Saint Innocent and the Massacre of the Innocents

18 Saturday Jul 2015

Posted by thereliquarian in Glass Reliquary

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catacombs, Magi, martyr, relic, reliquary, Saint Innocent, Saint Matthew, United States, Washington

Peter Paul Rubens, Massacre of the Innocents (detail), oil on panel (c. 1638), Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany

The Holy Innocents

The Massacre of the Innocents is sometimes invoked as an example of man’s potential for savagery and brutality in war. In Henry V, for example, King Henry conjures the specter of Herod while addressing the governor and citizens of Harfleur, warning:

Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; . . .
If not, why, in a moment look to see . . .
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod’s bloody-hunting slaughtermen.[1]

It should be remembered, however, that the Massacre of the Innocents was a calculated act, a politically motivated event, rather than a mere accident of war. Its victims were helpless children, all under the age of two years. According to the Golden Legend, the Holy Innocents, as they came to be called, were considered holy and innocent “by reason of their life, of the death they suffered, and of the innocence they attained.”[2]

Though mentioned only briefly in the Bible, the Holy Innocents were eventually bestowed their own feast day sometime during the late 4th to late 5th centuries.[3] Also known as Innocents’ Day or Childermas, the Feast of the Holy Innocents was once a day of role reversals, akin to the ancient Roman festival of Saturnalia, which placed children in authority over adults. Today, the Feast of the Holy Innocents, celebrated on 28 December, is a day of pranking and general tomfoolery similar to April Fools’ Day in some parts of the world. In the town of Ibi, Spain, for example, the festival of Els Enfarinats famously features a coup d’etat and a fierce battle of eggs and flour bombs that is waged throughout the town.

Who were the Holy Innocents, though, and why were they massacred in the first place?

Killing of the Innocents, stained glass, Strasbourg Cathedral, Strasbourg, France

The Slaughter of the Innocents

The only Gospel writer who mentions the Massacre of the Innocents is Saint Matthew, who explains that Herod ordered the massacre after mysterious Magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem inquiring about a newborn king. “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?” the Magi asked, somewhat indiscreetly. “We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”[4]

According to the Golden Legend, “Herod was troubled when he heard of this, fearing that someone might have been born of the true royal line and might expel him as a usurper of the throne.”[5] Nevertheless, perceiving an opportunity to discover the whereabouts of his potential challenger, Herod feigned interest in worshipping the new king and slyly asked the Magi to bring him news once they had found him. “Go and search carefully for the child,” he told them. “As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”[6] Herod had no intention of worshipping the child, however. Rather, he intended to kill the newborn king, quite literally in his infancy.

Sandro Botticelli, Adoration of the Magi (detail), tempera and oil on panel (c. 1478-1482), National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC

Warned in a dream not to return to Herod, the Magi returned home by another route. According to the Golden Legend, when the Magi did not report back to him, Herod initially thought they had been deceived by the star and were too ashamed to face him with the news. Herod subsequently gave up the search for the child. Eventually, however, “when he heard what the shepherds had reported and what Simeon and Anna had prophesied, all his fears returned.”[7]

According to Saint Matthew, “When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled: ‘A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.’”[8]

Courage and Callousness

In his study From Criminal to Courtier: The Soldier in Netherlandish Art, 1550-1672, David Kunzle explains that the Massacre of the Innocents became an increasingly popular subject in art in the 13th and 14th centuries.[9] Over time, two “non-biblical, legendary embellishments” crept into depictions of the event, altering the way the massacre was perceived. The first, which lent “both realism and political edge” to such scenes, was the portrayal of mothers fiercely resisting the slaughter of their children.[10] The second was the inclusion of Herod himself, callous and dispassionate amidst the carnage.

Works by artists such as Cornelius van Haarlem and Peter Paul Rubens attempt to portray some of the confusion, anguish, and brutality that surrounded the massacre. In these depictions, the mothers of the Holy Innocents desperately interpose themselves between Herod’s soldiers and the helpless children of Bethlehem. They claw at the soldiers, tearing their faces and gouging their eyes. They frantically shield their children, but to no avail. Pale, lifeless corpses already litter the landscape.

Peter Paul Rubens, Massacre of the Innocents (detail), oil on panel (c. 1638), Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany

Kunzle notes that though not mentioned in the Bible, the resistance of the mothers “is surely as natural as the grief.”[11] He further comments that their resistance may have been an “indictment of those unnatural mothers who instead of trying to protect their children like the mothers of Bethlehem . . . abandoned, killed or aborted them, crimes increasingly common and increasingly severely punished in the 16th century, after being more or less winked at in earlier centuries.”[12]

In contrast, Herod is commonly portrayed as a cold, detached observer of the events. Often, he is shown seated on a high throne,“ordaining the massacre.”[13] The position, Kunzle argues, emphasizes Herod’s pride and arrogance.[14] In Matteo di Giovanni di Bartolo’s The Massacre of the Innocents, for example, Herod is portrayed as a large figure with a crown, peering down from a throne from which he calmly directs the violence below.[15] Sometimes, Herod is also depicted with counsellors, whose presence, Kunzle suggests, “gives the order to massacre the colour of a deliberate act of state rather than a furious personal impulse.”[16] Herod has also been known to be accompanied by a pig.

Reliquary Shrine with Scenes from the Life of Christ (detail), champlevé enamel on copper (c. 13th century), Walters Art Museum, Baltimore, Maryland. At right, Herod sits enthroned, his arm raised, while the devil whispers in his ear.

Herod’s Pig

“Those who kill, get killed,” Kunzle tells us.[17] “Killers of sons get killed by sons.”[18] Unsurprisingly, then, Herod’s barbarous order did not go unpunished. We learn from the Golden Legend that one of Herod’s infant sons had been “given to a woman in Bethlehem for nursing” and consequently was slain with the Holy Innocents during the massacre.[19] On hearing this, the emperor August allegedly remarked, “I had rather be one of Herod’s pigs than sons.”[20] Apparently, this comment inspired one 15th-century artist to insert a pig into a version of the Massacre of the Innocents.[21] I am not aware of other such pigs loitering about similar depictions of the event, however.

The First Christian Martyrs

The Holy Innocents are considered the first Christian martyrs, and as martyrs, they are sometimes shown holding palm branches, a common symbol of martyrdom.[22] It is unclear, though, how many children may actually have been killed in the massacre. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, “The Greek Liturgy asserts that Herod killed 14,000, the Syrians speak of 64,000, [and] many medieval authors of 144,000,” a number apparently derived from the Book of Revelation.[23] However, considering the parameters of Herod’s order—to kill “all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under”—the number of dead would likely have been far more modest than any of these estimates. In her book Saints in Art, Rosa Giorgi suggests the number killed may have been around twenty.[24]. Giorgi notes that “images of this episode have traditionally been more focused on the atrocious violence and mothers’ anguish than the number of casualties.”[25]

Mount Saint Sepulchre Franciscan Monastery (Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in America), Washington, DC, USA

The Relics of Saint Innocent

The Catholic Encyclopedia identifies a number of churches that purportedly possess relics of Holy Innocents. These churches include the Abbey of Saint Justina (Abbazia di Santa Giustina) in Padua, Italy; Saint Mary Major (Santa Maria Maggiore) in Rome, Italy; Lisbon Cathedral (Sé de Lisboa) in Lisbon, Portugal; and Milan Cathedral (Duomo di Milano) in Milan, Italy. The Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls (Basilica Papale San Paolo fuori le Mura) in Rome also claims to possess relics of the Holy Innocents, and an apsidal mosaic in the church depicts five of the Holy Innocents as young boys, dressed in white, bearing palm branches. A curious monastery in Washington, DC, also lays claim to a link to the Holy Innocents, though not through relics like those of the churches described above.

Descending into the fake catacombs of the Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in America, in the Brooklands neighborhood of Washington, DC, is slightly unsettling. After shuffling down a set of stairs and under an arch labeled “Nazareth,” one first encounters a gleaming, marble replica of the shrine of the Annunciation in Nazareth before continuing into the “catacombs.” The experience is perplexing, like drinking a German beer in the Germany Pavilion at Disney’s Epcot Center. Still, there is a certain allure to place. It is air-conditioned and dust-free, and not particular creepy—until one happens on the body of a small boy, encased in glass, resting serenely on red silk cushions.

Relics of Saint Innocent, Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in America, Washington, DC

The boy is crowned with a golden wreath, above which hovers a golden halo. His head is tilted slightly to the right and a gentle smile plays across his pale, waxen face. He wears a white silken tunic, which is bejeweled around the neck, and a red ribbon hangs loosely about his waist. His hands and feet are covered in golden gauze, and his left hand, crumpled loosely into a fist, rests atop his body cradling a palm branch.

Saint Innocent’s hands are visible through the gauze covering his hands. The palm frond tucked beneath his left hand is a symbol of martyrdom.

The boy is Saint Innocent (Saint Innocentius), a boy no older than eight years, who was apparently killed during the Roman persecutions of the 2nd century. Near his body, a sign explains that he was “buried in the Catacombs of St. Callistus for several centuries” before his relics were removed to a chapel in Hinsdale, Illinois, and then subsequently transferred to Washington, DC. The sign further states that a phial of the boy’s blood, an indicator of martyrdom, was also found with the body along with an inscription that read “Innocentius in pace,” or “Innocent resting in peace.” The phial found in the catacombs is now stored in the glass reliquary case with the saint’s body. Lastly, the informational sign explains that “[w]hile the skull [of Saint Innocent] has been covered with a beautiful wig, the hands and feet are covered only with gold gauze, thus permitting the bones to be seen easily.”

Saint Innocent is not a Holy Innocent, but he serves as a representative of all those who, as the Golden Legend states, were “innocent in their lives and upright in faith.”[26] Recognizing this symbolic connection, another sign above Saint Innocent’s reliquary reminds visitors that December 28th is the Feast of the Holy Innocents, a day of remembrance of Christianity’s young, first martyrs.

Interior of the Mount Saint Sepulchre Franciscan Monastery (Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in America), Washington, DC, USA

[1] William Shakespeare, Henry V, III, iii, 27-41.

[2] Jacobus de Voragine, 1 The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints 56 (William Granger Ryan trans., 1993).

[3] The feast is first mentioned in the Leonine Sacramentary of about 485.

[4] Matthew 2:2.

[5] Golden Legend, supra note 2, at 57.

[6] Matthew 2:8.

[7] Golden Legend, supra note 2, at 57.

[8] Matthew 2:16-18.

[9] David Kunzle, From Criminal to Courier: The Soldier in Netherlandish Art 1550-1672 (2002), at 35.

[10] Id.

[11] Kunzle, supra note 9, at 46.

[12] Id.

[13] Id. at 38.

[14] Id. at 42.

[15] Painted circa 1480-1490, the work is located at the Museo di Capodimonte, Naples, Italy.

[16] Kunzle, supra note 9, at 42.

[17] Id. at 39.

[18] Id.

[19] Golden Legend, supra note 2, at 58.

[20] Kunzle, supra note 9, at 40 (quoting Macrobius). However, this quip may relate to a different event altogether. The Golden Legend states Augustus made these remarks after learning that Herod had deliberately ordered the death of two of his sons. In response, the Golden Legend quotes Augustus as saying, “I would rather be Herod’s swine than his son, because he spares his swine but kills his sons.” Golden Legend, supra note 2, at 58.

[21] Kunzle, supra note 9, at 40-41.

[22] See, e.g., Albrecht Classen, Childhood in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance: The Results of a Paradigm Shift in the History of Mentality 123 (2005) (“The Holy Innocents became the first Christian martyrs because of their chronological and geographical proximity to Christ and because they died in his stead.”); Rosa Giorgi, Saints in Art 167 (Stefano Zuffi ed. & Thomas Michael Hartmann trans., 2002). In Ruben’s Massacre of the Innocents at the Alte Pinakothek in Munich, Germany, angels from heaven tumble to earth bearings crowns of martyrdom instead.

[23] 7 Catholic Encyclopedia 420 (Charles G. Herbermann et al., eds 1910). The verse from Revelation cited in the text above reads, “And they sung as it were a new song before the throne, and before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth.” Revelation 14:3.

[24] Giorgi, supra note 23, at 167.

[25] Id.

[26] Golden Legend, supra note 2, at 56.

Saint of the Salt Castle: Discovering Saint Rupert in Salzburg, Austria

02 Monday Mar 2015

Posted by thereliquarian in Glass Reliquary

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Austria, Blessed Konrad II, Germany, reliquary, Saint Rupert, Saint Virgil, Salzburg, Salzburg Cathedral, skeleton

Statue of Saint Rupert (detail), Collegiate Church of Saint Peter and Saint John the Baptist (Stiftskirche St. Peter und Johannes der Taüfer), Berchtesgaden, Germany

Salt of the Earth

In his wide-ranging history of salt, Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky retells the story of a French princess who infuriated her father by declaring she loved him like salt. “Only later,” Kurlansky writes, when the king “is denied salt does he realize its value and therefore the depth of his daughter’s love.”[1] Because salt is “so common, so easy to obtain, and so inexpensive,” Kurlansky explains, “we have forgotten that from the beginning of civilization until about 100 years ago, salt was one of the most sought-after commodities in human history.”[2] Salt was so precious, Roman soldiers were once paid an amount of money for the purchase of salt, known as a salarium — that is, a “salary.”[3] Salt was also fundamental to the growth of several European cities, including the great city of Salzburg, Austria. The name “Salzburg,” in fact, derives from the German word for salt (Salz) and the word for castle (Burg).

View of Hohensalzburg Castle from Mirabell Palace and Gardens, Salzburg, Austria

The rise and development of Salzburg, however, was far from inevitable. By the 7th century, the city, then known as Juvavum, was in ruin following the collapse of the Roman Empire and the catastrophic breakdown of public infrastructure throughout the region.[4] The work of an enterprising saint, and a little bit of salt, however, helped revive Salzburg’s fortunes. The saint was Saint Rupert, first Bishop of Salzburg, whose likeness appears throughout the city and region to this day. He is commonly portrayed carrying a vessel of salt, his traditional emblem in art — and an apt attribute for the patron saint of the Salt Castle.

Statue of Saint Rupert, Salzburg Cathedral, Salzburg, Austria

Man of Salt

Who was Saint Rupert, and why is he so closely associated with Salzburg? According to Butler’s Lives of the Saints, Saint Rupert was either a Frank or an Irishman who had once been Bishop of Worms.[5] In approximately 697, Saint Rupert and several companions traveled to Regensburg to visit Duke Theodo of Bavaria, a powerful ruler “without whose permission nothing much could be done.”[6] Saint Rupert eventually converted and baptized the duke, who afterwards became Saint Rupert’s patron. With the duke’s support, Saint Rupert reestablished Christianity along the Danube, in an area stretching from Regensburg to Lorch.[7]

Instead of settling in either of these places, however, Saint Rupert chose to establish himself in the “old ruined town of Juvavum.”[8] Juvavum contained a number of Roman-era buildings, though most were “dilapidated” and “overgrown with briars and brushwood.”[9]. The ancient town’s main advantage was its location in a prospering commercial area, in a region rich in salt.

Statue of Saint Rupert, Cemetery of Saint Sebastian, Salzburg, Austria

Saint Rupert petitioned Duke Theodo for the territory of Juvavum, and the duke readily agreed. Soon after, Saint Rupert erected the town’s first church, the Church of Saint Peter (Stiftskirche Sankt Peter), at the base of the Mönchberg.[10] He also established the town’s first monastery and its first convent, Nonnberg Abbey, whose first abbess, Saint Erentrude, was Saint Rupert’s niece.

Part of Duke Theodo’s original donation included rich salt deposits, which were mined for their precious crystals.[11] Saint Rupert is credited with establishing these first salt mines, which would become a source of the city’s great wealth and grandeur in later centuries.[12] As the city prospered, wealth from salt mining enabled the arts to flourish. Today, however, the influence of salt on the city’s growth and prosperity has been all but forgotten. Instead, Salzburg is celebrated as an elegant city of music, the birthplace of Mozart and, more recently, the backdrop of the perennially popular movie The Sound of Music.

View of Salzburg from Festung Hohensalzburg. Salzburg Cathedral, with green dome, is visible in the foreground, to the right.

View of Salzburg from Festung Hohensalzburg. Salzburg Cathedral, with its distinctive green dome, is visible near the center of the photograph.

Skeletons at the von Trapp Wedding

Located 17 miles east of Salzburg, in the charming lakeside town of Mondsee, Austria, the parish church of Saint Michael (Pfarrkirche St Michael), is the second largest church in Upper Austria. Built in the late 15th century, the twin towers and pale yellow of the church’s exterior may strike some as vaguely familiar. As it turns out, the church served as the setting of Fraulein Maria’s wedding to Captain von Trapp in The Sound of Music.

Parish Church of Saint Michael, Mondsee, Austria

The interior of the church features striking vaulted ceilings, a riot of carved and painted figures, and various gilded Baroque altars, including five by the famed Swiss sculptor Meinrad Guggenbichler.[13] The church also houses a number of relics, some of which make brief cameos in the wedding scene of The Sound of Music. The relics of Blessed Konrad II are the most notable. Located directly above the tabernacle behind the high altar, the seated skeleton of Blessed Konrad II, a 12th century abbott of Mondsee, peers out from behind a glass enclosed niche. The skeleton’s head is surrounded by a ray halo, and his left hand clutches a staff and palm frond, indicating a martyr’s death. Apparently, Blessed Konrad II was killed defending his monastery, and his fellow monks believed his murder qualified him for martyrdom.[14]

Seven-Part Reliquary with the Relics of Blessed Konrad II of Mondsee, Parish Church of Saint Michael, Mondsee, Austria

An array of other relics, carefully arranged in two large reliquary cases, are displayed to Blessed Konrad II’s right and left. The relics include various skulls and bones first collected and displayed in the church in the mid-18th century. Below the reliquary cases, four additional skeletons may be seen reclining in individual cases, two triangular and two rectangular. The skeletons look relaxed in their padded niches and observe the world as if from window of a passing train. The skeletons belong to catacomb saints exhumed and transported to Mondsee from the catacombs of Rome. The altar itself is a remarkable early Baroque work by the sculptor Hans Waldburger. Dating to 1626, the altar features a depiction of Saint Michael the Archangel placidly slaying a dragon. The altar is the only extant altar by Waldburger.[15]

Parish Church of Saint Michael, Mondsee, Austria. The high altar, which dates to 1626, is the work of Hans Waldburger.

Salzburg Cathedral

Saint Rupert died in 710, and is buried in the crypt of Salzburg Cathedral. Consecrated to Saint Rupert and Saint Virgil in 774, the cathedral has been rebuilt and modified several times since its founding. In 1167, for example, the Counts of Plain, knights loyal to the the emperor Barbarossa, set fire to the cathedral, burning it virtually to its foundation.[16]

Salzburg Cathedral (Salzburger Dom), Salzburg, Austria

The cathedral was rebuilt, but burned again in 1598. The subsequent rebuilding effort, led by Salzburg’s archbishop at the time, Wolf Dietrich von Raitenau, outraged city residents who were shocked by Wolf Dietrich’s ruthless destruction of the cathedral’s cemetery, including the desecration of countless graves, for the rebuilding project.[17] After Wolf Dietrich was captured and imprisoned by Bavarian troops in a dispute over salt mining rights, Wolf Dietrich’s successor, Markus Sittikus von Hohenems, commissioned a new architect to complete the cathedral’s reconstruction.

Interior of Salzburg Cathedral (Salzburger Dom), Salzburg, Austria

Reconsecrated in 1628, the new, Baroque cathedral remained virtually unchanged until 1944, when a bomb crashed through the dome, destroying part of the chancel. After extensive renovations, the cathedral was consecrated a third time, in 1959. The three gates to the cathedral commemorate the three consecrations by displaying the years “774,” “1628,” and “1959” in gold above the portals.[18]

Back to the Salt Mines

Although Saint Rupert does not hover above the tabernacle of Salzburg Cathedral like Blessed Konrad II in Mondsee, images of Saint Rupert throughout the church and city serve as a reminder of his role in the city’s early history. As already noted, Saint Rupert is frequently shown carrying a vessel of salt, an acknowledgment of his influence on Salzburg’s salt trade. The container of salt, however, may hint at another of Saint Rupert’s accomplishments. In addition to establishing the city’s first salt mines, Saint Rupert was responsible for changing the city’s original name, Juvavum, to something more relevant and more enduring. The name he chose, of course, was “Salzburg,” the Salt Castle.

High Altar, Salzburg Cathedral (Salzburger Dom) Salzburg, Austria. Saint Rupert is depicted atop the altar carrying a barrel of salt in his left hand and a bishop’s crozier in his right. Saint Virgil is also represented atop the altar, opposite Saint Rupert.

Statue of Saint Rupert, Saint Andreas Parish Church, Berchtesgaden, Austria

Statue of Saint Rupert, Parish Church of Saint Andreas, Berchtesgaden, Germany

Interior of Dome, Salzburg Cathedral (Salzburger Dom), Salzburg, Austria. The dome was pierced by an aerial bomb in WWII. Repairs to the cathedral were not completed until 1959.

[1] Mark Kurlansky, Salt: A World History 6 (2002).

[2] Id.

[3] 2 Shorter Oxford English Dictionary 2653 (5th ed., 2002).

[4] Juvavum was one of the principle towns of the Roman frontier province of Noricum.

[5] 1 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 700 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956).

[6] Id.

[7] Id.

[8] Id.

[9] 13 Catholic Encyclopedia 229 (Charles G. Herbermann et al., eds 1912).

[10] Id. The church was established where Saint Maximus, a follower of Saint Severin, was martyred in 476.

[11] Id.

[12] Saleem H. Ali, Treasure of the Earth: Need, Greed, and a Sustainable Future 34 (2009).

[13] John Bourke, Baroque Churches of Central Europe 266 (1958).

[14] Blessed Konrad II of Mondsee, Saints.SPQN.com, available at http://saints.sqpn.com/blessed-konrad-ii-of-mondsee/.

[15] 10 Dictionary of German Biography 314 (Walther Killy et al., eds, 2006).

[16] Salzburg Cathedral, Salzburg Travel Guide, http://www.salzburg.info/en.

[17] Id.

[18] Id.

Relic of the Holy Diaper: The Swaddling Clothes of Jesus

18 Thursday Dec 2014

Posted by thereliquarian in Textile

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Aachen, Croatia, Dubrovnik, Germany, Magi, Marienschrein, relic, reliquary, Saint Joseph, Saint Mary, swaddling clothes

Giorgione, The Adoration of the Shepherds, oil on panel (1477), National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC

The Swaddling Clothes

One of the more remarkable relics on display in the Reliquary Treasury of Dubrovnik Cathedral is the “diaper” of Jesus. The relic is displayed in a bulky silver reliquary, profusely ornamented with winged figures, clunky arabesques, and other decorative accents.[1] While most translations into English describe the relic as a “diaper” or “diapers,” it could more accurately be described as the “swaddling cloth” or “swaddling clothes” of Jesus.[2]

Veneration of Jesus’ swaddling clothes is more frequently associated with Aachen, Germany, where a more famous set of swaddling garments has been kept since the 13th century. Housed in the golden Shrine of Saint Mary (Marienshrein) at Aachen Cathedral, the swaddling clothes (Windel Jesu) were rarely put on public display prior to the 14th century.[3] Since then, the relic has been exhibited in Aachen approximately every seven years.[4] In comparison, the swaddling clothes kept at Dubrovnik Cathedral are regularly displayed in the cathedral’s astonishing treasury of saintly relics.

Marienschrein (Shrine of Saint Mary), gold (1230-1239), Aachen Cathedral, Aachen, Germany

Christmas Stockings

In a paper on Jesus’ swaddling clothes, Sophie Oosterwijk explains that since antiquity, “medical tradition held that the newborn child might develop deformed limbs if left unswaddled; therefore, swaddling clothes were considered absolutely essential not just for ordinary infants but also for the Christ child.”[5] Consequently, until about the 14th century, depictions of the Nativity commonly showed the infant Jesus tightly swaddled, his face serene in a cloth cocoon.[6]

Some paintings of this period, however, show the infant Jesus unswaddled, presumably mere moments after his birth. According to one tradition, Jesus’ struggling parents were forced to reuse Joseph’s hose, the only extra cloth they had at hand, as makeshift swaddling clothes.[7] Paintings inspired by this story frequently portray Joseph removing his shoes and stockings or ripping his hose into strips as Mary waits nearby. “Mary, take my hose and wind your dear baby in them,” Joseph tells Mary in an early 15th century Nativity painting from a church in Lezignan.[8] In another, Joseph seated on the ground with one bare foot extended, carefully cuts his hose into strips with a knife while a recumbent Mary watches from a mattress.[9] Rogier van der Weyden’s famous Columba Altarpiece has also been tied to this tradition, though Joseph’s stockings are portrayed more subtly: two squares of cloth laid in Jesus’ manger have been interpreted as Joseph’s repurposed hose.[10]

Joseph Malouel?, Nativity, oil on tempera (c. 1400), Museum Mayer van den Bergh, Antwerp, Belgium (courtesy Wikimedia Commons). Here, Joseph can be seen cutting one of his stockings with a knife as Mary watches and the infant Jesus waits in a manger.

As Oosterwijk observes, the tradition of Joseph and his hose “illustrates the medieval need to explain the details of the Virgin’s reported confinement far away from the comfort of a regular nursery . . . , thus emphasizing Christ’s humility. Instead, it is Joseph in his role of the family provider, rather than that of a natural father, who finds the solution for the lack of swaddling clothes by donating his own hose to cover the newborn Christ with in the cold winter night.”[11]

Adoration of the Magi (panel detail), Columba Altarpiece, oil on oak (c. 1455), Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany. The two squares of cloth padding the manger at left have been interpreted as Joseph’s hose.

God and Man

A curious book titled Excrement in the Late Middle Ages further explores the history and deeper theological meaning of Jesus’ swaddling clothes. As the author, Susan Signe Morrison, notes, while stories about the baby Jesus’s swaddling clothes may seem “obscene or blasphemous,” they were, in fact, “produced within the confines of the sacred.”[12] Miracles associated with Jesus’ swaddling clothes were described in the First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ — a work condemned as heretical in the fifth century — and in stories describing the return of the Wise Men to their home countries.

Returning to the Christmas story as told in Luke 2:12, Morrison explains that Jesus’s swaddling clothes were provided “not just to keep him warm or to bind him in an imitation of the closeness of the womb.”[13] Rather, “[t]he clothes clearly perform a key function: to collect the filth the human baby ejects.”[14] Morrison further explains that the “enfleshing of Christ is both most sacred (he became man to save us) and most profane (he took on the flesh that emits filth for us).” Morrison concludes, “To be human is to eat; to be fully human, God must digest just as a human does. As Tertullian argued, by taking on the filthy human body, Christ signals his profound humility and compassion. God has divested himself of his omnipotence; what more overt way to do this than to become a helpless, wriggling, filthy infant, utterly dependent upon others for nourishment, shelter, and personal hygiene?”[15]

Bernardino Luini, The Madonna of the Carnation, oil on panel (c. 1515), National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC

[1] See, e.g., Ante Dračevac, La Cathedrale de Dubrovnik 50 (Françoise Kveder trans., 1988). Dating to the 16th century, the reliquary is the work of local Dubrovnik metalsmiths. Id.

[2] For example, an older guide to the cathedral, translated into French and no longer in print, describes the relic as “des langes de Jésus.” Id.

[3] Joan Carroll Cruz, Relics 23 (1984).

[4] Id.

[5] Sophie Oosterwijk, The Swaddling-Clothes of Christ: A Medieval Relic on Display, 13 Medieval Life 25-30 (2000).

[6] See id. at 25.

[7] Incidentally, Saint Joseph’s hose is also purportedly stored in the Marienshrein, along with Jesus’ swaddling clothes, the robe of Saint Mary, and the beheading cloth of Saint John the Baptist. Photographs of all four relics, which comprise the four great relics of the Marienschrein, can be found here.

[8] Gail McMurray Gibson, “St. Margery: The Book of Margery Kempe,” in Equally in God’s Image: Women in the Middle Ages 152 (Julia Bolton Holloway et al., eds., 1990).

[9] The painting is the Nativity panel of a polyptych by an unknown artist, possibly Jean Malouel, painted c. 1400.

[10] See, e.g., Oosterwijk, supra note 5, at 28.

[11] Id.

[12] Susan Signe Morrison, Excrement in the Late Middle Ages: Sacred Filth and Chaucer’s Fecopoetics 92 (2009).

[13] Id. at 93.

[14] Id.

[15] Id. (internal citations omitted).

Saint Anthony of Padua: Patron Saint of Lost Things

02 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by thereliquarian in Glass Reliquary

≈ 6 Comments

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Germany, incorrupt, Italy, Maryland, Michael Wolgemut, Padua, relic, reliquary, Rottweil, Saint Anthony, Saint Bartholomew, Saint Francis, Saint Nicolaus, Veit Stoss

Reliquary of Saint Anthony, the Shrine of Saint Anthony, Ellicott City, Maryland, USA

Discovering Saint Anthony

We stopped in Rottweil, Germany, on a whim, drawn by its distinctive name and apparent connection to the Rottweiler, a famous breed of dog. We spent the morning in leisurely exploration before we eventually found our way to the Church of the Holy Cross (Heilig Kreuz Münster) near the commercial center of Rottweil. Built in 1230-1534, the church features a triple nave, intricate network vaults, and very fine examples of late Gothic wood carving, including an altar of Saint Bartholomew by Michael Wolgemut and a crucifix attributed to Veit Stoss. In the south transept of the church, an altar steeped in late morning light drew our attention. Stoical saints bearing burnished objects — a golden chalice here, a large knife there — beckoned us to peer closer, to gaze, to contemplate.

Altar with Saints, Church of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany

Meanwhile, several yards away, tucked in a dim corner by an exit, stood a modest sculpture: the humble figure of a friar in Franciscan robes. We initially overlooked the statue amidst the many carvings and altars of the church, but once we noticed it, something about the image’s unassuming bearing invited us to linger.

“What did you lose?” An older gentleman suddenly asked as he edged by us and dropped a few coins in a collection box near the statue.

“Nothing,” we answered hesitatingly. “Why do you ask?”

“You were staring at Saint Anthony, so I thought you must have lost something.” he replied. “I lost my glasses this morning, and I looked everywhere for them, but I couldn’t find them. So I prayed to Saint Anthony, and I found them!” At this, he raised a pair of spectacles as if in a triumphant toast. “I came here to thank the saint with an offering. If you’ve lost something, you should pray to Saint Anthony!”

Altar of Saint Bartolomen, Michael Wolgemut, Church of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany

Altar of Saint Nicolaus, Church of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany

Patron Saint of Lost Things

It is unclear how Saint Anthony became a patron saint of lost items or lost things. The Lives of the Saints suggests his patronage may be traced to a miracle recounted in the Chronica XXIV Generalium (No. 21).[1] The Lives of the Saints sums up the story as follows: “A novice ran away and carried off a valuable psalter St Antony was using. He prayed for its recovery and the novice was compelled by an alarming apparition to come back and return it.”[2]

As the gentleman we encountered in Rottweil demonstrated, the saint’s reputation as a finder of lost or stolen things has only grown since the incident of the lost psalter. Writing in Saint Anthony of Padua: His Life, Legends, and Devotions, Norman Perry explains, “Nearly everywhere, Anthony is asked to intercede with God for the return of things lost or stolen.”[3] Perry notes that “[t]hose who feel very familiar with him might pray, ‘Tony, Tony, turn around. Something’s lost and must be found.’”[4] A number of other prayers for the recovery of lost objects are also popular — for those on less familiar terms with the saint.

Church of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany. A carved crucifix attributed to Veit Stoss is visible at the center of the photograph, behind the main altar.

The Sermon to the Fishes

During his lifetime, Saint Anthony was famous for his preaching. As The Lives of the Saints explains, he had all the requisite qualifications of a great preacher: “learning, eloquence, great power of persuasion, a burning zeal for souls and a sonorous voice which carried far.”[5] His talent for preaching, however, was discovered by accident. According to legend, he was called to deliver a sermon at the last minute during a ceremony attended by a number of Dominican and Franciscan friars. “Through some misunderstanding none of the Dominicans had come prepared to deliver the customary address at the ceremony, and as no one among the Franciscans seemed capable of filling the breach St Antony, who was present, was told to come forward and speak whatever the Holy Ghost should put into his mouth.”[6] Saint Anthony dazzled the crowd with his knowledge and eloquence, and he was subsequently assigned to preach throughout Lombardy and northern Italy.

As talented an orator as he was, however, Saint Anthony did not always immediately succeed in his mission. In the ancient city of Rimini on the Adriatic, for example, Saint Anthony struggled to convert the city’s recalcitrant, unsympathetic population. “He preached unto them for many days and disputed with them of the faith of Christ and of the Holy Scriptures; but they as men hard of heart and obstinate, would not even listen to him.”[7] Undeterred, Saint Anthony chose to deliver a sermon nearby, to a different, though somewhat untraditional, audience. Standing on the bank of a river near the sea, Saint Anthony began to “speak unto the fishes, as a preacher sent unto them of God.”[8]

Miraculous Draught of Fishes (detail), Jacopo Bassano, oil on canvas (1545), National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC. Although this painting does not depict Saint Anthony’s Sermon to the Fishes, I imagine the fish peeking their heads out of the water as in this painting of the miraculous catch of fish.

“Hear the word of God, ye fishes of the sea and of the river, since the infidel heretics refuse to hear it,” he declared. Soon thereafter, “there came to him to the bank so vast a multitude of fishes, big, little and of middling size, that never in that sea or in that river had there been so great a multitude.”[9] All of them “held their heads out of the water” and all “gazed attentively on the face of St. Antony, abiding there in very great peace and gentleness and order.”[10] As Saint Anthony spoke, the fish opened their mouthes, bowed their heads, and made other signs of reverence. As Saint Anthony continued to preach, even more fish began to arrive.[11]

This unusual sermon did not go unnoticed. “To see this miracle the people of the city began to run thither, and among them came also the heretics aforesaid; who, beholding so marvelous and clear a miracle, were pricked in the hearts, and all cast themselves at the feet of St. Antony to hear his words.”[12] While Saint Francis is often remembered for preaching to the birds, Saint Anthony is frequently remembered for this miracle, his incredible Sermon to the Fishes. Perhaps he had a burning zeal for sole as well as souls!

The Shrine of Saint Anthony

The Shrine of Saint Anthony rests atop a modest hill, surrounded by bucolic farms and woodland, in rural Howard County, Maryland, USA. Modeled after the Sacro Convento in Assisi, Italy, the shrine at first seems out of place in the American countryside. Something about the shrine’s monasterial silhouette, however, can feel familiar in the heat of a midsummer afternoon, against an azure sky.

Courtyard of the Shrine of Saint Anthony, Ellicott City, Maryland, USA

Construction of the Shrine of Saint Anthony began in 1930 and was completed a year later, in 1931. Built on land once owned by Charles Carroll, the only Catholic signer of the American Declaration of Independence, the shrine features over 200 acres of grounds and walking trails. The shrine also houses a first class relic of Saint Anthony: a small piece of skin donated to the shrine by the Basilica of Saint Anthony of Padua in 1995.[13]

Chapel of the Relic of Saint Anthony

The chapel containing the relic of Saint Anthony is located at the rear of the shrine, near a side parking lot. The relic itself is stored in a small reliquary that has, in turn, been incorporated into a golden statue of Saint Anthony. The statue depicts the saint from the waist up against a background of leaping flames. His right hand is raised in blessing, and his left hand grasps a book, a common attribute of the saint, which he holds horizontally. More flames spring from the book, and at the center of the fire rests a modest reliquary containing a small sample of Saint Anthony’s skin.

Reliquary of Saint Anthony, close-up of relic, the Shrine of Saint Anthony, Ellicott City, Maryland, USA

The reliquary appears to be identical to another reliquary containing the saint’s skin that I once examined in Krakow, Poland. Located at the Archdiocesan Museum in Krakow, that reliquary was not incorporated into a larger display but was, rather, exhibited along with other reliquaries in a simple, museum-style glass case. Presumably, that relic was also a gift of the Basilica of Saint Anthony of Padua, which probably uses identical casings to house relics given as devotional gifts to other institutions.

Relic of Saint Antoni Padewski (Saint Anthony of Padua), silver and gold plate, Archdiocesan Museum, Krakow, Poland

Saint Anthony in Art

In art, Saint Anthony is most commonly portrayed as a Franciscan friar carrying either a book, a white lily, the baby Jesus, fire, or a burning heart.[14] He may also be shown with a flowered cross, a book pierced by a sword, a fish (evoking his Sermon to the Fishes), or a kneeling donkey or mule.[15] The symbol of the donkey derives from a story concerning a heretic from Toulouse (sometimes the city is Rimini) who refused to acknowledge Christ’s presence in the Eucharist unless he witnessed his donkey kneel before the Sacrament.[16] In one version of the story, as Saint Anthony was delivering the Eucharist to a dying man elsewhere in the city, he encountered the man’s donkey on the street. The donkey dutifully bowed its head and knelt before the Eucharist for everyone to see.[17]

Miracle of the Mule, Shrine of Saint Anthony, Ellicott City, Maryland, USA. This statue group is located on the grounds of the Shrine of Saint Anthony. A mule or donkey kneels before the Eucharist, held aloft by Saint Anthony in a monstrance.

White lilies signify Saint Anthony’s purity, and in many parts of the world, lilies are blessed on the Feast of Saint Anthony, the 13th of June. Meanwhile, the image of Saint Anthony with the Christ child has apparently evolved over time. In earlier depictions of Saint Anthony with the Christ child, Jesus may be shown on the pages of a book, rising out of a book, or standing directly on a book in Saint Anthony’s hands. During the 17th century, artists began to portray the Christ child as fully emerged from the book and often placed him physically in the saint’s arms.[18] The image of the Christ child in or on a book (usually the Bible) likely represents the incarnation of the word of God, and Saint Anthony’s association with the visual metaphor is not surprising. Saint Anthony often preached about the Incarnation and helped spread the Incarnate Word of God in his celebrated sermons.[19]

Today, Saint Anthony continues to be remembered for his great learning and his prodigious talent as a preacher. In 1946, Pope Pius XII declared the saint a doctor of the church — officially, a “Doctor of the Gospel.”[20] Meanwhile, his incorrupt tongue is kept in a crystal urn in the Basilica of Saint Anthony of Padua (Basilica Pontificia di Sant’Antonio di Padova) in Padua, Italy.

Saint Anthony of Padua, Vincenzo Foppa, oil (?) on panel (1495/1500). Here, Saint Anthony carries two of his common attributes: a white lily and a book.

Saint Anthony of Padua, Vincenzo Foppa, oil (?) on panel (1495/1500), National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC. Here, Saint Anthony carries two of his common attributes: a white lily and a book.

[1] 3 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 536 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956).

[2] Id.

[3] Saint Anthony of Padua: His Life, Legends, and Devotions 64 (Jack Wintz ed., 2012).

[4] Id.

[5] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 535.

[6] Id.

[7] The Little Flowers of St. Francis 101 (W. Heywood trans., 1906).

[8] Id.

[9] Id.

[10] Id.

[11] Id. at 102.

[12] Id. at 103.

[13] The Shrine of St. Anthony: A Ministry of the Conventual Franciscan Friars (n.d.).

[14] Rosa Giorgi, Saints in Art 38 (Stefano Zuffi ed. & Thomas Michael Hartmann trans., 2002).

[15] George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art 105 (1954).

[16] Id.

[17] Id.

[18] Jack Wintz, “Why St. Anthony Holds the Child Jesus,” in Saint Anthony of Padua: His Life, Legends, and Devotions 36 (2012).

[19] Id. at 38-39.

[20] Wintz, supra note 18, at 38.

The Marienschrein at Aachen Cathedral: Reliquary of the Cloak of the Virgin Mary

19 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by thereliquarian in Art History, Metal Reliquary

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Tags

Aachen, Chartres, cloak, Germany, Marienschrein, Nuremberg, relic, reliquary, Saint Mary, stained-glass window, textile, Virgin Mary

The Alba Madonna, Rafael, oil on panel transferred to canvas (1510), National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Virgin in a Blue Dress

In his superb book on Christian symbolism, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art, George Ferguson writes, “No other figure, except that of Christ Himself, was so often portrayed in Renaissance art as the Virgin Mary.”[1] Ferguson further notes that Saint Mary was traditionally painted wearing blue, the color of truth and a symbol of the sky, heaven, and heavenly love.[2] But did the historical Saint Mary actually wear blue? Evidence preserved in various shrines suggests the Virgin’s blue wardrobe may have been an invention of Medieval and Renaissance artists. These artists expressed their devotion to the Virgin by using a very scarce and very expensive pigment to paint her garments. The pigment, known as ultramarine, was a deep, celestial blue.

Madonna and Child with Saint Jerome and Saint John the Baptist, Cima da Conegliano, oil on panel (1492-1495), National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

The Marienschrein and the Four Great Relics of Aachen

The Marienschrein, or Shrine of Saint Mary, at Aachen Cathedral in Aachen (Aix-La-Chapelle), Germany houses four great relics: the cloak of Saint Mary, the swaddling clothes of the infant Jesus, the beheading cloth of Saint John the Baptist, and the loincloth worn by Jesus at his crucifixion. The relics were rarely displayed publicly before the 14th century; however, since about the mid-14th century, the relics have been removed from the shrine approximately every seven years for public veneration.[3]

Marienschrein (Shrine of Saint Mary), gold (1230-1239), Aachen Cathedral, Aachen, Germany

I am unsure exactly what color the relic of Saint Mary’s cloak is, or appears to be, today. Judging by a picture of the garment taken when it was last displayed in 2007, the cloak appears to be flaxen in color, or yellowish gray, with possible hints of light blue along its hem. It is certainly not the deep blue favored by Renaissance artists, though perhaps it has faded significantly over time. Or perhaps it was never blue to begin with. [NOTE: See update below for additional information.]

One other clue to what color Saint Mary may have worn during her lifetime is preserved 300 miles southwest of Aachen, at Chartres Cathedral in Chartres, France. One of the cathedral’s most famous stained-glass windows, a 12th-century window known as Notre Dame de la Belle Verrière (Our Lady of the Beautiful Glass), depicts the Virgin and Child in a sedes sapientiae (seat of wisdom) arrangement with the Christ Child seated on the lap of the Holy Mother. Victoria Finlay, in her engaging study of color and pigments, Color: A Natural History of the Palette, suggests the window shows the Virgin Mary in a blue veil.[4] “The veil,” she writes, “is a pale color, light enough to allow the sun to flood through and depict the young woman’s purity.”[5] However, “it is unmistakably light blue, and worn over a blue tunic.”[6] She further notes that the glass-makers who created the window in 1150 “would have had the ‘real’ veil to model their design on, which is curious, because when you see the precious relic in its gold nineteenth-century box . . . it is not blue at all. More of an off-white: the faded clothing of the melancholy mother of a martyr.”[7]

The Madonna of the Stars, Jacopo Tintoretto, oil on canvas (second half of the 16th century), National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

A Blue More Precious Than Gold

If the Virgin Mary did not wear blue, why did artists regularly paint her in blue garments? Victoria Finlay offers several insights. First, she explains that Saint Mary did not always wear blue in artistic representations. In Russian icons, for example, the Virgin Mary more commonly wore red, and in Byzantine art, she often wore purple.[8] On other occasions, she was portrayed in white to represent her innocence, or black to express her grief.[9] Finlay also observes that artists commonly dressed her in a manner to honor her, and their choice of color was frequently decided by cost and rarity.[10] She writes, “In fifteenth-century Holland, Mary often wore scarlet because that was the most expensive cloth; the earlier Byzantine choice of purple was similarly because this was a valuable dye, and only a few people were important enough to carry it off. So when, in around the thirteenth century, ultramarine arrived in Italy as the most expensive color on the market, it was logical to use it to dress the most precious symbol of the faith.”[11]

Example of ultramarine pigment, Albrecht-Dürer-Haus, Nuremberg, Germany.

The deep, rich ultramarine prized by the artists of the Renaissance derived from lapis lazuli, an intensely blue, semi-precious stone found in only a few places on Earth. For artists such as Michelangelo, Titian, and Dürer, the only source of ultramarine was Afghanistan, a “mythical land so far away that no European . . . had actually been there.”[12] Finlay notes that ultramarine was once “the most valuable paint material in the world,” and artists such as Michelangelo would have had to wait for their patrons to procure it for them because they could not afford it on their own.[13] Given its tremendous cost and unquestionable rarity, then, it is not surprising that so many artists chose to clothe the Virgin Mary in ultramarine. Fortuitously, ultramarine also happens to be a serene and majestic color, one truly appropriate for the Queen of Heaven.

***

[UPDATE, 27 JUNE 2014.] The following description is from the Aachen Pilgrimage 2014 (Heiligtumsfahrt 2014) website: “St. Mary’s robe is an ancient work of domestic embroidery. . . . It is made of naturally coloured linen and is embroidered with vertical and horizontal lines in a grid pattern. In Israel flax and cotton were only to be found on the coast and in the lowlands of Jordan . . . .” The website further notes that the dress is 153 cm long; the seam circumference is 246 cm; and the span of the sleeves is 132 cm. The Aachen Pilgrimage 2014 homepage can be found here. More information about the cloak of Saint Mary can be found here. A picture of the robe can be viewed here.

***

Madonna and Child, Vittore Carapaccio, oil on panel (1505-1510), National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Madonna and Child, Jan Gossaert, oil on panel (c. 1532), National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Virgin and Child, sandstone with traces of polychrome (c. 1325-1350), Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Madonna and Child, stained-glass window, Strasbourg Cathedral, Strasbourg, France.

Aachen Cathedral with High Altar and Pala d’Oro in foreground and Marienschrein (Shrine of Saint Mary) behind. Hanging from the vault above the choir is a wooden medallion of the Madonna and Child carved by Jan van Steffesweert of Maastricht in 1524.

[1] George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art 71 (1954).

[2] Id. at 151.

[3] John Carroll Cruz, Relics 23 (1984).

[4] Victoria Finlay, Color: A Natural History of the Palette 317 (2002).

[5] Id.

[6] Id.

[7] Id.

[8] Id. at 292-93.

[9] Id. at 293.

[10] Id.

[11] Id.

[12] Id. at 282.

[13] Id. at 287.

Saint Bernward of Hildesheim: Medieval Patron of the Arts

21 Friday Feb 2014

Posted by thereliquarian in "Speaking" Reliquary, Metal Reliquary

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Charlemagne, Croatia, Germany, Hildesheim, Holy Cross, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, relic, reliquary, Saint Bernward, Saint Cuthbert, Saint Oswald, Saint Valentine, Saints Cosmas and Damian, speaking reliquary, Venerable Bede, Zadar

Baptismal Font (detail), copper alloy (c. 1226), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany

Saint Bernward of Hildesheim

During the Middle Ages, few individuals did more to support and develop the arts than Saint Bernward of Hildesheim. Considered one the era’s greatest patrons of the arts,¹ Saint Bernward’s legacy included the commissioning of Hildesheim Cathedral’s monumental bronze doors² and the construction of the abbey church of Saint Michael in Hildesheim.³ At a recent exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, a number of objects commissioned by Saint Bernward, as well as other important objects from the treasury of Hildesheim Cathedral, were on display. The exhibition included several reliquaries, including a skillfully fashioned reliquary containing the skull of Saint Oswald and an arm reliquary that once held relics of Saint Bernward himself.

Saint Bernward was born to a noble Saxon family and served as the tutor of the future emperor Otto III before his appointment as Bishop of Hildesheim in 993. Hildesheim is one of the oldest cities in northern Germany, and the bishopric of Hildesheim was established by Louis the Pious, Charlemagne’s heir and successor, in 815.⁴ During the Middle Ages, Hildesheim was renowned for its metalworking, and many of Saint Bernward’s commissions would not have been possible if not for the extraordinary skill of the region’s metalsmiths. As noted in Medieval Treasures from Hildesheim, the proximity of nearby mines, which provided easy access to raw materials, “gave rise to a tradition of metalworking expertise that reached its peak during Bernward’s era.”⁵

The Golden Madonna (Virgin and Child Enthroned)

Golden Madonna, gold over linden wood, (c. 1022), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany

Neither Bernward’s Doors from Hildesheim Cathedral nor Bernward’s Column, an imposing bronze column circa 1015 representing “the first triumphal column since antiquity,” were on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but the exhibition did include other impressive examples of the metalworkers’ art. The Golden Madonna, which dates to before 1022, has been attributed to Saint Bernward’s patronage.⁶ Sheathed in gold over a linden wood core, the depiction of the Virgin and Child enthroned is one of the oldest sculptures in the round from the Latin West.⁷

Reliquary of the Holy Cross

Cross Reliquary, gilded silver, rock crystal, and semiprecious stones, Hildesheim, Germany (c. 1180-1190), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany.

A reliquary cross containing relics of the Holy Cross was also on display. According to legend, Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony and Bavaria obtained the relics from the Byzantine emperor in Constantinople during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. On his safe return to Saxony in 1173, Henry allegedly donated the relics to the Church of the Holy Cross in Hildesheim, although no records supporting this story appear to exist.⁸ Nevertheless, the reliquary cross’s opulent gilding and intricately hammered ornamentation, as well as its impressive array of colored gems and rock crystal, attest to the significance of the darkened slivers of wood nestled at the center of the cross.

The Ringelheim Crucifix and Hidden Relics of Saints Cosmas and Damian

Ringelheim Crucifix, linden wood and oak (c. 1000)

In addition to the Golden Madonna, Saint Bernward commissioned other large sculptures during his reign as bishop, including a striking wooden crucifix known as the Ringelheim Crucifix. Carved from linden wood and oak, the crucifix stands at over five feet tall and represents one of the most significant monumental wooden sculptures from the Ottonian period in existence today.⁹ Though carved as an object of devotion, conservation work conducted in the mid-20^th century revealed that the crucifix also served as an inconspicuous reliquary. Concealed in a small cavity in Christ’s head, conservators discovered several relics, including two stones from the Holy Sepulcher and two bone fragments, wrapped in silk, of the twin saints Cosmas and Damian.¹⁰

Reliquary of Saint Oswald and the Story of His Skull

Reliquary of Saint Oswald, gold, silver, pearls, and gemstones over wood core (c. 1185-1189), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany

A more traditional reliquary, the Reliquary of Saint Oswald, was also on display at the exhibition. Richly crafted from gold and silver and embellished with niello, cloisonné, pearls, gemstones, and recycled Roman cameos and intaglios, the reliquary is regarded as a masterpiece of medieval goldsmithing.¹¹ The reliquary’s most obvious and most striking feature is undoubtedly the gold bust of Saint Oswald placed atop the reliquary’s octagonal base. The saint’s eyes, finished in niello, were eerie and arresting, their blackened pupils eternally transfixed on the middle distance. Meanwhile, the saint’s crown seemed remarkable for its odd fit. I later learned that the crown and its decoration were cobbled together from earlier components, including a Roman cameo prominently displayed at the crown’s center.¹² Apparently, sovereigns occasionally donated their own crowns to churches for reuse on bust reliquaries, although whether this happened to be the case with the Reliquary of Saint Oswald is unclear.¹³

Reliquary of Saint Oswald 2 The Reliquary of Saint Oswald was designed to carry the skull of Saint Oswald, and the relic is evidently still enclosed within the reliquary, wrapped in silk. Saint Oswald was a King of Northumbria who lived in the early 7^th century.¹⁴ According to the Venerable Bede, Saint Oswald was killed in battle by the pagan king of the Mercians at a place called Maserfield in 642.¹⁵ The Venerable Bede observes that the extent of Saint Oswald’s faith and devotion were made evident by the miracles that occurred at the spot where he died in battle.¹⁶ “[I]nfirm men and cattle are healed to this day,” he reports, and as a consequence, “many took up the very dust of the place where his body fell, and putting it into water, did much good with it to their friends who were sick.”¹⁷ In their enthusiasm for this holy dust, the people eventually carried away so much dirt that “there remained a hole as deep as the height of a man.”¹⁸

The Venerable Bede further explains that Saint Oswald’s head was originally buried in Lindisfarne. The Venerable Bede writes that after the Battle of Maserfield, the king of the Mercians commanded that Saint Oswald’s head, hands, and arms “be cut off from the body, and set upon stakes.”¹⁹ Returning with an army the next year, Saint Oswald’s successor, Oswy, removed the slain king’s body parts from their stakes and eventually buried Saint Oswald’s head at Lindisfarne Abbey. A century later, Saint Oswald’s head was translated to Durham Cathedral, where it was reburied with the body of Saint Cuthbert and the Venerable Bede himself.²⁰ In 1538, however, under the authority of King Henry VIII, the relics of Saint Cuthbert and Saint Oswald were removed from their shrine and were deposited in an unmarked grave behind the high altar of Durham Cathedral.²¹ According to some sources, the relics of Saint Oswald were eventually destroyed during the Reformation—though perhaps his skull survived, cosseted away in an opulent reliquary.²²

Arm Reliquary of Saint Bernward

Army Reliquary of Saint Bernward, silver, gold, and semiprecious stones over wood core (c. 1194), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany

The exhibition also included an arm reliquary that once held the relics of Saint Bernward. Reliquaries in the shape of body parts, also called “speaking reliquaries” (redende Reliquiare), first gained popularity in the 11^th century and were intended to evoke the character of the relics they contained.²³ So, for example, leg reliquaries held leg bones, and foot reliquaries held foot bones. In the Permanent Exhibition of Religious Art in Zadar, Croatia I even encountered a shoulder blade reliquary, shaped somewhat like a baby grand piano, that allegedly contained the shoulder blade of Saint Mark.²⁴

Church of Saint Donatus, Zadar, Croatia. The church of Saint Donatus is located across the street from the convent of Saint Mary and the Permanent Exhibition of Religious Art.

In his superb study on relics, Holy Bones, Holy Dust, Charles Freeman argues that arm reliquaries sometimes served an additional purpose beyond that of mere identification. Freeman notes that after Mass, celebrants traditionally blessed their congregations before they departed.²⁵ Freeman writes that a blessing given by a bishop “was of a much higher status [than] that by a mere priest, and congregations often felt they had been badly done by. Yet if a priest held up an arm reliquary and blessed the congregation with that, it was believed to have the same effect as if the bishop himself had been there.”²⁶ The posture of the Arm Reliquary of Saint Bernward—its right index finger and middle finger extended to heaven, its thumb curled slightly inward—suggests that it may occasionally have been used for this purpose, to deliver the final blessing. Another arm reliquary in the permanent collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Arm Reliquary of Saint Valentine, likely served a similar function.

Army Reliquary of Saint Valentine, silver, gilded silver, and blue cabochon, Basel, Switzerland (c. 1380-1400), Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

Because of his patronage of the arts and his own reputed skill as an architect and artist, Saint Bernward is recognized today as a patron saint of architects, goldsmiths, painters, and sculptors. While the church he helped build, the abbey church of Saint Michael, may be his most conspicuous achievement, he accomplished so much more as a bishop and patron of the arts.²⁷ As Medieval Treasures from Hildesheim states, “While many of Hildesheim’s bishops endowed its institutions with extraordinary works of art, no donor was more prolific or had a more significant impact on Hildesheim’s production than Bernward, the thirteenth bishop of Hildesheim.”²⁸

Cross Reliquary (detail), gilded silver, rock crystal, and semiprecious stones, Hildesheim, Germany (c. 1180-1190), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany.

Arm Reliquary of Saint Bernward (detail), silver, gold, and semiprecious stones over wood core (c. 1194), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany

Small Bernward Cross, copper alloy, gilding, and semiprecious stones, Hildesheim, Germany (c. 1170-1180), Hildesheim Cathedral, Hildesheim, Germany.

Reliquary Cross (detail), silver, gilded silver, enamel, coral, and rock crystal, Italy (the Marches), c. 1375-1400, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. This reliquary cross from the late 14th century is part of the permanent collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Slivers of wood can still be seen encased at the center of the cross.

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, New York

1 Metropolitan Museum of Art, Medieval Treasures from Hildesheim 6 (Peter Barnet et al. eds., 2013).

2 Id. at 11. According to Medieval Treasures from Hildesheim, the casting of Bernward’s enormous and highly decorated bronze doors, now known as Bernward’s Doors, was “a technological breakthrough for the Middle Ages and a milestone in the history of art.” Id.

3 Id. at 7.

4 Id. at 3.

5 Id. at 14, 16.

6 Id. 42.

7 Id.

8 Id. at 86.

9 Id. at 44.

10 Id. Medieval Treasures from Hildesheim further notes that other monumental crucifixes similarly served as reliquaries.

11 Id. at 88.

12 Id.

13 Id. Examples of this reuse can be found at Prague Cathedral and Saint-Denis in Paris.

14 Charles Freeman, Holy Bones, Holy Dust 63 (2011).

15 Saint Bede, The Venerable Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of England 123 (J. A. Giles ed., 1847).

16 Id. at 123–24.

17 Id. at 124.

18 Id.

19 Id. at 129.

20 Saint Bede, 1 The Complete Works of Venerable Bede: Life, Poems, Letters, Etc. at xcviii, xciii (J. A. Giles trans., 1843); Thomas J. Craughwell, Saints Preserved 228–29 (2011).

21 Craughwell, supra note 20, at 229.

22 Id.

23 Freeman, supra note 14, at 82.

24 The Permanent Exhibition of Religious Art is also more informally known as the “Gold and Silver of Zadar.” Located in the Benedictine convent next to the church of Saint Mary, the exhibition includes an overwhelming and truly extraordinary collection of relics and other sacred objects, the oldest of which—a small pectoral cross—dates from the 8^th century. See Ivo Petricioli, The Permanent Exhibition of Religious Art in Zadar at VIII (2004). According to Michelin, the museum itself is “[o]ne of the best museums in Croatia.” Sacred Art Museum, Michelin Travel, http://travel.michelin.com/web/destination/Croatia-Zadar/tourist_site-Sacred_Art_Museum-Trg_Opatice_Cike. The Reliquary of the Shoulder Blade of Saint Mark, which is fashioned of embossed gilded copper metal plate, is estimated to date to the 13^th century.

25 Id.

26 Id.

27 Medieval Treasures from Hildesheim suggests that the original structure of the church may have been preserved over the centuries “because Bernward’s sainthood and supposed involvement as an architect and artist gave St. Michael’s itself the status of a relic.” Metropolitan Museum of Art, supra note 1, at 7.

28 Id. at 6.

The Shrine of the Three Kings: Grand Reliquary of the Magi

21 Saturday Dec 2013

Posted by thereliquarian in Metal Reliquary, Tomb / Sarcophagus

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Christmas, Cologne, Cologne Cathedral, Germany, Hildesheim, Italy, John of Hildesheim, Magi, Milan, mosaic, Munich, reliquary, Saint Helena, Saint Leo, Saint Ursula, shrine, Star of Bethlehem, Three Kings, Venerable Bede

Adoration of the Magi (detail), Jacob Cornelisz van Oostsanen, oil on panel (1517), Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

The story of the Magi, or the three kings, is a celebrated part of the Christmas story and a popular motif in Western culture. The story can be found in the Gospel of Matthew, though most details of the Magi’s visit derive from a more obscure fourteenth-century source known as the Historia Trium Regum. Matthew’s gospel describes the mysterious star of Bethlehem; the arrival of “wise men from the East”; the Magi’s reception with King Herod; the Magi’s visit to the infant Jesus; their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh; and the warning the wise men received to return home by another way.¹ Other details, however, are omitted from Matthew’s Christmas tale. Exactly how many wise men arrived from the East? Who were they? What were their names? And what happened to them after they returned from Bethlehem? Ultimately, although clearly outside the scope of Matthew’s gospel, how did the bodies of the three kings come to be laid to rest in Cologne, Germany?

The Historia Trium Regum, or History of the Three Kings, by John of Hildesheim elaborates on Saint Matthew’s story and provides an intriguing coda to the narrative, one that explains how the relics of the three kings were brought to the ancient city of Cologne.² From the Historia we learn that there were three wise men and that the three men were actually kings from the East—from the lands of Ind, Chaldea, and Persia. The three kings, named Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper,³ did not initially know each other before individually setting out to “seek and worship the Lord and King of the Jews.”

Window of the Adoration of the Magi, Cologne Cathedral

Window of the Adoration of the Magi, stained glass (1846), Cologne Cathedral (Kölner Dom), Cologne, Germany. The Adoration Window actually combines two events related to the birth of Jesus: the Adoration of the Magi and the Adoration of the Shepherds.

The Star of Bethlehem and the Journey of the Magi

According to the Historia, the star that heralded the birth of Jesus had long been prophesied and watched for by the people of Ind. The Historia states, “Now, in the time when Balaam prophesied of the Star that should betoken the birth of Christ, all the great lords and the people of Ind and in the East desired greatly to see this Star of which he spake.”⁴ Consequently, the people gave gifts to the keepers of the Hill of Vaws, a tall hill in the Kingdom of Ind that was used as a lookout point, and bade the sentinels, “if they saw by night or by day any star in the air, that had not been seen aforetime,” to send word to the people of Ind.⁵

Eventually, the star appeared. “When Christ was born in Bethlehem, His Star began to rise in the manner of the sun, bright shining. It ascended above the Hill of Vaws, and all that day in the highest air it abode without moving, insomuch that when the sun was hot and most high there was no difference in shining betwixt them.” Following the day of the nativity, “the Star ascended up into the firmament, and it had right many long streaks and beams, more burning and brighter than a brand of fire; and, as an eagle flying and beating the air with his wings, right so the streaks and beams of the Star stirred about.”⁶

The star guided each of the kings from his native land. We are told that “[w]hen they stood still and rested, the Star stood still; and when they went forward again, the Star always went before them . . . and gave light all the way.” As the three kings and their retinues converged on Jerusalem, they finally met. “[N]otwithstanding that none of them ever before had seen the other, nor knew him, nor had heard of his coming, yet at their meeting each one with great reverence and joy kissed the other.” They continued as a group into Jerusalem and then to Bethlehem, which they entered on “the sixth hour of the day.” Together they rode through the streets until they came to a little house. There, “the Star stood still, and then descended and shone with so great a light that the little house was full of radiance, till anon the Star went upward again into the air, and stood still always above the same place.”⁷

The Adoration of the Magi and the Feast of the Epiphany

The kings “fell down and worshipped” Jesus at the house and offered him magnificent gifts.⁸ In addition to silver, jewels, and precious stones, Melchior gave Jesus “a round apple of gold” and thirty gilt pennies; Balthazar gave Christ incense; and Jaspar gave him myrrh, which he offered “with weeping and tears.”⁹ In art, this event is often referred to as the “Adoration of the Magi,” while their visitation to the infant Jesus is celebrated as the Feast of the Epiphany, or “manifestation.”¹⁰

Columba Altar (detail), Rogier van der Weyden, oil on panel (c. 1455), Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany

The Magi remained in Bethlehem for some time before preparing to return home. In a dream, the three kings were told not to return to Herod, so they chose to return to their homes by another route. When they left Bethlehem, “the Star that had gone before appeared no more.” Journeying together for many days, they eventually came to the Hill of Vaws, where they built a chapel “in worship of the Child they had sought.” They agreed to meet at the chapel once a year and “ordained that the Hill of Vaws should be their place of burial.”¹¹

The Death of the Wise Men

Many years later, “a little before the feast of Christmas, there appeared a wonderful Star above the cities where these three kings dwelt, and they knew thereby that their time was come when they should pass from earth.” Together, they agreed to build “a fair and large tomb” at the Hill of Vaws, “and there the three Holy Kings, Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper died, and were buried in the same tomb by their sorrowing people.”¹² As Mark Rose observed in an article for Archeology, “If we were to assume that this actually happened, that all three died at the same place at the same time, it might have been in the mid-first century (since the kings were adults already in Bethlehem).”¹³

Two centuries later, the Historia explains that Saint Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine, journeyed to Ind and recovered the bodies of the three kings from their tomb on the Hill of Vaws. She put them into a single chest ornamented with great riches and brought the relics to Constantinople and the church of Saint Sophia, also known as the Hagia Sophia. In the late sixth century, under the Emperor Mauricius, the relics were translated to Italy, where “they were laid in a fair church in the city of Milan.”

Shrine of the Three Kings (detail), Cologne Cathedral, Cologne, Germany

Shrine of the Three Kings (detail), Nicholas of Verdun, gold, silver, and semi-precious stones (1190-1220), Cologne Cathedral, Cologne, Germany

The relics of the three kings remained in Milan until the twelfth century when the city of Milan rebelled against the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick I, also known as Frederick Barbarossa. In need of assistance against the Milanese, the emperor appealed to Rainald von Dassel, Archbishop of Cologne, who recaptured Milan and delivered the city to the emperor. In gratitude, and “at the Archbishop’s great entreaty,” the emperor transferred the relics to the Archbishop in 1164. The Archbishop, “with great solemnity and in procession,” carried the bodies of the three kings from Milan to Cologne, where they were placed in the church of Saint Peter. “And all the people of the country roundabout, with all the reverence they might, received these relics, and there in the city of Cologne they are kept and beholden of all manner of nations unto this day.” The Historia concludes, “Thus endeth the legend of these three blessed kings—Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper.”¹⁴

The Relics of the Magi at Cologne Cathedral

John of Hildesheim may have thought he had had the last word on the three kings, but the Shrine of the Three Kings at Cologne Cathedral (pictured above) and the precious relics it purportedly contains has continued to fascinate modern visitors.¹⁵ Are the bones sealed in the reliquary really those of Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper?

One of the earliest and most intriguing depictions of the Magi is a late sixth-century mosaic located at New Basilica of Saint Apollinaris (Basilica di Sant’Apollinare Nuovo) in Ravenna, Italy. The Magi appear dressed in Eastern clothing, carrying traditional gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.¹⁶ Additionally, the three kings are portrayed as men of different ages: Jasper is depicted as an older man with white hair and beard; Balthazar is shown as a middle-aged man with dark hair and beard; and Melchior is represented as a beardless young man. (In contrast, the Venerable Bede, writing in the 8th century, identifies Melchior as an “old man, with long beard,” Jasper as “young, beardless, [and] of ruddy hue,” and Balthazar as “with heavy beard” and “middle aged.”)

Mosaic of the Magi, Basilica di Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna, Italy. Courtesy of Nina Aldin Thune, Wikimedia Commons.

In 2004, Egyptologist Bob Brier and The Learning Channel examined whether the bones in the Shrine of the Three Kings could possibly be the bones of the Magi, and their investigation revealed something remarkable.¹⁷ Scrutinizing the cranial sutures of the three skulls kept in the shrine, Brier’s team concluded that the skulls appeared to be from individuals of different ages: one older (the sutures were completely fused), one middle-aged (the sutures were mostly fused), and one younger (the sutures were incompletely fused). The relative ages of the skulls appeared to corroborate the depiction of the Magi in the Ravenna mosaic.

The three skulls in the shrine were also graced with golden crowns, apparently given to the church by King Otto IV of Brunswick in 1199. Incidentally, in recognition of the importance of the kings’ relics, three golden crowns appear on the coat of arms of the city of Cologne. As Gerald J. Brault explains in Early Blazon: Heraldic Terminology in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries with Special Reference to Arthurian Heraldry, “Three crowns were frequently an allusion to the Three Wise Men whose relics were brought by Frederick I Barbarossa from Milan to Cologne in 1164. Commemorating this event, three crowns are featured in the arms of the City of Cologne dating from the end of the thirteenth century as well as on the seal of the University of Cologne from 1392 onwards.”¹⁸

King of Kings

For those who have visited Cologne Cathedral, the impressive and stately Shrine of the Three Kings serves as a visual reminder of events that transpired over two thousand years ago, when three men left the comfort of their homes to worship at the feet of an infant. Pope Saint Leo, writing in the fifth century, helps keep the meaning of their visit in perspective: “When a star had conducted them to worship Jesus, they did not find Him commanding devils or raising the dead or restoring sight to the blind or speech to the dumb, or employed in any divine action; but a silent babe, dependent upon a mother’s care, giving no sign of power but exhibiting a miracle of humility.”¹⁹ In the din of our modern world, this message of hope and faith may strike some as something of an epiphany.

Shrine of the Three Kings, Cologne Cathedral, Cologne, Germany

. . .

To all our readers, we wish you a merry Christmas and a joyous and safe holiday season. We hope to see you back in 2014 and look forward to sharing further posts with you at Reliquarian.com in the new year.

. . .

Die Heiligen Drei Könige (The Three Holy Kings), oak (originally polychromed) (1490), Nuremberg, Germany. These figures are rare examples of Dutch medieval sculpture and were originally displayed on the pillars of a church, along with the Virgin Mary. The physiognomy and lively pose of the sculpture on the left identify him as King Balthazar, who is often depicted as a dark complexioned, “exotic” figure from either Africa or Arabia.

Die Heiligen Drei Könige (The Three Holy Kings) (detail), oak (originally polychromed) (1490), Nuremberg, Germany

Adoration of the Magi, oil on canvas, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne, Germany

Adoration of the Magi (detail), painted wood (late 15th century), Archdiocesan Musem, Krakow, Poland

Poklon Trzech Króli (Adoration of the Magi) (detail), painted wood (c. 1450-1475), Archdiocesan Musem, Krakow, Poland. This sculpture was originally displayed in Saint Mary’s Church in Krakow and was probably the central scene of a lost triptych. According to the Archdiocesan Museum, it is an example of the “angular” late Gothic style of sculpture in Krakow that preceded the later, more “expressive” work of Wit Stwosz (Veit Stoss). See Andrzej Jozef Nowobilski, Origin Collection Activity 70 (2011).

Adoration of the Magi - Metropolitan Museum

Adoration of the Magi (detail), oak with paint and gilding, South Netherlandish (1520), Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

Shrine of the Three Kings, Cologne Cathedral, Cologne, Germany. During the Middle Ages, the shrine was kept in the crossing. Today, it is displayed above the high altar, at the rear of the inner choir.

1 Matthew 2:1–16.

2 See The Early English Text Society, The Three Kings of Cologne: An Early English Translation of the “Historia Trium Regum” by John of Hildesheim (C. Horstmann ed., 1886); Steph Mineart, The Three Kings of Cologne—A Legend of the Middle Ages, CommonPlaceBook.com (Mar. 3, 2004), http://commonplacebook.com/culture/the_three_kings/ (featuring a modernized translation of the story by H.S. Morris). John of Hildesheim was a Carmelite friar who lived in the Prince-Bishopric of Hildesheim in what is not present-day Germany.

3 “Balthazar” is sometimes spelled “Balthasar.” “Jasper” sometimes appears as “Gaspar” or “Caspar.”

4 The Three Kings of Cologne—A Legend of the Middle Ages, supra note 2.

5 Id. The Hill of Vaws is also known as the Hill of Victory.

6 Id.

7 Id.

8 Id.

9 Id.

10 George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art 78 (1961). The Feast of the Epiphany was traditionally celebrated on January 6^th, the twelfth day of Christmas.

11 The Three Kings of Cologne—A Legend of the Middle Ages, supra note 2.

12 Id.

13 Mark Rose, “The Three Kings & the Star,” Archeology, Dec. 21, 2004, available at http://archive.archaeology.org/online/reviews/threekings/.

14 The Three Kings of Cologne—A Legend of the Middle Ages, supra note 2.

15 See Der Kölner Dom, http://www.koelner-dom.de/ (last visited Dec. 21, 2013) (official website of Cologne Cathedral).

16 Ferguson, supra note 10, at 78. As George Ferguson points out in Signs and Symbols in Christian Art, the three gifts apparently hold a symbolic meaning: “gold to a King, frankincense to One Divine, myrrh, the emblem of death, to a Sufferer.” These gifts “represent the offering to Christ of wealth and energy, adoration, and self-sacrifice.” Id.

17 Mummy Detective: The Three Kings (The Learning Channel television broadcast Dec. 23, 2004); see also Rose, supra note 13.

18 Gerald J. Brault, Early Blazon: Heraldic Terminology in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries with Special Reference to Arthurian Heraldry 45 (2nd ed. 1997). The eleven black “tears” on the escutcheon of the coat arms, more formally known as gouttes of tar, have come to represent Saint Ursula (Cologne’s other patron saint) and the eleven thousand virgins with whom she was martyred. In reality, they are likely representations of the black spots commonly found on ermine fur. See Cologne Coat of Arms, Cologne Tourist Board, http://www.cologne-tourism.com/attractions-culture/city-history/coat-of-arms.html.

19 See 1 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 40 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956).

Saint Matthias: The Thirteenth Apostle

11 Sunday Aug 2013

Posted by thereliquarian in Altarpiece, Stone Reliquary

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altarpiece, basilica, Germany, Krakow, Poland, reliquary, Saint Helena, Saint James, Saint Mary, Saint Matthias, Saint Peter, Trier, Veit Stoss

Veit Stoss, Saint Mary’s Altar (detail with Saint Matthias), Saint Mary’s Basilica, Krakow, Poland

The Kiss of Judas

Judas Iscariot, one of the original Twelve Apostles of Jesus, infamously betrayed Christ with a kiss in exchange for thirty pieces of silver. Following the Last Supper, Judas led the priests and Temple guards of the Sanhedrin to the Garden of Gethsemane, where he identified Jesus to the gathering crowd with a kiss. His treachery set in motion the events leading to the arrest, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus.

Giotto Scrovegni, Kiss of Judas (courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

Giotto, The Kiss of Judas (1304-06), Scrovegni Chapel, Padua, Italy (courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

Upon learning that Jesus had been sentenced to death, Judas repented. According to the Gospel of Saint Matthew, “Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.”[1] Judas’s plea fell on deaf ears. “What is that to us?” the chief priests and elders responded.[2] Judas then “cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.”[3] In a conflicting account, retold in the Acts of the Apostles, Peter states that Judas “purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out.”[4]

Whatever the manner of his death, Judas’s betrayal opened a void in the ranks of the Apostles. At a gathering of Jesus’ followers, which met shortly after the Ascension, Peter proposed that the vacancy in the Apostolate be filled. Two disciples were nominated: Joseph, who was known as Barsabas, and Matthias.

Once Barsabas and Matthias had been singled out, the group prayed for guidance. “Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, shew whether of these two thou hast chosen, that he may take part of this ministry and apostleship, from which Judas by transgression fell, that he might go to his own place.”[5] They then drew lots to select Judas’s replacement. The lot fell on Matthias, “and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.”[6]

Not much is known of Matthias’s life following his election to the Apostolate.[7] Some sources claim he preached first in Judea and then Ethiopia before he was eventually crucified for his faith.[8] Others state he traveled to Ethiopia, where he preached near the sea of Hyssus, and died at Sebastopolis.[9] Still others declare he was stoned and then beheaded in Jerusalem.[10]

Reliquary of Saint Matthias, Trier, Germany

Ultimately, Saint Matthias’s relics were purportedly brought to Rome by Saint Helena – although some speculate that the relics in Rome are those of a different Matthias: Saint Matthias, Bishop of Jerusalem, who died in 120.[11] Some of Saint Matthias the Apostle’s relics were also translated to Trier, where they are currently kept in the crypt of the abbey church of Saint Matthias.

Abbey Church of Saint Matthias, Trier, Germany, prior to Mass

Depictions In Art

Compared with the other Apostles, including Judas, Saint Matthias is infrequently portrayed in works of art. His iconography is also less well-defined. For example, while keys are a sign of Saint Peter and seashells are a common attribute of Saint James, no single symbol has come to distinguish Saint Matthias in the visual shorthand of Christian art.

Veit Stoss and Saint Mary’s Altar

Veit Stoss’s magnificent Saint Mary’s Altar, located at the Basilica of Saint Mary in Krakow, Poland, includes one of the few depictions of Saint Matthias I’ve encountered. Carved in the late 15^th century, Saint Mary’s Altar is the largest gothic altar in the world, measuring approximately 11 m (36 ft) long and 13 m (42.65 ft) high.[12] The altar, or retable, is constructed as a pentaptych consisting of a large central cabinet and two pairs of wings: an inner pair that is hinged and can be used to close the cabinet, and an outer pair that is fixed.[13] The altar is further supported by a predella and is surmounted by a finial of carved baldachins spread between thinly carved pillars.[14]

Veit Stoss, Saint Mary’s Altar, Saint Mary’s Basilica, Krakow, Poland

According to multiple sources, the doors of the altar are ordinarily kept closed during the liturgical year and are only opened for important feasts.[15] On several recent visits to Krakow, however, I noted that the doors were generally opened for a few hours each day to allow visitor’s to view the central scene of Stoss’s masterpiece. The central scene of the open retable depicts two important events in the life of Mary – the Death of the Virgin (or Dormition) and the Assumption – while a variety of Biblical episodes are represented on the wings of the altar.[16]

The Dormition depicts a youthful Mary falling to her knees at the moment of her passing.[17] Unlike more traditional depictions of Mary’s passing (such as the one pictured below), Stoss’s Dormition purposely omits references to death or dying to emphasize the extraordinary nature of Mary’s passage from earthly life.[18] There is no deathbed in Stoss’s scene, although Mary continues to be surrounded by Apostles, including Saint Peter and Saint John.[19]

A traditional depiction of the Death of the Virgin (detail), Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany

Joos van Cleve, The Death of the Virgin (detail) (1520), Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany

In my opinion, in addition to Mary herself, three figures in particular stand out in Stoss’s portrayal of the Dormition. The first is Saint James.[20] Because of his central position and his dark, generous beard, the eye is naturally drawn to James, who stands above Mary, supporting her as she sinks to her knees. He is also one of the few figures that stares out towards to the viewer, seemingly making contact with the world outside the altar. The second is Saint John (pictured below), who stands to the right of Saint James, behind Mary.[21] John is holding a blue cloak or cape, which he is raising in an enigmatic gesture. Some suggest he is lifting it to his face to dry a tear while others argue he is extending it to Mary.[22] The third figure that stands out is purportedly Saint Matthias, whose unusual pose is noteworthy.[23]

Saint John (detail), from Saint Mary’s Altar

Like the representation of Saint James, the figure of Saint Matthias is also centrally located in the scene, although he is arranged even closer to the center of the composition. His position serves as a visual link between Mary and the saints of the Dormition, and the Assumption, which takes place in the sky above his head.[24] Matthias holds his hands outspread, his fingers interlaced, just above Mary’s head in a gesture some have described as one of protection.[25] To me, however, Matthias’s interlaced fingers are reminiscent of a crown, and his gesture is suggestive of a coronation. Matthias almost appears ready to place a crown on the kneeling Mary’s head. Could the arrangement have been intended to evoke Mary’s imminent coronation as Queen of Heaven?

It is interesting to speculate why Veit Stoss might have chosen to place Saint Matthias in so prominent a position on Saint Mary’s Altar. Alternatively, Saint Matthias may be the Apostle whose face, carved in profile, is just visible at the left of the composition. All twelve Apostles are present for Stoss’s Dormition, so Saint Matthias must be among them. In the absence of a clear pictorial tradition, however, identifying Matthias from among Stoss’s crowd of carved Apostles must remain a matter of conjecture. Nevertheless, as Rainer Kahsnitz notes in Carved Splendor: Late Gothic Altarpieces in Southern Germany, Austria, and South Tirol, “Presenting twelve apostles in a single scene—one or two of them young, the rest old and with flowing beards, was a notoriously difficult task for a Late Gothic artist. Only a very few carvers and painters proved themselves up to it.”[26] Of those, Veit Stoss may have been the best.

Interior of Saint Mary’s Basilica, Krakow, Poland, with Veit Stoss’s Saint Mary’s Altar in background

[1] Matthew 27:3 (King James Bible).

[2] Matthew 27:4.

[3] Matthew 27:5.

[4] Acts 1:18 (King James Bible).

[5] Acts 1:24-25.

[6] Acts 1:26.

[7] See “St. Matthias,” New Catholic Encyclopedia, available at http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/10066a.htm (providing a general overview of sources describing the ministry of Saint Matthias).

[8] Id. (citing Nicephorus, 2 Church History 40, in 1 Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers (Philip Schaff ed., Arthur Cushman McGiffert trans, 1890)).

[9] Id. (citing the The Synopsis of Dorotheus).

[10] Id. (citing Louis-Sébastien Le Nain de Tillemont, 1 Mémoire pour servir à l’histoire ecclésiastique des six premiers siècle 406-7).

[11] Id. (citing Jean Bolland, Acta Sanctorum, Maii, III (1680)).

[12] Krzysztof Czyzewski, Veit Stoss: Mary’s Altar 10 (Aleksander Ptak et. al, trans. 2007).

[13] See id. at 10-11.

[14] Id. at 11.

[15] See, e.g., Czyzewski, supra note 12, at 11; Teresa Czerniewicz-Umer, Eyewitness Travel: Cracow 96 (2010).

[16] The following scenes are depicted on the internal wings of the altar and are visible when the doors are open: the Annunciation, the Nativity, the Adoration of the Magi, the Resurrection, the Ascension, and Pentecost. The following scenes are visible when the doors of the altar are closed: the Meeting of Saint Anne and Saint Joachim, the Birth of the Virgin, the Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple, the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, Christ Among the Doctors, the Capture of Christ, the Crucifixion, the Lamentation, the Entombment, Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalene (Noli me tangere), the Three Marys at the Sepulcher, and the Descent into Hell.

[17] Czyzewski, supra note 12, at 12. In her travel guide to Krakow, Teresa Czerniewicz-Umer opines that the “figure of the youthful Mary is one of the greatest sculptures ever made in Poland.” Czerniewicz-Umer, supra note 15, at 97.

[18] Czyzewski, supra note 12, at 12. In Carved Splendor: Late Gothic Altarpieces in Southern Germany, Austria, and South Tirol, Rainer Kahsnitz states, “In accordance with legendary tradition going back more than five hundred years—the Gospels say nothing about the death of the Virgin—the standard Dormition shows the apostles, miraculously transported from their far-flung missions, convened around Mary’s deathbed . . . .” Rainer Kahsnitz, Carved Splendor: Late Gothic Altarpieces in Southern Germany, Austria, and South Tirol 137 (2006).

[19] Rainer notes that portrayals of Mary kneeling in prayer before her death was a form that “spread from Bohemia to southeast Germany, Austria, and adjacent territories in the late fourteenth century.” Rainer, supra note 19, at 137.

[20] Rainer identifies this figure as possibly being Saint Paul rather than Saint James. Id. at 139.

[21] Rainer identifies this figure as possibly being Saint Philip rather than Saint John. Id. at 140.

[22] See, e.g., Czyzewski, supra note 12, at 29 (featuring a caption reading “St. John raises the rim of his coat to dry a tear,” which accompanies a detail of The Dormition); Czerniewicz-Umer, supra note 15, at 97 (featuring a caption beneath a detail of Saint John stating “the saint is about to put a cape on the fainting Mary”).

[23] Rainer identifies this figure as possibly being Saint John rather than Saint Matthias. Rainer, supra note 19, at 139.

[24] In the Assumption, Christ and Mary are being raised to heaven by angels.

[25] Czyzewski, supra note 12, at 12 (noting that one of the Apostles “protects” Mary with his “hands above Her”).

[26] Rainer, supra note 19, at 140.

Charlemagne: Saint of the Holy Roman Empire?

02 Thursday May 2013

Posted by thereliquarian in Metal Reliquary

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Aachen, anti-pope, canonization, cathedral, Charlemagne, Germany, reliquary, Saint Martin, shrine

Pater Europae – Father of Europe

In her 2008 study of Charlemagne, Charlemagne: The Formation of a European Identity, Rosamond McKitterick observes, “Charlemagne, king of the Franks from 768 to 814, is one of the few major rulers in European history for whom there is an agreed stereotype.”[1] Celebrated as a mighty conqueror, a pious Christian ruler, and an enlightened patron of learning, Charlemagne is memorialized throughout Europe, particularly in the lands of his former empire. McKitterick notes, “Statues and paintings of Charlemagne abound in many of the cities of Europe, whether major capitals such as Paris or towns that have often long since lost their political pre-eminence.”[2] His likeness “graces the market place in Aachen . . . and the cathedrals of Bremen, Frankfurt and Halberstadt. He surveys the cities of Zurich, Dinant and Liège, and he sits astride his horse in front of Notre Dame in Paris.”[3] Reverence for Charlemagne is, perhaps, strongest in Aachen, Germany, where Charlemagne continues to be not only honored as the first Holy Roman Emperor but also venerated as a saint. But was Charlemagne, in fact, ever a saint?

Dome of Aachen Cathedral

Playing with the King of Hearts

Even those who have never seen a statue or painting of Charlemagne have probably encountered at least one portrait of the emperor before. Charlemagne is apparently the enigmatic King of Hearts in a deck of playing cards. Also known as the “suicide king” because he is commonly shown stabbing himself in the head with a sword, the King of Hearts may be a stylized representation of Charlemagne, but the visual depiction is flawed in at least one fundamental aspect: the King of Hearts has no moustache.

Throne of Charlemagne, Aachen Cathedral

Of the four kings represented in a deck of cards, only the King of Hearts sports a clean-shaven upper lip; however, as Professor Paul Freedmen has noted in his lectures on medieval history, the Carolingians, of whom Charlemagne was a member, were well-known for their moustaches.[4] More evidence militating against this interpretation can be found at Aachen, the former imperial capital. The famous reliquary bust of Charlemagne in the Treasury of Aachen Cathedral clearly portrays Charlemagne with a moustache, suggesting the King of Hearts cannot be the famous Holy Roman Emperor. Notably, Charlemagne also never stabbed himself in the head, another “fatal” flaw in the historical conceit linking the two royal heads.

Vita Karoli

How do we know what Charlemagne looked like? Einhard’s Vita Karoli, written sometime between 817 and 833, provides one of the earliest written descriptions of Charlemagne, including an account of his physical appearance. In the preface to his work, Einhard, a Frankish courtier and contemporary of Charlemagne, explained that he had committed the story of Charlemagne to writing so that “the most glorious life of this most excellent king, the greatest of all the princes of his day, and his illustrious deeds” should not become “wrapped in the darkness of oblivion.”[5] Elegantly written in Ciceronian Latin, Einhard’s biography has proven to be one of the most influential and enduring portraits of the ancient king.[6]

The High Altar of Aachen Cathedral

Part of Vita Karoli’s popularity may derive from its disarmingly honest depiction of Charlemagne. Einhard tells us, for example, that Charlemagne was “large and strong, and of lofty stature, though not disproportionately tall (his height is well known to have been seven times the length of his foot) . . . .”[7] Additionally, “the upper part of his head was round, his eyes very large and animated, nose a little long, hair fair, and face laughing and merry.”[8] His appearance was “always stately and dignified, whether he was standing or sitting, although his neck was thick and somewhat short, and his belly rather prominent.”[9] He enjoyed red meat, and his favorite book was Saint Augustine’s The City of God.[10]

As McKitterick explains, “The scholarly reaction to Einhard’s account has ranged from uncritical acceptance to outright rejection of its historical validity.”[11] Still, “as a reflection of perceptions of Charlemagne and knowledge available about him at the time Einhard wrote, . . . it is immensely valuable.”[12]

The Canonization of Saints

While Einhard’s admiration for Charlemagne is evident in his writing, Einhard never referred to Charlemagne, either figuratively or literally, as a saint. From the Vita Karoli we learn that Charlemagne died on 28 January 814 at the age of seventy and that he was buried on the same day. Because Charlemagne never indicated where he wanted to be laid to rest, confusion arose as to where he should be buried. Eventually, “all agreed that he could nowhere be more honorably entombed than in the very basilica that he had built in the town [of Aachen] at his own expense.”[13]

Arm Reliquary of Charlemagne

A local cultus eventually developed around the storied king; however, only the Church could officially recognize the beatification or canonization of individuals. As Monsignor P. E. Hallett explains in his study on canonization, the Church constantly “had to guard against the extravagant and unauthorized devotion of the people.”[14] Indeed, Charlemagne himself was the author of a synodal law designed to check the arbitrary veneration of alleged saints.[15] The law, which prohibited the public veneration of new saints without the official sanction of the local bishop, was intended to prevent the type of mistake Saint Martin of Tours once encountered in his diocese.[16]

According to the legend, the people of Tours highly honored a shrine believed to be the tomb of a martyr. Saint Martin, however, had his doubts. As Rev. Alban Butler explains, “The place was much reverenced by the people; but St. Martin, who was not over credulous, would not go thither to pray, not hearing any assured account of the relics. He asked the eldest of the clergy what they knew of them, and not receiving satisfaction, he went one day to the place with some of his brethren, and, standing over the tomb, besought God to show him who was buried there. Then turning to the left he saw near him a pale ghost of a fierce aspect, whom he commanded to speak. The ghost told his name, and it appeared that he had been a robber who was executed for his crimes, whom the people had honoured as a martyr. None but St. Martin saw him; the rest only heard his voice. He thereupon caused the altar to be removed; and freed the people from this superstition.”[17]

Until the 12^th century, local bishops could beatify individuals by permitting public cultus, that is, the “erection of altars, the celebration of feasts, the offering of Holy Mass in their honour within the limits of their diocese.”[18] Today, however, only those whose cultus has been accepted, either expressly or tacitly, by the Holy See are considered beatified, and only those whose cultus has been extended to the Universal Church are considered canonized saints.[19]

Saint Charlemagne?

The cultus of Charlemagne provides an illuminating example of this system of recognition. Three and a half centuries after his death, in 1165, Charlemagne was canonized by the anti-pope Paschal III.[20] The Catholic Church never officially recognized Paschal III’s canonization of the Carolingian emperor, however,[21] and in fact, all of Paschal III’s pronouncements were eventually abrogated in 1179 by the Third Lateran Council.[22] This wholesale repudiation of Paschal III and his decisions would presumably have included his canonization of Charlemagne.[23]

View of Organ, Aachen Cathedral

Despite the rejection of Charlemagne’s canonization, a local cultus that had developed around the emperor persisted and spread to parts of Germany, Belgium, and France.[24] No subsequent pope protested the cultus, so it endured for several centuries with the tacit permission of Rome.[25] In the 18^th century, Pope Benedict XIV confirmed the cultus, though apparently not as an official papal act.[26] Ultimately, because the cultus continued to exist with the permission of the Church, Charlemagne is considered beatified.[27] Charlemagne, therefore, can be referred to as Blessed Charlemagne; however, he is not Saint Charlemagne.[28]

The Shrine of Charlemagne at Aachen

Charlemagne is believed to have been initially buried in a marble sarcophagus from the 3^rd century.[29] His body was later transferred to a more ornate and impressive golden shrine commissioned by Emperor Frederick II in the late 12^th century.[30] The shrine, which is sometimes referred to as a reliquary, was created between 1182 and 1215.[31] The “Concise Guide to Aachen Cathedral,” a tourist pamphlet available for purchase at Aachen, states that Charlemagne’s bones have been housed in the shrine since 1215.[32] It further notes that the “Emperor’s bones are surrounded by sixteen of his successors” depicted on the shrine, and “Charlemagne himself sits at the end wall below Christ giving a blessing, flanked by Pope Leo III and Archbishop Turpin of Reims.”[33]

Shrine of Charlemagne

On the day we visited the cathedral, the guide who led our tour stated the sixteen kings represented on the shrine were included instead of saints because Charlemagne’s status as a saint was uncertain. From afar, the royal figures have the aspects of saints, but on closer inspection, they wear crowns rather than mitre or halos, and they hold symbols of secular power rather than instruments of martyrdom.

[1] Rosamond McKitterick, Charlemagne: The Formation of a European Identity 1 (2008).

[2] Id. at 3.

[3] Id.

[4] Paul H. Freedman, Charlemagne, Class Lecture for The Early Middle Ages, 284-1000 at Yale University (Nov. 9, 2011). Professor Freedman contrasts the short hair and moustaches of the Carolingians with the long hair and beards of their rivals, the Merovingians. Freedman states, “one of the symbols of Merovingian familial prestige was this long hair. But Carolingians had short hair and wore mustaches. They kind of broke with the Merovingian look. But of course, this is not just a male fashion statement.”

[5] Einhard: The Life of Charlemagne (Samuel Epes Turner trans., Harper & Brothers 1880), available at http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/einhard.asp#EINHARD’S%20PREFACE.

[6] See, e.g., McKitterick, supra note 1, at 7.

[7] Einhard: The Life of Charlemagne, supra note 5.

[8] Id.

[9] Id.

[10] Id.

[11] McKitterick, supra note 1, at 7 (citation omitted).

[12] Id.

[13] Einhard: The Life of Charlemagne, supra note 5.

[14] P.E. Hallet, The Canonization of Saints (1952), available at http://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/canonize.htm.

[15] Id.

[16] See id.

[17] Alban Butler, 9 Lives of the Saints (1866), available at http://www.bartleby.com/210/11/111.html.

[18] Hallet, supra note 15.

[19] Id.

[20] Id. By canonizing Charlemagne, Paschal III hoped to gain the support of the emperor, Frederick Barbarossa, in his struggle against the legitimate pope, Alexander III. Id.

[21] Id. Inexplicably, McKitterick erroneously avers that Pope Alexander III, not Paschal III, canonized Charlemagne in 1165. McKitterick, supra note 1, at 2 (citing R.Folz, Etudes sur le liturgique de Charlemagne dans les églises de l’empire (1951)). She writes, “A liturgical feast in honour of St Charlemagne was actually instituted in 1165 when Pope Alexander III canonized him and a cult of Charlemagne spread across western Europe. Id.

[22] William Beckett, 1 A Universal Biography 116 (1834).

[23] See id.

[24] Hallet, supra note 15.

[25] Id.

[26] See id. Hallet notes that Pope Benedict XIV confirmed the cultus “writing as a private theologian, not officially as Pope.” Id.

[27] Id.; Benedictine Monks of St. Augustine’s Abbey, The Book of the Saints 62 (photo. reprint 2003) (1921). In Hallet’s words, “In virtue then of this toleration, and not of course in virtue of the act of the anti-pope, which was null and void, it has been held . . . that he is to be considered as beatified.” Hallet, supra note 15.

[28] See Benedictine Monks of St. Augustine’s Abbey, supra note 27, at 62. The Book of the Saints lists Charlemagne as beatified though not canonized, noting that “in some churches” he has been “honoured as a Saint.” Id.

[29] See, e.g., McKitterick, supra note 1, at 3.

[30] See id.; Dom Schatz Kammer Aachen, “Concise Guide to Aachen Cathedral.”

[31] Dom Schatz Kammer Aachen.

[32] Id.

[33] Id.

Saint Theodore: Warrior Saint and Dragon-Slayer

23 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by thereliquarian in Sculpture

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basilica, dragon, Italy, relic, reliquary, Saint George, Saint Mark, Saint Theodore, Venice

Saint Theodore Arrives in Venice

He arrived in Venice from the East in pieces: a torso and cuirass, a disembodied head, a crocodile. The Sack of Constantinople in 1204 had devastated the city, but the Venetians, who had transported the army of the Fourth Crusade to Constantinople, managed to salvage an enormous horde of objects from the captured city. The Venetians systematically shipped these objects – statues, jeweled reliquaries, architectural columns, and marble pediments – back to Venice. Among the crates were several fragments of statuary that, when recombined, would become a statue of Saint Theodore, the great warrior-saint, dragon-slayer, and a patron saint of Venice.

Saint Theodore of Amasea

Saint Theodore of Amasea was a Roman recruit martyred in the early 4^th century for professing his faith in Christianity. As a new recruit, he is also known as Saint Theodore Tiro, tiro meaning “recruit” in Latin.[1] Saint Theodore of Amasea is often confused with another Theodore – Saint Theodore of Stratelates, a Roman general – although most scholars believe the two Theodores were probably the same person.[2] Butler’s Lives of the Saints notes that the stories relating to Saint Theodore of Amasea “cannot be relied on,” although they probably refer to “a real martyr who may or may not have been a soldier.”[3] Butler’s Lives of the Saints continues, “So complicated and contradictory did his story become that, in order to make it less inconsistent, a second soldier St Theodore had to be posited and so we have the St Theodore Stratelates of February 7.”[4] Saint Theodore of Amasea’s feast day is November 9.

The first known mention of Saint Theodore of Amasea derives from a panegyric delivered by Saint Gregory of Nyssa near Saint Theodore’s tomb in Euchaita, modern-day Turkey.[5] According to various legends, when Saint Theodore refused to offer sacrifices to the Roman gods along with his legion he was brought before the governor of the province to explain himself. He declared himself to be a Christian, and when asked why he would profess faith in an outlawed religion, the worship of which was a capital offense, he responded, “I know not your gods. Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, is my God.”[6] He was dismissed and, according to some sources, went into the city of Amasea near the Iris River and burned down the temple of Cybele.[7] Not surprisingly, he was captured and was again brought before the Roman authorities who questioned and cajoled him, and then tortured him.[8] When he was returned to his prison cell, he was comforted by visions of angels.[9] Eventually, he was condemned to death and was burned alive in a furnace.[10]

Here Be Dragons

Notably absent from these stories is any mention of dragons or dragon slaying. Why, then, is Saint Theodore frequently depicted slaying a dragon? Saint Theodore’s identification as an heroic dragon-slayer may be related to the belief that by his intercession “devils were expelled and distempers cured.”[11] In The Dragon in Medieval East Christian and Islamic Art, Sara Kuehn suggests that the belief in Saint Theodore’s power to vanquish evil probably inspired the dragon-slaying motif.[12] Kuehn writes, “Dragon-slaying riders were progressively identified as warrior saints and can conclusively be interpreted as exercising an apotropaic or protective function.”[13]

St. Michael and Dragon, Minster of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany

In early Christian art, Saint Theodore is often depicted with fellow dragon-slayer Saint George, although portrayals of Saint Theodore slaying a dragon predate those of his more famous companion. Kuehn states, “Among the military saints Theodore and George were predominantly associated with the miracle of dragon-slaying and often appear together. In the hagiographical tradition, Saint Theodore clearly preceded Saint George in the role of dragon-slayer.”[14] Early references to Saint Theodore slaying a dragon can be traced to the late 9^th century[15] while the earliest known depiction of Saint George smiting a dragon is from the early 11^th century.[16] Before then, Saint George was sometimes shown killing a man rather than a dragon.[17] Other saints frequently depicted with dragons include Saint Margaret, Saint Martha, Saint Sylvester, the Apostle Philip, and the Archangel Michael (pictured in the carved sculpture, above, located at the Minster of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany).[18]

Saint George and the Dragon

Incidentally, the celebrated story of how Saint George vanquished a dragon and rescued a princess was likely a later embellishment to the legend of Saint George the martyr – and one that clearly captured the imagination of subsequent generations. Most famously told in the Legenda Aurea (Golden Legend), Saint George was a Christian knight born in Cappadocia who, while out riding in the province of Lybia, arrived at the city of Sylene. The city’s inhabitants were being terrorized by a terrible dragon, which they attempted to appease by providing two sheep every day. When the inhabitants ran out of sheep, they substituted a human victim, who was selected by lot. On the day of Saint George’s arrival, the king’s daughter had been selected to serve as the sacrifice. Saint George ultimately rescued the princess, but before he would slay the dragon, the saint elicited the people’s promise to convert to Christianity. This they promised, and once the dragon was killed, four oxcarts were needed to dispose of its carcass.[19]

Heroic Landscape with St George, Joseph Anton Koch (1807). Alte Pinakothek, Munich, German.

Joseph Anton Koch, Heroic Landscape with St. George (detail) (1807). Alte Pinakothek, Munich, German.

Butler’s Lives of the Saints observes that “the story of the dragon, though given so much prominence, was a later accretion of which we have no sure traces before the twelfth century.”[20] The authors further comment, “There is every reason to believe that St George was a real martyr who suffered at Diospolis (i.e. Lydda) in Palestine, probably before the time of Constantine. Beyond this there seems to be nothing which can be affirmed with any confidence.”[21] Although Saint George is not mentioned in the Syriac Breviarium, he is mentioned in the Heironymianum, and various pilgrims of the 6^th to 8^th century identified Lydda or Diospolis as the site of his relics.[22]

Arm Reliquaries, Basilica of Saint Mark

Coincidentally, the arm of Saint George was apparently one of four important relics taken from Constantinople to Venice following the sack of the city in 1204.[23] Located today in the Treasury of Saint Mark’s Basilica, the Reliquary of the Arm of Saint George (pictured above, in the right foreground) features an unusual cone-shaped exterior, oval in cross-section, of silver gilt and enamel and a glass lid topped with a figure of Saint George on horseback spearing a dragon.[24]

Reliquary of the Arm of St. George (detail of lid)

A plaque on the lowest part of the reliquary case, above the stems and leaves that form the base, reads in reserve against niello, “ISTVT · EST · BRAC/HIVM · GLORIOXIS/IMI · MARTIRIS S/ANCTI · GEORGEII” (“This is the arm of the most glorious martyr, Saint George”).[25] This exterior, of Venetian design, dates to before 1325.[26] The outer reliquary holds an earlier Byzantine reliquary made of silver that dates to before 1204.[27] While the dragon is likely original, the equestrian figure of Saint George is probably more modern, dating to the 16^th century.[28] According to some sources, Saint George became Venice’s third patron saint – after Saints Mark and Theodore – sometime following the translation of his arm to the city.[29]

Reliquary of the Arm of St. George (plaque in reserve against niello)

He Came in Pieces

As noted above, the statue of Saint Theodore arrived in Venice in various pieces, although the pieces were not, in fact, part of a single, unified work. Edward Hollis, who writes about the evolution and transformation of buildings over time in The Secret Life of Buildings, explains how the Venetians recombined disparate sculptural fragments pilfered from Constantinople to create a single, monumental statute of their patron saint.[30]

Saint Theodore in Saint Mark's Square After the Venetians left Constantinople, some of the treasures they had appropriated were lost at sea and some were sold along the journey, but most of the objects arrived safely in Venice, where they were unloaded and unpacked at the Arsenale.[31] After they were evaluated by various officials, they were eventually repurposed to enhance the beauty, status, and prestige of La Serenissima. For example, building material and other decorative ornaments stripped from the churches of Constantinople were used to clothe the basilica of Saint Mark “in the borrowed raiment of vanished sanctuaries” so that “what had been an austere brick structure soon shone, and sparkled, and flashed in the sun.”[32]

Hollis explains that a centurion’s cuirass, a crocodile, and a disembodied head “became the body of Saint Theodore.”[33] Similarly, a pair of brazen angel’s wings and a lion were “welded together to make the emblem of Saint Mark.”[34] Both of these new creations were hoisted atop a pair of Numidian granite columns, also taken from Constantinople, and set in Saint Mark’s Square.[35] The two statutes, symbolizing two patron saints of Venice, remain in the square to this day.[36]

Antonio Canaletto, Piazzetta in Venice. Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany.

[1] 4 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 302, 301-303 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956). Alternatively, Butler’s Lives of the Saints suggests that the surname Tiro more probably derives from his membership in the Cohors tironum. Id.

[2] See, e.g., id.; Rosa Giorgi, Saints in Art 345 (Stefano Zuffi ed. & Thomas Michael Hartmann trans., 2002) (“Beginning in the tenth century, Theodore split into two figures in popular devotion, a general and a soldier that were really the same person.”).

[3] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[4] Id.

[5] See, e.g., id. at 301.

[6] Id. at 302.

[7] See, e.g., Giorgi, supra note 1, at 345; Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[8] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[9] See, e.g., Giorgi, supra note 1, at 345; Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[10] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302

[11] Id. (citing the panegyric attributed to Saint Gregory of Nyssa).

[12] See Sara Kuehn, The Dragon in Medieval East Christian and Islamic Art 109 (2011).

[13] Id.

[14] Id. at 108.

[15] Id. at 108 n.215 (“His exploit of vanquishing a dragon with a spear only appeared in the second state of his Passio Prima (dated 890) . . . .”). Kuehn also notes that the 7^th century Passion of Marina of Antioch contains “antecedents” of Saint Theodore’s dragon-slaying. Id.

[16] Id. at 108 n.216. Kuehn identifies the church of Saint Barbara at Soganli as possessing the earliest identifiable portrayal of Saint George vanquishing a dragon. Id.

[17] Id. at 108.

[18] See, e.g., George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art 16 (1954).

[19] See 2 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 148-50 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956).

[20] Id. at 149.

[21] Id.

[22] Id. at 150.

[23] See, e.g. Treasures of Heaven: Saints, Relics, and Devotion in Medieval Europe 92 (Martina Bagnoli et al., eds., 2010). The other three important relics were a relic of the Holy Blood, a piece of the True Cross, and the head of Saint John the Baptist. Id.

[24] Id. The lid was originally made of rock crystal. Id.

[25] William D. Wixsom, Western Metalwork, in The Treasury of San Marco Venice 282 (David Buxton ed., 1984).

[26] Treasures of Heaven, supra note 23, at 92.

[27] Id.

[28] Wixsom, supra note 25, at 282. Wixsom writes, “The horse and rider are probably directly based on Leonardo’s designs for the Sforza and Trivulzio monuments, dating respectively 1485-93 and 1506-13, even though the theme of a rearing horse goes back to the early Florentine Renaissance sculptor, Bertoldo (1420-91), to Paduan bronzes dating around 1510, and to ancient bronzes.” Id. (citations omitted).

[29] See, e.g., id.; Treasures of Heaven, supra note 23, at 92.

[30] See Edward Hollis, The Secret Lives of Buildings (2009).

[31] Id. at 55.

[32] Id.

[33] Id.

[34] Id.

[35] Id.

[36] The statute of Saint Theodore in Saint Mark’s Square, however, is a replica. The original is now located in the Doge’s Palace. A sign next to statue states that the marble statue “is a fourteenth-century sculpture with an ancient armoured bust and a young man’s head of different origins. . . . According to tradition, the saint’s face is a portrait of Mithradates of Pontus.”

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