand, Leonor, who had agreed to marry her first-born son Afonso to Isabel, the daughter of D. Pedro, was beginning to back out of the deal. This marriage was of great importance to D. Pedro, who saw in it the possibility of preventing potential political intrusions. That same year Leonor lost guardianship of her son to Pedro. The queen’s privileges were significantly reduced until she was forced to leave Portugal clandestinely in 1441. She died in Toledo three years later, rumours at the time suggesting that she may have been poisoned by Pedro himself. In 1446 Afonso came of age. His education had been excellent, thanks to the influence of his uncle, who continued to hold the position of regent despite the fact that the crown had an active monarch. Pedro’s unjustified presence as regent greatly radicalised his enemies, who began to portray him as a usurper who had manipulated his nephew in order to satisfy his ambitions. From 1439 to 1446 Pedro was forced to infiltrate spies throughout the court as his reputation deteriorated. Afonso’s advisors, on the other hand, stoked the fires of discord by creating rifts between the nephew and his regent uncle. As a result of the growing tension between the two, they clashed on the battlefield. Pedro, accused of disobedience, eventually died at the hands of his nephew.

female indoctrination through the image

6

221

Conclusions

The images analysed here have been transferred to the manuscript as ethical examples that, in turn, offer a rewritten, idealised version of history. Underlying most of the miniatures lies a conflict that is by nature dynastic, resulting in the moralisation of the female role, and all the miniatures analysed have the intention of delineating the contours (and limits) of women in the kingdom, cautioning and indoctrinating the potential viewer regarding the importance (and risks) of not overstepping those limits. Despite their epideictic intention, some of these images take on a courtly, bucolic appearance in an effort to establish themselves in the viewer’s memory on the basis of emotion. These images act as pointers to specific passages of the chronicle that were considered relevant to the political situation at the time. The female regency was clearly one of the issues that most concerned the ideologue of manuscript L, as it echoed recent historical events that, indeed, had seen two women as regents. It is hard to imagine that D. Duarte was really the ideologist behind this manuscript, not only for the reasons offered at the beginning of this study, but also because it contradicts his own volition. L’s visual apparatus maintains a misogynistic stance that discredits the presence of women in power, yet the monarch bestowed full rights to his wife prior to his death, not only as regent but also as tutor of the future monarch, hereby demonstrating his absolute confidence in her. Nor does it seem plausible, for the same reasons, that Leonor (Duarte’s widow) could have had any interest in commissioning a manuscript with such an ideological orientation. Similarly, it is hard to imagine that Afonso v would have had such interest in printing a message that did not essentially affect his own reign. If there were indeed someone who truly had an interest in creating this pictorial programme, however, that would be D. Pedro, second-born and regent of Portugal. It was D. Pedro who, in effect, reacted against Leonor’s regency and who did everything possible to remove her from the Portuguese crown, at the same time making enemies within the Portuguese court among those who saw D. Pedro as a usurper and intriguer. The truth is that they were not mistaken; D. Pedro was a second son with great political ambition. If D. Duarte was a dreamy monarch more inclined to philosophy and resigned to his role as a monarch with the soul of a bureaucrat, D. Pedro turned out to be a prolific writer and translator in matters of politics, his entire literary production, which is not insignificant, being centred on government affairs. Pedro really had a vocation and fascination for court affairs, a fact that drove him to spend time at European courts over the course of many years, and it was precisely his ambition that at times separated him from his family. Not surprisingly he saw an opportunity to occupy the throne follow-

222

pandiello

ing his brother’s death, but there was one snag he had to get rid of, namely Leonor. And while the second son did indeed oust her with surprising speed, he also had to convince and justify himself, not only to Leonor herself, but also to the anti-Peterian court party, which, let us not forget, was extensive. The tensions between D. Pedro and his enemies provoked a pre-civil war climate that was only resolved after the death of the prince, and it is quite understandable that the prince would have felt the need to justify himself to the court audience by producing a book that would visually captivate the viewer while ‘convincing’ the need for women to renounce and sacrifice themselves for the crown. Translated by T.B. Allen

Bibliography Primary Sources—Manuscripts Lisbon Academia das Ciencias, Azul 1 (Manuscript L)

Madrid Real biblioteca del Monasterio de San Lorenzo de El Escorial, rbme Y-I-2

Paris Bibliothèque nationale de France, Portugais 9 (Manuscript P)

Primary Sources—Editions Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344. Edição crítica do texto em português. 4 vols. Ed. Luís F. Lindley Cintra. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História, 2009. Referred to as Crónica Geral, [Vol., page]. Crónica de D. Fernando de Fernão Lopes. Ed. Giuliano Macchi. Lisboa: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 2004.

Secondary Literature Afonso, L. (2013). ‘A essência do medium um estudo sobre as iluminuras marginais da Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 da Academia das Ciências de Lisboa.’ Cadernos de História da Arte 1: 3–17. Afonso, L., and Joana Ramôa, eds. (2016). O Fascínio do Gótico. Um Tributo a José Custódio Vieira da Silva. Lisboa: artis, Instituto de História da Arte da Universidade de Lisboa.

female indoctrination through the image

223

Amado, T. (2000). ‘As imagens e o Texto Manuscrito Iluminado da Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344.’ ariane, revue d’études littéraires françaises 16: 35–49. Askins, A., and Filipe Alves Moreira (2015). ‘A Crónica de 1344 para além de Pedro de Barcelos: perspetivas recentes e novidades.’ eHumanista 31: 64–79. Baleiras, I. (2013). ‘The political role of a Portuguese Queen in the late fourteenth century.’ In Mediterranean Queenship. Negotiating the Role of the Queen in the Medieval and Early Modern Eras. Ed. E. Woodacre. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. 97–123. Branco, Maria João, and Isabel de Barros Dias (2007). ‘Metamorfoses de Urraca de LeãoCastela e de Teresa de Portugal: construções e desconstruções das imagens de duas rainhas.’ In Actas del xi Congreso Internacional de la Associación Hispánica de Literatura Medieval. Ed. A. López de Castro and María Luzdivina Cuesta Torre. León: Universidad de León. 335–347. Castrillo, C.G., and Óscar Lilao Franca (2002). Catálogo de manuscritos de la Biblioteca Universitaria de Salamanca. Vol. ii, Manuscritos 1680–2777. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca. Catalán, D. (1962). De Alfonso x al conde de Barcelos. Cuatro estudios sobre el nacimiento de la historiografía romance en Castilla y Portugal. Madrid: Gredos. Catalán, D. (1997) De la silva textual al taller historiográfico alfonsí: Códices, crónicas, versiones y cuadernos de trabajo. Madrid: Fundación Menéndez Pidal. Cintra, Luís F. Lindley, ed. (2009). See Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344. Dacosta, A. (2004). ‘Relato y discurso en los orígenes del reino Astur-Leonés.’ Estudios de Historia Medieval 22: 153–168. Días, I. (2007). ‘Crónística Afonsina modelada em português: um caso de recepção activa.’ Hispania. Revista Española de Historia 67: 889–928. Dionísio, J., and Bernardo de Sá Nogueira (2007). ‘Sobre a datação do manuscrito P do Leal Conselheiro, de D. Duarte: a fórmula que Deus perdoe.’ Ehumanista 8: 117– 132. Hijano Villegas, M. (2000). ‘Narraciones ‘descoyuntadas’ en la Castilla bajomedieval: la Estoria del fecho de los godos.’ In Teoría y práctica de la historiografía medieval ibérica. Ed. Aengus Ward. Birmingham: University of Birmingham Press: 32–58. Hijano Villegas, M. (2008). ‘Retorno a la selva textual. Compiladores medievales y filólogos modernos.’ In La fractura historiográfica: las investigaciones en la Edad Media y Renacimiento desde el Tercer Milenio. Seminario de Estudios Medievales y Renacentistas. Ed. F.J.L. Burguillo and Laura Mier Pérez. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca. 353–363. Fernández Ordóñez, I.F. (1993). ‘La Versión Crítica. Presentación y Reconstrucción textual de una nueva versión alfonsí de la Estoria de España.’ In Literatura Medieval, Actas do iv Congresso da Associação Hispânica de Literatura Medieval. Ed. A. Nascimento and Cristina Almeida Ribeiro. Lisboa: Cosmos. 91–96. Fernández Fernández, L. (2010). ‘Transmisión del Saber. Transmisión del Poder. La

224

pandiello

imagen de Alfonso x en la Estoria de España, Ms. Y-I-2, rbme.’ Anales de Historia del Arte vol. Extraordinario: 187–210. Ferreira, M. do R. (2010). ‘Urraca e Teresa: o paradigma perdido.’ In Marsupiis Peregrinorum: Circulación de Textos e Imágenes alrededor del Camino de Santiago en la Edad Media. Ed. Esther Corral Díaz. Florence: Edizioni del Galluzo. 201–216. Kantorowicz, E. (1989). I due corpi del Re. Torino: Einaudi Editore. Menéndez Pidal, R. (1918). Crónicas Generales de España. Catálogo de la Real Biblioteca. Madrid: Real Biblioteca. Martin, Georges (2007). ‘Negociación y diplomacia en la vida de Berenguela de Castilla (1214–1246). Cuestionamiento Genérico.’ e-Spania 4 [Online] Available at: https://journals.openedition.org/e‑spania/21609 (last accessed 12–03–2023). Martin, Georges (2013). ‘Reinar sin reinar. Berenguela de Castilla en el espejo de la historiografía de su época (1214–1246).’ e-Spania 1. [Online] Available at: https://journals​ .openedition.org/e‑spania/21608 (last accessed 12–03–2023). Miranda, M.A., and Luís Correia de Sousa (2009). ‘Corpo/Alfabeto-Representação do corpo da Crónica Geral de Espanha.’ In Jorge Crespo—Estudos em Homenagem. Ed. Fernando Ribeiro. Lisboa: 100 Luz. 415–434. Mitchell, W.J.T. (1987). Iconology: Image, text, Ideology. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Mitre. E.F. (1988). ‘La muerte del rey: La historiografía hispánica (1200–1348) y la muerte entre las élites.’ En la España Medieval 11: 167–183. Moreira, F.A. (2010). ‘A Crónica de Portugal de 1419: Fontes, Estratégias e Posteridade.’ Dissertação de Doutoramento em Literaturas e Culturas Românicas, Porto: Faculdade de Letras da Universidade do Porto. Moreira, F.A. (2012). ‘Notas sobre a convivência de línguas em Portugal no século xv e a tradução da Crónica de Alfonso x.’ e-Spania 13. [Online] Available at: https://journals​ .openedition.org/e‑spania/21113. Moreira, F.A. (2015). ‘Os reis de Portugal na Versão crítica da Estoria de España e na Crónica de Castela.’ In Actas del xiii Congreso Internacional, Asociación Hispánica deLiteratura Medieval, in Memoriam Alan Deyermond. Ed. M.J.G. Díez, Demetrio Martín Sanz, Jose Manuel Fradejas Rueda and Déborah Dietrick Smithbauer. Valladolid: Ayuntamiendo de Valladolid y Universidad de Valladolid. 1435–1437. Moreira, F.A. (2016). ‘A Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 e a literatura historiográficasobre Afonso xi.’ e-Spania 25. [Online] Available at: https://journals.openedition.org/​ e‑spania/25888 Moreira, F.A. (2018). ‘Fr. Gil de Tavira e a datação do manuscrito do Leal Conselheiro de D. Duarte.’ Mátria Digital 6: 121–129. Nascimento, A. (1995). ‘O mito de Hércules: Etimologia e recuperação no tempo antigo na historiografia medieval hispânica.’ Humanitas 47: 671–684.

female indoctrination through the image

225

Pandiello, M.F. (2012a). ‘Hércules.’ Revista Digital de Iconografía Medieval 8: 67–78. Pandiello, M.F. (2012b). ‘Estudio iconográfico de algunas representaciones en la Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (Academia das Ciências, ms. A. 1).’ Unpublished master thesis. Universidade Nova de Lisboa. Pandiello, M.F. (2013). ‘Uma proposta iconográfica para o prólogo do ms. A. 1 da Academia das Ciências.’ Cadernos de História da Arte 1: 32–42. Pandiello, M.F. (2016a). ‘El triunfo del rey sobre la muerte. Estudio iconográfico de dos funerales reales representados en la Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344.’ In Afonso and Ramôa (2016). 75–86. Pandiello, M.F. (2016b). ‘Las imágenes de La Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (Ms. 1 Azul de la Academia das Ciências). Filiaciones artísticas y pautas iconográficas.’ eSpania 25. [Online] Available at: https://journals.openedition.org/e‑spania/25893. Pandiello, M.F. (2021). ‘La Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (Ms. A 1 de la Academia das Ciências). Estudio iconográfico-cultural y filiaciones internacionales.’ Unpublished PhD thesis. Faculdade de Letras de Lisboa. [Online] Available at: https://repositorio​ .ul.pt/bitstream/10451/50548/1/ulflmpfernandez_td.pdf (last accessed 12–03–2023). Peixeiro, H.A. (2009). ‘Imagem e tempo. Representações do poder na Crónica Geral de Espanha.’ Revista de História da Arte 7: 53–178. Rodríguez Porto, R. (2016). ‘La Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 (ms. 1 A de la Academia das Ciências) y la tradición alfonsí.’ e-Spania 25. [Online] Available at: https://​ journals.openedition.org/e‑spania/25911. Rodríguez Porto, R. (2017). ‘The pillars of Hercules: The Estoria de Espanna (Escorial, Y.I.2) as Universal Chronicle’. In Universal Chronicles in the High Middle Ages. Ed. H. Bainton and Michele Campopiano. York: York Medieval Press. 223–253. Rodrigues, A.M. (2012). As tristes rainhas. Leonor de Aragão. Isabel de Coimbra. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores. Rodrigues, S.A. (2008). ‘Aliénor, une infante entre la Castille, l’Aragon et le Portugal.’ e-Spania 5. [Online] Available at: https://journals.openedition.org/e‑spania/11833 (last accessed 12–03–2023). Salvador, H.M. (2012a). ‘Matrimonio de Alfonso ix de León con Berenguela de Castilla. Una historia de intrepidez femenina.’ Argutorio 29: 27–31. Salvador, H.M. (2012b). Berenguela la Grande y su época, 1180–1246. Madrid: Ediciones Polifemo. Tibúrcio, C. (2013). ‘A iluminura do manuscrito 1 série azul da Crónica geral de Espanha de 1344 da Academia das Ciências de Lisboa: da técnica e do estilo individual ao posicionamento no seu ambiente criador.’ Unpublished master thesis. Faculdade de letras de Lisboa. Tibúrcio, C. (2016a) ‘A memória no programa decorativo da Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344.’ Revista Roda da Fortuna. Revista sobre Antiguidade e Medievo 2: 154–182. Tibúrcio, C. (2016b). ‘O manuscrito da Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 da Academia

226

pandiello

das Ciências de Lisboa. Problematização em torno das questões da origem e da execução.’ In Afonso and Ramôa (2016). 87–194. Tibúrcio, C. (2018). ‘A moda no m.s.a 1 da Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344: Contributo para a datação da iluminura.’ Mirabilia Ars 8: 43–67. Tibúrcio, C. (2020). ‘A Crónica Geral de Espanha de 1344 entre os séculos xiv e xv. A génese de um scriptorium de corte?’ In Juvenes—The Middle Ages seen by young researchers. Ed. A.M. Coelho and Silvana R. Vieira de Sousa. Évora: Publicações do Cidehus. [Online] Available at: https://books.openedition.org/cidehus/9737.

11 La ‘Matière de Troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale Adrien Quéret-Podesta

Résumé Like numerous other historiographic and litterary sources produced in the Medieval West, the oldest preserved Central European chronicles show several traces of use of narrative sources dedicated to the history of Troy as well as references to this topic. Indeed, the Gallus anonymus makes one reference to Troy in the prologue of the third book of his Chronica sive gesta ducum et principium polonorum (1112–1116) to underline the importance of recording the past, whereas Cosmas of Prague makes an extensive use of sources dealing with Troy for stylistical purposes in his Chronica Boemorum (1125) and frequently compares Czech protagonists or events which happened in Bohemia with people or events of the Trojan wars. The Hungarian anonymus notary also uses a source about Trojan history in his Gesta Hungarorum (1196–1203) as a stylistical aid, but chiefly for creating descriptions of characters. The analysis of the reception of Trojan history in the oldest Central European chronicles enables us to see that the key role in this phenomenon was played by the importance of the Classics in medieval intellectual formation and that the increasing interest in the history of Troy, which can be seen in medieval culture as from the eleventh century, seems to have played only a minor role in that matter.

1

Introduction

A l’instar de nombreuses autres sources narratives et littéraires produites dans l’Occident médiéval, les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale contiennent plusieurs références à l’histoire de Troie: en effet, des mentions de ce thème et des traces d’utilisation de sources relatant l’histoire de la Guerre de Troie apparaissent à la fois dans la Chronica sive gesta ducum et principium polonorum du Gallus anonymus (1112–1116), dans la Chronica Boemorum de Cosmas de Prague (1125) et dans la plus ancienne chronique hongroise conservée, à savoir les Gesta Hungarorum du notaire anonyme (1196–1203). La présence de ces éléments à une date plutôt précoce dans une région relativement éloi-

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_012

228

quéret-podesta

gnée des foyers du net regain d’intérêt pour l’histoire de Troie qui caractérise la culture médiévale à partir de la seconde moitié du onzième siècle est incontestablement digne d’intérêt et il convient donc de se demander dans quelle mesure la ‘manie de Troie’ a pu influer sur la réception de l’histoire troyenne dans les trois textes mentionnés, tant en ce qui concerne les œuvres utilisées par les chroniqueurs que la façon dont l’histoire de Troie est utilisée dans le schéma narratifs des chroniques. Afin de répondre à cette question la présente communication sera divisée en trois parties. Dans un premier temps nous nous efforcerons d’établir la place de l’histoire de Troie dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale ainsi que la nature des sources utilisées par ces chroniques, puis nous aborderons le rôle des sources relatant la Guerre de Troie comme aides stylistiques et sources de comparaison de dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale. Enfin, dans un troisième temps, nous examinerons la place et la fonction de l’Histoire de Troie dans les prologues des chroniques.

2

La place et les sources de l’histoire de Troie dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale

Parmi les trois œuvres que nous allons analyser, la Chronica sive gesta ducum et principium polonorum du Gallus anonymus est la plus ancienne, puisqu’elle a vraisemblablement été rédigée entre 1112 et 1116. Cette œuvre se compose de trois livres écrits majoritairement en prose rimée qui rapportent l’histoire des souverains polonais depuis Piast, le fondateur légendaire de la dynastie du même nom, jusqu’en 1113 environ: le premier livre couvre toute la période antérieure à la naissance de Boleslas iii Bouche torse, principal protagoniste de l’œuvre, alors que les deux livres suivants lui sont consacrés. L’auteur de ce texte, demeuré anonyme, a longtemps été considéré comme étant d’origine française, ce qui lui valut le surnom de Gallus anonymus, mais les dernières recherches suggèrent que ce chroniqueur pourrait être d’origine vénitienne.1 La chronique du Gallus anonymus est celle de nos trois chroniques dans laquelle l’histoire de Troie occupe la place la plus restreinte. En effet, ce thème n’apparait que dans le prologue du troisième livre de la chronique, dans lequel l’auteur anonyme rappelle l’importance de l’historiographie en citant un certain nombre d’exemples tirés de l’histoire antique; le passage consacré à Troie

1 Quéret-Podesta (2015).

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

229

n’occupe que deux phrases du prologue et affirme que la célèbre cité, désormais en ruines, a été sauvée de l’oubli par les œuvres des poètes: Maxima quoque Troia, quamvis destructa iacabat et deserta, aeternae tamen memoriae poetarum tytulis est inserta. Muri coaequati, turres destructae iacent, loca spaciosa et amoena habitatore carent, in palatiis regum et principium lustra ferarum et cubilia secreta latent, Troiae tamen Pergama ubique terrarum scriptura clamante praedicatur, Hector et Priamus plus in pulvera quam in regni solio recitantur. Galli Anonymi Chronicae, 122–123

L’immense Troie elle aussi, bien qu’elle soit déserte et détruite, est sertie/gravée dans la mémoire éternelle grâce aux titres/inscriptions des poètes. Les murs [sont] rasés, les tours gisent détruites, les demeures vastes et agréables n’ont plus d’habitant, des repaires de bêtes féroces et des tanières secrètes se dissimulent dans les palais des rois et des princes, la Pergame de Troie est connue partout par la voix des écritures, Hector et Priam sont plus souvent nommés alors qu’ils sont redevenus poussière que lorsqu’ils étaient sur le trône royal; toutes les traductions sont de l’auteur. En raison de la brièveté et du caractère relativement générique de ce passage, il s’avère assez difficile de déterminer les sources utilisées par le chroniqueur anonyme: les textes les plus fréquemment mentionnés sont l’Illias Latina,2 l’Énéide de Virgile,3 mais aussi l’Ephemeris Belli Troiani traditionnelle-

2 Baebii Italici Ilias Latina. Le chercheur polonais Witold Wojtowicz indique ainsi qu’il n’est pas possible de déterminer d’où le Gallus connaissait l’histoire de Troie, mais il souligne tout de même que l’Ilias latina était particulièrement répandue au Moyen Age (Wojtowicz 2018: 129). La grande popularité de cette œuvre attribuée au sénateur romain Publius Baebius Italicus est également mentionnée par le chercheur hongrois Dániel Bági, qui considère que ce poème aurait pu constituer l’une des sources de la chronique du Gallus anonymus, dont le passage consacré à l’Histoire antique s’ouvre par une référence aux Gaulois et Romains (Bági 2008: 195–196). 3 Virgile, ‘Eneide’. Witold Wojtowicz considère ainsi que la mention de Cléopâtre comme Reine de Carthage à la fin du passage sur l’histoire antique dans le prologue du troisième livre de la Chronique du Gallus anonymus a pu être inspirée par un passage de l’Énéide, ce qui suggère une possible utilisation de cette œuvre pour la description de Troie. Par ailleurs, le chercheur polonais affirme que cette substitution semble être un choix délibéré et non pas le résultat d’une confusion (Wojtowicz 2018: 129–130).

230

quéret-podesta

ment attribuée à Dyctis de Crète4 ou encore le Pergama Flere Volo.5 Par ailleurs, alors que la comparaison des références textuelles figurant dans la chronique du Gallus anonymus à la liste des livres de la Cathédrale de Cracovie en 1110 suggère que le chroniqueur anonyme a principalement utilisé des ouvrages contenus en ce lieu, il convient de souligner que cette liste ne mentionne aucun des ouvrages cités ci-dessus.6 Les deux seuls ouvrages traitant d’histoire antique dans l’inventaire cracovien sont la Thébaïde de Stace et l’œuvre de Salluste, que le Gallus anonymus utilise fréquemment dans sa chronique, mais ce que nous savons du fonctionnement des listes de livres durant la période médiévale nous incite toutefois à ne pas écarter totalement la possibilité qu’une œuvre relatant la Guerre de Troie ait pu être contenue dans l’un de ces volumes.7 Il convient en outre de souligner que malgré l’existence de plusieurs tentatives dans ce sens, il ne semble pas possible d’utiliser l’usage de sources mentionnant l’histoire troyenne comme un moyen de déterminer l’origine du Gallus anonymus. En effet, l’usage de sources rédigées en langue grecque est disputé alors que les deux sources latines antiques envisagées (l’Iliade latine et l’Énéide) possèdent une diffusion trop grande pour opérer une sélection géographique. De fait, même l’usage du poème Pergama Flere Volo ne constitue pas nécessai-

4 Dyctis Cretensis Ephimeridos belli troiani libri 6. Le principal partisan de l’usage de cette œuvre par le Gallus anonymus est le médiéviste polonais Tomasz Jasiński, qui identifie le Gallus anonymus au Moine de Saint Nicolas du Lido auteur de la Translatio Sancti Nicolai et considère qu’il possède une certaine connaissance du grec (Jasiński 2005: 85). L’usage de l’Ephemeris Belli Troiani est cependant écarté dès 1952 par Karol Maleczyński dans son édition de la Chronique ainsi que par Dániel Bági dans sa réponse aux travaux de Tomasz Jasiński (Bagi 2008: 196). 5 ‘Vers sur la ruine de Troie’ (Pergama flere volo). Ce poème de la fin du xième siècle, autrefois attribué à tort à Hildebert de Lavardin et composé dans la moitié septentrionale de la France, peut-être dans le Val de Loire, lieu de naissance de nombreux poèmes latins consacrés à la Guerre de Troie au tournant du xième et xiième siècles (voir par exemple Tilliette 1999: 411–412). Karol Maleczyński et Dániel Bági se prononcent ainsi en faveur d’une utilisation du Pergama Flere Volo en raison de la mention de Pergame dans le texte du Gallus Anonymus (voir par exemple Bági 2008: 196), mais il convient de souligner que le nom de la citadelle troyenne apparait aussi dans d’autres œuvres, notamment dans l’Énéide. 6 Voir ‘Spisy dawne skarbca i biblioteki kapitulnej krakowskiej’ (Anciens inventaires du trésor et de la bibliothèque du chapitre cathédral de Cracovie). 7 Le fait que le cinquième chapitre du second livre de la chronique contienne un emprunt à la Pharsale de Lucain, qui ne figure pourtant pas dans l’inventaire de 1110, semble également pouvoir suggérer que la cathédrale de Cracovie possédait peut-être d’autres œuvres d’auteurs classiques que celles inscrites dans la liste, mais l’emprunt à Lucain est trop bref et générique pour constituer une preuve formelle dans ce sens car il peut aussi s’agir d’une réminiscence d’une lecture antérieure.

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

231

rement un argument contre l’hypothèse d’une origine vénitienne puisque le moine de Saint Nicolas du Lido, que certains chercheurs identifient au chroniqueur anonyme, a séjourné dans la région de Tours, où il aurait pu prendre connaissance de ce texte. La situation est plus favorable en ce qui concerne la Chronique des Tchèques de Cosmas de Prague. La genèse de cette œuvre, qui se compose de trois livres relatant l’histoire de la Bohême depuis ses origines légendaires jusqu’en 1125, est ainsi relativement bien connue grâce aux précisions données par son auteur: ce dernier indique ainsi au début de son œuvre qu’il se prénomme Cosmas, est doyen de la Cathédrale de Prague.8 Dans l’un des derniers chapitres du troisième livre, le chroniqueur ajoute également qu’il est octogénaire et a étudié autrefois à l’école cathédrale de Liège.9 L’un des éléments les plus remarquables de la Chronique des Tchèques de Cosmas de Prague est la présence en grand nombre de références à l’Antiquité et d’emprunts aux auteurs classiques.10 En effet, dès le prologue précédent le premier livre, le chroniqueur praguois fait référence à la façon dont ‘Virgile utilisa les destructions de Troie et Stace l’Eacide’:11 ce bref passage nous indique donc clairement que les deux principales sources de Cosmas en ce qui concerne l’histoire de Troie sont respectivement l’Énéide de Virgile et l’Achilléide de Stace. L’Énéide est de loin la source la plus utilisée des deux, puisqu’on remarque plusieurs dizaines de traces d’emploi de cette œuvre dans toute la chronique:12 il s’agit avant tout d’emprunts stylistiques, mais on relève également deux cas où l’auteur opère une comparaison entre la situation politique locale et la guerre de Troie. Pour l’Achilléide, on ne relève qu’un emprunt stylistique net,13 mais le poème épique inachevé de Stace a peut-être inspiré les références à 8 9

10 11 12

13

Cosmas, Chronik, i, premier prologue, 1: ‘… Cosmas Pragensis ecclesie solo nomine decanus…’. Cosmas, Chronik, iii, ch. 59, 237: ‘O si mihi iam octogenario preteritos Deus referat annos, quibus olim Leodii sub Francone magistro tum grammatice tum dialectice artis in virectis [et] pratis mecum lusisti satis!’ Voir par exemple Švanda (2009). Cosmas, Chronik, i, second prologue, 2: ‘… sicut Vergilius habuit Troiae Excidia, et Statius Aeacida’. Le nombre d’emprunts à l’Énéide dans la Chronique des Tchèques varie sensiblement selon les chercheurs: ainsi Rudolf Köpke, auteur de la première édition de cette œuvre dans les Monumenta Germaniae Historica en 1851, en relève une trentaine alors que l’édition de Berthold Bretholz en recense plus de quatre-vingt. Un vers situé à la fin du premier chapitre du second livre de la Chronique de Cosmas (‘Nec minus angebant matrem sua gaudia letam…’) est en effet inspiré du second hémistiche du vers 183 du premier livre de l’Achilléide (‘… angunt sua gaudia matrem’).

232

quéret-podesta

Achille dans la chronique. Enfin, un vers des Bucoliques de Virgile,14 auquel Cosmas fait par ailleurs de nombreux emprunts, est utilisé par le chroniqueur pour raconter comment Circé changea les compagnons d’Ulysse en animaux sauvages15 dans un passage où Libuše, et ses sœurs sont comparées à Sybille de Cumes, Médée et Circé.16 Les cas de comparaison entre des protagonistes ou des évènements de la chronique et des héros ou des épisodes de la Guerre de Troie semblent donc également trouver leurs sources dans les trois œuvres que nous venons de mentionner. La dernière chronique que nous allons étudier ici est la plus ancienne chronique médiévale hongroise conservée, qui porte le nom de Gesta Hungarorum et fut vraisemblablement rédigée entre 1196 et 1203:17 son auteur, inconnu, est généralement désigné par les termes de ‘Notaire anonyme’ – il n’exerce toutefois vraisemblablement plus cette fonction lorsqu’il écrit son récit – et de ‘Maitre P.’, qui sont déduits des informations fournies dans le prologue de l’œuvre.18 Dans l’unique manuscrit connu, le texte de la chronique est divisé en 57 chapitres qui relatent l’histoire des Hongrois depuis leurs origines jusqu’à leur christianisation par le roi Etienne ier au tournant des dixième et onzième siècles. Tout comme Cosmas de Prague, l’auteur des plus anciennes Gesta Hungarorum conservées mentionne dès le prologue de son récit la source de ses connaissances sur la guerre de Troie: il s’agit ici de l’Excidium Troiae, attribué traditionnellement au prêtre troyen Darès de Phrygie mais vraisemblablement rédigé dans les derniers siècles de l’Antiquité. Dans la deuxième phrase de son œuvre, le notaire anonyme rapporte que son ami N., à qui il dédie son texte, et lui-même ont lu l’histoire de Troie ‘dans les livres de Darès de Phrygie et d’autres auteurs’ alors qu’ils étudiaient, puis il ajoute que N. lui a demandé de composer sur le modèle de ‘l’histoire troyenne et des guerres des Grecs’ une œuvre historiographique consacrée aux souverains hongrois: Dum olim in scolari studio simul essemus et in hystoria Troiana, quam ego cum summo amore complexus ex libris Darethis Frigii ceterorumque auctorum, sicut a magistris meis audiveram, in unum volumen proprio stilo compilaveram, pari voluntate legeremus, petisti a me, ut, sicut hysto-

14 15 16 17 18

Virgile, ‘Bucoliques’, viii, 70. Cosmas, Chronik, i, ch. 4, 13. Cosmas, Chronik, i, ch. 4, 12–13. Szilagi (1938: 634). Gesta Hungarorum, prologue, 28: ‘P dictus magister ac quondam bone memorie gloriosissimi Bele regis Hungarie…’

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

233

riam Troianam bellaque Grecorum scripseram, ita et genealogiam regum Hungarie… tibi scriberem. Gesta Hungarorum, Prologue, 28

Pendant que, à l’école, nous nous appliquions ensemble à l’étude et que nous lisions poussés par une semblable volonté, dans l’histoire troyenne que, enflammé du plus grand amour, j’avais compilé en mon propre style et en un seul volume à partir des livres de Darès de Phrygie et d’autres auteurs, tels que je les avais entendus de mes maîtres, tu m’as demandé que, de même que j’avais écrit l’histoire troyenne et les guerres des Grecs, j’écrive aussi pour toi une généalogie des rois de Hongrie… Contrairement à Cosmas de Prague, le notaire anonyme ne fait pas de comparaison directe entre son récit et la guerre de Troie: l’usage de l’œuvre du PseudoDarès est donc avant tout stylistique et l’on remarque de fait un nombre significatif d’emprunts de cette nature dans les Gesta Hungarorum. En revanche, cette œuvre contient plusieurs références à l’Antiquité, en particulier à l’histoire des Scythes, des Perses et d’Alexandre le Grand, dont l’apparition est essentiellement liée au fait que le notaire anonyme considère que les Hongrois sont d’origine scythe:19 ces éléments viennent principalement de la Chronique de Réginon de Prüm et de l’Exordia Scythica, une œuvre haut-médiévale inspirée de l’Abrégé des Histoires Philippiques de Justin, ainsi que d’une œuvre consacrée au souverain macédonien que le chercheur hongrois László Veszprémy considère d’ailleurs comme la principale source d’inspiration stylistique du notaire anonyme.20 La mention dans le prologue du fait que le notaire anonyme et son énigmatique ami N. découvrirent l’Excidium Troiae du Pseudo-Darès sur les bancs de l’école a naturellement suscité l’intérêt des chercheurs, qui s’efforcèrent de déterminer le lieu du séjour d’études du chroniqueur. Durant la majeure partie du vingtième siècle les spécialistes considéraient que cette étape de la formation du notaire anonyme avait eu lieu en France, en raison notamment de la popularité de la théorie de l’origine troyenne des Francs ainsi que des nombreux liens existant alors entre le Royaume de France et celui de Hongrie. Depuis quelques décennies, grâce notamment à l’avancée des connaissances sur la diffusion de l’œuvre du Pseudo-Darès,21 cette théorie est toutefois remise en question par plusieurs chercheurs, au premier rang desquels il convient de 19 20 21

Voir par exemple Déer (1930: 246–250). Veszprémy (1995: 176). Voir aussi Thoroczkay (1999). Faivre d’Arcier (2006).

234

quéret-podesta

citer László Veszprémy, qui a ainsi démontré les analogies entre le texte du notaire anonyme et une copie de l’Excidium Troiae réalisée à Pise dans le premier quart du xiième siècle22 et se prononce en faveur d’une formation du chroniqueur dans la péninsule italienne.23 Il convient toutefois de constater que la question de la transmission de l’œuvre de Darés n’est que l’un des éléments de la théorie du chercheur hongrois, qui souligne également la présence dans la chronique d’autres éléments, comme des traces d’influence de l’ars dictaminis tel qu’on le pratiquait à Bologne24 ou bien la présence de certains lieux géographiques situés en Italie.25 De fait, comme dans le cas de l’œuvre du Gallus anonymus, l’usage de sources consacrées à la Guerre de Troie ne permet pas à lui seul de combler les lacunes concernant la biographie du chroniqueur.

3

Les sources relatant l’histoire de la Guerre de Troie comme ‘réservoir stylistique’ et source de comparaisons dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale

Ainsi que nous venons de le voir seules la Chronique des Tchèques et les Gesta Hungarorum du notaire anonyme contiennent de nombreux cas d’emprunt stylistique aux œuvres relatant l’histoire de la Guerre de Troie et de ses protagonistes. Dans l’œuvre de Cosmas les emprunts à des œuvres de ce type proviennent presque tous de l’Énéide de Virgile et se composent le plus souvent d’un vers ou d’un hémistiche, généralement avec quelques modifications, notamment syntaxiques. Si l’on excepte le cas particulier des prologues l’œuvre du chroniqueur praguois est la seule à contenir des références directes à la Guerre de Troie ainsi qu’à ses protagonistes: on dénombre ainsi huit cas de comparaisons entre des personnages ou des événements de l’histoire tchèque et des épisodes ou des personnages de la Guerre de Troie. Parmi ces huit cas de comparaison six concernent des personnages alors que seulement deux, à savoir l’allusion faite à l’incendie de Troie dans le plaidoyer attribué à Wirpirk de Tengeling, épouse du duc Conrad,26 et l’analogie entre le pillage de Troie et la confiscation des biens des Juifs de Bohême lors de leur

22 23 24 25 26

Veszprémy (2017: 8–12). Veszprémy (2017). Veszprémy (2017: 4–6). Voir par exemple Veszprémy (1998). Cosmas, Chronik, ii, ch. 45, 152.

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques tableau 11.1

Les références à l’histoire troyenne dans la Chronica Boemorum de Cosmas de Prague (hors prologue)

Passage de la Nature de la référence chronique i, 4 i, 40 ii, 1 ii, 43

ii, 45 iii, 5 iii, 19

iii, 20

235

Remarques sur les sources

Comparaison de Teta, sœur de Libuše, à Circé Comparaison du duc Břetislav à Ulysse, qui retrouve Achille Comparaison du duc Břetislav à Achille

Emprunt stylistique à Ovide, Métamorphoses, iv, 205 Pas d’emprunt clairement identifiable, influence possible de Stace. Pas d’emprunt clairement identifiable, influence possible de Stace. Comparaison du chevalier, Beneda, qui Emprunts stylistiques à Ovide, Métase battit contre le roi Vratislav, à Hector morphoses, xii, 17 et Virgile, Eneide, xi, et Turnus, le rival d’Énée 910 Comparaison de la situation de la Emprunt stylistique à Virgile, Eneide, ii, Bohème à l’incendie de Troie 581 Comparaison de l’expulsion des juifs de Emprunt stylistique à Virgile, Eneide, Bohème à la ruine de Troie notamment i, 602 et ix, 781 Comparaison du conflit à la guerre de Emprunt stylistique à Virgile, Eneide, ii, Troie, mention de Sinon et du Cheval 61 de Troie Comparaison des Hongrois à Cassandre Pas d’emprunt clairement identifiable.

fuite en 1098,27 font référence à des évènements sans mention de protagonistes individuels. En examinant d’un plus peu près les comparaisons entre les protagonistes du récit de Cosmas et ceux de la Guerre de Troie, on remarque que seuls deux des six cas de comparaisons se veulent clairement positifs: ces deux comparaisons positives présentent d’ailleurs une similitude notable, puisqu’elles se rapportent toutes deux au duc Břetislav ier, que Cosmas dépeint comme l’un des meilleurs souverains de la Bohême.28 Dans le premier cas, le chroniqueur fait une analogie entre l’enlèvement de Judith de Schweinfurt par Břetislav ier, la façon dont Ulysse retrouva Achille qui se cachait et l’enlèvement d’Hélène par Paris: le duc de Bohême est donc comparé à deux héros de la guerre de

27 28

Cosmas, Chronik, iii, ch. 5, 166. Antonín (2017: 144).

236

quéret-podesta

Troie et le chroniqueur affirme qu’il les surpasse tous les deux en courage et en audace.29 Le second cas de comparaison, qui se trouve au début du second livre, est également une comparaison multiple, puisque le duc est d’abord assimilé à un ‘nouvel Achille’ et un ‘nouveau Diomède’,30 avant d’être comparé un plus loin à des personnages bibliques (Gédéon, Samson, Salomon et Josué), qu’il surpasse ou égale dans des domaines aussi variés que la bravoure, la stature, la sagesse et les succès militaires.31 La comparaison avec Achille et Diomède, deux des plus valeureux guerriers de l’épopée troyenne, a également pour effet de mettre en avant les succès militaires de Břetislav ier, dont Cosmas nous dit qu’il surpassait ses ancêtres par ses prouesses, et de contribuer à le parer des toutes les vertus afin de faire de lui un modèle à suivre pour les autres souverains de Bohême. La première des quatre comparaisons négatives figure dans le quatrième chapitre du premier livre, où Libuše est assimilée à la sybille de Cumes, Kazi à Médée et Teta à Circé, dont Cosmas rappelle qu’elle transforma les compagnons d’Ulysse en animaux;32 le terme de malefica (ensorceleuse) attribué à Circé33 et Teta ne laisse guère de doute sur l’opinion du chroniqueur à propos de ces deux personnages. Il en va assez différemment dans le cas de la comparaison suivante, qui assimile Beneda, le chevalier qui se battit contre le roi Vratislav, à Hector et Turnus, le rival d’Énée:34 en effet, si elle ne saurait être considérée comme totalement négative, cette comparaison à des combattants valeureux mais finalement vaincus est clairement dépréciative.35 Un tel cas de figure n’est cependant pas unique dans l’œuvre de Cosmas puisque dans son récit de la Guerre des Jeunes filles il compare ces dernières aux Amazones, elles aussi finalement défaites.36 Les deux dernières comparaisons suivantes sont elles aussi quelque peu ambigües, puis qu’elles assimilent deux personnages, à savoir un homme du duc Svatopluk ier37 et le comes Wicpert,38 à deux personnages grecs, donc situés dans le camp des vainqueurs, mais qui achèvent leur dessein par la ruse: le premier de ces personnages est Sinon, cousin d’Ulysse qui se fit passer pour un 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

Cosmas, Chronik, i, ch. 40, 74. Cosmas, Chronik, ii, ch. 1, 81: ‘… sic novus Achilles, novus Titides…’ Cosmas, Chronik, ii, ch. 1, 82. Cosmas, Chronik, i, ch. 4, 12–13. Cosmas, Chronik, i, ch. 4, 13: ‘… malefica, ut Aeaeae Circes.’ Cosmas, Chronik, ii, ch. 40, 143. Antonín (2017: 145). Voir par exemple Quéret-Podesta (2021). Cosmas, Chronik, iii, ch. 19, 183. Cosmas, Chronik, iii, ch. 53, 226.

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

237

déserteur grec et convainquit les Troyens de faire entrer le gigantesque cheval offert aux dieux par les Grecs, alors que le second est Ulysse lui-même, dont l’ingéniosité est toutefois célébrée par le chroniqueur praguois dans son évocation de l’enlèvement de Judith de Schweinfurt par Břetislav ier.39 Cette double présence d’Ulysse, tantôt dans une comparaison positive, tantôt dans une combinaison négative, prouve clairement que les comparaisons concernent non pas les personnages dans leur entièreté mais bien certaines vertus ou certains défauts qui leur sont attribués: dans le cas présent, la ruse dont font preuve les protagonistes est clairement présentée comme un trait négatif par le chroniqueur. La présence d’emprunts stylistiques au Pseudo-Darès dans les Gesta Hungarorum du notaire anonyme est un phénomène connu de longue date, puisque les érudits hongrois du dix-huitième siècle l’avaient déjà signalé; de plus, l’auteur lui-même présentant l’Excidium Troiae comme son modèle stylistique dans son prologue, l’existence de traces d’utilisation de cette œuvre est tout sauf surprenant. Ces emprunts sont le plus souvent très brefs, généralement quelques mots, et concernent parfois des expressions relativement répandues, ce qui peut créer des incertitudes dans l’identification de l’origine de certaines locutions. L’un de cas les plus frappants d’emprunts stylistiques du notaire anonyme au Pseudo-Darès concerne l’utilisation des descriptions des Troyens et des Grecs, qui figurent dans les douzième et treizième chapitres de l’Excidium Troiae, pour la composition des portraits des princes hongrois Álmos,40 Zulta (Zolta)41 et Tocsun (Taksony).42 Une comparaison détaillée des deux textes permet de constater la présence de nombreux emprunts à l’œuvre du Pseudo-Darès aussi bien dans la description physique que pour les traits de caractère: par ailleurs, et bien que certaines caractéristiques soient attribuées à plusieurs personnages troyens et grecs, ce qui rend l’identification des personnages que le notaire anonyme utilise pour ses descriptions d’Álmos, de Zolta et de Taksony assez épineuse, il apparait clairement que les trois portraits sont composés à partir d’éléments empruntés à différents protagonistes de l’Excidium Troiae. Dans les trois descriptions, l’auteur emprunte des caractéristiques à plusieurs personnages (quatre ou cinq dans le premier portrait, au moins une demi-douzaine dans le second et vraisemblablement quatre dans le dernier, qui est beaucoup plus court) et on 39 40 41 42

Cosmas, Chronik, i, ch. 40, 74. Gesta Hungarorum, ch. 4. Gesta Hungarorum, ch. 53. Gesta Hungarorum, ch. 55.

238

quéret-podesta

tableau 11.2

Les portraits des Troyens et des Grecs chez le Pseudo-Darès comme source aux descriptions des souverains hongrois dans les Gesta Ungarorum du notaire anonyme

Gesta Ungarorum du notaire anonyme

Pseudo-Darès de Phrygie, De excidio Trojae Historia

Portrait du prince Álmos ch. 4: Erat enim ipse Almus facie decorus sed niger, et nigros habebat oculos, sed magnos, statura longus, et gracilis. Manus vero habebat grossas, et digitos prolixos, et erat ipse Almus pius, benevolus, largus, sapiens bonus miles…

Portrait des Troyens et des Grecs, ch. 12 et 13: Castor et Pollux… oculis magnis… Aeneam… oculis hilaribus et nigris… Polyxenam… digitis prolixis…

Portrait du prince Zolta, ch. 53: Et successit ei filius suus Zulta, similis patri moribus, dissimilis natura. Fuit enim dux Zulta parum blasus et candidus, capillo molli et flavo, statura mediocri, dux bellicosus, animo fortis, sed in civibus clemens, voce suaui, sed cupidus imperii…

Portrait des Troyens, ch. 12 et 13: Deiphobum et Helenum similes patri, dissimiles natura… Hectorem blaesum, candidum… bellicosum, animo magnum, civibus clementem Alexandrum… capillo molli et flavo, ore venusto, voce suavi, velocem, cupidum imperii… Cassandram mediocri statura…

Palamedem gracilem, longum, sapientem…

Menelaum mediocri statura… Merionem rufum mediocri statura… Briseidam… capillo flavo et molli. Portrait du prince Taksony, ch. 55: … Tocsun, pulchris oculis et magnis, capilli nigri et molles, comam habebat ut leo…

Portrait des Troyens, ch. 12 et 13: … fuissent Castor et Pollux. Fuerunt autem […] oculis magnis… Alexandrum… oculis pulcherrimis capillo molli et flavo, Aiacem Telamonium valentem… capillis nigris coma crispa… Briseidam… capillo flavo et molli.

remarque que les personnages dont il reprend des éléments sont tantôt des Grecs, tantôt des Troyens; par ailleurs, l’auteur emprunte aussi au moins une caractéristique (les longs doigts de Polyxène) à un personnage féminin, bien que les trois protagonistes qu’il décrit soient des hommes. L’usage des descriptions des Troyens et des Grecs figurant dans l’Excidium Troiae par le notaire anonyme se caractérise donc par un grand pragmatisme.

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

239

En revanche, ces emprunts à des protagonistes variés et l’absence d’analogies poussées prouve que l’auteur des Gesta Hungarorum ne cherche pas, au contraire de Cosmas de Prague, à comparer explicitement ses personnages aux héros de la Guerre de Troie afin de rehausser leurs mérites; plus qu’un réservoir de modèles, le texte du Pseudo-Darès semble donc constituer pour le notaire anonyme une sorte de ‘boite de Legos’ stylistique dans laquelle il prend les pièces dont il a besoin.

4

La fonction de l’Histoire de Troie dans les prologues des chroniques

Ainsi que nous l’avons souligné plus haut, les trois chroniques étudiées ici évoquent toutes la Guerre de Troie dans leurs prologues, que ceux-ci soient situés au début des œuvres ou au commencement d’un des livres de celles-ci; ces références sont par ailleurs assez brèves, puisqu’elles se composent de deux phrases dans le récit du Gallus anonymus et d’une seule dans les deux autres chroniques. On remarque toutefois une différence notable: en effet, si la chronique du Gallus anonymus se concentre sur le souvenir de la guerre de Troie, l’œuvre de Cosmas et celle du notaire anonyme mentionnent essentiellement leurs sources sur l’histoire troyenne. Comme indiqué précédemment, les deux phrases consacrées à Troie dans le prologue du troisième livre de la chronique du Gallus anonymus sont insérées au sein d’un passage visant à souligner l’importance de l’écriture du passé grâce à plusieurs exemples tirés de l’histoire antique. Dans la première de ces deux phrases, le chroniqueur anonyme affirme que la célèbre cité a été sauvée de l’oubli par les œuvres des poètes alors que dans la seconde, il ajoute pour appuyer son propos que Troie, désormais en ruines, est célébrée par les ouvrages écrits et qu’Hector ainsi que Priam sont davantage évoqués maintenant qu’ils sont redevenus poussière qu’à l’époque où ils commandaient. Dans cette deuxième phrase le Gallus anonymus fait également une description très précise de la ruine d’Illion, puisqu’il rapporte que les murs sont rasés, les tours détruites, que les édifices vastes et confortables ne sont plus habités par les hommes et que les bêtes sauvages se servent des palais ruinés des rois et des princes comme de tanières. Ainsi que le souligne le chercheur polonais Witold Wojtowicz, cette évocation particulièrement poignante a pour fonction de frapper l’esprit du lecteur en faisant appel à ses facultés de représentation, créant ainsi une ‘image mémorielle’ de Troie.43 43

Wojtowicz (2018).

240

quéret-podesta

Le second prologue au premier livre de Cosmas et le prologue des Gesta Hungarorum du notaire ne contiennent quant à eux pas de référence directe au destin d’Illion, mais mentionnent plusieurs ouvrages relatant la Guerre de Troie. En effet, le chroniqueur praguois affirme avoir composé sa chronique afin qu’elle serve de matériau à Gervasius, le clerc à qu’il dédicace le second prologue du premier livre,44 et à d’autres clercs ‘plus savants’45 que Cosmas afin que, ‘comme Virgile l’a fait avec la chute de Troie et Stace avec les Eacides, ils prennent mon œuvre comme matière, édifient les générations futures par leur savoir et rendent leur nom mémorable pour les siècles à venir.’46 Ainsi que le souligne fort justement le chercheur tchèque Robert Antonin, cette phrase, qui met en exergue la valeur littéraire de l’Eneide et de l’Achilleide, est un exemple clair de topos de modestie. Le fait de présenter les deux œuvres antiques cités comme des modèles permet ainsi au chroniqueur, qui se présente comme inférieur à la fois à ses contemporains et aux auteurs antiques, d’insister sur la grande humilité avec laquelle il compose son œuvre.47 Ce motif de la source de l’histoire troyenne comme modèle pour le chroniqueur figure également dans le prologue des Gesta Hungarorum du notaire anonyme, puisque ce dernier indique tout d’abord qu’il a étudié l’œuvre du Pseudo-Darès ainsi que celles d’auteurs antiques traitant de la Guerre de Troie et ajoute que son ami N., à qui il s’adresse, lui a demandé de composer une œuvre historiographique consacrée aux souverains hongrois sur le modèle de ‘l’histoire troyenne et des guerres des Grecs’.48 Le fait que le Pseudo-Darès soit mentionné explicitement et la présence de nombreux emprunts stylistiques à son récit ainsi que de similitudes structurelles dans les Gesta Hungarorum prouvent clairement que l’Excidium Troiae constitue clairement une source d’inspiration importante pour le notaire anonyme. L’analyse du prologue démontre toutefois que l’auteur ne fait aucune comparaison entre la valeur littéraire de son œuvre et celle du récit du Pseudo-Darès, qui apparait donc essentiellement comme une source d’inspiration sur le plan stylistique.

44 45 46

47 48

Cosmas, Chronik, i, second prologue, 2: ‘… vel tu, cui a Deo collata est sapientia…’ Cosmas, Chronik, i, second prologue, 2: ‘… vel alii potiores scientia’. Cosmas, Chronik, i, second prologue, 2–3: ‘… sicut Vergilius habuit Troiae Excidia, et Statius Aeacida, ita ipsa hoc meum opus habeant pro materia, quo et suam scientiam posteris notificent et nomen sibi memoriale in secula magnificent.’ Antonin (2017: 142). Voir aussi Švanda (2009). Gesta Hungarorum, prologue: ‘sicut hystoriam Troianam bellaque Grecorum…’

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

5

241

Conclusion

L’analyse de la place et de la fonction de l’histoire troyenne dans les plus anciennes chroniques conservées pour l’Europe Centrale permet de constater de grandes divergences dans la relation que les trois chroniques étudiées entretiennent avec l’histoire de Troie et avec les sources qui la relatent. Ainsi, la Chronique du Gallus anonymus n’évoque l’histoire troyenne que dans un bref passage destiné à démontrer l’importance de l’écriture de l’histoire mais dont les sources demeurent difficiles à établir alors que la Chronique des Tchèques de Cosmas de Prague comporte de nombreux emprunts stylistiques à l’Énéide, mentionne cette source ainsi que l’Achilléide de Stace dans son prologue, où elles sont élevées au rang de modèle, et comporte plusieurs cas de comparaisons entre les évènements de Bohême et certains de ses protagonistes de la Chronique et les épisodes ainsi que les personnages de la Guerre de Troie. Quant aux Gesta Hungarorum du notaire anonyme, elles contiennent un certain nombre d’emprunts stylistiques à l’Excidium Troiae du Pseudo-Darès de Phrygie, dont l’œuvre est mentionnée comme modèle dans le prologue des Gesta Hungarorum; en revanche, le notaire anonyme ne fait pas de comparaison directe entre les faits relatés et l’histoire troyenne. Le chroniqueur inconnu ne compare pas non plus les héros de son récit à ceux de la guerre de Troie, mais il emprunte des traits physiques et moraux aux protagonistes de l’Excidium Troiae pour composer les descriptions des princes hongrois Álmos, Zolta et Taksony. Ces divergences sont naturellement à mettre en relation avec la place que chaque chroniqueur accorde à l’histoire et aux auteurs antiques. En effet, le Gallus anonymus ne fait que peu de références directes à l’histoire antique et la plupart de ses emprunts stylistiques proviennent des œuvres de Salluste, alors que Cosmas fait davantage d’allusions à l’Antiquité et que ses emprunts aux auteurs classiques sont nombreux et proviennent d’œuvres variées,49 dont il a pu avoir connaissance par des commentaires et des florilèges;50 quant au notaire anonyme, son rapport à l’Antiquité se caractérise par une relation assez pragmatique aux textes antiques ainsi que par l’usage de sources généralement brèves, en prose et rédigées au haut Moyen Age, l’Excidium Troiae faisant ici figure d’exception. Ces attitudes assez diverses vis-à-vis de l’Antiquité et des auteurs classiques s’expliquent naturellement par la nature des sources à la dis-

49 50

Švanda (2009). Švanda (2009: 333).

242

quéret-podesta

position des chroniqueurs ainsi que par leur formation intellectuelle,51 puisque le notaire anonyme a tout d’abord rencontré l’Excidium Troiae comme manuel scolaire alors que rien n’indique une connaissance de cette œuvre chez le Gallus anonymus ou Cosmas de Prague. Malgré l’existence de ces différences, on remarque également plusieurs analogies importantes. Ainsi, il convient de constater qu’à l’exception du Pergama flere volo, cité parmi les sources potentielles du Gallus anonymus, toutes les sources utilisées par les trois chroniqueurs datent de l’Antiquité et sont déjà largement utilisées au haut Moyen Age, bien que l’Excidum Troiae connaisse un regain de popularité à partir du douzième siècle. Les œuvres produites à l’occasion de la ‘manie de Troie’ qui touche l’Occident médiéval dès la seconde moitié du onzième siècle et s’intensifie encore au siècle suivant n’eurent donc visiblement que peu, voire pas d’influence sur la réception de l’histoire de Troie dans l’historiographie de l’Europe centrale au douzième siècle. Par ailleurs, ainsi que cela a été souligné par les spécialistes, aucune des trois chroniques ne présente de trace de tentative d’attribution d’une origine troyenne aux protagonistes. Ce phénomène n’apparait d’ailleurs en Europe Centrale qu’au bas Moyen Age, puisque la première attribution d’une origine troyenne à un peuple de cette région au sein d’une œuvre historiographique y ayant été produite apparait dans le récit généalogique sur l’origine des Polonais figurant au début de la chronique dite de Dzierzwa, rédigée au début du quatorzième siècle: l’auteur, vraisemblablement un franciscain de Cracovie, insère ainsi la lignée d’Anchise et d’Enée dans une généalogie visiblement tirée d’une tabula populorum présentant des analogies avec celle figurant notamment dans l’Historia Brittonum de Nennius.52 Au-delà de l’absence de tentative d’incorporation de l’histoire troyenne au récit du passé national, la réception de l’histoire de Troie dans les plus anciennes chroniques d’Europe Centrale se caractérise avant tout par un rapport assez pragmatique, qui se traduit de diverses manières dans les textes étudiés. Les sources traitant de l’histoire de Troie, comme l’Eneide, l’Achilleide ou l’Excidum Troiae, sont ainsi vues comme des modèles stylistiques par Cosmas de Prague et le notaire anonyme hongrois, alors que le chroniqueur praguois compare en plusieurs occasions des épisodes et personnages de la Guerre de Troie à des évènements et protagonistes de l’histoire tchèque; enfin, le Gallus anonymus utilise le cas de la préservation de la mémoire de Troie par les textes pour justifier le besoin d’écrire le passé. 51 52

L’auteur tient à remercier le professeur Dániel Bági pour avoir souligné ce point lors de la discussion qui a suivi la présentation de la communication. Banaszkiewicz (1977: 94).

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

243

A la lumière de ces différents constats, on peut donc dire que les débuts de la réception de l’histoire de Troie dans l’Europe Centrale du douzième siècle sont liés en grande partie à l’importance des auteurs classiques dans la formation des intellectuels médiévaux et, dans une moindre mesure, au regain de popularité de l’histoire de Troie dans l’Occident médiéval à cette période. L’Europe Centrale semble donc être avoir été initialement peu touchée par la ‘manie de Troie’, mais l’histoire troyenne parait tout de même avoir suscité l’intérêt parmi les élites de la région au bas Moyen Age, comme en témoignent par exemple la présence en Bohême de plusieurs manuscrits de l’Historia destructionis Troiae de Guido delle Collonne ainsi que de traductions de cette œuvre en tchèque.53

Bibliographie Sources Baebii Italici Ilias Latina. Éd. et trad. Marco Scaffai. Bologne: Pàtron, 1982 (Édition accompagnée d’une traduction en langue italienne). [Cosmas of Prague] Cosmae Pragensis Chronica Bohemorum. Ed. J.M. Bak and P. Rychterová, trans. into English by P. Mutlová, M. Rady and L. Švanda. Budapest/New York: ceu Press, 2020. Noté Cosmas, Chronica, [Livre, chapitre, pages]. [Cosmas of Prague] Die Chronik der Böhmen des Cosmas von Prag. mgh, Scriptores rerum Germanicarum Nova Series, 2. Éd. Berthold Bretholz. Berlin: Weidmann, 1923. Daretis Phrygii De excidio Troiae Historia. Éd. Ferdinand Meister. Leipzig: B.G. Teubner, 1873. Dyctis Cretensis Ephimeridos belli troiani libri 6. Éd. Ferdinand Meister. Leipzig: B.G. Teubner, 1872. Die ‘Gesta Hungarorum’ des anonymen Notars: die älteste Darstellung der ungarischen Geschichte. Éd. et trad. László Veszprémy et Gabriel Silagi. Sigmaringen: Jan Thorbecke Verlag, 1991. ‘Exordio Scythica’. Éd. Theodor Mommsen, Chronica Minora Saec. iv. v. vi. vii., t. ii. mgh, aa xi. Berlin: Weidmann, 1894. 308–322. Galli Anonymi Chronicae et Gesta ducum sive principum Polonorum. mph, series nova, tome 2. Éd. Karol Maleczyński. Cracovie: Polska Akademia Umiejętności, 1952. Reginonis Abbatis Prumensis Chronicon cum Continuatione Trevirensi. mgh, Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum in usum scholarum separatim editi, 50, Éd. Friedrich Kurze. Hanovre: Hahn, 1890.

53

Robert (2017: 168); Bláhová (2021: 144–145).

244

quéret-podesta

‘Spisy dawne skarbca i biblioteki kapitulnej krakowskiej’ (Anciens inventaires du trésor et de la bibliothèque du chapitre cathédral de Cracovie). Éd. August Bielowski. mph, t. i, 377, n° ii. Lvi’v: autoédition, 1864. Stace, Achilléide. Éd. et trad. J. Méheust. Paris: Belles Lettres, 1971. ‘Vers sur la ruine de Troie’ (Pergama flere volo). Dans Poesos popularis ante saeculum duodecim latine decantatae reliquis. Poésie populaires latines antérieures au douzième siècle. Éd. Édélstand du Méris. Paris, Brockhaus et Avenarius, 1843. 309–313. Virgile. Bucoliques. Éd. et trad. E. de Saint-Denis. Paris: Belles Lettres, 1942. Virgile. Eneide. 2 vols. Éd. et trad. J. Perret. Paris: Belles Lettres, 1977–1978.

Études Antonín, Robert (2017). The ideal ruler in Medieval Bohemia. East Central and Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages, 450–1450, vol. 44. Leiden: Brill Bági, Dániel (2008). Królowie węgierscy w Kronice Galla Anonima (Les rois hongrois dans la Chronique du Gallus Anonymus). Cracovie: Wydawnictwo Polskiej Akademii-Umiejętności. Banaszkiewicz, Jacek (1977). ‘Kronika Dzierzwy – problem wykładu dziejów ojczystych w xiv wieku’ (La chronique de Dzierzwa – Le problème de l’explication de l’histoire nationale au xivème siècle). Studia źródłoznawcze (Etudes pour la connaissance des sources) 22: 89–95. Bláhová, Marie (2021). ‘Historická literatura na dvoře Václava iv’ (La littérature historique à la cour de Wenceslas iv). Dans Panovnická reprezentace v písemné kultuře ve středověku: Sborník prací k životnímu jubileu profesora Ivana Hlaváčka (La représentation du souverain dans la culture écrite au Moyen Age: recueil de travaux pour le professeur Ivan Hlaváček). Ed. Marie Bláhová, Mlada Holá, Klára Woitschová. Prague: Karolinum Press. 135–149. Déer, József (1930). ‘Szkitia leírása a Gesta Ungarorumban’ (La description de la Scythie dans les Gesta Ungarorum). Magyar könyvszemle (Études livresques hongroises) 37: 243–263. Faivre d’Arcier, Louis (2006). Histoire et géographie d’un mythe. La circulation des manuscrits du De excidio Troiae de Darès le Phrygien (viiie-xve siècles). Mémoires et documents de l’École des Chartes, 82. Paris: École nationale des Chartes. Jasiński, Tomasz (2005). ‘Czy Gall Anonim to Monachus Littorensis ?’ (Est-ce que le Gaulois anonyme est le Monachus Littorensis?). Kwartalnik historyczny (Trimestriel historique) 112/3: 69–89. Quéret-Podesta, Adrien (2015). ‘Travaux philologiques, recherches textuelles et identification des auteurs anonymes dans la médiévistique du xixe siecle: l’exemple du Gallus Anonymus.’ Dans Naissance de la médiévistique. Les historiens et leurs sources en Europe (xixe-début du xxe siècle). Ed. Isabelle Guyot-Bachy et Jean-Marie Moeglin. Nancy, Paris: Droz. 269–284.

la ‘matière de troie’ dans les plus anciennes chroniques

245

Quéret-Podesta, Adrien (2021). ‘Genre et transgression du genre dans le récit de la Guerre des jeunes filles chez Cosmas de Prague.’ Frontières. Revue d’archéologie, histoire et histoire de l’art 5 (revue en ligne sans pagination). Švanda, Libor (2009). ‘K recepci antiky v Kosmově Kronice’ (Sur la réception des auteurs antiques dans la Chronique de Cosmas). Graeco-Latina Brunensia 14: 331– 340. Szilagi, Lóránt (1938). ‘De aetate ac persona P. Magistri, Anonymi Belae Regis notarii.’ 2 vols. Sciptores Rerum Hungaricarum. Budapest: Nap Kiadó, 1999 (2ème édition). ii, 631–634. Thoroczkay, Gábor (1999). ‘Anonymus latin nyelvű külföldi forrásai (Historiográfiai áttekintés) (Les sources latines étrangères du notaire anonyme [Panorama historiographique]).’ Turul 72: 108–117. Tilliette, Jean-Yves (1999). ‘Troiae ab oris. Aspects de la révolution poétique de la seconde moitié du xie siècle.’ Latomus 58: 405–431. Veszprémy, László (1995). ‘Névtelenek, krónikák. (Árpád-kori történeti irodalmunk újabb stilusproblémái)’ (Anonymes, chroniques [Nouveaux problèmes de notre littérature historique d’époque arpadienne]). Recension de Gyula Kristó, A történeti irodalom a Magyaroszágon a kezdetektól 1241-ig (La littérature historique en Hongrie des débuts à 1241). Budapest, 1994. Budapest könyvszemle (Études livresques de Budapest) 7/2: 172–176. Veszprémy, László (1998). ‘Megjegyzések az Anonymus-Gestában előforduló néhány nem magyarországi helynévről (A Senones-kérdés)’ (Notes sur quelques noms de lieux non hongrois dans les Gesta du notaire anonyme [La question du terme Senones]). Magyar Nyelv (La langue hongroise) 94: 165–169. Veszprémy, László (2005). ‘Anonymus Itáliában?’ (Le notaire anonyme en Italie?). Századok 139/2: 335–351. Veszprémy, László (2017). ‘Anonymus, az ‘Excidium Troiae’ és a xii. századi reneszánsz’ (Le notaire anonyme, l’ ‘Excidium Troiae’ et la renaissance du douzième siècle). Acta Historica 142: 3–16. Wojtowicz, Witold (2018). ‘Obraz memorialny Troi u Galla Anonima i jego konteksty’ (L’image mémorielle de Troie chez le Gallus anonymus et ses contextes). Dans Przeszłość w kulturze średniowiecznej Polski (Le passé dans la culture de la Pologne médiévale), t. 1. Ed. Jacek Banaszkiewicz, Andrzej Dąbrówka et Piotr Węcowski. Varsovie: Wydanictwo Neriton. 127–142.

12 Martin of Opava and Dominican Understandings of Imperial Power in the Later Middle Ages Elisabeth Rolston

Abstract The Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum of the Dominican friar Martin of Opava (†1278) proved to be one of the most popular and influential universal chronicles of the later Middle Ages. Scholarly attention to date has focused predominantly on the reasons for the Chronicon’s success, particularly the utility of its tabular format and its widespread influence on later chronicles throughout western Europe. A growing body of research on concepts of empire in the later Middle Ages that draws on universal chronicles in particular opens up new possibilities for the study of Martin’s Chronicon. As a universal papal-imperial chronicle that informed a number of later works of history, the Chronicon is a valuable source for understanding how the empire was perceived in the thirteenth century. This article explores how Martin constructed the Chronicon in accordance with his vision of the dual rule of Christendom by pope and emperor and compares his approach to other Dominican chroniclers in the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. Martin’s commitment to an equal sharing of authority between pope and emperor and his interest in the pastoral elements of the imperial office set him apart even from his contemporaries in the Order of Preachers.

1

Introduction

Martinus Polonus, better known today as Martin of Opava or Martin of Troppau, was one of the most important historians of the later Middle Ages. His papal-imperial chronicle, the Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum, compiled in several recensions between 1268–1277, proved immensely popular throughout Western Europe: it survives in over 500 extant manuscripts and was translated into multiple languages.1 The success of the chronicle is further illustrated by the number of continuations made to it and its importance as a key 1 Von den Brincken (2010: 1085–1087). For an example of the use of Martin’s work in later chronicles, see the article by Jelmar Hugen and Anna de Bruyn in this volume.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_013

martin of opava and dominican understandings

247

source for countless later chroniclers. Anna-Dorothee von den Brincken, who has worked extensively on the Chronicon, notes that it was ‘more widely read, copied, continued and translated than any other historical work of the period, and there are few major universal histories of the subsequent centuries which did not use it as a source.’2 Martin’s chronicle therefore played a major role in shaping knowledge of papal and imperial history throughout later medieval Europe. Martin’s reputation in modern historiography, however, is a far cry from his reception by contemporaries and immediate successors. Scholars have often characterized Martin’s chronicle as derivative, inaccurate and boring. Its nineteenth-century editor, Ludwig Weiland, set the tone by referring to the Chronicon as ‘the work of a most worthless compiler’.3 Martin’s reputation fared little better over time. Dan Embree offered an overview of scholarly criticism of Martin in 1999, concluding that ‘the negative judgments are entirely deserved’.4 Embree does, however, concede that Martin ‘remains an important medieval writer’ due to his popularity and influence in the later Middle Ages.5 Overall, scholars have tended to engage with Martin on the grounds of his medieval importance rather than any perceived merit in his work.6 Anna-Dorothee von den Brincken stands out with a positive assessment of Martin’s worth, referring to the success of the Chronicon’s tabular format as a ‘didactic masterpiece’.7 This will strike a familiar chord with any scholar who works with medieval chronicles, with older historiography dismissing them as biased, inaccurate and derivative.8 In recent decades, however, the value of medieval chronicles as sources in their own right has been more fully recognized. Pioneering work by scholars such as Bernard Guenée established the creative and deliberate nature of medieval chronicle compilation,9 which in turn reflected the chronicler’s worldview and priorities. Recent scholarship on medieval chronicles has highlighted their value as mirrors for the societies and individuals that produced them.10 Chronicle-based research offers the opportunity to challenge teleological narratives that have dominated the study of the concept of empire in the 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Von den Brincken (2010: 1087). Weiland (1872: 397). Embree (1999: 2). Embree (1999: 2). For a more recent study of his influence on English chroniclers, see Ikas (2001: 327–341). Von den Brincken (2014). On this see Lake (2015: 89), and Burrow (2007: 464). Guenée (1985: 126). See also Chazan (2006: 223–256). See Goetz (2013: 25–33); Given-Wilson (2004: xix–xxiii); and Lake (2015: 89–109).

248

rolston

late-medieval west. Chris Jones, who has played a key role in developing this approach, notes that ‘chronicles can offer a useful corrective to the traditional tendency to write histories of political thought based largely upon the views of university masters and lawyers.’11 Such histories downplayed the continued importance of the empire in the later Middle Ages in favour of tracing the emergence of the nation-state.12 Scholarship on late-medieval perceptions of the empire that has moved outside these theoretical texts to make use of more widely-circulating sources such as chronicles has found that the empire continued to hold an important role in the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century worldview.13 Papal-imperial chronicles such as Martin’s, as Heike Johanna Mierau has demonstrated, are particularly valuable for understanding the medieval construction of a continuous and unbroken history of the Roman Empire.14 Scholarly interest in how chronicles and other medieval historiography engaged with the concept of empire is growing.15 This article makes a further contribution to our understanding of the way the empire was represented in the later Middle Ages by exploring how imperial history is presented in the Chronicon, identifying Martin’s key concerns in the way he depicted particular emperors and events. It then places Martin’s work in the context of the Dominican historiographical tradition, comparing his approach with near contemporaries in the Order of Preachers. In doing so this article also explores the political ideas of the medieval Dominican Order, the historiography of which has a tendency to focus on the thought of the Order’s key theologians as opposed to its extensive body of encyclopedic projects.16 These encyclopedic projects, including Martin’s Chronicon as well as other major works of compilation such as Vincent of Beauvais’s Speculum maius and Jacobus de Voragine’s Legenda aurea, are important elements of the Dominican contribution to the intellectual life of late-medieval Europe that have only recently been recognized as such.17 Despite its modern reputation as unimaginative and derivative, Martin’s

11 12 13

14 15 16

17

Jones (2015a: 126). For a recent example of scholarship that combines different approaches to medieval political thought, see Barthélemy et al. (2020). Watts (2009: 29–30). See, for example, Chazan (1999) and Jones (2007; 2015a: 153–189; 2017: 319–353). For the continued use of empire and papacy as a framework for late-medieval historiography, see Sprandel (2012: 157–179). Mierau (2005: 543–573 and 2006: 281–312). For some recent examples, see Leite (2020: 131–148) and Fernández-Ordóñez (2020: 1–32). M. Michèle Mulchahey notes that the Dominicans ‘are often characterized as having deployed themselves in the vanguard of the new philosophical movements which comprised so much of the intellectual history of the thirteenth century’ (1998: 54). Mulchahey discusses these three works as important encyclopedic projects produced by

martin of opava and dominican understandings

249

Chronicon, as this article demonstrates, was a carefully constructed narrative that emphasized the equal nature of spiritual and temporal power. Martin’s particular vision of the role of the empire in the governance of Christendom, while deeply conventional and conservative, is nevertheless distinct from that of other chroniclers and compilers within the Dominican Order.

2

Martin’s Concept of Empire

As Von den Brincken’s work has emphasized, Martin’s Chronicon utilized a unique tabular format that his successors ultimately failed to imitate.18 Popes and emperors appeared in entries side by side on facing pages, with the length of each entry corresponding to the length of the pontificate or reign. This format made it an exceptionally useful referencing tool and Von den Brincken attributes its popularity to the effectiveness of the layout.19 The effect of the tabular format is not only the production of an effective and easy-to-use reference tool for Christian history, however: the side-by-side layout presents papacy and empire as—literally—two sides of the same story. This is not simply a by-product of the format chosen for the Chronicon. Throughout his work Martin makes it clear that papacy and empire are the two axes upon which Christendom turn, with each playing a vital and clearly defined role in the governance of the world. The parity shown between papacy and empire can be seen from the very beginning of the Chronicon. In his introduction Martin outlines the aim of the chronicle to document the rule of the city of Rome through the spiritual and temporal powers.20 He notes that, following the birth of Christ, Tunc concurrerunt duo regimina Romane urbis et tocius orbis, pontificale et imperiale: pontificale regimen per Christum, imperiale per Octavi-

18 19 20

the early Order (1998: 465–472). Jacques Le Goff has done valuable work in this area in his study of the Legenda aurea, categorising Jacobus as an intellectual by virtue of ‘his works, his ideas, and his influence’ (2014: 5). For the use of Martin and Vincent’s work by the theologian John of Paris, see Jones (2015b: 77–111 and, for an updated version, 2018: 153–187). Von den Brincken (2014). Von den Brincken (2014). ‘Consequenter agendum est de duplici regimine Urbis, scilicet de spirituali, quod fuit per pontifices, et temporali, quod fuit per imperatores’ (Chronicon, 406). For ease of reference the 1872 edition by Ludwig Weiland will be used here, though Von den Brincken’s new 2014 edition, which conserves Martin’s original tabular format, is available in a preliminary online version: https://data.mgh.de/ext/epub/mt/.

250

rolston

anum. Hii sunt duo gladii, videlicet materialis et spiritualis, qui sufficiunt ad regimen ecclesie. Chronicon, 406

Two regimes of the city of Rome and the whole world, the pontifical and the imperial, ran together: the pontifical regime through Christ, the imperial through Octavian. These are the two swords, namely the material and the spiritual, which are sufficient for the rule of the church.21 In these comments Martin clearly aligns himself with the traditional ‘two swords’ theory of spiritual and temporal power,22 which is maintained throughout the chronicle. He begins his chronicle with Christ and Augustus, explaining that pontifical rule of Rome and the world began with Christ, while the imperial reign began with Augustus as the first emperor.23 In this explanation he differs from two of his more recent sources, Vincent of Beauvais and Gilbert of Rome. Martin made considerable use of Vincent’s vast Speculum historiale, produced by this fellow Dominican in the 1250s. While framing his entries around imperial reigns, Vincent chose Julius Caesar, rather than Augustus, as the first emperor.24 Meanwhile Gilbert of Rome’s papal-imperial chronicle, which Martin acknowledges in the list of sources he consulted,25 offers a different rationale for choosing Augustus as the starting point for its imperial section: the emperor was simply cotemporaneous with Christ.26 Both Martin’s choice to begin with Augustus and his rationale for it appear to be conscious and deliberate shifts away from his most recent sources. Martin’s comments on the reigns of particular emperors demonstrate his adherence to patristic ideas of emperorship. The Chronicon notes which rulers expanded the territory of the empire, beginning with Augustus, who earned his name because he enlarged the empire,27 and going on to praise Trajan,

21 22 23

24 25 26 27

All translations are mine unless otherwise indicated. For an introduction to this theory see Robinson (1988: 302–303). ‘Et pontificale quidem regimen incepit Urbis et orbis a Christo primum, qui fuit pontifex presencium et futurum bonorum; imperiale vero regimen incepit ab Octaviano, qui primus fuit imperator et augustus Urbis et orbis’ (Chronicon, 406). Speculum historiale, 5.117.172. That Vincent identifies Julius Caesar as the first emperor was noted by Jones (2017: 323). ‘Item ex chronicis Gilberti de gestis utrorumque’ (Chronicon, 408). ‘Incipiens a Christo, qui fuit primus et summus pontifex, et ab Octaviano Augusto, qui eius tempore imperavit’ (Gilbert of Rome, Chronicon, 122). ‘… tunc primum Augustus eo, quod rem publicam auxerit, a Romanis est salutatus’, Martin of Opava, Chronicon, 444.

martin of opava and dominican understandings

251

Theodosius and Justinian ii for doing the same during their reigns.28 His interest in conquest suggests that he saw it as an important aspect of the Christian emperor’s role, reflecting patristic ideas that promoted imperial expansion for the sake of spreading Christianity. In addition Martin shows the emperor acting as the ‘material sword’ of Christendom in the dispensation of secular justice,29 praising rulers such as Hadrian and Justinian who developed and codified law.30 In describing the ‘two swords’ of papacy and empire in his introduction, Martin is not simply employing a standard, formulaic description of the two powers but expressing, from the beginning, his genuine vision for the relationship between empire and papacy. Martin moves beyond the presentation of the imperial role as simply the strong arm of Christendom, establishing the emperor as an important spiritual leader working alongside the pope. The entries on Pope Sylvester and Constantine i offer a good example of Martin’s ideal papal-imperial relationship. He offers the popular conversion story for Constantine that sees the emperor healed of leprosy by Sylvester himself and subsequently baptised.31 Pope and emperor then worked together for the promotion of Christianity in Rome, with Constantine’s newfound faith driving him to build marvellous churches which so inspired the people that ‘nullam in corde suo circa fidem Christi esse dubietatem vel preteriti erroris remansisse vestigia.’32 Sylvester and Constantine feature extensively in each other’s entries in the Chronicon, despite Martin’s original side-by-side format leaving little need for cross-referencing between papal and imperial material. Throughout Constantine’s entry Sylvester is shown acting as the agent through which the emperor comes to faith and as supportive of his subsequent acts of piety. Similarly, in the papal section Martin includes Sylvester’s healing and baptism of Constantine, and then dedicates considerable space to Constantine’s foundation of churches in Rome.33 Having established Constantine as the ideal first Christian emperor, Martin is then at pains to dismiss the idea of his Arian baptism as false.34 From here

28 29 30

31 32 33 34

For Trajan: 446; for Theodosius: 453; for Justinian ii: 459. For this concept, see Robinson (1988: 302–303). For Hadrian: ‘Iste fuit in omnibus gloriosus, leges multas condidit’ (Chronicon, 446); for Justinian: ‘Hic leges condidit et consummavit libros scilicet Codicem et Digestum’ (Chronicon, 455). Chronicon, 450. ‘There were in their hearts no doubts about the Christian faith, nor remained traces of previous error’ (Chronicon, 451). Chronicon, 415. ‘Constantinum autem in extremo vite sue ab Eusebio Nichomediensi episcopo rebap-

252

rolston

onwards Martin’s particular concern with heresy and orthodoxy is evident. He makes a note of any emperor who fell into heresy, including the Arian emperors of late antiquity as well as the iconoclast Byzantines. Having described iconoclasm as heresy in his entry on the emperor Philippicus,35 Martin condemns Leo iii for the same errors.36 His worst invective is directed at Leo’s son Constantine v, who is ‘impietatum patrum successor legumque a patribus traditarum persecutor omni tempore vite sue maleficiis et magicis deserviens’.37 Martin emphasizes the threat Constantine’s heresy posed to the Church, including that clergy, monks and the laity were endangered,38 and concludes by comparing Constantine’s persecution of the Church to that of Diocletian, claiming he had surpassed Diocletian in madness.39 The common theme for every mention of the heresy or orthodoxy of a particular emperor in the Chronicon is the impact of the emperor’s beliefs on the lives of the faithful. Constantine v is the worst of these, as the comparison with Diocletian shows, but those under the rule of any heretical emperor suffer: Martin highlights the persecution suffered by the orthodox faithful under the reigns of other emperors he identifies as heretical, such as Constantius, Valens, Anastasius and Constantine iii.40 In a similar vein the emperors Martin identifies as christianissimus, such as Theodosius i and Justin, or orthodox augustus, such as Constantine iv, are praised for the positive effects they have on the spiritual life of Christendom. Theodosius’s virtue inspired barbarians to convert to Christianity,41 while Justin and Constantine iv restored churches taken or damaged by heretics to the orthodox faithful.42 Martin emphasizes the role of imperial piety in the spiritual wellbeing of Christendom. The impact of Constantine’s church building programme in

35 36 37 38 39

40

41 42

tizatum et in Arrianum dogma conversum esse quidam retulerunt. Sed hoc de Constantino mendose dicitur’ (Chronicon, 450). ‘Hic cum esset hereticus, omnes picturas ecclesiasticas precepit auferri’ (Chronicon, 459). Chronicon, 460. ‘The successor to the impiety of his fathers, the persecutor of the laws handed down from his fathers, for the whole time of his life in the service of evil and magic’ (Chronicon, 460). ‘et multi clerici et laici et monachi per ipsum in fide periclitati sunt’ (Chronicon, 460). ‘sacrificiis sacrilegis ac monachorum perempcionibus sic ecclesiam Dei persequitur, quod etiam venasiam Diocleciani persecutoris quondam ecclesie transcendere videbatur’ (Chronicon, 460). Martin describes Constantius and Valens as Arians (Chronicon, 452); Anastasius as favouring heretics (Chronicon, 455); and Constantine iii, better known as Constans ii, as deceived by Paul of Constantinople (‘Hic Constantinus a Paulo Constantinopolitano deceptus’) into persecuting orthodoxy (Chronicon, 458). Chronicon, 453. For Justin: Chronicon, 455; for Constantine iv: 458.

martin of opava and dominican understandings

253

Rome, with Martin’s comment that it left in people’s hearts ‘no traces of previous error’, is particularly telling of his view on how practical support of the Church by a ruler inspires conversion. Charlemagne, the ubiquitous model for ideal Christian emperorship, offers another example of Martin’s approach to imperial piety. The Chronicon includes the popular legend, originating in the late eleventh-century Descriptio qualiter Karolus Magnus,43 of Charlemagne’s journey to the Holy Land to liberate Jerusalem: Hic etiam percipiens Terram Sanctam occupatam a Sarracenis, legatis patriarche Ierosolimitani et Constantini imperatoris Constantinopolitani receptis, Terre Sancte compaciens cum magno exercitu illuc usque pervenit et recuperata terra, cum per Constantinopolim rediret, auro argentoque et gemmis preciosis a Constantino imperatore exhibitis, cum nollet recipere, solas Christi et sanctorum reliquias postulavit … Chronicon, 461

This emperor, having received legates from the patriarch of Jerusalem and Constantine emperor of Constantinople, and learning that the Holy Land was occupied by Saracens, sympathising with the Holy Land, came to that place with a great army and regained the land. When he returned through Constantinople, he refused to accept the gold, silver and precious gems presented to him by the emperor Constantine, but asked only for relics of Christ and the saints. He brings these relics, including pieces of Christ’s crown and cross, a nail from the Passion, items of clothing from Christ and the Virgin Mary, and the arm of St. Symeon, back to the basilica at Aachen which he built.44 The choice of relics not only demonstrates the emperor’s own piety but his ability to facilitate popular devotion to the saints among his people. Charlemagne is not the only emperor cast in this ‘proto-crusader’ role in the Chronicon,45 with the seventhcentury Heraclius’s recovery of the True Cross echoing similar themes:

43

44 45

Stuckey (2008: 138). For the Descriptio’s origins, see Gabriele (2008: 93–118). Martin most likely encountered this legend through Vincent of Beauvais. The Descriptio qualiter was Vincent’s source for Charlemagne’s journey to the Holy Land, as noted by Jones (2007: 348). Chronicon, 461–462. For Charlemagne’s legendary expeditions in literature and chronicles, see, for example, Latowsky (2013), Stuckey (2008: 137–152) and Jones (2007: 347–349).

254

rolston

Hic Eraclius devicta Perside cum gloria rediens, Zachariam patriarcham et omnem populum christianum captivum Iherosolimam reduxit et sanctam crucem, quam a Cosdroe receperat, portans, ornatus regio scemate, dum per portam per quam Christus baiulans crucem ad passionem exivit vellet intrare, porta divinitus clauditur, eique humiliato rursum ad intrandum aperitur. Chronicon, 457.

This Heraclius, having defeated the Persians, returning with great glory, restored the patriarch Zachary and the whole captured Christian population of Jerusalem, and, carrying the sacred cross which he had recovered from Chosroes [and] adorned in a royal style, when he wished to enter through the gate through which Christ had exited bearing the cross to his Passion, the gates were closed by divine means, and opened again for him to enter after he humbled himself. This is a highly condensed version of the story that appears in the Speculum historiale.46 Heraclius’s recovery of Jerusalem has a twofold impact on the faithful: he liberates captive Christians in the city and restores the True Cross for public veneration. This practical piety is noted in a number of other imperial entries, with Justinian, Charles the Bald and Otto i praised for their church-building efforts.47 By emphasising the impact of an emperor’s faith and piety on the spiritual lives of those he ruled, Martin creates a vision of Christian emperorship that is both political and pastoral. The equal nature of papal and imperial power and the important role of the emperor in supporting and facilitating orthodox Christian worship may be seen to be at odds with Martin’s position. By virtue of his role as papal chaplain and penitentiary at the Roman Curia during the time he compiled the Chronicon, Martin has been assumed to be ‘hierocratic’ in his outlook—that is, a proponent of the idea that imperial power was subordinate to papal.48 A good example of this is Bert Roest’s comment that ‘thanks to its hierocratic, pope-oriented vision of history … Martin’s Chronicon was more or less officially adopted by the papal curia.’49 This is something of an oversimplification.

46 47 48 49

Vincent of Beauvais in turn cites his material from the Historia de exaltatione Sancte Crucis: Speculum historiale, 23.12.903–904. On Justinian: Chronicon, 456; for Charles the Bald: 463; for Otto i: 465. For an introduction to the terms ‘hierocratic’ and ‘dualist’, see Canning (2005: 93–95). Roest (2012: 308).

martin of opava and dominican understandings

255

The Chronicon is, undeniably, pro-papal in its outlook. It was possibly commissioned by Pope Clement iv,50 and is openly critical of emperors who fell afoul of the Church. Conflating ‘pro-papal’ with ‘hierocratic’, however, is misleading. Martin makes the standard comment that spiritual power has greater dignity than temporal—a sentiment shared by, among others, the emperor Frederick ii—but the relationship between empire and papacy in the Chronicon is a symbiotic one.51 The idea that papacy and empire are jointly responsible for the governance of Christendom is the foundation of Martin’s worldview. It would not be going too far to suggest that the writings of the Church Fathers and the traditional patristic understanding of universal power had a greater influence on Martin’s thought than the environment of the Curia in which he was writing. However, the idea that the papacy would only support a chronicle that presented a hierocratic viewpoint is in itself questionable. Historians have typically identified Innocent iii, Gregory ix and Innocent iv as the thirteenthcentury popes who actively pushed hierocratic ideas, and even then with some caveats.52 To the best of our knowledge Martin served under none of these popes,53 and he was certainly not compiling the Chronicon under their direction. The fact that Martin saw papacy and empire as equal in importance and responsibility for the rule of Christendom sets him apart from other latemedieval chroniclers—in particular, as will be shown, from his Dominican successors. In saying this, however, Martin also constructed his Chronicon to be firmly and sometimes passionately pro-papal in its outlook. Frederick ii, the last crowned emperor before the lengthy interregnum during which Martin compiled the Chronicon, offers a good case study of this bias. Frederick’s reign

50 51

52 53

Von den Brincken (2010: 1086). Martin makes this comment when justifying the layout of his chronicle: ‘Hec sunt duo luminaria magna, que posuit Deus in firmamento celi, id est in universali ecclesia, que sunt pontificalis auctoritas et imperialis potestas. Inter que luminaria, sicut luminare maius est sol et luminare minus luna, sic spiritualis potestas est maior et imperialis minor. Propter hoc ego de utraque dignitate scribere volens, primo ago de pontificali, tanquam de luminari maiori quod preest diebus, id est spiritualibus, in prima pagina; post de imperiali tamquam de minori quod preest noctibus, id est temporalibus, in sequenti pagina’ (Chronicon, 407). For the sun and moon analogy in Frederick ii’s thought: ‘… in firmamento celi duo statuit luminaria, majus et minus … a simili eadem eterna provisio in firmamento terre duo voluit inesse regimina, sacerdotium scilicet et imperium …’ (Historia Diplomatica Friderici Secundi, 348). See Canning (2005: 121–124); Watt (1988: 378); and Barraclough (1968: 113–114). Von den Brincken notes that Martin was attested papal chaplain and penitentiary from 1261 and appointed archbishop of Gnesen in mid-1278 (2010: 1085).

256

rolston

was marked by ongoing conflict with the papacy, culminating in his deposition by Innocent iv at the Council of Lyon in 1245. The Curia launched an enthusiastic propaganda campaign against Frederick, including the preaching of a crusade against him.54 Though Martin was writing several years after Frederick’s death in 1250, the failure of any later candidate to reach imperial coronation and the resulting vacancy means that his legacy must have cast a long shadow over contemporary perceptions of the imperial office. Martin certainly follows the papal line on Frederick’s character and shortcomings. He makes the emotive comment that the emperor, ‘ab infancia per ecclesiam tamquam per matrem Dei non fovit tamquam matrem, sed tamquam novercam quantum potuit laniavit.’55 Aside from accusing him of filicide,56 Martin’s criticism of Frederick is predominantly concerned with the emperor’s disrespect for the Church and, crucially, for papal authority. This is particularly evident in his rearrangement of the chronology of Frederick’s reign to emphasize the emperor’s disregard for excommunication. The obvious source for this material is Vincent of Beauvais; the others are too early to include Frederick, and at points Martin copies the Speculum historiale verbatim. In Martin’s account the discussion of Frederick’s crusade to the Holy Land while excommunicate is immediately followed by his deposition. In reality Frederick undertook his crusade in 1228, was reconciled to the Church in 1230, and deposed in 1245 following a lengthy period of conflict. It would be difficult to argue that this was an innocent mistake, given that the Speculum historiale provides a more or less accurate summary of Frederick’s reign.57 The differences in the chronologies of the Chronicon and the Speculum historiale are clear:

54 55

56

57

For a discussion of the effective papal propaganda against Frederick, see Sommerlechner (1999: 147–150). ‘Educated from infancy by the Church as if by a mother and raised to the summit of the empire, he did not value the Church of God like a mother, but destroyed her as if she were a stepmother, as much as he was able to do so’ (Chronicon, 471). ‘Hic Fredericus, proprium filium, Henricum nomine, regem tunc Alamannie, accusatum sibi de rebellione, captum in Apuliam deducens, carceris squalore suffocavit’ (Chronicon, 471). It is unclear where Martin derived this information since it does not appear in Vincent of Beauvais. Henry in fact died by suicide on his way to the imperial court in 1242, see Abulafia (1988: 241). One notable error in Vincent’s account, also seen in Martin’s, is the attribution of Frederick’s first excommunication to Honorius iii rather than Gregory ix: for the harmonious relationship between Honorius and Frederick, see Abulafia (1988: 161–162).

martin of opava and dominican understandings

Vincent

Martin

Excommunication by Honorius Crusade while excommunicate Excommunication by Gregory Capture of papal legates Deposition at Council of Lyon

Excommunication by Honorius Excommunication by Gregory Capture of papal legates Crusade while excommunicate Deposition at Council of Lyon58

257

Martin’s reliance on Vincent for the wording of much of this account leaves little doubt that he deliberately rearranged Vincent’s material. He includes no dates for either the crusade or the deposition, leaving the clear implication that it was the one that led to the other. Martin’s account of Frederick’s reign presents an emperor who existed in a constant state of excommunication and whose crusade while excommunicated was the final straw for the longsuffering Church, which subsequently deposed him. The fact that seventeen years had passed between Frederick’s crusade and deposition, during which time he had reconciled—albeit temporarily—with the Papacy, does not feature at all in the Chronicon. The defiance of the pope’s spiritual ‘sword’—the act of excommunication—is, according to Martin, Frederick’s greatest transgression. By defying the pope’s authority within his spiritual sphere, Frederick destroys the balance of power crucial for papal-imperial relations and the joint governance of Christendom. Other papal accusations against the emperor, such as that he was a heretic or that he fraternized with the Saracens, do not appear in the Chronicon.59 With the exception of filicide, Martin limits his charges against Frederick to those that relate to his defiance of papal authority.

3

Empire in Dominican Historiography

The vision of emperorship that emerges in the Chronicon is one consistently informed by Martin’s understanding of the ‘two swords’ doctrine. This was not the only factor that shaped his thought: as a Dominican working at the papal

58 59

Vincent’s account of these events can be found in Speculum historiale, 30.129–38.1277– 1280; for Martin’s: Chronicon, 471. Given Martin’s usual enthusiasm for recording imperial heresy, it is possible that he was not convinced by this particular accusation against Frederick.

258

rolston

Curia, Martin was influenced both by his Order and his loyalties to the papacy. In many ways the Chronicon is a distinctly Dominican work. Martin’s characteristic conservativeness is itself likely to be a product of his education in the Order. As M. Michele Mulchahey has demonstrated in her extensive study of medieval Dominican education, the early curriculum of the Order’s scholae was deeply conservative.60 Martin was educated at the Dominican convent of SaintClement in Prague and there is no record of him pursuing further education.61 It can therefore be assumed that the bulk of his formal training took place at the schola in the convent where he joined the Order.62 There are more concrete examples of Martin’s understanding of empire being shaped by the Dominican curriculum: in the earlier recensions of the Chronicon Martin suggests that his work be bound with Peter Comestor’s Historia scholastica,63 which Mulchahey notes was an important text in the Dominican curriculum.64 It is clear based on this that he saw his history to be a continuation of the narrative of biblical history presented in the Historia, which included the interpretation of Daniel’s prophecy of the four kingdoms that Rome would be the last kingdom.65 The interpretation of this passage was key to the medieval understanding that the Roman Empire had continued, unbroken since antiquity.66 Jones has noted the particular adherence to the idea of a continuous Roman Empire by the Dominican Order in the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, identifying it as a common thread in the works of Vincent of Beauvais, Martin of Opava and John of Paris.67 This understanding of the Empire’s role in Christian history and eschatology was not unique to the Dominicans, but it does appear to be a consistent feature of the Order’s thinking. Overall, the foundations of Martin’s

60

61

62 63 64

65 66

67

Mulchahey notes that ‘the seeds of what came to be a deeply-rooted conservatism in Dominican thought … were sown as the order took its very first steps towards defining, in essence, the Dominican syllabus’ (1998: 54). It is unknown how long he was at Saint-Clement but his connection to the monastery was strong enough that he later applied for papal privileges on its behalf; Von den Brincken (1987: 159). Friars spent two years exclusively studying theology in the convent scholae before undertaking preaching or work in the community (Mulchahey 1998: 133). Chronicon, 397. The Historia Scholastica was ‘a constant presence’ in Dominican scholae by the early fourteenth century, and Humbert of Romans names it as a text that should be taught by scholae lectors in the mid-thirteenth century; see Mulchahey (1998: 137–138). For Comestor’s interpretation of Daniel’s prophecy: Historia Scholastica, 1449. Wilson summarizes the significance of the unbroken continuation of the Empire in medieval eschatology: ‘The Roman empire had to continue, since the appearance of a fifth monarchy would invalidate Daniel’s prophecy and contradict God’s plan’ (2017: 38). Jones (2015: 107–110).

martin of opava and dominican understandings

259

understanding of the empire were common enough during the Middle Ages, but were also those explicitly endorsed by the Dominican Order. Martin’s particular concern with imperial piety and its impact on the lives of the faithful is less common, though it too can be linked to Dominican ideas. The Dominican mission was dedicated to the care and salvation of all souls.68 In his commentary on the prologue to the Constitutiones, Humbert of Romans, Master-General of the Order from 1254–1263, identifies this goal as distinct to the Dominicans: while other religious orders were concerned only with the salvation of those who entered them, the Dominicans worked for the salvation of both the brothers and the wider public.69 The interest Martin shows in detailing the effects of imperial piety on the spiritual lives of the Christian community as well as on the institutional Church is, perhaps, a reflection of the Dominican dedication to public ministry. This is not to suggest that other monastic chroniclers were indifferent to the relationship between the emperor and the faithful, but that it was not prioritized for inclusion in their histories in the same way. Martin’s focus on heresy and the vitriol directed at rulers whom he deemed to be heretical is a good example of the way the religious mission of the Dominicans finds expression in the historiography produced by its members. The Order was originally formed with the express purpose of combatting heresy, with its education system designed to equip its members with the skills to effectively preach orthodox doctrine.70 It is unsurprising, given this background, that Martin takes a keen interest in the orthodoxy of different emperors’ beliefs and is so condemnatory of those who follow, promote and enforce heresy. His approach to imperial orthodoxy is part of a wider concern with the emperor’s impact upon the spiritual wellbeing of all Christendom, just as the Dominican mission to oppose heresy is part of a wider pastoral mission dedicated to the salvation of all souls. Various elements of Martin’s understanding of emperorship are recognisably Dominican in origin. Comparison with other Dominican compilers, however, reveals the degree of variation in the concept of empire within the early

68

69 70

The prologue to the Dominican Constitutions states that the Order ‘is known to have been founded initially precisely for the sake of preaching and the salvation of souls, and all our concern should be primarily and passionately directed to this all-important goal’ (Super constitutiones, 457). Humbert of Romans, Super constitutiones, in Mulchahey (1998: 4). On the Order’s origins in Toulouse combating heresy see, for example, Lawrence (1994: 65–71); for the conventual scholae system and its role in preparing friars for their public ministry, see Mulchahey (1998: 130–134).

260

rolston

Order and the impact of each friar’s individual circumstances in determining his worldview.71 Another major Dominican encyclopedic project, the Speculum historiale of Vincent of Beauvais, offers a good point of comparison between Martin and his contemporaries in the mid-thirteenth century, while the early fourteenth-century Annales of Ptolemy of Lucca and Flores chronicorum of Bernard Gui reveal the way Martin’s chronicle was received and used as a source by later writers in the Order.72 Despite their shared religious background, all three compilers represent vastly different political and geographic backgrounds to Martin working under papal patronage in Rome. Vincent and Bernard were French, with Vincent enjoying patronage by Louis ix and Bernard demonstrating loyalty to both king and pope. Ptolemy’s outlook, meanwhile, is shaped by his loyalty to the papacy and his civic pride. While some common ground can be found between all four regarding their concept of empire, the way each represented imperial history differed considerably as a result of these vastly different contexts. As discussed above, the idea that the Roman Empire had continued unbroken since antiquity as the fourth and final kingdom of Daniel’s prophecy was a mainstay of Dominican thought, and is evident in the works of all four writers discussed here. Martin notes each time the empire passed from one nation to another;73 Vincent notes that with Charlemagne the Roman imperium had separated from Constantinople,74 and Ptolemy’s use of the translatio imperii concept throughout his works has been well documented.75 The requirement for an emperor to receive papal benediction in order to claim the imperial title, since the coronation of Charlemagne onwards, is also clearly noted in each work. Vincent notes that Conrad iii was King of the Germans, but did not receive imperial benediction.76 Ptolemy echoes Martin’s accounts of Henry i and Conrad iii, who are not listed among the emperors because they

71 72

73

74 75 76

For an example of this comparative approach with Dominican ideas of empire, see Jones (2015b: 77–111). Notable studies on these authors and their works include, for Vincent: Paulmier-Foucart, Lusignan and Nadeau (1990); Paulmier-Foucart and Duchenne (2004); Paulmier-Foucart and Lusignan (1990: 97–124); for Ptolemy: Blythe (2009a, 2009b); and for Bernard: Lamarrigue (2000) and Dubreil-Arcin (2011). ‘Exempto enim imperio a Francis, fertur ad Ytalicos secundum sentenciam Romanorum …’ (Chronicon, 463); ‘Exempto enim imperio Ytalicis, soli Theotonici imperaverunt usque ad presens tempus’ (Chronicon, 465). Speculum historiale, 24.1.962. See Blythe (2009b: 73–124). ‘Conradus vero Teutonicorum Rex obiit, cum 15. annis regnaverit, benedictionem tamen imperialem non habuit’ (Speculum historiale, 27.128.1142).

martin of opava and dominican understandings

261

did not receive imperial benediction.77 Both Ptolemy and Bernard draw from Martin in their coverage of the landgrave of Thuringia and William of Holland, the elected rulers of Germany, noting that both candidates died before receiving imperial benediction.78 The common understanding of emperorship between these Dominican compilers can be summarized in simple terms: the empire has continued since antiquity, through a series of translations, in fulfilment of Daniel’s prophecy, and the emperor claims his title through papal benediction. Martin’s vision of the dual rule of Christendom by pope and emperor, however, is not found in the other works. Vincent of Beauvais, working under royal patronage, presents the history of the French kingdom as equally important to papal and imperial histories. The Speculum historiale is loosely structured around imperial reigns,79 but within this structure the affairs of France are given similar coverage to those of the empire and, in moments of particular significance, even eclipse them. For example, in the twenty-seven chapters that span the reign of Anastasius, the deeds of the emperor himself are included in two, while four chapters are dedicated exclusively to the reign of the first Christian king of the Franks, Clovis, and his wife Clotild.80 The following emperor, Justin, is discussed in two of the twenty chapters that span his reign, while the Merovingian kings appear in six.81 Bernard Gui is similarly invested in French history, but is upfront about his focus on the papacy. At the end of his prologue, Bernard makes the telling suggestion that his work be titled the Flores chronicorum, ‘vel si cui magis placuerit, Catalogus Pontificum Romanorum’.82 Both French chroniclers show less interest in the affairs of the empire than Martin and, unsurprisingly, dedicate more space in their work for French history. The differences between the two further illustrate a shift in ideas over time: Vincent, who produced the Speculum around 1250, is the earliest of the friars studied here; Bernard, who compiled the Flores in the 1320s–1330s, is the last. The Speculum appears to be a traditional worldview focused on empire and papacy with a third power, the French

77

78 79 80 81 82

‘… Henrico filio, qui quintus est in genealogia regum Alamannie, sed est quartus in genealogia imperatorum, quia primus Henricus benedictionem imperialem non est consecutus, ut Martinus refert et Gottifredus’ (Annales, 27; see also Chronicon, 464–466); ‘Huic succedit Curradus, qui … benedictionem tamen imperialem non habuit; unde et in cathalogo imperatorum non conputatur’ (Annales, 52; see also Chronicon, 469). For Bernard: Flores, 696; for Ptolemy, Annales, 127. Paulmier-Foucart and Duchenne (2004: 93–104), cited in Jones (2017: 323). Speculum historiale, 21.1–27.818–827. Speculum historiale, 21.29–49.827–834. ‘… or, if it is more pleasing to anyone, the Catalogue of Roman Popes’ (Flores, 693).

262

rolston

kingdom, appearing understandably as the product of French royal patronage. As the Order of Preachers developed it enjoyed a very close relationship with the papacy, which became more pronounced as tension between the Franciscans and the papal curia grew in the early fourteenth century.83 Bernard’s presentation of the papacy as the sole central power of Christian history can, therefore, be seen as a reflection of Dominican loyalties in the early fourteenth century. The early fourteenth century has, furthermore, been identified as a period which saw a revival of hierocratic ideas in the face of both the practical collapse of papal authority and the further development of political theories that challenged the universal claims of both papacy and empire.84 Ptolemy of Lucca, whose depiction of the relationship between empire and papacy is decidedly hierocratic, offers a clear example of this tendency. Ptolemy was an active writer of treatises that have been deemed by historians as works of political theory, and as James M. Blythe has discussed, these treatises clearly articulate Ptolemy’s hierocratic views.85 They are, however, similarly evident in his historiographical writings. Just as the starting point for the Chronicon reveals Martin’s dualist understanding of papal-imperial relations, the beginning of the Annales signals a papal focus: Ptolemy begins his chronicle with Pope Alexander ii, previously bishop of Lucca, and Henry iv, who was contemporaneous with him.86 Ptolemy’s choice of starting point for the Annales was most likely motivated by civic pride and the need to acknowledge a pope who had previously held the bishopric of Lucca. Henry appears simply as the contemporary of Alexander, rather than a significant starting point in his own right. The subordination of empire to papacy appears as a consistent thread throughout the Annales, with Frederick ii again offering a useful case study. Ptolemy uses Frederick’s conflict with the papacy as an example of the triumph of papal power over imperial: Unde coactus est papa Innocentius contra Fredericum apologeticum facere, ostendens in eo iurisdictionem pape super Christianitatem esse maiorem iurisdictione imperiale, confirmans hoc ipsum per sententias

83

84 85 86

On the close relationship between Dominicans and the papacy, see Prudlo (2010: 1280). For the tension between the papacy and the Franciscans over the issue of poverty, see Burr (2001). Canning (1988: 363–364). For a discussion of empire and papacy in Ptolemy’s treatises, see Blythe (2009b: 97–124). ‘… incipientes ab Alexandro papa secundo, qui fuerat ante Lucanus episcopus, et ab Henrico eius contemporaneo imperatore’ (Annales, 3).

martin of opava and dominican understandings

263

suorum antecessorum et precipue Innocentii tertii, quam habemus in decretali Extra. De electione. Venerabilem. Annales, 125

From this Pope Innocent was compelled to make a defence against Frederick, showing in it that the jurisdiction of the pope over Christianity is greater than the imperial jurisdiction, confirming this himself through the sentences of his predecessors and especially Innocent iii, which we have in the decretal, Venerabilem. An earlier recension of the Annales puts this more succinctly, referring to the greater dignity of the pope rather than the greater jurisdiction.87 The move from discussing the greater dignity of the papacy to the pope’s greater jurisdiction suggests that Ptolemy was seeking to strengthen his point about papal power in later recensions of the chronicle. Frederick’s deposition is treated differently by Martin and Ptolemy. The Annales, curiously, does not mention the deposition at the Council of Lyon outright, but this appears to be an oversight: Ptolemy notes it in his later Historia ecclesiastica nova.88 The Annales notes, instead, that Pope Innocent called a council of the prelates against Frederick, which Ptolemy dates to 1242,89 and that the German princes elected the landgrave of Thuringia on Innocent’s orders in 1244.90 The Annales makes it clear that the imperial throne was vacant and open to new candidates by the time of the election. Martin, meanwhile, appears to hedge his bets. He notes that the empire had been vacant either from Frederick’s deposition or from his death five years later.91 As we have seen, Martin was no fan of Frederick’s and it seems

87

88

89 90

91

‘1241 papa Innocentius 4. ostendit Federico imperatori pontificiam dignitatem imperiali esse maiorem’ (Annales, 125); Schmeidler notes this is the only information for 1241 in Recension A. ‘In processu autem concilii, hoc est xvi. kal. augusti, Innocentius Fredericum imperatorem Romanum velut hostem ecclesie condemnavit ipsumque tam ab imperio quam a regno Sicilie, Apulie et Calabrie deposuit …’ (Ptolemy of Lucca, Historia ecclesiastica nova, 548). The Annales does, however, refer to the papacy deposing Frederick from the empire at various points prior to the Council of Lyon, including once by Honorius in 1222 and once by Gregory in 1227 (Annales, 111 and 115). Martin mentions the emperor’s excommunication but does not use the language of deposition in either of these cases. Annales, 125–126. He notes that ‘others say the council was held in ’45; and the election mandated in the same year’ (‘Alii dicunt concilium celebratum in xlv; et eodem anno mandata fuit electio’; Annales, 127). ‘Romanum imperium sive post deposicionem Friderici ii. ab imperio, sive post mortem eius cepit vacare’ (Chronicon, 472).

264

rolston

unlikely that he was giving the emperor the benefit of the doubt in suggesting he continued to occupy the imperial office after deposition. Frederick’s predecessor Otto iv faced a similar situation: he too was deposed by the pope, but there is no ambiguity in his loss of the throne. Martin simply notes that Frederick was raised to the imperial throne after the condemnation of Otto.92 This suggests that, according to Martin, while the pope could, in theory, ‘depose’ an emperor from his throne, in practical terms the emperor had to either die or be replaced before his rule actually ended. This caveat on the practical power of papacy over empire is nowhere to be found in the Annales. On the issue of heresy Martin’s particular pastoral concerns set him apart from his brethren. It is perhaps a given for the friars that the emperor should not be a heretic, but the emphasis that Martin places on orthodoxy is notable. This is made particularly clear in comparison with Vincent of Beauvais. There are two notable cases where Martin has made use of the Speculum historiale regarding imperial heresy but altered the content. The first is the issue of Constantine’s Arian baptism. Vincent, while avoiding a definitive judgement on Constantine’s supposed heresy, provides the details and notes that this information comes from Jerome, one of the Church Fathers.93 Martin is very dismissive of this idea, as discussed above, presenting it as mere rumour and dropping the attribution to Jerome. By not mentioning Jerome as the source of the idea that Constantine was an Arian—which he must have been aware of—Martin avoids the undeniable authority of the Church Fathers. There is no room for the suspicion of heresy in Martin’s portrayal of the ideal Christian emperor. For the iconoclast Constantine v, Martin’s condemnation echoes Vincent’s quite closely.94 His closing comment that Constantine surpassed the madness of Diocletian in his persecution of the Church is, however, his own addition. This emphasis of the consequences of imperial heresy for the wellbeing of the Church is characteristic of Martin, offering a good example of how even minor changes of wording reflect his specific concerns regarding emperorship.

4

Conclusion

The diversity of circumstances and thought within the Dominican Order was noted even by its early leaders, with Humbert of Romans noting with some 92 93 94

Chronicon, 471. Speculum historiale, 13.102.540. See Speculum historiale, 23.151.952, and Chronicon, 460.

martin of opava and dominican understandings

265

disapproval the differences between members and the lack of uniformity compared with other orders in his Super consitutiones.95 Regardless of the MasterGeneral’s feelings on the matter, the reality remained that members of the early Order often had little in common with their brethren in far-flung provinces, and variation in levels of education and in appointments to episcopal or academic positions outside the monastery further exacerbated these differences. Even within the interconnected historiographical tradition of late-medieval Dominican compilations, understandings of the role of the Roman Empire— the most important temporal power in Christian history—differed considerably depending on each friar’s patronage, background and circumstances. Despite appearing at the centre of this interconnected tradition, utilising Vincent of Beauvais and in turn providing a source for Ptolemy of Lucca and Bernard Gui, Martin’s vision of empire remains distinct from that of his brethren. His consistent and clearly articulated understanding of the ‘two swords’ idea of papal-imperial relations, and the extent to which this differs from both his sources and his successors, demonstrates that he is not the derivative and unoriginal compiler that modern historiography has sometimes suggested. His inaccuracy and twisting of facts tells us much about his agenda and the ways in which he manipulated his source material to construct a particular narrative that reflected his worldview. When the Chronicon is appreciated not only for the novelty of its layout but for the cohesiveness of its worldview, its value as a source for late-medieval concepts of empire becomes apparent. At a time traditionally associated with the decline of empire and the rise of the nation-state, the Chronicon offers a clear example of a chronicler whose worldview is still centred around the two universal powers of empire and papacy. It is also, as this article has demonstrated, a valuable example of the ways Dominican historiography was shaped by the concerns of the Order. Comparison between Martin and his brethren further reveals the limitations of that influence when considered alongside external factors that informed a chronicler’s worldview, such as patronage and political or geographic context. Dominican historiography is reflective of the Order itself: built upon a shared mission and foundation of knowledge, but ultimately defined by its interaction with the world around it.96 95 96

Tugwell (1982: 141–142). Research for this article was originally carried out as part of an ma thesis submitted to the University of Canterbury | Te Whare Wānanga o Waitaha in 2018, supervised by Chris Jones and Gary Morrison and funded by a uc Master’s Scholarship. I am grateful for additional suggestions from my examiners, Georg Jostkleigrewe and Lindsay Diggelmann, as well as from audience members at the 2019 Australian and New Zealand Association for Medieval and Early Modern Studies conference in Sydney, and the anonymous reviewers.

266

rolston

Bibliography Primary Sources [Bernard Gui] E. Floribus chronicorum, seu cathalogo Romanorum pontificum, necnon e chronico regum Francorum, auctore Bernardo Guidonis, episcopo Lodovensi. Ed. J.D. Guigniaut and Natalis de Wailly. Recuil des historiens des Gaules et de la France 21. Paris, 1855. 690–734. [Gilbert of Rome] Gilberti chronicon pontificum et imperatorum Romanorum. Ed. O. Holder-Egger. mgh ss 24. Hannover, 1879. 119–140. Referred to as Gilbert of Rome, Chronicon, [pages]. Historia Diplomatica Friderici Secundi 5. Ed. J.L.A. Huillard-Bréholes. Paris, 1857. [Humbert of Romans] Super constitutiones. Trans. Simon Tugwell. Early Dominicans: Selected Writings. London: spck, 1982. 141–145. Referred to as Super constitutiones, [pages]. [Martin of Opava] Martini Oppaviensis chronicon pontificum et imperatorum. Ed. Ludwig Weiland. mgh ss 22. Hannover, 1872. 377–475. Referred to as Chronicon, [pages]. [Martin of Opava] Martin von Troppau Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum. Ed. AnnaDorothee von den Brincken. mgh online edition. 2014. https://data.mgh.de/ext/​ epub/mt/ (accessed 14 September 2021). [Peter Comestor] Historia Scholastica. Ed. J.P. Migne. pl 198. Paris, 1853. 1045–1721. [Ptolemy of Lucca] Die Annalen des Tholomeus von Lucca in doppelter Fassung nebst Teilen der Gesta Florentinorum und Gesta Lucanorum. Ed. Bernhard Schmeidler. mgh ss Rer. Germ, ns 8. Berlin, 1930. Referred to as Annales, [pages]. [Ptolemy of Lucca] Tholomeus von Lucca historia ecclesiastica nova. Ed. L. Schmugge. mgh ss 39. Hannover, 2009. [Vincent of Beauvais] Bibliotheca mundi, seu venerabilis viri Vincentii Burgundi ex ordine Praedicatorum, episcopi Bellovacensis, Speculum quadruplex, naturale, doctrinale, morale, historiale 4. Ed. Benedictines of Saint-Vaast d’Arras. Douai, 1624. Referred to as Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum, [book, chapter, page].

Secondary Literature Abulafia, David (1988). Frederick ii: A Medieval Emperor. London: Penguin. Barraclough, Geoffrey (1968). The Medieval Papacy. London: Thames & Hudson. Barthélemy, Dominique, Isabelle Guyot-Bachy, Frédérique Lachaud and Jean-Marie Moeglin, eds. (2020). Communitas regni: la “communauté de royaume” de la fin du xe siècle au début du xive siècle (Angleterre, Écosse, France, Empire, Scandinavie). Paris: Sorbonne Université Presses. Blythe, James M. (2009a). The Life and Works of Tolomeo Fiadoni (Ptolemy of Lucca). Turnhout: Brepols. Blythe, James M. (2009b). The Worldview and Thought of Tolomeo Fiadoni (Ptolemy of Lucca). Turnhout: Brepols.

martin of opava and dominican understandings

267

Burns, J.H., ed. (1988). The Cambridge History of Medieval Political Thought c. 350–1450. Cambridge: cup. Burr, D. (2001). The Spiritual Franciscans: From Protest to Persecution in the Century After Saint Francis. University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State up. Burrow, John (2007). A History of Histories: Epics, Chronicles, Romances and Inquiries from Herodotus and Thucydides to the Twentieth Century. London: Allen Lane. Canning, Joseph (1988). ‘Introduction: Politics, Institutions and Ideas.’ In Burns (1988). 341–366. Canning, Joseph (2005). A History of Medieval Political Thought 300–1450. 2nd edn. Routledge: London. Chazan, Mireille (1999). L’Empire et l’histoire universelle de Sigebert de Gembloux à Jean de Saint-Victor. Paris: Honoré Champion. Chazan, Mireille (2006). ‘La méthode critique des historiens dans les chroniques universelles médiévales.’ in La méthode critique au Moyen Âge. Ed. Mireille Chazan and Gilbert Dahan. Turnhout: Brepols. 223–256. Deliyannis, Deborah Mauskopf, ed. (2003). Historiography in the Middle Ages. Leiden: Brill. Dubreil-Arcin, A. (2011). Vies de saints, légendes de soi: L’écriture hagiographique dominicaine jusqu’au Speculum sanctorale de Bernard Gui († 1331). Turnhout: Brepols. Embree, D. (1999). The Chronicles of Rome: An Edition of the Middle English Chronicle of Popes and Emperors and the Lollard Chronicle, Woodbridge: Boydell Press. Fernández-Ordóñez, Inés (2020). ‘The Imperium in Alfonso x’s Historiography.’ Medieval Chronicle 13: 1–32. Gabriele, Matthew (2008). ‘The Provenance of the Descripto qualiter Karolus Magnus: Remembering the Carolingians in the Entourage of King Philip i (1060–1108) Before the First Crusade.’ Viator 39 (2): 93–118. Given-Wilson, Chris (2004). Chronicles: The Writing of History in Medieval England. London: Hambledon. Goetz, Hans-Werner (2013). ‘The “methodology” of medieval chroniclers.’ In Chronicon: Medieval Narrative Sources: A Chronological Guide with Introductory Essays. Ed. János M. Bak and Ivan Jurković. Turnhout: Brepols. 25–33. Guenée, Bernard (1985). ‘L’historien et la compilation au xiiie siècle.’ Journal des Savants: 119–135. Ikas, Wolfgang-Valentin (2001). ‘Martinus Polonus’ Chronicle of the Popes and Emperors: A Medieval Best-Seller and Its Neglected Influence on Medieval English Chroniclers.’ The English Historical Review 116: 327–341. Jones, Chris (2007). Eclipse of Empire? Perceptions of the Empire and its Rulers in LateMedieval France. Turnhout: Brepols. Jones, Chris (2015a). ‘Geoffroi of Courlon and Political Perceptions in Late Medieval France.’ Viator 47: 153–189.

268

rolston

Jones, Chris (2015b). ‘Historical Understanding and the Nature of Temporal Power in the Thought of John of Paris.’ In John of Paris: Beyond Royal and Papal Power. Ed. Chris Jones. Turnhout: Brepols. 77–111. Jones, Chris (2017). ‘Undefined Terms: Empires and Emperors in Late Medieval French Thought.’ The Medieval History Journal 20 (2): 319–353. Jones, Chris (2018). ‘Diener zweier Herren? Jean Quidort und das Problem der königlichen Autorität.’ Jahrbuch für Universitätsgeschichte 19 (2016): 153–187. Lake, Justin (2015). ‘Current Approaches to Medieval Historiography.’ History Compass 13 (3): 89–109. Lamarrigue, Anne-Marie (2000). Bernard Gui (1261–1331): Un historien et sa méthode. Paris: Honoré Champion. Latowsky, Anne A. (2013). Emperor of the World: Charlemagne and the Construction of Imperial Authority. Ithaca, NY: Cornell up. Lawrence, C.H. (1994). The Friars: The Impact of the Early Mendicant Movement on Western Society. London: Longman. Le Goff, Jacques (2014). In Search of Sacred Time: Jacobus de Voragine and the Golden Legend. Trans. Lydia G. Cochrane. Princeton: Princeton up. Leite, Mariana (2020). ‘Translatio Imperii, translatio linguarum? On Medieval Universal Chronicles Produced around the Holy Roman Empire.’ Medieval Chronicle 13: 131– 148. Mierau, Heike Johanna (2005). ‘Das Reich, Politische Theorien und die Heilsgeschichte: Zur Ausbildung eines Reichsbewußtseins durch die Papst-Kaiser-Chroniken des Spätmittelalters.’ Zeitschrift für Historische Forschung 32 (4): 543–573. Mierau, Heike Johanna (2006). ‘Die Einheit des imperium Romanum in den PapstKaiser-Chroniken des Spätmittelalters.’ Historische Zeitschrift 282 (2): 281–312.s Mulchahey, M. Michele (1998). First the Bow is Bent in Study: Dominican Education Before 1350. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies. Paulmier-Foucart, Monique, and Serge Lusignan (1990). ‘Vincent de Beauvais et l’histoire du Speculum Maius.’ Journal des savants. 97–124. M. Paulmier-Foucart, Monique, Serge Lusignan, and Alain Nadeau, eds. (1990). Vincent de Beauvais: Intentions et réceptions d’une œuvre encyclopédique au Moyen-Âge. Paris: Vrin. Paulmier-Foucart, Monique, and Marie-Christine Duchenne (2004). Vincent de Beauvais et le Grand miroir du monde. Turnhout: Brepols. Prudlo, Donald S. (2010). ‘The Friars Preachers: The First Hundred Years of the Dominican Order.’ History Compass 8 (11): 1275–1290. Robinson, I.S. (1988). ‘Church and papacy.’ In Burns (1988). 252–305. Roest, Bert (2003). ‘Late Medieval Institutional History.’ In Deliyannis (2003). 277– 316. Sommerlechner, Andrea (1999). Stupor Mundi? Kaiser Friedrich ii. und die mittelalter-

martin of opava and dominican understandings

269

liche Geschichtsschreibung. Vienna: Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sprandel, Rolf (2003). ‘World Historiography in the Late Middle Ages.’ Trans. Kristin E. Thomas. In Deliyannis (2003). 157–179. Stuckey, Jace (2008). ‘Charlemagne as Crusader?: Memory, Propaganda, and the Many Uses of Charlemagne’s Legendary Expedition to Spain.’ In The Legend of Charlemagne in the Middle Ages: Power, Faith, and Crusade. Ed. Matthew Gabriele and Jace Stuckey. New York: Palgrave. 137–152. Von den Brincken, Anna-Dorothee (1987). ‘Martin von Troppau (Martinus Polonus).’ In Die deutsche Literatur des Mittelalters: Verfasserlexikon 6. Ed. Kurt Ruh et al. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. 158–166. Von den Brincken, Anna-Dorothee (1988). ‘In una pagina ponendo pontifices, in alia pagina imperatores: Das Kopien der tabellarischen Papst-Kaiser-Chronik des Martin von Troppau.’ Revue d’histoire des textes 18: 109–136. Von den Brincken, Anna-Dorothee (2010). ‘Martin of Opava.’ In emc 2. Ed. Graeme Dunphy. Leiden: Brill. 1085–1088. Von den Brincken, Anna-Dorothee (2014). ‘Einleitung.’ See [Martin of Opava] Martin von Troppau Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum. Watt, J.A. (1988). ‘Spiritual and temporal powers.’ In Burns (1988). 367–423. Watts, John (2009). The Making of Polities: Europe 1300–1500. Cambridge: cup. Weiland, Ludwig (1872). ‘Introduction.’ See [Martin of Opava] Martini Oppaviensis chronicon pontificum et imperatorum. 377–397. Wilson, Peter H. (2017). The Holy Roman Empire: A Thousand Years of Europe’s History. London: Penguin.

13 Review Article: The Bergh Chronicle Manuscript: History of a Codex, a Codex Full of Histories Jelmar Hugen and Anna de Bruyn

Abstract In 2017 the fifteenth-century Bergh chronicle manuscript was returned to its supposed original home, castle Huis Bergh in the Netherlands. The codex contains the oldest extant chronicle of the duchy of Guelders, and various other chronicles on territories in or near the Rhine-Meuse region. Especially striking are its extensive illustration program and a coat of arms of the Lords of Bergh, its bipartite compositional structure and intriguing production history. To mark the manuscript’s return home, a research team undertook a thorough study of the manuscript’s material, literary and historiographic features. Their results have been published in two books: one for a wide readership, and one scholarly edited volume, both in Dutch. This review article summarizes and discusses both publications in order to present them to an international readership. In doing so, it simultaneously provides an introduction to the Bergh chronicle manuscript itself, indicating the most important new findings and flagging up issues that invite further study.

1

Introduction

It is rare for a medieval chronicle manuscript after many centuries to be returned to its original home. Yet this is precisely what happened when in 2016 a fifteenth-century Dutch chronicle manuscript quite unexpectedly re-emerged into the spotlight. That year the manuscript now known as the Berghse kroniekenhandschrift (Bergh chronicle manuscript) was put up for sale at the European Fine Art Fair (tefaf) in Maastricht.1 The book contains not only the oldest extant chronicle of the duchy of Guelders, but also various other works,

1 ‘s-Heerenberg, Huis Bergh, inv. nr. 2095. A digital facsimile will be made available via: https://​ www.huisbergh.nl/, and an edition via https://dbnl.nl/. On the Bergh chronicle manuscript, see also Wüstefeld (2018: 144–151).

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_014

the bergh chronicle manuscript

271

among which are chronicles of Cologne and Münster and chronicle material ultimately based on Martin of Opava. Especially striking is the manuscript’s extensive illustration program of colored pen and ink drawings. A coat of arms on the first folio places its early provenance in Huis Bergh (House of Bergh), home of the Lords of Bergh, even though no chronicle of Bergh is present in the manuscript (nor is one known to exist). This large castle in ’s-Heerenberg (Guelders) in the Netherlands now houses a private museum, which acquired the manuscript in 2017, thereby returning it to its likely original home. To mark the manuscript’s return home a research team was formed to unravel its complex and intricate history. Twenty experts from diverse literary, art- and book-historical disciplines joined forces to shed new light on the manuscript’s composition, content and function. Their extensive studies resulted in an exhibition entitled Kracht van Kronieken (The Power of Chronicles), as well as a book for the general public by Johan Oosterman and an edited volume by Wim van Anrooij and Jeanne Verbij-Schillings.2 Johan Oosterman’s Het Berghse kroniekenhandschrift. Begin van de Gelderse geschiedschrijving (The Bergh Chronicle Manuscript. The Beginning of Historical writing in Guelders) provides an introduction to the manuscript and its historical context, especially its political relation to the duchy of Guelders. The edited volume, Het Berghse kroniekenhandschrift. Ontstaan, inhoud en functie van een laatmiddeleeuws geschiedenisboek (The Bergh Chronicle Manuscript. Composition, Content and Function of a Late Medieval History Book), in twenty-one detailed chapters reports on the researchers’ findings. Both publications reveal how the manuscript forms an important new source of knowledge of late medieval historiography and of chronicles as material and literary objects. In this review article we discuss both the study by Johan Oosterman and the edited volume by Wim van Anrooij and Jeanne Verbij-Schillings, to present these two Dutch publications to an international readership. Both publications combine thorough scrutiny of material and textual details with the exploration of broader historiographic and political questions. Johan Oosterman’s book for a wide readership does this by examining the manuscript in the context of medieval history writing. He compellingly shows how the chronicles, and especially the chronicle of Guelders, could have functioned in a period of political crisis to legitimize matters of succession and territ-

2 The exhibition ‘The Power of Chronicles. Gelderland’s oldest history book comes home’ (Kracht van kronieken. Het oudste geschiedenisboek van Gelderland komt thuis) took place from 21 August to 14 November 2021.

272

hugen and de bruyn

orial claims. This publication presents many of the conclusions which are further expounded on in the edited volume. The latter reports in great detail on the findings by the project team. After a historical overview of the Lords of Bergh by Peter Bresser, the remaining chapters are divided into two sections. The first, which deals with the manuscript’s composition, relies on detailed observations of the codicological aspects in chapters by Anne Korteweg, Ed van der Vlist, Marieke van Delft, Jan Storm van Leeuwen and Jos Biemans. The second section concerns the manuscript’s content and function. Structural, visual and linguistic features are discussed in chapters by Mark Visscher, Rob Dückers, Jeanne Verbij-Schillings and Rita Schlusemann. The subsequent chapters by Era Gordeau, Dirk Schoenaers, Jeroen Reyniers, Johan Oosterman, Remco Sleiderink and Mark Visscher, Wim van Anrooij, Robert Stein and Wilma Keesman each address an individual chronicle or a specific textual or visual detail. The volume concludes with a chapter by Bram Caers on the compiler’s historiographical approach and a chapter by Aart Noordzij, arguing that the compilation reflects an ongoing search for a useful historiographical framework for the territories in the Lower Rhine-Meuse region. Although each chapter reflects its respective author’s (or authors’) high level of specialist expertise, the volume is evidently the result of fruitful collaboration: the footnotes explicitly mention the researchers sharing their insights and reviewing each other’s work. Therefore the following discussion does not address each chapter individually, but instead works thematically, grouping related chapters and sections around specific topics and conclusions. After a brief introduction into the manuscript’s recent acquisition and its relevance for Huis Bergh and for the study of chronicles in general, the main body of the article discusses the content of the two publications. It first addresses the findings on the codex’s material and visual aspects, with particular attention to what these aspects reveal about its origins. A second section focuses on the studies of the manuscript’s content and its historiographic context. For reference, English translations of the titles of the essays in the edited volume have been included at the end.

2

A Remarkable Acquisition

The codex was previously known as the Anholter Chronikenhandschrift, as it was kept at the library of Wasserburg Anholt (Fürstliche Salm-Salm’sche Bibliothek, ms 42), a castle located only some fifteen kilometers from Huis Bergh just across the German border. Since its sale by Jörn Günther Rare Books the manuscript now forms part of a collection of about 170 manuscripts, incun-

the bergh chronicle manuscript

273

ables and single leaves at castle Huis Bergh.3 This library, as well as a myriad of medieval and renaissance paintings, sculptures and furniture, was amassed by the industrialist Jan Herman van Heek who bought the medieval castle in 1912.4 Thus, the acquisition of the Bergh chronicle manuscript, whose origins are likely tied to Huis Bergh, is a significant addition to the collection. Moreover, it adds to the current understanding of the history of the castle and its environs, along with the extensive archives of the lords of Bergh still kept there. More generally, the Bergh chronicle manuscript fills an important gap in the knowledge of Dutch historiography. The codex is the earliest known, and one of the few vernacular chronicle manuscripts, from the duchy of Guelders. The vernacular tradition of historiographical writings in the Low Countries originated in the thirteenth century and was initially largely centered around the county of Holland. There, at the court of Floris v, both a history of Holland (Rijmkroniek van Holland, c.1280–1282) was written, as well as a world chronicle (Jacob van Maerlant’s Spieghel historiael, a translation and adaptation of the Speculum historiale by Vincent of Beauvais).5 In the following two centuries more chronicles followed of Flanders, Brabant and Utrecht, where a rich tradition of historiography emerged.6 Very few chronicles are known from or of the duchy of Guelders. Prior to the second half of the fifteenth century no traces of vernacular historiography are found there, not even from the Heraut Gelre (Guelders Herald), who was one of the most prolific and active chroniclers of the Low Countries.7 The Bergh chronicle manuscript thus sheds new light on literature from a region little known for its vernacular chronicles. At the same time, in many ways the Bergh chronicle manuscript reflects the interconnectedness of historical writing between Guelders and its surrounding regions. The selection of chronicles firmly places it in the Lower Rhine region, in which Guelders as well as various German territories are located and which has a long and varied literary history.8 Consequently many of the new findings presented in the two publications are not only of value to scholars of Dutch history but also to those working on medieval chronicles in north-west Europe at large.

3 4 5 6

Korteweg (2013). Kutsch Lojenga-Rietberg (2000). See for these early works Claassens (2016). For a recent insight into the historical writings in these regions, see the contributions in Caers et al. (2019). 7 On the heraut Gelre, see Van Anrooij (1985 and 1992). 8 See Tervooren (2006).

274 3

hugen and de bruyn

Material Aspects

The Bergh manuscript is a sammelband made up of six codicological units, some with one, some with several chronicles, and one consisting of the front matter. It counts a total number of twelve independent chronicles. In his chapter on the manuscript’s structure, Mark Visscher shows how the chronicles are structured to provide a view of history following two strands: the first being ecclesiastical and the other secular. The ecclesiastical history strand opens with a chronicle of popes, an excerpt from a Middle Dutch verse translation of Martin of Opava’s Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum, followed by chronicles of the bishoprics of Cologne, Liège, Utrecht and Münster.9 The subsequent secular history part commences with a chronicle of emperors, a prose translation from an excerpt of the same Chronicon, followed by chronicles of the duchy of Guelders, the county of Holland, the duchy of Brabant, the county of Mark, the succession of French kings and the duchy of Cleves. Such a division between ecclesiastical and secular history is suggested to be based on the Chronicon by Martin of Opava, which follows a similar structure. At first sight the twelve chronicles might appear to constitute a uniform whole. They reveal a clear geographical unity, since they all relate to territories in the Rhine-Meuse region. Moreover, the layout displays a strong visual coherence. All chronicles are written in a similar book hand and illustrated with pen and ink drawings. However, closer inspection reveals that, far from being a uniform collection, the chronicles differ considerably in such aspects as length, source texts and even the use of rhyme or prose. Thus, this chronicle manuscript appears not to be the result of a preconceived project, but rather to have taken shape over time. Some of its codicological units were composed independently, before the others were added only slightly later, resulting in the current composition. To unravel the complexities surrounding the book’s production and assemblage, the researchers examined closely its codicological and other formal characteristics. The chapters by Anne Korteweg, Ed van der Vlist, Marieke van Delft, Jan Storm van Leeuwen and Jos Biemans each discuss one such formal element, from the binding to decoration and the type of paper. Although the chapters function as independent studies, the experts’ findings mutually reinforce each other to support the suggested dating, localization and compilation process.

9 The Chronicon by Martin of Opava is discussed in more detail by Elisabeth Rolston in the present volume; see her contribution: ‘Martin of Opava and Dominican Understandings of Imperial Power in the Later Middle Ages’.

the bergh chronicle manuscript

275

In his study of the manuscript’s codicological structure Ed van der Vlist notes that the Bergh manuscript was not written from beginning to end. Instead it can be divided into six ‘codicological units’, that is, six parts which each consist of ‘a discrete number of quires, worked in a single operation and containing a complete text or a set of texts.’10 Despite not having been created in a single operation the units’ visual and material aspects, the script (littera cursiva and semihybrida) and uniform book hand reveal that one scribe copied all chronicles and compiled them into one codex more or less around the same time (making it a monogenetic composite volume).11 The following table provides an overview of the six codicological units and their content.12

Codicological units (folia and quires) 1 fols.[a1]–[b4]

i–ii

Content (folia)

coat of arms table of contents 2 fols. 1–48 iii–vi chronicle of popes 3 fols. 49–59 vii chronicle of Cologne 4 fols. 60–[110] viii–xi chronicle of Liège chronicle of Utrecht chronicle of Münster 5 fols. 111–212 xii–xx chronicle of emperors 6 fols. 213–261 xxi–xxiv chronicle of Guelders chronicle of Holland chronicle of Brabant chronicle of Mark genealogy of French kings chronicle of Cleves

fol. [a1]v fols. [a2]v–[b1]v fols. 1r–42v fols. 49r–56v fols. 60r–74r fols. 75r–90v fols. 91r–106r fols. 111r–211v fols. 214r–222r fols. 223r–224v fols. 226r–231v fols. 232r–238v fols. 240r–241r fols. 242r–244v

Most strikingly, the experts conclude that the chronicles of Cologne (unit 3) and of the emperors (unit 5) were created independently from all other units. Unit 3 stands out because of its paper. As Marieke van Delft inferred from the watermarks in the paper, a small selection of paper types was used intermit10 11 12

Gumbert (2004: 23). Gumbert (2004: 27). A detailed codicological overview is given by Anne Korteweg (35–58) and Ed van der Vlist (59–68).

276

hugen and de bruyn

tently for the various chronicles. The only exception is the chronicle of Cologne, which was written on different paper entirely, with watermarks in the shape of the letter ‘P’ that do not appear elsewhere in the codex. This suggests that the chronicle of Cologne was not written at the same time as the other chronicles. Similarly, unit 5 with the chronicle of emperors must at first have been produced separately from the other units, as it contains traces of old foliation with Roman numbers starting with [I], even though it is not located in the front of the collection. Despite the apparent haphazardness of the collection there is nevertheless a strong coherence in layout. Therefore, as Anne Korteweg notes, at some point after the completion of these two chronicles of Cologne and of the emperors, but probably before finishing the other chronicles, the compiler-scribe must have decided to assemble them in the current structure and with the current layout. In short, the manuscript’s production was not straightforward, and the order in which the chronicles are currently presented was decided on during the production process. The exact contours of this process remain uncertain, specifically regarding the make-up of the codicological units, the organization of their production and the possible rationale behind both. The material makeup reveals much more, not only about the creation process, but also regarding the dating and localization.

4

Localization and Dating

The primary indication for placing the manuscript’s origin in Huis Bergh is the large colored coat of arms of the Bergh family on the opening page: a lion of gules on a silver field and within a border of sable, laid with eleven gold bezants, or roundels. This coat of arms was in use from at least 1244 onwards although the bezants are sometimes not eleven, but nine, sixteen or twenty in number. The climbing lion is depicted here without a crown, which deviates from other depictions and is probably a mistake by the draftsman. As Rob Dückers notes in his article on the decoration of the manuscript, the pigments used in the coat of arms appear similar to those used in illustrations further on in the manuscript, suggesting that the coat of arms is contemporary and not a later addition. The manuscript’s origin in or close to Huis Bergh is furthermore supported by Rita Schlusemann’s chapter on the linguistic characteristics of the chronicle texts, which places the scribe in the environs of Cleves. This leaves the question when the book would have been in the collection of Huis Bergh. An important relevant new conclusion is that the manuscript’s traditional and relatively precise dating between 1453 and 1461 should be abandoned. The

the bergh chronicle manuscript

277

terminus post quem for this dating was provided in the chronicle of Cleves, which refers to the wedding of Adolf of Cleves and Beatrice of Coimbra on 13 May 1453. The chronicle of Mark provided the terminus ante quem, as it mentions Charles vii as the current King of France, indicating that it was written before the king’s death on 22 July 1461. However, as Ed van der Vlist observes, both these chronicles of Cleves and Mark are located in the sixth codicological unit. He argues that, since the six units were likely not created in one effort, these dates are not necessarily representative for the creation of the other codicological units. Thus, the dating of 1453–1461 cannot straightforwardly be accepted for the composition of the entire codex. Regarding its assemblage, however, the terminus post quem of 1453 still holds, since the six units cannot have been assembled before the event in the year 1453 mentioned in the sixth codicological unit. Further corroboration of the approximate time of composition is gained through the detailed studies of the manuscript’s material features presented in the subsequent chapters of the edited volume. All chapters support a broader dating of c.1450–1460. Marieke van Delft’s careful study of the paper reveals that the watermarks can be dated roughly to the period 1450–1460. Jan Storm van Leeuwen’s chapter on the manuscript’s binding corroborates this, as the blind-tooled binding may be reasonably dated c.1460, although a later date cannot be ruled out. He furthermore notes that this is the oldest known binding with hand-stamped motifs from the Northern Low Countries. Similarly, Jos Biemans found that the maculature (that is, re-used leaves from another manuscript) used as flyleaves can be dated to the mid-fifteenth century. Accepting the dating of 1450–1460, the authors suggest Willem ii van den Bergh (1404– 1465) as the supposed first owner, as he was Lord of Bergh from 1416 to 1465. Alternatively it might also have been his son, Oswald i, Count of Bergh (1442– 1506).

5

Illustrations

Among the codex’s most striking and exceptional features are the colored pen and ink drawings interspersed throughout the text. In fact, no other illustrated vernacular compilations of chronicles are known from the Lower Rhine region. It is markedly more modest than the lavish chronicles commissioned by the Dukes of Burgundy, being deluxe manuscripts in Latin or French with refined miniatures on high-quality parchment. However, despite its unassuming appearance, with pen and ink drawings on both paper and lesser-quality parchment, it is one of the most luxurious chronicle books known from the

278

hugen and de bruyn

Lower Rhine region. The illustrations are moreover highly informative to the current-day researcher, providing further clues to the manuscript’s creation and origin. Currently 28 drawings survive of a set which probably originally consisted of 31 in total, as some leaves that likely held drawings are now absent. The chronicles of popes and emperors are the most lavishly illustrated, with a total of nineteen narrative drawings. The chronicle of popes, positioned at the beginning of the manuscript, opens with an impressive drawing of Christ handing the pastoral staff to Peter as the first pope. The other ten chronicles are each preceded by one full-leaf drawing depicting a ruler of the respective diocese or territory. The drawings introduce the chronicles and thereby visualize the complex structure of the large compilation, making it more easily navigable for the reader. These are not meant to portray a historical individual, but rather a vorstentype (princes’ type), a generic representation of the territorial ruler. As Jeanne Verbij-Schillings notes in the chapter on heraldry, however, the figures have been personalized by heraldic devices and other attributes indicating their episcopal or noble function. In addition, some chronicles open with a historiated initial containing the corresponding coat of arms. The drawings provide further clues as to the manuscript’s localization. A number of the figures of rulers are depicted in a landscape with a city in the background, which might in some cases be identified. In the drawing of the duke of Guelders, for example, one of the buildings in the distance may be the Valkhof castle in Nijmegen. As Rob Dückers suggests in his chapter, the draftsman would have known at least some of these places personally to depict the topography in such detail. This further supports the manuscript’s localization in Huis Bergh or its environs. In addition, the drawings are of art historical interest. Rob Dücker observes in their motifs and composition the influence of the Limbourg brothers’ visual language. The Limbourg brothers were famous miniaturists from the nearby city of Nijmegen and their compositions circulated widely, also in and around Guelders. These seem to have functioned, probably indirectly, as models for the Bergh manuscript’s draftsman. A particularly noteworthy drawing depicts Emperor Augustus and the Tiburtine Sibyl, which was, as Jeroen Reyniers observes, a novel iconography in the Northern Low Countries at the time. For the integration of the drawings with the text the draftsman must have collaborated closely with the compiler-scribe. The required spaces have been purposefully created or left open for the drawings to be added after completion of the texts. In some cases instructions to the draftsman can still be discerned, for example in the drawing of the Bishop of Münster, where it reads ‘monst[er]’. Thus, although the manuscript was not planned in its current structure from

the bergh chronicle manuscript

279

the very outset, at a later stage in its creation process the compiler must have decided to assemble the chronicles in this manner. This allowed him to attain the manuscript’s current uniform layout.

6

Textual Aspects

From its convoluted composition process the Bergh chronicle codex emerged in its current thematic structure of an ecclesiastic part consisting of a chronicle of popes followed by four chronicles on dioceses, and a secular part consisting of a chronicle of emperors, five chronicles of duchies and counties, and a treatise on the succession of the French kings. As the last ten chapters in the edited volume show, many of these chronicles contributed to bridging the gap between the universal and regional by placing the local history of the Lower Rhine region in a broader chronological and spatial context. The sources that form the basis for the individual chronicles and the composition of the codex as a whole play an important part in this effort. In his introduction to the content of the chronicle manuscript Johan Oosterman points out that many of these chronicles are based on well-known (Latin) sources. The chronicle of Liège, for example, goes back to the Gesta by Aegidius Aurevallensis, and the chronicle of Utrecht is based on the Catalogus episcoporum Utrajectinorum. Primarily the dual structure is inspired by the aforementioned Chronicon pontificum atque imperatorum by Martin of Opava, a popular chronicle of which some 500 manuscripts have come down to us, of which roughly 40 were produced in the Low Countries. As Dirk Schoenaers points out in his discussion of this chronicle, however, it is by no means certain that the compiler-scribe of the Bergh chronicle codex knew the Latin text, as both the chronicles of the popes and of the emperors from this work were consulted through Dutch sources. In her contribution Era Gordeau notes that the papal chronicle is based on a verse translation of Troppau’s work by the Brabantine clerk Jan van Boendale in his ethical-didactic history of the world Der leken spieghel (The Layman’s Mirror). According to an inventory from 1453 Arnold of Egmont, duke of Guelders, owned a copy of this text. According to Gordeau the adaptation of this text happened rather chaotically: parts of the text were moved around, bits and pieces were added or removed and in general the scribe made many scribal errors during his labor. The chronicle of emperors, on the other hand, is presented in a prose translation which is found exclusively in the Bergh chronicle manuscript. As Schoenaers notes, this translation is based on the so-called C version of the emperor chronicle of the Chronicon, as it includes an over-

280

hugen and de bruyn

view of Roman history. It is likely this translation originally also contained the papal chronicle, but that given the availability of the verse translation by Boendale this prose translation was excluded from the manuscript’s compilation. As was the case in the Chronicon, the combination of a papal and an imperial chronicle provides the framework for the compilation as a history of the world. Importantly, the compiler of the Bergh chronicle codex introduced a local and regional history to this framework by including smaller chronicles on different regions located in the Lower Rhine lands.

7

Embedding the Local in the Universal

One interesting way in which multiple chronicles in the Bergh codex bridge the gap between the universal and the regional is by introducing specific historical or mythical figures. For example, Wim van Anrooij explains that in the Cronijk van Gelre (Chronicle of Guelders) reference is made to five of the Nine Worthies, specifically the three pagan heroes Hector of Troy, Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar, and two of the three Christian heroes, Charlemagne and Godfrey of Bouillon (excluding King Arthur). These heroes function as worldly counterparts to religious figures mentioned in the introduction of the chronicle, who signify the division of the world’s history into six epochs as introduced by Augustine in his De civitate dei. As such, the chronicle of Guelders itself mimics the two thematic sides of the codex as a whole—ecclesiastical and secular—and locates the specific history of Guelders within the larger history of the world from Adam, Noah and Abraham through the classical to the medieval rulers. Similarly Jeroen Reyniers argues that one particular illustration in the codex, found in the emperor chronicle (fol. 137v), foregrounds emperor Augustus as a connecting figure between the classical Roman past and its transition into the Christian period. There are also chronicles that promote local history whilst simultaneously emphasizing the importance of the broader geographical Low Rhine region. Wilma Keesman identifies this dual emphasis in the chronicles of Cleves and Mark and the succession of the French kings, which form the last three texts of the manuscript. She argues that when these works are viewed together they promote the notion that the duchies form a unity. Importantly, Keesman notes, both Cleves and Mark have had their fair share of troubles during the fourteenth century when it came to the succession of their rulers. Towards the end of this century these troubles resulted in the two duchies becoming united, first temporarily under Adolf i, who following the death of Engelbert ii of the Mark

the bergh chronicle manuscript

281

in 1391 became duke of both regions, and then definitely in 1398 under Adolf ii of Cleves. As a result, Keesman argues, the history of Mark introduced in the Coronijck vander Marka (the Chronicle of the Mark) naturally continues into the Croniken der hertoighen Cleve (the Chronicle of the Dukes of Cleves). In order to facilitate such a reading, connecting both chronicles is a short treatise detailing the succession rules of the Salic law applied to the kings of France. This treatise uses the authoritative framework of the French kingdom to illustrate the natural succession from the house of Mark into that of Cleves, promoting a united view of the two local histories. Among the various territories within the Lower Rhine region represented in the Bergh chronicle manuscript, the duchy of Guelders takes a central place. Accordingly this chronicle features more than any other in both the edited volume and Oosterman’s publication, which also includes a translation of the text into modern Dutch (pp. 45–67). Oosterman argues that the combining factor between all chronicles in the Bergh chronicle manuscript is the geographical position of the duchy of Guelders: Guelders alone is part of all four of the dioceses discussed in the bishop chronicles, whereas the secular chronicles collectively make up all of the areas bordering Guelders. Structurally this emphasis on Guelders explains why the Cronijck van Gelre follows directly after the emperor chronicle. Furthermore the chronicles of Utrecht, Münster and Mark all include additions that add historical facts concerning Guelders, whereas comparable additions to other duchies or counties are not to be found. As will be discussed later, this emphasis on Guelders and the Low Rhine region may well reveal the intended use of the codex.

8

Innovation and Variation

Many of the chronicles found in the Bergh chronicle manuscript are not newly composed texts, but instead adaptations or translations of existing chronicles, and undoubtedly one of the strengths of both the edited volume and the book by Oosterman is their effort to describe as many of their sources as possible. This dependence on existing texts does not, however, imply that the Bergh codex is free of innovation or novelty. Aside from its coherence in layout, several chronicles contain elements not found elsewhere or introduce new perspectives on or variants of existing texts. For instance, the aforementioned illustration of emperor Augustus and the Tiburtine Sibyl is rarely found in chronicles, for which the Bergh chronicle manuscript is the only medieval source in the Northern Low Countries. Another example is the chronicle of Guelders, which is the oldest extant chronicle to discuss the duchy of Guelders as

282

hugen and de bruyn

an independent entity. Other instances are mentioned in the articles of Remco Sleiderink and Mark Visscher and of Robert Stein. Sleiderink and Visscher discuss the introduction to the chronicle of Guelders, revealing that despite its prose form this passage is in fact an adaptation of a well-known verse text. By comparing the prose version in the chronicle with known variants of the verse text from other manuscripts, they show the version in the Bergh codex to have been a significant node in the evolution of the text and its spread across the Low Countries. Stein’s article looks at the Cronijck van Brabant (Chronicle of Brabant), one of the shorter chronicles in the manuscript. Stein explains that in terms of its content, the chronicle is not particularly remarkable or ground-breaking. On the other hand, the compositional structure of the chronicle is unique in the context of Brabantine historiography and the text itself became very popular during the later fifteenth and sixteenth century, with six copies still in existence and a seventh copy known to have existed at some point. Stein compares these later versions with the text from the Bergh codex to determine how the text changed throughout time. One important conclusion is that all known manuscripts contain the first 36 strophes, each of which deals with a specific historical ruler of Brabant, but that from strophe 37 onward the versions start to divert. This observation allowed Stein to reconstruct the earlier versions of the chronicle and produce a stemma codicum of the existing manuscripts, which forms an important basis for future research on the Cronijck van Brabant. These chapters not only address different ways in which existing chronicles made it into the Bergh codex and how the manuscript itself played a significant role for the further spread of some of its contents, but also emphasize the importance of the codex as a source for further, comparative research on medieval chronicles and historiography.

9

Function

Several chapters in the edited volume offer a suggestion as to how the Bergh chronicle codex functioned, although the authors acknowledge that more research is needed here as much is still uncertain. This is largely due to the somewhat contradictory nature of the codex. For one thing, while the coat of arms at the start of the manuscript clearly points towards the Lords of Bergh, none of the chronicles make mention of Huis Bergh or its history. This raises questions as to its provenance and use. Additionally, the dyad structure, inclusion of multiple detailed drawings and the coherent geographical framework of the chronicles promote the view that the codex was structured with a clear intention

the bergh chronicle manuscript

283

(even if this intention only crystallized during the production process itself). In his contribution to the collection of essays, Johan Oosterman suggests this intention is linked to the historical events surrounding the duchy of Guelders after the first quarter of the fifteenth century, specifically the troubled succession of Duke Reinald iv of Guelders following his death in 1423. In an attempt to avoid further warfare and harm to the duchy, the chronicle collection in the Bergh codex would serve to point out the horrors of regional conflicts and make a plea for political stability and peace by supporting the claim of Arnold of Egmond as rightful duke of Guelders. Alternatively, or perhaps in addition to these suggestions, Bram Caers notes that the focus on the Lower Rhine region could be understood as an attempt of the manuscript’s compiler to focus on the internal cohesion of this region rather than on the Burgundian Empire in which Guelders lay at the very periphery. Whilst both plausible, at no point in the manuscript do we find any direct reference to either of these desires. What further complicates these possible functions is that despite its external appearance of cohesion and uniformity, the content of the chronicles is far less coherent and connected. As noted by multiple authors discussed here, there is little to no connection between any of the chronicles other than their geographical unity. Each chronicle is presented as a separate work, showing no interconnectivity with any of the other chronicles. This is most obvious from the three descriptions of the Guelders-Brabant conflicts in the codex, discussed by Bram Caers, which each present different points of view and as such were not adapted or edited to present a uniform view of the historical events. Furthermore, many of the chronicles stand out for their scribal errors, incompleteness in terms of their description of historical information, and a lack of narrative uniformity. Some are written in verse, others in prose; some are short, others long; some focus exclusively on individual rulers, while others address separate historical events. As a result, Aart Noordzij characterizes the compiler of the Bergh chronicle codex as a collector rather than a historiographer, and the manuscript and several of its chronicles as works in progress. Accordingly, some scholars have speculated how this muddled composition and vast collection of inaccuracies may inform us about the possible function of the manuscript. Johan Oosterman, for instance, in his book (p. 86) suggests that perhaps the many errors indicate that the book was not meant to be read in detail from cover to cover, but instead served a representative function as a material, symbolic object. Whilst we can agree on the likelihood that the work held some representative significance in the context of the politics of Guelders, too many elements of the codex suggest that its conception did include a desire and intention for it to be actually consulted. Most likely such use was that of a reference work, much like the Chronicon of Martin of Opava had been. Ele-

284

hugen and de bruyn

ments aiding in this use consist of the table of contents presented at the start of the codex as well as the directional markers included at the start of individual chronicles, such as the full-page miniatures linked to specific chronicles and the added parchment clover-shaped page tabs. This nevertheless does not solve the issue pointed out by Oosterman and his colleagues that a historical reference work with such glaring errors and omissions is hardly worth consulting. Further research on the manuscript’s intended users will likely shed more light on this intriguing question of the book’s function. Moreover, more insight might be gained by a comparison with contemporary chronicles to evaluate how much historical knowledge the authors had.

10

Conclusion

Het Berghse kroniekenhandschrift. Begin van de Gelderse geschiedschrijving and Het Berghse kroniekenhandschrift. Ontstaan, inhoud en functie van een laatmiddeleeuws geschiedenisboek both expertly introduce the chronicle miscellany newly acquired by Huis Bergh to a new audience, the former aimed at the general public, the latter at the scholarly community. Oosterman’s publication is well-written and accessible, and combines a wealth of high-quality illustrations with detailed descriptions of the codex and its historical context. The addition of a translation into modern Dutch of the Cronijck van Gelre is fitting considering the importance of this work to both the codex and Huis Bergh, but shows little connection to the rest of book and is relatively difficult to digest for the general public as it consists solely of brief descriptions of events in different years. The edited volume by Van Anrooij and Verbij-Schillings is arguably one of the most extensive and diverse introductions to an individual manuscript that has been produced in recent years, reminiscent of the 2015 volume on the Gruuthuse manuscript edited by Frank Willaert, Jos Koldeweij and Johan Oosterman.13 Each contribution approaches the codex from a different angle and as a result the work as a whole truly excels in foregrounding the wealth of content that the manuscript has to offer. There are, however, also downsides to this approach. Despite the efforts to create coherence in the chapters, there is still some noticeable overlap and repetition. Particular attention is devoted to the in many ways central chronicle of the codex, the Cronijck van Gelre, which unfortunately seems to have happened at the expense of the bishops’ chronicles that are underrepresented.

13

Willaert et al. (2015).

the bergh chronicle manuscript

285

Both their scholarly breadth and depth make these two publications a solid and thoroughly argued foundation for any future study of the Bergh chronicle manuscript. The preparation of a full edition of the manuscript was announced at the time of publication of the edited volume, which will make the chronicles even more accessible for textual, literary and historiographic scrutiny.14 This could motivate further study of the chronicles in relation to the wellpreserved archives still kept at Huis Bergh, which would likely reveal more about the political situation at the time of Willem ii, Lord of Bergh. Moreover, the manuscript’s material features could be explored further in the wider context of the art- and book-historical landscape of the time. Rob Dückers has already noted the tradition of illustrating texts with pen drawings in the Lower Rhine-Meuse region. The exhibition in Huis Bergh in 2021, for example, included an exceptional letter of complaint, illustrated with narrative pen drawings. This letter was written on behalf of Count Bernard of Meurs, who had been imprisoned in the name of his uncle, Duke Charles of Guelders, who had promised to free him, but neglected to do so. As the publications discussed here have shown, the Bergh chronicle codex is as much an example of local Guelders historiography as it is proof of the literary activities of the Lower Rhine region during the late fifteenth century. Considering Bergh’s location in what is now a border region between the Netherlands and Germany, as well as the inclusion of a chronicle of French kings in the manuscript, we believe that more international, interdisciplinary research into this manuscript, its content and its function will surely yield new and intriguing insights into medieval historiography in these borderlands. As the acquisition of the Bergh codex by Huis Bergh brought together scholars from a range of disciplines from across the Netherlands and Belgium, so too we hope that their collective work will encourage future interaction between scholars from across Europe and beyond.

The books reviewed are: Oosterman, Johan (2021). Het Berghse kroniekenhandschrift. Begin van de Gelderse geschiedschrijving. ’s-Heerenberg: Stichting Huis Bergh. Pp. 104. isbn 978-90-8704956-0. €15. Van Anrooij, Wim, and Jeanne Verbij-Schillings, eds. (2021). Het Berghse kronieken-

14

An early version of this edition was kindly made available to us by Wim van Anrooij and Jeanne Verbij-Schillings.

286

hugen and de bruyn

handschrift. Ontstaan, inhoud en functie van een laatmiddeleeuws geschiedenisboek. Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren. Pp. 392. isbn 978-90-87-0493-9. € 30.

Translated titles of the essays in Van Anrooij and Verbij-Schillings (2021) Introduction Marijke Bouwer, ‘Foreword’ (9–11) Wim van Anrooij and Jeanne Verbij-Schillings, ‘An interdisciplinary project introduced’ (13–18)

The Lords of Bergh Peter Bresser, ‘Bergh, the small superpower. The familial background of the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (21–31)

The Origin of the Bergh Chronicle Manuscript Anne Korteweg, ‘Codicological survey of the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (35–58) Ed van der Vlist, ‘The Bergh chronicle manuscript. Codicological and paleographical observations’ (59–68) Marieke van Delft, ‘The paper in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (69–84) Jan Storm van Leeuwen, ‘The binding of the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (85–89) Jos A.A.M. Biemans, ‘The pastedowns in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (91–101)

Content and Function of the Bergh Chronicle Manuscript Mark Visscher, ‘The Bergh chronicle manuscript: one or two collections?’ (105–114) Rob Dückers, ‘The decoration in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (115–141) Images of the Bergh chronicle manuscript (143–186) Jeanne Verbij-Schillings, ‘Heraldry in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (187–194) Rita Schlusemann, ‘Linguistic features of the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (195–209) Era Gordeau, ‘The papal chronicle in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (211–222) Dirk Schoenaers, ‘The influence of a “bestseller”. Martin of Opava’s Chronicon pontificum et imperatorum and the content of the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (223–241) Jeroen Reyniers, ‘Emperor Augustus and the Tiburtine Sibyl in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (243–260) Johan Oosterman, ‘The story of Guelders, at the center of the world. The Bergh chronicle manuscript and the beginning of Historical Writing in Guelders’ (261–275) Remco Sleiderink and Mark Visscher, ‘From the creation of Adam to the crucifixion of Christ. A widespread chronology in five Middle Dutch quatrains’ (277–288) Wim van Anrooij, ‘The chronicle of Guelders in the Bergh chronicle manuscript and the tradition of the Nine Worthies’ (289–298)

the bergh chronicle manuscript

287

Robert Stein, ‘Living past. The Cronijck van Brabant’ (299–315) Wilma Keesman, ‘Cleves and the story of the Knight of the Swan. About the Croniken der hertoighen Cleve in the Bergh chronicle manuscript’ (317–328) Bram Caers, ‘The Brabant-Guelders relations in the Bergh chronicle manuscript. Touchstone for the historiographic practices of the compiler’ (329–343) Aart Noordzij, ‘The Bergh chronicle manuscript. End product or work in progress?’ (345–353) About the authors (355–360) Bibliography (361–378) Index (379–392)

Secondary Literature Anrooij, Wim van (1985). ‘Dichter, kroniekschrijver en wapenkundige: Heraut van Gelre en zijn werk.’ Literatuur 2: 244–251. Anrooij, Wim van (1992). ‘Gelre Herald and late medieval chivalric culture.’ Coat of Arms 160: 337–344. Caers, Bram, Lisa Demets and Tineke van Gassen, eds. (2019). Urban History Writing in North-Western Europe (15th–16th Centuries). Special issue of Studies in European Urban History (1100–1800) 47. Turnhout: Brepols. Claassens, Geert H.M. (2016). ‘Niederländische Chronistik im Mittelalter.’ In Wolf and Ott (2016). 577–608 Gumbert, J.P. (2004). ‘Codicological Units: Towards a Terminology for the Stratigraphy of the Non-Homogeneous Codex.’ Signo e Testo 2: 17–42. Korteweg, Anne S., ed. (2013). Catalogue of medieval manuscripts and incunabula at Huis Bergh Castle in ’s-Heerenberg. Leiden: Primavera Pers. Kutsch Lojenga-Rietberg, Annemarie (2000). Huis Bergh, kasteel-kunst-geschiedenis. ’sHeerenberg: Stichting Huis Bergh. Tervooren, Helmut (2006). Van der Masen tot op den Rijn. Ein Handbuch zur Geschichte der mittelalterlichen volkssprachlichen Literatur im Raum von Rhein und Maas. Berlin: Erich Schmidt Verlag. Willaert, Frank, Jos Koldeweij and Johan Oosterman, eds. (2015). Het Gruuthusehandschrift: literatuur, muziek, devotie rond 1400: internationaal congres Brugge, 25–27 april 2013. Gent: kantl. Wolf, Gerhard, and Norbert Ott, eds. (2016). Handbuch Chroniken des Mittelalters. Berlin: De Gruyter. Wüstefeld, Wilhelmina C.M. (2018). ‘Compilation of twelve chronicles in the vernacular.’ In Wüstefeld and Nettekoven (2018). 144–151. Wüstefeld, Wilhelmina C.M., and Ina Nettekoven (2018). Celebrating the Past. Sixty medieval manuscripts. Catalogue 14. Stalden/Basel: Dr. Jörn Günther Rare Books.

Book Reviews

∵ Ed. and Trans. Alison Williams Lewin, Bindino da Travale, Chronicle (1315–1416), Renaissance and Reformation Texts in Translation 15. Toronto: Centre for Renaissance and Reformation Studies, 2021. Paper. Pp. 314; 2 Color Figures; 1 Map. $ 49.95. isbn 978-0-7727-2515-8.

The Chronicle of Bindino da Travale is a rather unusual work. Composed late in life by a modest artist-artisan of Siena, it represents what a literate but relatively uneducated citizen felt was worth recording for collective memory. As the editor, Alison Lewin, points out in her lively and informative introduction, what Bindino chooses to commemorate, and, in particular, what he chooses to omit, reveal his personal mentality and offer insights into the popular culture of the day. Strikingly, Bindino almost totally ignores what was happening internally within Siena. Since he was not a member of his city’s ruling group, it is, perhaps, understandable that he should not discuss the political conflicts and changes occurring in his city. However, he also neglects important local events such as famines and other natural disasters, while there is no sign of the mercantile desire to render a statistical analysis of urban life, as is evident in the famous chronicle of Giovanni Villani. Rather, the author concentrates on what we might call high politics or the actions of the leading political figures of his day, and here again his choice is somewhat surprising. He rarely refers to the powerful and aggressive Duke of Milan, Giangaleazzo Visconti, even though Siena accepted Visconti as its lord from 1399 until 1402. Levin appropriately suggests that Bindino’s omission arises from his patriotism and his desire to present Siena as a free and independent commune. Instead of the Visconti, Bindino makes the house of Anjou the main protagonists of his chronicle and devotes much of his attention to the conflicts among its different branches for control of the Kingdom of Naples. In particular Bindino concentrates on Ladislaus of Durazzo, who conquered Naples in the last decades of the fourteenth century and held the Kingdom until his death in 1414. Bindino’s choice of subject matter is explicable in part because the quarrels within the house of Anjou deeply affected the foreign policy of other Italian city-states, including the city

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_015

Book Reviews

289

of Siena, and were a major factor in another of the principal issues Bindino discusses, the Schism in the Church, which lasted from 1378 to 1417. However, in addition, as the editor points out, Bindino’s interest in Ladislaus seems to arise from an admiration for the King, whom he presents as a successful ruler and military leader, even though the Angevin was a dangerous enemy of Siena. The exploits of the King and the warriors around him may also have represented to Bindino the aristocratic, warrior ethos popular in Italy at the time. Levin appropriately suggests that Bindino was influenced by the strong chivalric tradition kept alive by the cantastorie who roamed the peninsula, giving oral recitations of the deeds of heroic knights. As she points out, Bindino often reverts to rhyme in his narrative, possibly imitating these oral performances. Thus, Bindino’s chronicle would share some elements with the popular literature of the day, an aspect emphasized by the author’s obvious efforts in certain cases to elevate his language to a high literary level. Bindino’s chronicle frequently impresses by the quantity of detail it contains; besides long lists of courtiers and military commanders, he includes the names of magistrates and ambassadors, and even presents the speeches given by many of these ambassadors in their official missions. As Levin points out, this information sometimes goes beyond that provided in other accounts of the day and Bindino’s chronicle may thus furnish a unique contribution to the history of his time, even if it is not always possible to verify the accuracy of his material. It seems surprising that a humble citizen like Bindino could gain access to so much news; probably, as Levin points out, he questioned eyewitnesses, whether Sienese ambassadors, Sienese citizens acting as soldiers or servants elsewhere, merchants and travellers. Presumably Bindino kept notes of what he heard as long as he could write, and Levin reasonably suggests that he drew on this written work to compose the chronicle in the later years of his life. At that point, however, he had suffered some illness which forced him to rely on an amanuensis, usually his son Giovanni. The use of dictation gives a particular character to the work, as Bindino relied to some degree on his memory and even on his imagination. Frequently, at the beginning of a chapter, Bindino’s son asserts that his father is old, that his mind is therefore confused and that what he dictates arises from fantasy. Probably this repeated refrain (occasionally rhymed) is intended to be amusing, but it does raise doubts about the accuracy of the work. Certain elements in particular seem the product of Bindino’s fantasy, e.g. the ambassadors’ speeches and the long, rather mystical description of Noah’s Ark inserted without explanation as the speech of a Sienese Captain of the People (chapters 220–221). These issues regarding the veracity of Bindino’s account lend weight to the editor’s assertion that the major value of the chronicle lies in illustrating how its

290

Book Reviews

author received and processed information, while it also reveals the mentality of the author and the popular culture which formed it. Notable, as suggested above, is Bindino’s interest in poetry, evident in the way he incorporates not only rhymed statements but also short poems into his work. Some of his poetry is quite lovely, and, as Levin points out, it was influenced by popular verse of the day and by major figures such as Dante. Clearly Dante’s Divine Comedy exercised an important influence on Bindino’s literary aspirations; the great poet is explicitly mentioned twice in the work, and certain passages, such as the description of Noah’s ark, are inspired to some degree by Dante’s work. Also visible is Bindino’s concern for rhetoric, expressed above all in the emphasis he gives to ambassadors’ speeches, and in his attempts to reach heights of eloquence is his rendition of what these orators said. While these speeches occasionally contain a reference to classical history (of which Bindino’s knowledge was clearly very limited), they reveal above all the religious orientation of the author’s thought, undoubtedly inspired by devotional literature, by religious drama and, possibly, by membership in a lay religious confraternity. A final interest of Bindino’s was astronomy/astrology, demonstrated by his frequent references to the movements of the celestial bodies and by his tendency to mark time according to the revolutions of the sun; this interest too was probably encouraged by writers such as Dante. Thus Bindino’s work serves to illustrate a popular urban culture oriented toward literary, rhetorical and astrological currents of thought—an appropriate bedrock for the intellectual developments of the Renaissance. As regards the text itself, only one manuscript exists and it remained incomplete with the death of the amanuensis Giovanni in 1417. This manuscript must have been intended as a clean or presentation copy, as it is carefully written and contains a number of pen and ink miniatures; these were presumably done by Bindino’s son Giovanni who was an artist, like his father. Some of these are reproduced in the Chronicle and, rather charmingly, represent Bindino and his son Giovanni, even in the act of composition. The Chronicle was previously published, in Italian, at the beginning of the twentieth century by a local ecclesiastic and historian, Vittorio Lusini. To judge from Lusini’s edition, Bindino’s work presents immense challenges to the translator. He writes in a colloquial Italian, uses obsolete vocabulary, does not complete his sentences, is repetitive, and his language can be so convoluted as to seriously obscure his meaning. Levin has made a valiant effort to render this difficult language into comprehensible English, and has generally succeeded. However, at times the translation too becomes a little obscure. In fact, a comparison with Lusini’s edition shows up fairly frequent differences between the two versions, often slight, but at times enough to alter the meaning of the text. It is not clear whether Levin

Book Reviews

291

is implying that Lusini’s transcription contains errors, but, if that is the case, it should have been stated, as, otherwise, the reader is left in doubt as to the correct reading. Levin’s English translation is intended for both advanced scholars and those without much knowledge of Italian or of medieval history. The introduction therefore includes considerable historical background as well as what little is known about Bindino and his family. Notes accompanying the text provide further explanation of individuals and events, rendering the chronicle accessible not only to specialists but also to a wider audience. Levin is thus to be congratulated on her achievement in increasing the number of primary sources available to students of medieval Italian history, many of which, like Bindino’s Chronicle, are of difficult comprehension to those without long experience in the field. Paula Clarke

292

Book Reviews

Eds. Anne Curry and Rémy Ambühl, A Soldiers’ Chronicle of the Hundred Years War: College of Arms Manuscript M9, Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2022. Pp. 455; 4 Maps; 5 Facsimile Pages; 7 Tables; isbn 978-1-84384-619-2. £ 95; $ 140.00.

Anne Curry and Rémy Ambühl’s edition of A Soldiers’ Chronicle of the Hundred Years War—and no, the apostrophe is not misplaced—is an important contribution to our knowledge of the Hundred Years War. This 35-folio prose chronicle, covering the war from Henry v’s invasion of France in 1415 to the siege of Orléans in May 1429, is found in the compilation of fifteenth- and sixteenthcentury texts in London, College of Arms ms M9, fols. 31r–66v. It was known in the early modern period, having been a source for Edward Hall’s The Union of the Two Noble and Illustre Families of Lancastre and Yorke (1548) and for the anonymous account of Thomas Montague, Earl of Salisbury, who died ‘in the Mids of his Glory’ at the siege of Orléans, in the Mirror for Magistrates (1559), the sixteenth-century follow-up to John Lydgate’s fifteenth-century series of tragedies The Fall of Princes. Although listed in a catalogue of books in the College of Arms in 1619 and discussed 96 years ago by B.J.H. Rowe,1 it had never been edited. This chronicle offers an account of the English war in France under Henry v and the early part of the reign of Henry vi and is unique among English chronicles (aside from annals) in having been a collaborative effort. While some chronicles by one author have continuations by others (e.g., Ranulf Higden’s Polychronicon), A Soldiers’ Chronicle was based on the work of four authors, two of whom, the Englishman Peter Basset and the German Christopher Hanson, were soldiers in the invading English army. Another, the Frenchman Luket Nantron, apparently wrote it, basing it largely on their accounts, and the fourth, William Worcester, acted as editor, supervising its writing and contributing details. The chronicle was sometimes cited in earlier scholarship as Basset’s Chronicle (see Nicholas Orme, ‘Worcester [Botoner], William,’ odnb [2004]) since Basset is the only one that Worcester mentions in his original draft of his incipit. He later inserted the names of Hanson and Nantron, and the editors believe that Basset was not involved in the composition of the version of the chronicle that survives. Begun in the early to mid-1450s, the chronicle, according to Worcester’s incipit, was written for Sir John Fastolf, who had fought with the English in France. Three of the authors—Hanson, Nantron and Worcester—served Fastolf in England in his declining years, with Worcester being his secretary and

1 English Historical Review 41 (1926): 504–513.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_016

Book Reviews

293

after his death one of the executors of his estate. The chronicle was intended to cover the years 1415–1450. Fastolf died, however, in 1459 when the chroniclers were writing about the events of 1429, and the authors apparently saw no incentive to continue their work. As the editors suggest, Fastolf would not have been the easiest person to work for and this may have been an assignment they were eager to drop. Of the authors the best known is Worcester, whose later works would include The Boke of Noblesse, originally intended for Henry vi but presented to Edward iv to support his invasion of France in 1475, the Itineraries, which discussed his travels through England in pursuit of his antiquarian interests, and a now-lost biography of his master Fastolf. He also collected papers relating to Fastolf that are now in the muniments of Magdalen College. The editors give impressively researched biographies of all four, particularly of Worcester. One reason for the Soldiers’ Chronicle’s importance is that it presents, more than any other contemporary chronicle, the fullest account of the English conquest of Maine, in which Fastolf was involved. The emphasis in the first part of the chronicle is upon the valiant deeds of Henry v. After his death in 1422 it shifts to the military triumphs of Fastolf, a shift that is not surprising since the authors were writing it for Fastolf and since Henry vi was an infant when his father died. Although the watermarks on the paper show that it was produced in England, the chronicle is unique in being the only English chronicle written in Central French, not Anglo-Norman, at a time when the knowledge of both in England was dying out. The last major English writer to use Anglo-Norman was John Gower in his Miroir de l’Omme (c.1380), and the jingoism of Henry v added to its decline. The editors point out that Nantron must have transcribed the chronicle since the French appears to be that of a native speaker. He would have based his work upon information compiled by himself and the others. The editors describe this work as a ‘chivalric chronicle’, a chronicle that presents long lists of names on both sides who participated in the various battles and sieges, including those of the Burgundians and French who supported the English and those of the Scots who supported the French. It emphasizes chivalrous behavior on both sides, perhaps, as the editors suggest, to enhance the victories of the English by showing that they fought and defeated great French knights. The English claim to France is assumed to be just and their victories are emphasized. To show how spectacular the English victories were, the authors, using a tactic long known to medieval chroniclers, vastly exaggerate the size of the French army (e.g., at the battle of Agincourt, the 9,300 troops of Henry v overcome 150,000 French soldiers).

294

Book Reviews

Unlike the English, however, the French were often unchivalrous, treacherous and cowardly fighters who broke the oaths they had made. Moreover, they, and apparently not the English, used guns, reflecting the authors’ disdain for this new type of weapon; particularly tragic was the Earl of Salisbury’s being shot by the French. Such views of gunpowder were fairly common: in Malory’s Morte Darthur, completed in 1469/70, the only character who resorts to its use is the villain Mordred. He besieges Guenevere in the Tower of London and ‘shotte grete gunnes’.2 This prejudice is shown even after the mid-seventeenth century in Milton’s Paradise Lost when, in the account of the war in Heaven in the sixth book, Satan’s secret weapon is gunpowder. Emphasis on the unchivalrous conduct of the French might suggest that the Soldiers’ Chronicle was produced for political propaganda, like the anti-Scottish sentiments found in the fourteenthcentury Anglo-Norman chronicle of Pierre Langtoft and the English one of Robert Mannyng. However, if that were the case, it would not have been written in French. The fact that it was indicates that it was intended for Fastolf without any expectation of wider circulation in England. This is a splendid edition, the result of tremendously detailed and meticulous scholarship. The French text is supplemented by an English translation. The editors did not choose to present a facing page translation as is often done. Instead, they edited the French text separately with textual notes at the bottom of the page. The footnotes to the English translation are explanatory and indicate the impressive amount of scholarly work that the editors did to identify the many English, Burgundian, Scots and French names included in the chronicle. Although some might prefer a facing page translation, the editors’ decision to present the chronicle as they have makes sense since explanatory notes and especially textual ones placed at the back of a book are often ignored. Here all the reader has to do is look at the bottom of the page. Besides the work of the editors, A Soldiers’ Chronicle includes excellent essays on the manuscript (Deborah Ellen Thorpe), the use of French in fifteenth-century England (Richard Ingham) and the Mirror for Magistrates (Scott Lucas) as well as a bibliography, a detailed index, maps, manuscript illustrations and tables. This edition exemplifies truly impressive scholarly work. Edward Donald Kennedy

2 Morte Darthur. 2 vols. Ed. P.J.C. Field. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2013. Vol. 1, p. 915.24.

Book Reviews

295

John Scattergood with Niamh Pattwell and Emma Williams, Trinity College Library Dublin: A Descriptive Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Middle English and Some Old English, Dublin: Four Courts Press Ltd, 2021. Pp. xxxvii + 366; 16 Colour Illustrations. isbn 978-1-84682-852-2. €55.00; £50.

The publication of this much-anticipated catalogue offers Middle English scholars a welcome opportunity to reassess the nature and range of the late medieval English texts and manuscripts held in Trinity College Library and the often eventful and sometimes mysterious story of their survival. By far the greatest bulk of the collection described afresh in this volume came from the remains of Archbishop James Ussher’s substantial library, a collection amounting to some 10,000 books, including perhaps as many as 700 manuscripts. In the introduction John Scattergood describes how it had suffered several vicissitudes (including more than a few losses) both during Ussher’s lifetime and following his death in 1656. Having been purchased for the State on the instructions of Oliver Cromwell, the library was temporarily housed in Dublin Castle until it was finally granted to Trinity College by Charles ii, some five years after Ussher’s death. One of the delights of this volume is that it reappraises just how the later history of these medieval books is so closely embedded in the story of Ussher’s career as ‘not only a bibliophile but an academic scholar and an important churchman with a penchant for controversy’ (p. xix). For John Scattergood and his colleagues to have demonstrated this so consistently and in such detail in their introduction and individual catalogue entries is a significant achievement. It serves as another important reminder that the Middle English manuscript holdings in one of the most important institutional libraries in Britain and Ireland are not simply the result of generous funding over the years or some longterm acquisition strategy decided by committee; they are instead largely built upon the interests, perseverance and changing fortunes of just one extraordinary and peripatetic Anglican bibliophile living through a time of crisis on these islands. Scattergood’s account of the manuscripts containing Middle English not only builds on previous accounts of the history of Trinity College Library and its holdings but anticipates also future research currently being undertaken for the Index of Middle English Prose (imep). In terms of previous scholarship this volume usefully acts as a companion volume for Marvin L. Colker’s two-volume descriptive catalogue of the Medieval and Renaissance Latin manuscripts in Trinity College Library, published by Scolar Press in 1991 (with a supplement by Colker published by Four Courts Press in 2008). Scattergood’s account now refreshes and updates Colker’s introduction. Moreover, because the focus of Colker’s catalogue is on Latin materials, the vernacular items sometimes sur-

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2024 | doi:10.1163/9789004686267_017

296

Book Reviews

viving alongside them in bilingual collections are treated in summary fashion by him or not at all in the case of textual scraps. Setting the two catalogues side by side is a useful and essential exercise in such cases since there is obviously some overlap between the two catalogues which Scattergood’s volume generally handles well. His descriptions include bilingual collections, or manuscripts of mainly Latin materials containing Middle English or ‘some Old English’ where the Latin materials are now granted summary treatment. On a few occasions Scattergood and colleagues have had to search hard to find the English vernacular texts included in predominantly Latin materials. Good examples of their assiduous and highly profitable search for the vernacular in this respect include the descriptions of ms 97 (p. 62), a late thirteenthcentury or early fourteenth-century manuscript characterised as ‘a massive collection of religious materials’ but containing just a single English couplet. Of interest too is ms 313 (p. 189), a substantial late fourteenth-century Italian copy of Latin saints’ lives by Jacobus de Voragine, where a Middle English marginal note written upside down apparently refers to the first line of a poem attributed to the Lollard William Thorpe. Closer to home, ms 347 (p. 201) is an enormous late thirteenth-century Irish miscellany of Latin sermon material and other monastic curiosities, where just nine lines of Middle English are embedded as the words of a wife in the ‘contra matrimonium’ section of Gilbertus Minorita’s Distinctiones. The summary account of the only vernacular English in ms 174 (p. 106) is of an entirely different order since it describes a substantial eleventh-century collection of mainly saints’ lives that on its front flyleaf includes the significant phrase ‘of searbyrig ich eom’ that confirms the book’s Salisbury origins. Conversely, there are a number of occasions where the bilingual manuscripts given summary treatment by Colker are described afresh with specific attention to new bibliographical and codicological details. The descriptions of the Middle English and related materials in mss 156, 157 and 158 (pp. 78–91), offer a useful case in point. All three books preserve copies of the Prick of Conscience as their major item so the task of describing them is clearly aided by the pioneering research of Angus McIntosh and Robert E. Lewis into the dialect and textual affiliations of the 117 manuscripts preserving the poem. The account by Scattergood and colleagues now offers considerably greater detail than has hitherto been available on manuscript provenance and later ownership of the books and the textual affiliation of the prose items also contained therein. In all three cases the catalogue entries are particularly assisted by Niamh Pattwell’s patient textual detective work on the Trinity College manuscripts for the imep. In his introduction Scattergood fully acknowledges Pattwell’s contribution and that of a former colleague, Emma Williams (the latter in providing

Book Reviews

297

transcriptions of some of the Middle English material under consideration) but the labour-intensive search that is already well underway to identify and describe the medical, scientific, informational and utilitarian Middle English items in Trinity College Library offers an excellent example of how truly collaborative teamwork of this kind can improve the quality and accuracy of a catalogue description that will now serve as standard. It is particularly pleasing to see how such ongoing research, which is unfortunately sometimes looked upon by scholars who should know better as a thankless or hopeless chore, is already bearing fruit. Readers of this journal will be particularly interested in the medieval chronicle materials preserved in the Trinity College Library. Scattergood’s index lists a total of 13 chronicle versions and related material preserved in 15 manuscripts, including five manuscripts of different me Prose Brut versions (mss 489, 490, 505, 506 and 5895); two manuscripts of Giraldus Cambrensis’ Expugnacio Hibernica in English (mss 592 and 593); two manuscripts, across which are copied a version of Robert Bale’s Chronicle of London (mss 509 and 604), and William Lambarde’s important 1563 transcription of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (ms 631). While there is much to admire in the catalogue descriptions of this material now offered by Scattergood and colleagues, it is important to note that some of the manuscripts under discussion in the catalogue, but not listed here as chronicle material, also contain material of interest. ms 392 is composite, forming what looks like ‘a kind of scholar’s notebook’ (p. 222) and contains a brief Latin Brut chronicle that, similarly to the composite ms 631 mentioned above, can also be associated with the Elizabethan mathematician, astrologer and antiquary, John Dee. ms 500 is a copy of the French prose Brut to 1333, also containing two Middle English lyric fragments on its flyleaves which have been derived from another manuscript and can be associated with the Clerkenwell Priory of the Knights Hospitallers of St John of Jerusalem. In all the examples quoted in this paragraph one can say that the descriptions offered by Scattergood and colleagues have added greatly to our sum of knowledge regarding the Trinity College manuscripts but that their greatest value comes when the catalogue is consulted side by side with Colker’s two-volume magnum opus. Finally, it is an irony worth noting that one will search in vain for James Ussher’s name in the index to this catalogue. Perhaps surprisingly, the only entry to be found under ‘Ussher’ is for a Mary Ussher (identity apparently unknown), whose name is written several times in the same sixteenth-century hand, and on occasion partially erased, in the margins of ms 278 (described pp. 179–181). Given the multitude of manuscript evidence suggesting Ussher’s lingering and ubiquitous presence in the collection, devising such an entry would have presented a formidable challenge for the hapless indexer. Nonethe-

298

Book Reviews

less, it still seems odd not to find Ussher’s name celebrated alongside those of so many others like him who may have owned, had significant access to, or can otherwise be associated with the Trinity College manuscripts under discussion: John Bale; Sir George Blage; William Camden; Sir George Carew; Sir Robert Cotton; John Dee; Llewys Dwnn; Sir Henry Gates; Sir Edward Hoby; Dr John Madden; Sir Henry Savile of Banke; John Stearne; Benjamin Tooke; Sir James Ware, et al. Ussher’s name nevertheless still stands out as pre-eminent in this hugely impressive new descriptive account of the English vernacular books in Trinity College Library. John J. Thompson