¹ There is a striking difference in the graphic, concrete delineation of what the Roman Bishop should not be in Marsiglio's Discourse II and the detailed but relatively colorless description of the ideal ruler in a ‘kingly monarchy’ in his Discourse I. Both Dante and Marsiglio attempt to fasten ancient Greek and Roman concepts of kingship onto the Germanic emperor without sufficient concessions to the medieval world to keep these vivid and relevant. Google Scholar

² The two extensively annotated publications of the Middle High German text are; Der keiser und der kunige buoch oder die sogenannte Kaiserchronik, ed. Massmann, H. F. (Quedlinburg/Leipzig 1848-1854), 3 vols., and Die Kaiserchronik eines Regensburger Geistlichen, ed. Schröder, E. in MGH, Deutsche Chroniken, Vol. I (Hannover 1892 [1964]). Fifteen manuscripts and seventeen fragments based on the twelfth-century text and two thirteenth-century versions (with chiefly stylistic changes) survived, apart from numerous adaptations and borrowings, to attest the work's contemporary popularity. The best single text, a copy from the late twelfth century contained in Codex 276 of the Augustinian Monastery in Vorau, Styria, appeared as Die Kaiserchronik nach der ältesten Handschrift des Stiftes Vorau…, ed. Diemer, Joseph (Vienna 1849). All the German works in Vorau Codex 276 were published in facsimile edition (Graz 1953-1958), of which Die Kaiserchronik, with an introduction by Pius Fank, Vorau Monastery Librarian, is the first of two volumes. The term Kaiserchronik was first applied to the work in 1807 by B. J. Docen, a Munich librarian, and, gradually gaining in acceptance, became virtually the only name used since Schröder's MGH text appeared in 1892. The work introduces itself as an (epic) song: ‘In des almähtigen gotes minnen / sȏ wil ich des liedes beginnen’ (In the love of Almighty God I will begin this song). It soon goes on to say; ‘Ein buoch ist ze diute getihtet / daz uns Rǒmisces rǐches wol berihtet, / gehaizzen ist iz crǒnicǎ’ (A book has been written in German, which gives us a good account of the Roman Empire: it is called crǒnicǎ [lines 1-2 and 15-17]). These and subsequent citations are from Schrǒder's text, given with a few changes in punctuation. Throughout his work, the author persists in citing ‘daz buoch,’ occasionally also in the plural, as the source for what he is telling. In reality, ‘crǒnicǎ (never mentioned by name again), ‘liet' (used a few times more), and ‘buoch' all merge into one, for the author does not separate his many sources from his own narrative. He is, in fact, most likely to lean on the phrase ‘the book tells us’ when he is treating historical items at the greatest remove from their traditional place in medieval historiography.Google Scholar

Concerning the work's origin, three fairly recent studies have the author writing in the early reign of Frederick Barbarossa, connecting the spirit of his work with the revitalization of imperial confidence after 1152; 1. Irmgard Möller, Die deutsche Geschichte in der Kaiserchronik, Diss., Univ. of Munich, 1957, explores a number of possibilities but stresses a connection which she sees between Charlemagne's thaumaturgic role in the work and that emperor's canonization in 1165. 2. Edmund E. Stengel, ‘Die Enstehung der Kaiserchronik und der Aufgang der staufischen Zeit,’ Deutsches Archiv 14 (1958) 395-417, and ‘Nochmals die Datierung der Kaiserchronik,’ Deutsches Archiv 16 (1960) 226-228; both cited below from his Abhandlungen und Untersuchungen zur mittelalterlichen Geschichte (Cologne/Graz 1960) 360-383. 3. Ferdinand Urbanek, ‘Zur Datierung der Kaiserchronik,’ Euphorion 53 (1959) 113-152. On the other hand, Friedrich Neumann disputes all evidence introduced by Urbanek and Stengel for a later dating and argues for the completion of the work before 1150 in ‘Wann entstanden Kaiserchronik und Rolandslied?' Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum und deutsche Literatur 91 (1962) 4.263-329. Eberhard Nellmann concludes that the author's idealization of the Empire prevents ascertaining its date with much exactness in Die Reichsidee in deutschen Dichtungen der Salier- und frühen Stauferzeit; Annolied — Kaiserchronik — Rolandslied — Eraclius (Berlin 1963) 82-147. Nellmann notes that he did not have a chance to use Neumann's study; I have, and I find his suggestions interesting but certainly not conclusive. The question of dating is relevant to the discussion of kingship only in this way; If the author wrote mainly during the 1140s, he was a visionary with regard to the possibilities of kingship, for the unity and stability of the Holy Roman Empire so central to his theme was severely threatened then under the pious but ineffectual Emperor Conrad III. If, on the other hand, he wrote after 1152, when things were looking up for the Empire under Frederick Barbarossa, his estimation of what good kingship could accomplish had a firmer basis in the realities around him.

³ As Massmann used for a primary title in his edition. A ‘reworking’ of the text — i. e., a modernization of it with many paraphrases, condensations, and insertions from other sources — also appeared as; Der Kaiser und der Könige Buch oder die sogenannte Kaiserchronik, ed. Mayer, Joseph Maria (Munich 1878). In his lengthy treatise on the dating question (note 2, above), Neumann lets quotation marks indicate that the ‘Chronik’ is something other than a chronicle.Google Scholar

⁴ ‘er rihte vil rehte / dem hěrren unde dem cnehte, / von der armen diete / nam er nehain miete. / der man gewan nie nehain sǒ grǒzen rǐchtuom, / daz er wider im wǎre dehain frum. / di verworhten und di vertǎnen, / di man solte stumbelen unde hǎhen, / di nehalf daz silber noh daz golt rǒt; / in was ie gerait der tǒt. / im getorste niemen gebieten / nehainer slahte miete, / den sculdigen getorste niemen gewegen. / er hěte ain kuniclǐch leben’ (5845-5858). Google Scholar

⁵ Dio Cassius told the story of how the emperor paused to grant a hearing to a woman who had rebuked him for saying he had no time as he passed by on a journey; however, he told it of Hadrian, like Trajan a model of monarchical excellence in antiquity but much less favored in the Middle Ages (Roman History, epit. of Book 69.6). The episode's connection with Trajan was probably suggested by a stone relief in the Forum of Trajan, depicting a conquered province as a female supplicant before that ruler. The story was passed on in the Middle Ages in a number of Vitae of Gregory I, whose prayers, according to some of his biographers, had released Trajan from the pains of hell when the great Pope took physical afflictions upon himself for the rest of his life (Gaston Paris, ‘La Légende de Trajan,’ Extr. des mélanges publ. par l'École des Hautes Études [Paris 1878]). Ernst Friedrich Ohly gives the genealogy of this and other traditional accounts used by the author of the Book of Emperors in telling of rulers before Charlemagne (Sage und Legende in der Kaiserchronik [Münster 1940 (1968)]). Behind the story of the man of God who healed a king through his own sacrifice, I tend to see the legend of Saint (but not Pope) Gregory the Illuminator, traditionally dated about 240-332, whose own great suffering and healing of the King of Armenia may have lent material to the growing legend of Gregory the Great. The chronology of the Book of Emperors is so arbitrary that alone it could never prove anything, but it may be admissible as supporting evidence: the author puts his redeeming Pope Gregory something over two hundred years after Trajan's death (line 6024). Since Trajan died in 117, an interval of two centuries would not nearly reach the pontificate of the historical Gregory I (590-604), but it extends to about the right time in the life of the Armenian Saint. Google Scholar

⁶ ‘Nieman ist sǒ hěre / sǒ daz reht zwǎre …’ (1-2). Cited here and subsequently according to ‘Vom Rechte ,’ Kleinere deutsche Gedichte des 11. und 12. Jahrhunderts, ed. Waag, Albert (Halle 1890) 66–81. Ingeborg Schröbler, “Das mittelhochdeutsche Gedicht vom Recht,’ Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 80 (1958) 219-252, gives a textual analysis.Google Scholar

⁷ Konrad was long thought to be the author of the Book of Emperors because of the huge number of very similar lines and phrases in the two works. From the publication of Heinrich Welzhofer's Untersuchungen über die deutsche Kaiserchronik des zwölften Jahrhunderts (Munich 1874), advancing Konrad as the author of both works, it was generally assumed for half a century that he had first written the Rolandslied and then borrowed partly from it for the Book of Emperors, although Wilhelm Scherer had raised objections to this thesis from the beginning ('Rolandslied, Kaiserchronik, Rother,’ Zeitschrift für das Altertum und deutsche Literatur 18 [1875] 298-306). Finally, Carl Wesle demonstrated the reverse relationship; Konrad must have borrowed from the Book of Emperors, and he occasionally did so badly, for several lines appearing in the Book of Emperors made sense enough in that work but not so much in Konrad's Rolandslied ('Kaiserchronik und Rolandslied,’ Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 48 [1924] 223-258). This was confirmed by Karl Bauer, Georg, ‘“Kaiserchronik” und “Rolandslied,”’ Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie 56 (1931) 1–14. Subsequent scholarship, including the most recent book, Dieter Kartschoke, Die Datierung des deutschen Rolandsliedes (Stuttgart 1965), has tended to assign the Rolandslied to the court of Henry the Lion, definitely after 1149 and possibly as late as 1172, but there is no real agreement about this. Neumann attempts to show that Heinrich Jasomirgott was the most likely patron and that the Rolandslied, as well as the Book of Emperors, was completed near the end of the 1140s (op. cit., 316-329). Konrad could, of course, have written the Book of Emperors first and then incorporated material from it into the Rolandslied, even where it did not quite fit, but there are enough stylistic differences between the two works to make this unlikely.Google Scholar

⁸ ‘… hǒrten die phaht lěren / die edelin juncherren’ (661-662). Cited here and subsequently from Das Rolandslied des Pfaffen Konrad, ed. Maurer, Friedrich together with Das Alexanderlied des Pfaffen Lamprecht (Leipzig 1940).Google Scholar

⁹ ‘“ vanitatum vanitas: / daz ist allez ein ǐtelcheit, / daz diu sunne umbe geit”’ (23–25 ). Cited here and subsequently from Maurer's text as in note 8 with a few changes suggested by the facs. ed. of Vorau Codex 276 (Graz 1958) 2 .109^a-115 ^a.Google Scholar

¹⁰ 'er ěrste bestunt in mit wizzen / unt lěrtin zedinge sizzen und lěrtin, wie er daz be-dǎhte, / daz er von dem unrehti bescheide daz rehte / unt wie er lantreht bescheiden chun-de …’ (215-219). Google Scholar

¹¹ (The messengers;) ‘ “herre tuot uns nehain ungemach, / wande ez ne dǔcht iuch gnǎde noch reht … / unde niene scentet iweren namen” ’ (1076-1077 and 1081). Google Scholar

¹² rihtaere, sometimes coupled with voget (‘protector' or ‘lord’).Google Scholar

¹³ ‘Nǔ wil ich iu sagen umbe den bǔman, / was er nach der pfaht solte an tragen: / iz sǐ swarz oder grǎ, / niht anders reloubet er dǎ; / gěren dǎ enneben, / daz gezimet sǐnem leben; / sǐnen rinderǐnen scouch, / dǎ mit ist des genuoch; / siben elne ze hemede unt ze bruoch, / rupfǐn tuoch. / ist der gěre hinden oder vor, / sǒ hǎt er sǐn ěwerch verlorn. / sehs tage bǐ dem pfluoge / und ander arbait genuoge, / an dem sunnentage sol er ze kirchen gǎn, / den gart in der hant tragen. / wirt daz swert dǎ zim vunden, / man sol in vuoren gebunden / zuo dem kirhzǔne; / dǎ habe man den gebǔren / unt slahe im hǔt unt hǎr abe. / ob er aver vǐentscaft trage / sǒ wer sich mit der gabelen. / daz reht sazt in der chunich Karle’ (14791-14814). Urbanek and Stengel arrived independently at the conclusion that a passage from Frederick Barbarossa's Constitutio de pace tenenda et eius violatoribus or ‘Landfrieden' of 1152 (earlier dated 1156) is of immense value in relating the part of the passage dealing with sword-carrying farmers to that Emperor's attitude toward a rising peasant class. This is doubtful. The analogous section af the Landfrieden reads like this: ‘Si quis rusticus arma vel lanceam portaverit vel gladium, iudex in cuius potestate repertus fuerit, vel arma tollat, vel viginti solidos pro ipsis capiat a rustico’ (cap. xii). First of all, the reader will notice that the passages are not astonishingly close. Even if ‘let his skin and hair be struck off’ is taken less than literally as a restrained scourging, there is a world of difference between this punishment and having one's weapons confiscated or being fined twenty solidi. No matter: Urbanek sees Frederick ameliorating ‘the cruel old customs’ documented by the Book of Emperors (op. cit. 149-150). Stengel, on the other hand, sees the Book of Emperors as taking a more severe stand than this early Landfrieden of Barbarossa, and points out that the first years of that emperor's reign witnessed a gradual change in favor of punishing offenses which had previously not even been criminal ones with physical retribution (op. cit. 366-367 and 382). But even if the severity-differences in the passages can be explained by ‘development’ of legal consciousness in one direction or the other, a second, more crucial, objection to viewing the two as necessarily related closely remains, because the Landfrieden says nothing of the punishment ‘according to the Law of the Empire’ for peasants who don fancy dress (first 12 lines cited above). Bell, C. H. cites the Book of Emperors as the first source mentioning laws which regulate peasant dress (Peasant Life in Old German Epics [New York 1931] 6 and 138 n. 6). These ‘laws’ in the Book of Emperors, however, are evidence of nothing more than the author's wish-fulfillment; we can only be sure that if he tells how an angel dictated to Charlemagne these strictures on peasants he — the author — thought such prohibitions would be all to the good. In this ardent desire to keep peasants in their place, he shares a sentiment in medieval Germany which is given literary expression for at least a century after he wrote. Neidhart von Reuental in his incessant tirades against sword-carrying and smart-dressing farmers makes it clear, certainly later than 1220, in his Winterlieder 14, 18, 24, 27, and, 28 (among others), that he would love to see something drastic happen to these uppity peasants; if anything, he finds their pretentious dress more upsetting to well-ordered society than their weapons. Wernher der Gartenaere in his Helmbrecht describes as nearly inevitable the fate of a farmer's son who puts on an ornate hood and begs his parents to provide him with more fine clothes, armor, and a steed, so that he can act like a knight. At great sacrifice they do, but Helmbrecht's knightly pretense is only a step on the way to out-and-out criminality and ultimately he has his eyes gouged out and a hand and a foot chopped off for robbery. Arriving home with some difficulty, he is turned away from the door by his tradition-respecting father, who ‘hǒnlachte, swie im sǐn herze krachte’ (laughed out in mockery, however much his heart was breaking — lines 1775-1776). This is a sentiment of the years 1260-1280 and is closer in spirit to the passage cited from the Book of Emperors than is the Landfrieden, which is not of very much help here in tying down the chronology of parallel ideas.Google Scholar

¹⁴ ‘kint der vürsten slaht / hiez er lěren die pfaht / hěre und rǐche …’ (15208-15210). Actually this is an emphatic paraphrase of Louis’ first act of office; ‘Alse Ludewǐch daz rǐche besaz / den vürsten hiez er sagen daz, / daz si die junchěrren / die pfaht hiezen lěren / nach Rǒmiscem rehte’ (15100-15104). The last phrase underlines the connection in the author's mind between Roman Law and the just governance of the Empire. The revival of Roman Law certainly did much to strengthen the concept of monarchical rule as the Middle Ages wore on, the later Roman tradition admitting the principle that the ruler's will had the force of law. This should not be taken as the author's literal intent, however. On the contrary, he clearly sticks with the conception of the king as bound to obey traditional law; secondly he notes a legitimate difference between Roman and Germanic legal tradition in the matter of trial by combat and ordeal (see below at n. 25). Nor does he mean here that Louis ironed out the differences, allowing Roman Law to prevail over Germanic custom in teaching the Law of the Empire, for he fully accepts the validity of the outcome in his account of how a later empress purged herself from accusations of adultery through an ordeal by fire (Richgard, wife of Charles the Fat — lines 15400-15515). Google Scholar

¹⁵ ‘Mit rǎte alsǒ wǐslǐchem / rihte der chunic daz rǐche. / er gebǒt ainen gotes fride; / nǎch dem scǎchroube retailte man die wide, / nǎch dem morde daz rat / — hai, welch fride dǒ wart ! — / dem roubǎre den galgen, / dem diebe an diu ougen, / dem fridebraechel an die hant, / den hals umbe den brant. / Der fride wuohs dǒ in dem rǐche. / der chunich rihte gewalteclǐche, / alse der vater dǎ vor. / ganz bestuonden diu urbor, / unberoubet unt unverbrant, / daz kint nǎch sǐnem vater vant / daz erbe alsö lussam' (15138-15154). It is possible that the author intended a play on words with the phrase ‘peace of God,’ which meant — as a conception and, from 1095 on, a formal institution of the Church — keeping the peace by abstaining from private warfare and acts of violence against the helpless. It was notoriously ineffective. The author may be saying here; ‘If kings want to have a real “Peace of God,” this is how to go about it.’Google Scholar

¹⁶ ‘frǐhait underwant er sich; / vil dike saz er obe spil, / so er solte rihten daz rǐche’ (16558-16560). Google Scholar

¹⁷ ‘Děciǔs mit menige, / der cunic mit venie; / Děcius mit gewaefen, / der cunic mit al-muosen; / Děcǐus mit gewalte, / der cunic mit ainvalte; / Děcǐus mit grimme, / der cunic mit guoter minne; / Děcǐus mit sěre, / der cunic wegete sǐner sěle’ (6133-1642). Google Scholar

¹⁸ 'als er ze rihtaere wart erchorn, / got er harte vorhte, / vil guotiu werc er worhte, / er kěrte all sǐne liste / ze dem hailigen Criste, / den begunder inneclǐche flèhen … der chunich Theodǒsius / genam im ainen site … daz er des morgenes nie nehain wort enre-sprach, / ě er daz hailige crǔce resach, / sǒ flǒch er ie die menige; / dǎ vor suocht er sǐne venie …’ (13070-13075, 13078-13079, and 13081-13084). Google Scholar

¹⁹ ‘Wer ist des rechtes meister? / daz sol sǐn der briestir, / der ist unsir liehtvaz’ (499-504) Google Scholar

²⁰ ‘… “iz gezimit ubele; / in allen dǐnen landen / sint irraere ǔf gestanden, / dannen wir gotes hulde muozen verliesen / unt ouch werltlǐch ěre verkiesen, / di unser vorderen unsich an brǎhten / unt si mit ir herscilte revǎhten. / si stǒrent uns den gelouben. / hěrre, dǔ solt uber si relouben / unt solt von diete ze diete / dǐn aehte uber si gebieten”’ (13392-13402). Google Scholar

²¹ ‘… “hailiger gaist, des bewar mich, / daz ich ě zǐt / iemen haize benemen den lǐp ! / ich haize Rǒmǎre voget / unt bin durch daz ze rihtaere gelobet, / daz ich rihte rehte / dem hěrren und dem chnehte”’ (13404-13410). Google Scholar

²² ‘“nǔ hǒren wir diu buoch sagen, / daz man den sundaere sule laden. / mit der velgen wider in ziehen? / mir geraetet daz niemen. hǎnt si mit der rede missevarn, / wir nesuln si umbe daz niht haizen reslahen. / nǔ hǒren wir diu buoch sagen, / daz unser vorvarn / lobeten ir sende / kǒmen der rede dǎ zende. / wir suln den armen unt den rǐchen / vil harte gedulte-clǐche / behaben mit guote. / jǎ was got selbe diemuote, / von diu suln wir in sǐnen minnen / die sěle gote gewuochern unt gewinnen”’ (13411-13426). Google Scholar

²³ ‘“die ràche suoch ich hin ze himele. / bruoder, wir suln iz gedulteclǐche tragen, / du nesolt ir nehainem niemer dar umbe werden zu scaden”’ (14526-14528). Google Scholar

²⁴ ‘Dǒ sprah der chunich hěre; / “daz newaere nehain gotes ěre, / daz man die mordaere sparte; / hai, wie sěr ez der christenhaite scadete ! / ich haize rihtaere unt voget; / durch daz pin ich gelobet, / daz ich rihte der diete. / weset ir als iu got gebiete ! / mit dem swerte sol ich di christenhait bescirmen. / si muozen iuh vil sěre arnen; / ich geriche iwer ougen, / oder sich wil mich des swertes gelouben”’ (14529-14540). Google Scholar

²⁵ ‘dǒ sprǎchen Romaere / daz iz ir reht niene waere, / si getwunges kaiser ě nie nehain; / si solten rihten mit ir vingeren zwain’ (14653-14656). Google Scholar

²⁶ ‘“von iwerem rehte netrǐbe ich iuh niht měre”’ (14664). Google Scholar

²⁷ According to Gregory of Tours, a false oath at the grave of this martyr would cause the perjuror to be snatched away by a demon or fall dead on the spot (Gloria Beatorum Martyrum, ch. xxxix, PL 41.740-741). In telling of the persecution of Christians under Diocletian and Maximian, the Book of Emperors notes Pancratius' martyrdom and the punishment (somewhat less dramatic than in Gregory's account) of perjurors at his tomb; they are severely afflicted for life and condemned to hell if they die before doing suitable penance (6465, 6477-6485). Google Scholar

²⁸ ‘“also di phachte tichten, / sǒ wil ich uber in richten”’ (8753-8754). Google Scholar

²⁹ ‘“Man scol iz iemer zi maere sagen. / daz wirz an im gerochin haben / unz an der welte ende. / Diu christinheit ist harte geschendet. / Des [gǎt] uns michel nǒt; / jane gescach nie sus getǎn mort”’ (8779-8784). Google Scholar

³⁰ ‘… daz gerichte uber si ergienge, / also di phaht lěrte’ (8866-8867). Google Scholar

³¹ …‘through briars and thorns, on his stomach and his back,’ not quartered by the pulling of horses in different directions, as is his fate in the familiar French Chanson de Roland. Konrad's Genelun is actually dragged to death less by Charlemagne's sentence than by three lines in the Book of Emperors, two — ‘wilden rossen zu den zagelen; / durch dorne und durch hagene’ (6355-6356) — describing Saint Hippolytus’ martyrdom, and one dealing with a faithless seneschal who is bound with ropes — ‘an dem bǔche und an dem ruke’ (12567) — and hurled from a bridge. Konrad borrows these instead of writing new verses appropriate to Genelun's execution, lines 9011-9013. (This point was crucial in refuting the idea that the author of the Book of Emperors borrowed from Konrad, rather than the other way around. Wesle, op. cit. 240-258, and Bauer, op. cit. 2-3. See note 13, above).Google Scholar

³² ‘alsǒ si in gelobeten / ze Rǒme ze ainem vogete / ir boten si schiere santen / ze jerusa-lěmisken lanten…. er sprach, daz er sǐn niht haben solte, / und daz er von rehte bǔwen wolte / daz lant daz er hěte bedwungen / mit sǐnem herscilte gewunnen’ (5101-5104 and 5109-5112). Google Scholar

³³ ‘“… werltlǐch ěre … / di unser vorderen unsich an brǎhten / und si mit ir herscilte revǎhten”’ (13396-13398). Google Scholar

³⁴ Nor is he alone. As Tannhäuser put hit somewat later; ‘Der ǔz Beierlant mak sich zu künigen wol gelǐchen, / ich gesach nie vürsten mě so milten, noch so rǐchen, / so rehte lobelǐchen’ (Bavaria's lord may well consider himself the equal of kings: I never saw any other prince so generous or so praiseworthy in his wealth and power). H. von der Hagen, F., Deutsche Liederdichter des 12., 13., und 14. Jahrhundert (Leipzig 1838 ), Vol. II, Part 2, v, 16, p. 88. The dukes of Bavaria, like the Norman dukes before the conquest of England, were often kings in all but name for centuries. In the eighth century, a Bavarian duke could be referred to as a princeps and his duchy as a regnum; hence Bavarian documents could be dated anno regni of such a duke as Tassilo III. In 772, Tassilo even had his son anointed by the pope in obvious imitation of the Carolingians, who had crossed the border into kingly status themselves only twenty years before (Herwig Wolfram, Intitulatio I; Lateinische Königs- und Fürstentitel bis zum Ende des 8. Jahrhunderts [Mitteilungen des Instituts für österreichische Geschichtsforschung, Ergänzungsband 21; Graz — Vienna — Cologne 1967], 166-168 and 183-184). Something more than a millenium later, the Wittelsbachs, who had been furnishing Bavaria with dukes from 1180 on — and who, incidentally, are seen by Urbanek and Stengel as possibly having commissioned the Book of Emperors several decades before that — did indeed become Kings of Bavaria after a little timely collaboration with Napoleon. Not only that, but in 1832 the Courts of Great Britain, France, and Russia, after duly weighing the choice of a fitting king for newly independent Greece, ‘being desirous of giving to that country a fresh proof of their friendly disposition by the election of a prince descended from a royal house, the friendship and alliance of which cannot fail to be of essential service to Greece …,’ decided upon Prince Frederick Otto of the old Bavarian ducal, later electoral, and by then royal family, to (as it turned out) introduce the stormy history of kingship into modern Greece. Document in Sophocles, S. M., A History of Greece (Thessalonike 1961) 343.Google Scholar

³⁵ ‘“daran gedenchent herre, / daz man ie uber unser lant / die aller thǔrste chunege vant…. Swer noch mit mir bestět, / deme teilich lǐb unde guot, / unde trage ime imer willigen muot”’ (572-574 and 584-586). Google Scholar

³⁶ There is a faint shadow of historicity behind the portrayal of Charlemagne as grandson of a Lombard king. Charlemagne in his brief marriage to the daughter of the Lombard King Desiderius acquired, of course, the whole Lombard royal family with all their venerable ancestors as in-laws; more suggestive may have been the fact that some thirteen years before the Carolingians finally became kings, Charles Martel arranged for the Lombard King Luitprand to ‘adopt’ Charlemagne's father, Pepin, thus making Pepin a king's son from the standpoint of prevailing political theory and also making the Lombard King the grandfather through adoption of the future Charlemagne (Wolfram, Intitulatio 153-154). Quite apart from the fact that the literary content of the story has an altogether different genealogy in saga and borrowed biography, it is obvious in the epic that Rother, ‘King by the Western Sea,’ is Holy Roman Emperor rather than merely Lombard King; he may have his seat in Bari, but when seventy-two crowned heads come to Rome to tender him service (lines 649-650), his imperial dignity is all but explicit. Probably ‘Rother’ was simply attached to the story as the name of a great Lombard king from generations past, familiar from his law code, the Edictus Rothari of 643 or 644. That the Lombards, having been conquered by the Franks, quite possibly compensated themselves consciously or unconsciously by making the greatest Frankish king a descendant of Lombard kings was suggested long before ‘psychological compensation’ became common parlance (Heinrich Rückert, ‘Einleitung’ to his edition of König Rother [Leipzig 1872] xxxiv-xxxvi).Google Scholar

³⁷ This is one of the lesser known Middle High German epics; of little literary significance, its assumptions concerning the medieval Empire are interesting for the historian of ideas. Nellmann makes full use of it in his Reichsidee, loc. cit. 11-34. Published texts are; Munich MS and Otte's Old French source, Gautier d'Arras, ed. Massmann, H. F. (Quedlinburg — Leipzig 1842) and Vienna MS, ed. Gräf, G. (Strassburg — London 1883), Quellen und Forschungen, Bd. 50.Google Scholar

³⁸ ‘si sprǎchen, si newisten neheinen man / der sǒ vorchtlich wǎre. / Si sprǎchen, daz er dem rǐche wole zǎme’ (2180-2182). Google Scholar

³⁹ ‘“Macht ich tǔsent houbit getragen, / ich lieze si elliu abe slahen, / ě ich mǐnen rucke kěre / wan nǎch des rǐches ěre”’ (6019-6022). Google Scholar

⁴⁰ ‘er sprach; “Dises ungebaere / gezimet nicht dem rǐche. / Du gebaerest ungezogen-lǐche”’ (6081-6083). Google Scholar

⁴¹ Jacob Grimm indicates without reservation that rǐch in this and similar phrasing means ‘emperor,’ so that Otte's words would connote simply ‘empress’ by virtue of relation to the emperor, i.e., as the emperor's wife ('Über das Pedantische in der deutschen Sprache,’ Kleinere Schriften (Berlin 1864) 1.336, n. 1). There is some ambiguity in the phrase, however, particularly since Middle High German frowe means ‘lady’ in the sense analogous to ‘lord’ more often than it does ‘wife.’ Nellmann insists that the passage in question is not to be taken to show personification of the Empire. In citing; “… die welt ir nemen ze wǐbe / und haben ze iuwerm lǐbe, / sie sol des rǐches frouwe sǐn”’ (op. cit. 19), Nellmann's point is that since the woman to be taken as the emperor's wife (wǐp) seems to be referred to in apposition as des rǐches frowe, the emperor's person is kept distinct from the Empire. Even allowing for manuscript diifferences, however, the context does not bear this out; Eraclius, who has the gift of being able to tell true women from false ones, in advising Focas how to arrange an inspection of likely candidates for empress, spells out for him; “‘ir sult daz offenbaere jehen, / ir wellet schouwen unde sehen / die juncfrowen alle. / swel iu under in gevalle, / die wellet ir ze wǐbe / und ze iwerm lǐbe. / sǐ sol des rǐches frouwe sǐn”’ (1645-1651, Massmann's ed.). There is really no apposition involved; the last line conveys the thought that what is to be announced shall be carried out, by having the woman who is to be chosen really become the Empress. With or without nemen and haben, the form wellet or welt (not necessarily subjunctive in itself but very probably so following jehen) keeps the announcement distinct from its realization with the indicative sol (not solte) sǐn. Nellmann cites other examples, too, to show that Otte elsewhere keeps the emperor and Empire distinct. These are challenged by Wolfram, Wolfram in his review of Die Reichsidee, MIÖG, 72 (1964) 180. The point need not be overstated; the king is not always seen embodying his kingdom in medieval German literature, but he can be, and the metaphorical forms this personification may take can be extreme. There is a somewhat more cautious Latin parallel of this usage: princeps, for political writers such as Dante, does not signify the whole kingdom or empire, but it does signify its government, whether personally or impersonally understood.Google Scholar

⁴² Anno, a dynamic political force in the Empire during the minority of Henry IV, whom he once virtually kidnapped, is also the closest thing to an epic hero in Lampert of Hersfeld's Annales. Anno's asceticism and (all' things considered) piety presented a sharp contrast from the clerical standpoint to the dissolute ways of the young king. The Annolied is the only surviving German source from which the Book of Emperors incorporated large quantities of material. Since the Annolied devotes more than 500 of its 878 lines to Biblical, world, and Roman history, it could be considered the ‘first vernacular German history,’ a distinction more often accorded the Book of Emperors with or without reservations. (Among others: Berthold Lasch, who dwells on the Book of Emperors' criticism of the Heldensage in Das Erwachen und die Entwicklung der historischen Kritik im Mittelalter [Breslau 1887] 22-23, and Homer Haskins, Charles, who sees it as one of the first works, together with those of the Anglo-Norman Court, which contributed to a movement that ‘ultimately involved the secularization and popularization of history’ in Europe [The Renaissance of the 12th Century (New York 1927 [1957]) 274-275].) The Annolied, in a manner similar to that later employed in the Book of Emperors, introduces itself as a work to be preferred to those who sing of ‘wi snelle helide vǎhten, / wi si veste burge brǎchen, / wi sich liebin winiscefte schieden, / wi rǐche kunige al zegiengen ’ (how bold heroes fought, how mighty fortresses were breached, how dear friends went separate ways, and how mighty kings fell 3-6). Whether an epic — in which a saint's life ‘takes over’ from world history is indeed a genuine ‘history’ is left for the reader to decide. All manuscripts of the Annolied have been lost; one survived long enough to be published by Martin Opitz (Danzig 1639), and all later editions necessarily go back to his. Portions are generally conceded to be imperfect in spite of attempts at reconstruction. Citations are based on Max Roediger's MGH recension, bound in the same volume with the Book of Emperors; it differs only in insignificant detail from the one published by Goldmann, G. A. F. (Leipzig-Altenburg 1816) before much textual criticism had been done. There is a detailed analysis of the work by Karl Fritschi, Das Annolied (Zürich 1957).Google Scholar

⁴³ ‘Rǒměre du sǐn infiengin, / einen nǔwin sidde aneviengin. / si begondin igǐzin den hěirrin; / das vundin simi cěrin, / wanter eini dou habite allin gewalt / der ě gideilit was in manigvalt’ (467-472). According to Roediger, igǐzin in itself signified ‘to say gǐ,’ an older second person plural, which would then have been modernized by the author of the Book of Emperors for the line; ‘si begunden irrizen den hěrren’ (520). It is at least equally likely that a form something like irrizen was already used in the Annolied and misread as irgezzan (‘to make up for,’ ‘to pay back’) by a later copyist. Google Scholar

⁴⁴ ‘den sidde hǐz er duo cěrin / diutischiu liuti lěrin’ (473-474). Google Scholar

⁴⁵ Frequent defeats or defeats which had a look of finality to them, on the other hand, were historically apt to bring on the death or deposition of the king. Since, again, the Book of Emperors deals in types at the expense of real biography, this sort of thing does not happen to true kings in it. Google Scholar

⁴⁶ 9.21. Google Scholar

⁴⁷ ‘“wol dǔ, herre sancte Pěter, / dǔ bist ain gotes trǔt vil hěr, / ain wahtaer der cristen-hait; / nu gedenke, hěrre, an mǐn arbait ! / dǔ bist ain ladaere des himelrǐches, / nǔ scowe an dǐnen bǎbes; / den liez ich dir gesunden, / plinden hǎn ich in vunden. / unt nemachest dǔ den plinden / hiute niht gesunden, / dǐn hǔs ich dir zestǒre, / dǐnen widemen ich dir ze-vuore; / ich lǎze dir in alsǒ blinden / unt vare hin wider zu den Riflanden”’ (14711-14724). Google Scholar

⁴⁸ ‘“nǔ mǐn vil lieben kint / diu wǐten gesament sint, / nu gehabet iuch frǒlǐche; / iu nǎhet daz gotes rǐche. got hǎt iuch erhǒret, sǐn antluzze gekěret / durch iwer hailiges gebet…. got hǎt iu eroffenet sǐniu tougen”’ (14733-14739, 14743). Google Scholar

⁴⁹ Policraticus 8.23. See Dickinson, Dickinson, 'The Medieval Conception of Kingship and Some of its Limitations as Developed in the Policraticus of John of Salisbury,’ Speculum 1 (1926) 308–337, esp. 326-331. Ambiguities in John's position are analyzed by Richard, and Rouse, Mary, ‘John of Salisbury and the Doctrine of Tyrannicide,’ Speculum 42 (1967) 699-709.Google Scholar

⁵⁰ Lines 853-1104. Google Scholar

⁵¹ ‘[Constantine] sprach ze sancte Silvester; / “lieber vater und maister, / daz liut suochet unsich; / nǔ ist vil pillǐch / daz ich dir von entwǐche. / ich bevilhe dir mǐn rǐche, / unz ich wider zuo dir chom. / maister, ich getrǔwe dir wol; / der getregede ist dir tiure; / nǔ habe dir ze stiure / alle mǐnes rǐches gewinne / durch des wǎren gotes minne, / und berouche mir wol mǐn liut”’ (10405-10417). Google Scholar

⁵² Folz, Folz giver a succinct presentation of the problems confronting both papal and imperial theorists in L'Idée d'Empire en occident du V ^e au XIV ^e siecle (Paris 1953) 97–100. See also the section, ‘Les Thèmes de la “Kaiserchronik,”’ in his Le souvenir et la légende de Charlemagne dans l'Empire germanique médiéval (Paris 1950) 160-169.Google Scholar

⁵³ This is, of course, implied by the tentative nature of Constantine's move from Rome according to the Book of Emperors, as noted above. In presenting his final Greek emperor, Constantine VI, in terms of unkingly traits, the author gives the episodes in his life an arrangement which is nearly an exact reverse-image of Charlemagne's manifestation of true kingly traits. Greek rulership of the Empire emerges then as a bad experiment which prefigures the resumption of good imperial governance. See Ohly, op. cit. 224-233. The Annolied also makes its contribution here in depicting the Germans as mainstays of the Empire since the time of Julius Caesar, to the point that any need for transferring imperial power to them at a later date is obviated. See Nellmann, op. cit. 64-65. Google Scholar

⁵⁴ ‘Daz rǐche stuont dǒ laere’ (14282).Google Scholar

⁵⁵ Lines 15358-15375. Google Scholar

⁵⁶ Lines 16454-16484. Google Scholar

⁵⁷ ‘Daz maere in Diutisc lant chom, / daz der kaiser waere verlorn. / die vürsten samenten sich ze Bunne; / Hainrǐchen den jungen / den lobeten si alle gemainlǐche; / si emphulen im daz rǐche, / daz er des gerihtes pflǎge, / nu der vater verlorn wǎre’ (16804-16811). Google Scholar

⁵⁸ ‘Künc Constantǐn der gap sǒ vil … dem stuole ze Rǒme: sper kriuz' unde krǒne / zehant der engel lǔte schrě: / “owě, owě, zem dritten wě ! / ě stuont diu kristenheit mit zühten schǒne. / der ist nǔ ein vergift gefallen, / ir honec ist worden z'einer gallen; / daz wirt der werlt her nǎch vil leit”’ (Walther von der Vogelweide, ed. Pfeiffer, Franz [Leipzig 1866] 188).Google Scholar

⁵⁹ See note 5, above. To Gregory, depressed beyond all measure by Trajan's suffering in hell but aware that the unbaptized are divinely doomed forever, the angel — speaking in rather folksy fashion (‘“ich sage dir, Gregǒrt, waz dǔ tuo; …”’) — offers a solution. Trajan's soul will be entrusted to Gregory if Gregory will take seven severe maladies upon himself for the rest of his days, which, of course, he does (6050-6082). Google Scholar