Medieval Mosaics

Mosaic art—arranging pieces of stone, glass (called tesserae), or other material to make shapes and pictures—has existed since the 3rd millennium BCE, when pebbles were used to make floors with designs. They became widespread in ancient Greece and Rome, not just as public art but for domestic use: every household would be enhanced by mosaics on the floors (not usually on the walls, where fresco was used for decoration).

The earliest mosaics, found in a temple in Mesopotamia, were roughly cube-shaped bits of stone, along with pieces of shell and ivory. Around 1500 BCE we start to see evidence of glazed tiles being used. Rome and Greece elevated mosaic use to a high art (although most named mosaic artists in the Roman Empire have Greek names).

The Middle Ages chose brightly colored glass and gold leaf to make mosaics. When Ravenna became the capital of the Western Roman Empire, it became the site of several magnificent buildings with equally impressive mosaics. When the Lombards were problematic, Pope Adrian I turned to Charlemagne for aid. For Charlemagne's reward, he was allowed to take away from Ravenna anything he wanted. What he wanted was Roman art and architecture, so a number of Roman columns, statues, and mosaics traveled north to become a part of his complex at Aachen.

Taking and re-using older architecture and artwork was actually a recognized practice, and the elements were called spolia, from the Latin for "spoils." An example of spolia in Aachen is the porphyry columns in the Palatine Chapel which likely came from Ravenna. Charlemagne must have liked what he saw in Ravenna, because his Palatine Chapel's design is very similar to the church of San Vitale in Ravenna. The Palatine's ceiling and walls are covered in mosaic that is clearly Byzantine in style (see the illustration).

As the 13th century approached, mosaicists were also painters. One of the best known now (in the Modern Age) was Giotto, whom we'll talk about next time.

Paolo and Francesca

In the 2nd circle of Hell in Dante's Inferno, Dante and Virgil see two lovers, Paolo and Francesca, condemned for lust (see the illustration by Dante Gabriel Rossetti). Just as they allowed themselves to be swept away by their passions, they are buffeted by heavy winds. Francesca tells her story, while a silent Paolo weeps in the background.

She was seized with a powerful passion while reading the story of Galehaut (mentioned in yesterday's post). the theme of such a strong love "overpowered" the two. Unfortunately, she was married to Paolo's brother, who killed the two for their affair.

The two were historical figures: Francesca da Polenta, married to Giovanni Malatesta, and Giovanni's brother Paolo Malatesta (who was also married). The marriage was not one of love. Francesca's father was at odds with Giovanni's father, who was lord of Rimini. The marriage was designed to make peace between two noble and powerful families. Some time in the early 1280s, Giovanni found the two in Francesca's bedroom, and killed them.

In Dante's telling, Francesca blames the overwhelming power of Love for her actions and misfortune, accepting no blame on the part of the two lovers. Despite this, she becomes for Dante an example of the love poetry he himself wrote about earlier in his career. She tells her story without interruption, and becomes a symbol of a strong woman condemned by circumstance outside her control, because of the power of the story of Galehaut. Dante draws a parallel between the great love tale from literature and the real love tale before him.

So now we come to the point of what we started yesterday: why did Boccaccio subtitle his Decameron with Prencipe Galehaut? Boccaccio uses Galehaut—especially through the lens of his hero Dante's use of Galehaut as inspiration for Francesca's and Paolo's actions—as a symbol of his regard and compassion for women who have never been allowed the freedom of men to do as they wished. It is his acknowledgement that women should be given agency: as the women in the Decameron not only share equal social standing with the men in their ten-day community, but also in the stories told of women who manage by their wits or gain the outcomes they want.

If they were historical figures, was their affair so well-known that Dante would know the details? As it happens, remember that I told you here that he spent his final years in Ravenna? His host was Guido Novello, also known as Guido Il da Polenta, lord of Ravenna from 1316 to 1321, and the nephew of Francesca da Polenta!

Ravenna must be a little interesting, since Dante chose it for his retirement. Let's learn the delights of Ravenna next time.

The Donation of Pepin

The idea of actual Papal States giving the pope serious temporal power really took off in 756 when Pepin the Short, king of the Franks, gave to Pope Stephen II several territories and towns in the Italian peninsula.

To be fair, the territories were not Pepin's to give, not originally anyway. They were under control of Aistulf, king of the Lombards. A few years earlier, in 751, Aistulf conquered the exarchate of Ravenna. The exarchate of Ravenna was the last piece of Italy considered to be part of the Roman Empire, having been established by Byzantine Emperor Justinian as part of his plan to administer the western part of the fading empire.

Aistulf decided that his conquest of Ravenna and killing of the last ruler of it, the exarch Eutychius, meant he was now the nearest thing to a Roman Emperor. He therefore demanded that Rome itself submit to him and send him a tribute of one gold solidus per person.

Pope Stephen II could not negotiate with Aistulf to back down, so he sent a request to Pepin to come to his aid. The Franks and Lombards were on friendly terms, so Stephen thought Pepin would have better luck. Pepin promised the pope he would arrange the return of the Exarchate of Ravenna. The pope in return anointed Pepin and his sons Charles (Charlemagne) and Carloman as kings of the Franks (they did not need this to be kings, but it was a nice piece of recognition from a figure who was seen as the head of the Christian faith). He also named them patricians of the Romans, an honorary title suggesting they were Roman elite. The pope also pronounced a blessing on Pepin's wife, Bertrada.

So Pepin took his army to Lombardy, surrounded Aistulf's forces, defeated any military opposition, and made Aistulf promise to return Ravenna. A treaty was signed, Pepin turned around to go home, and once he had left Lombardy, Aistulf ignored the treaty. Aistulf besieged Rome. Word went to Pepin. The Frankish army came and forced Aistulf to abandon the siege.

So more than Ravenna became part of the Papal states, because Pepin turned over Lombardy as well and several other cities. Emissaries of the Roman Empire entreated Pepin to give the land to the political empire, not the spiritual papacy, but Pepin would not. The pope would now be a temporal ruler for centuries to come.

You may have heard that there was an earlier gift of land to the pope, called the Donation of Constantine. We will talk about this hoax tomorrow.

The Pallium

Tertullian in 220 CE wrote De Pallio ("Concerning the Pallium"), in which he talks about clothing fashion in different countries. The pallium here is not specifically religious. Pope Marcus in 336 conferred it on Bishop of Ostia, and Pope Symmachus did the same in 513 for Cæsarius of Arles. It was Boniface who insisted that it be conferred on metropolitan archbishops (archbishops who oversee a metropolis; some have the title but not their own archbishopric). The Archbishops of Canterbury were invested with the pallium, which is why Sigeric made that journey to Rome using the itinerary that has been preserved. Some popes did start charging for the pallium , enriching the coffers of the Vatican. The Council of Basel in 1432 condemned it, and the practice eventually ended.

But what is it, specifically regarding the papal garment? From the Latin palla, "woolen cloak," it is currently a band of wool that wraps around a certain way for ceremonial occasions. It used to be longer, hanging lower, but has shortened over time. Mosaics at Ravenna and Rome show the pallium looking as it did centuries ago. In current practice, a pallium is blessed by Pope Francis on the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, but it will not be conferred then on a metropolitan archbishop: he shall receive it from the papal nuncio in his home diocese.

You may imagine that pallia are not bought at your corner ecclesiastical garment shop. It is made from the lambs who are presented by nuns of the convent of St. Agnes (a minor basilican in Rome). The wool is woven into the pallia by nuns of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere.

The significance of a garment of lambs wool draped over the shoulders of the pope may have originated with the pastoral image of a shepherd carrying a lamb draped over his shoulders. The popes are shepherds of their flock, etc.

Cæsarius of Arles was a pretty interesting character. He considered women the "gems of the Church." Unfortunately, like precious gems, he felt they should be locked away for safekeeping. I'll explain more in the next post.

A Well-placed German Pope

Gebhard, the Count of Calw, was born about 1018 into an illustrious family. Holy Roman Emperor Henry III (1017 - 1056) recognized him as a kinsman. Despite some hesitation, he was named bishop of Eichstätt at a mere 24 years of age; he proved to be a good bishop and decent statesman.

He was present at the Easter synod of Pope Leo IX in 1049, in which Leo soundly condemned simony and the "wasteful" marriage of priests. Gebhard was respected by, and present for the meetings of, both the pope and the emperor. In fact, he was possibly the most respected advisor to Henry III. When Henry was sending part of the army to aid Pope Leo IX in his trouble with Normans, it was recalled on Gebhard's advice (Gebhard, when pope himself, regretted this decision).

When Leo died in April 1054, a Roman legation came to Henry, requesting that Gebhard be made pope. Gebhard initially resisted, but finally agreed on the condition that the emperor restore to the papacy the properties that had been taken from it by the emperor. Henry agreed—since Gebhard was a pope he could trust—and Gebhard became Pope Victor II on 13 April 1055.

Pope Victor ruled only two years, but his close connection with the emperor made him an enormously powerful pope. In June of 1055 he reaffirmed Leo's condemnations of simony and clerical marriage, and deposed several bishops who had previously resisted correction. Victor threatened to excommunicate King Ferdinand of Spain if he did not recognize Henry as Holy Roman Emperor; Ferdinand relented. Henry repaid him by giving to the pope the duchies of Spoleto and Camerino.

Victor was with Henry when he died, on 5 October 1056, and accepted from Henry the regency for Henry's young son, the six-year-old Henry IV (who might have saved himself some trouble had he grown up and stayed on the good side of the papacy). Victor had the opportunity to rule the Holy Roman Empire as regent for the child emperor!

Alas, he wasn't able to guide the young heir to power or himself to greater power. He died himself on 28 July 1057. While attendants carried his body back to Eichstätt for burial (although pope, he had never given up the bishopric of Eichstätt), zealous Italians snatched the remains and had them buried Ravenna.

Chapel of Aachen

Charlemagne put serious effort into making his reign reminiscent of the grandeur that was the Roman Empire. He gathered scholars and artists from all over Europe, including Alcuin and Joseph Scottus and Paulus Diaconus and many others. Nothing was too advanced or grand to be attempted and supported. When it came to building a palace complex worthy of his dreams, in western Germany, in the city of Aachen, he called on Odo of Metz (742-814).

Floor Plan of Chapel of Aachen

All we really know of Odo is his name, mentioned in two places: by Charlemagne's contemporary biographer, and in an inscription around the dome of the Palatine Chapel he built that is the only part of the palace complex that remains. Now incorporated into the Cathedral of Aachen, it was designed after the still-standing basilica of San Vitale in Ravenna, Italy. San Vitale was built in the Byzantine style, and the Palatine Chapel in Germany has a very Byzantine feel: an octagonal shape, marble floor, striped arches and golden mosaics.

The Chapel was also an important repository for holy relics, which are still preserved in the Aachen Cathedral:

• the cloak of the Blessed Virgin;
• the swaddling-clothes of the Infant Jesus;
• the loin-cloth worn by Christ on the Cross;
• the cloth on which lay the head of St. John the Baptist after his beheading.*

...and the remains of Charlemagne himself.

The Chapel of Aachen became a point of controversy in the 20th century, however, for reasons no one could have foreseen during its construction. Its advanced construction—the high rounded arches, the height of the dome—are not seen again until the development of Romanesque architecture in the 11th century. Most historians attribute this to the skill of Odo of Metz. A German art historian, however, thinks it is evidence of one of the greatest conspiracy theories in the history of the world. I'll tell you about it tomorrow.

*These relics are shown every 7 years; next showing is in 2014. Make your travel plans now! (And hope the Lufthansa strike ends soon; right, Lois?)