SAINTS are one of the most enduring and recognizable aspects of medieval society and culture. They characterized the regional and local diversity throughout the late Roman and post-Roman West while also becoming established as one of the defining elements of medieval religiosity throughout Christendom. But in the twelfth century something fairly new was happening in that the Church increasingly embraced the idea of canonizing secular rulers. In the twelfth century, king-saints were a product of a society that increasingly embraced a type of kingship and sanctity marked by a powerful ruling warrior class.

The twelfth century was a landmark period for the canonization of former kings and emperors: four major canonizations occurred during a twenty-year mid-century span. The German emperor Henry II was canonized in 1146, which was the first papal sanction of a former king's canonization; the English king Edward the Confessor in 1161; Canute, king of England, Denmark, Norway, and parts of Sweden, in 1165; and Charlemagne in 1165 at the Christmas court in Aachen under the direction of Frederick I Barbarossa. This trend would eventually come to include queens as well, with the canonization of St Margaret of Scotland and St Elizabeth of Hungary in the thirteenth century. At first glance, the association between Christian rulers and a sense of holiness and sanctity may seem obvious, but the developments that led up to this practice are extraordinarily complex. In fact, this was an exceptional phenomenon that would probably not have been anticipated throughout much of the early Middle Ages.

In particular, the canonization of Charlemagne represents a fascinating case study, revealing how his legendary biography was embraced to fit the new model of sainthood. For one thing, his canonization required a new, updated, vita. After all, Einhard's glowing panegyric was more than three centuries old and Charlemagne had accomplished quite a lot since that time, at least in legend. Nevertheless, few scholars have studied the Vita and the context in which it was commissioned and produced. This is not entirely surprising since the source is decidedly unoriginal in content, containing biographical material and several legendary stories already in circulation. However, what is new is the context, and the act of compilation itself. Seen in this light, it is an extraordinary source that demonstrates the depth to which the legend had penetrated Latin culture.