Solved: the Origin of Images of a Lombard King

Tags

Charlemagne, Desiderius, Historical Fiction, Lombards

When I first encountered these illustrations of 8th century Lombard King Desiderius and his world, I wondered where they came from.

Oh, I knew they weren’t historically accurate, but I gave up on that when I started blogging in 2011. Blog posts are better when they have images. They add interest to the text and help when writers are promoting their work on social media.

My problem as a 21st-century author: 8th century artists were more interested in saints and other religious figures. Even contemporary images of Charlemagne are hard to find. Since then, artists have been more interested in the story they’re trying to tell than being true to the facts. The one who created these images is no exception.

These images appeared to be from the 19th century, and it turns out I was right. Thanks to Wikimedia Commons, I finally know their origin. They are indeed illustrations for Alessandro Manzoni’s 1822 tragedy Adelchi (which also take liberties with the facts). The book they appear in was published in 1845. Here is one of the full pages, via Wikimedia Commons, with all its lovely flourishes.

I felt a thrill as I (virtually) turned the pages and beheld the images. At least one mystery was laid to rest.

An Everyday Hero in the Dark Ages

Tags

Carolingian, Dark Ages, Franks, Medieval Agriculture, Medieval Farm, Salzburg manuscript

This 9th century manuscript page from Salzburg is a gem. It provides one of the rare glimpses of life of a common person—someone who wasn’t a royal, aristocrat, or saint.

We see what a peasant wore, a few of the implements he used, and what he did on the land throughout the year. The month-by-month tasks are specific to Salzburg. The Carolingian realm was vast, encompassing Utrecht in the north and Avignon in the south, stretching from beyond the Enns River in the east to the Atlantic in the west. The soil might be workable in Arles but still frozen in Cologne.

Still, a 21st century viewer gets to see everyday concerns from long ago, outside religion and war.

The unnamed character in this manuscript doesn’t fit the classic definition of a hero, a warrior killing the enemy. Nor is he a martyr, a self-sacrificing hero for the Church.

But he and countless others like him are heroes. They were the ones who got the earth to yield crops to feed families, cut hay so animals could eat through winter, tended vines and made wine, and slaughtered livestock as the ground froze.

Even though many of us don’t make our livelihood from today’s high-tech agriculture, one thing remains the same: we depend on farmers’ handiwork for our survival.

Yes, ‘Barbarians’ Did Have Art

Tags

Dark Ages, Frescoes, medieval, Middle Ages, Murals, The Cross and the Dragon

Several years ago, a then-critique partner commented on my reference to a mural in an early medieval building in The Cross and the Dragon—something like, “Weren’t they barbarians? How could they have art?”

Justice and warfare in eighth century Europe fits my modern-day definition of barbaric. Despite that grim reality, the need for art and beauty transcends time and geography. Cultures lacking our scientific knowledge and technology will display their creativity and skill, even in everyday objects like a clay pot or woven basket.

The Dark Ages was no exception to the yearning for art. In fact the Franks, so-called barbarians, had many attributes of a civilized society: poets, scholars, theologians, doctors and midwives, books and music, skilled craftsmen, and artists. Most of that without the benefit of a textbook.

So I’ve come to a couple of conclusions:

1. A long-ago society can still be civilized, even when it lacks some of our 21st century standards.
2. To assume a society was bereft of art denies its people their humanity.

For more about a particular early medieval art form, see my post about Carolingian frescoes on Unusual Historicals.

A fresco of the flight into Egypt, circa 825, Monastery Church of Saint John in Müstair, Switzerland (public domain, Wikimedia Commons)

Help Wanted: In Search of the Perfect Picture

Tags

medieval, Middle Ages, Web Presence

If you’ve visited my website (kimrendfeld.com), you will notice a new look. The idea behind the new WordPress theme is that it’s easier to read on all devices, whether they are laptop, tablet, or cell phone.

Just one problem: Alphonse Mucha’s Heraldic Chivalry, which I’ve used in the banner for this blog and my Facebook and Twitter pages, won’t work on my website. In the header field, any text upon it is illegible, and much of the picture is hidden when used as a tiled background image. The painting itself is dark, and I would like something brighter.

The background image now on my website is a photo I shot of flowers near Christy Woods on the Ball State campus. The yellows and greens work well with the book covers, but photo doesn’t say medieval.

So I am in search of another image, one that will work well on my website and my social media sites. I aiming for something that is in the public domain and will work in horizontal and vertical formats. And here, dear readers, is where I turn to you.

I’ve been searching through Carolingian manuscripts via Wikimedia Commons and like these two images.

Frontpiece for the Book of Genesis

Morgan Library Lindau Gospels

The first image is definitely medieval, but is the second too abstract? Will people not associate it with the Middle Ages?

Instead, should I use a cropped version (sans house that looks like a dancing mushroom) of this 14th century image of a man and woman and tile the rose motif?

From the Manesse Codex

Or should I use this detail from a 16th century piece?

From Saint Dominic

Any suggestions? I would love to hear from you.

All images public domain, viz Wikimedia Commons.

Queen Bertrada: Mother of a Dynasty

Tags

bertrada, Charlemagne, medieval, Middle Ages

Bertha Broadfoot, 1848, by Eugène Oudiné at Luxembourg Garden, Paris (copyrighted photo by Marie-Lan Nguyen via Wikimedia Commons).

Eugène Oudiné’s 1848 statue of Bertrada is one of my favorite artistic interpretations of this Frankish queen. Not for its historical accuracy. Other than the nickname “Bertha Broadfoot,” we have no clue for what she looked like, and the costume is not eighth century.

The reason I like it is for what she is holding in her left hand, the figure of a man on a throne. Whether he is her husband, Pepin the Short, or her son Charles the Great, it is fitting for her.

Although being able to bear a son preserved her marriage to then Mayor of the Palace Pepin, she did more than baby making. She was Pepin’s true partner when he assumed the title of king in 750 and played that role until he died in 768, dividing his kingdom between his two surviving sons. Pepin, in turn, had been a steadfast husband. His only children were born within his marriage.

As queen mother, Bertrada had a new challenge: prevent the tensions between her sons, ages 17 and 20, from turning into civil war. Read more on Unusual Historicals about how Bertrada was a female pioneer.

Lombard Sculptures Provide Clues to the Past

Tags

Lombard Temple, Lombards, medieval, Middle Ages, Sculpture

From Wikimedia Commons

While looking for artwork to accompany a future post about Charlemagne’s second wife, I came across this photo of stucco sculptures in the Lombard Temple (associated with the Santa Maria in Vallee Monastery) in Fruili, Italy. None of these women is the Lombard princess Frankish King Charles repudiated. Instead, they represent holy martyrs.

So why use a photo of these women? Images of the Lombard princess are hard to come by; we don’t even know with certainty what her name was. The temple these sculptures reside in dates back to the eighth century, about the same time as the princess, and according to a caption of a similar photo in Wikimedia Commons, these sculptures above an eighth-century fresco are from the same period. Medieval artists clothed their characters in contemporary garb no matter what century the event happened. The clothing on the sculptures, rendered in beautiful detail, is consistent with Frankish fashion from this era – long loose sleeves over tighter sleeves, girdles, underskirts.

Might the Lombard princess have worn something like the clothing and headdresses shown here and styled her hair in a similar way? Might she have similar facial features? The sculptures give us tantalizing clues.

Related Link

Tempietto Longobardo (English version)

Help Wanted: Where Did These Images of the Lombard King Come From?

Tags

Adelchi, Charlemagne, Desiderius, illustration, Lombards, Manzoni, medieval, The Cross and the Dragon

Eighth-century writers can be inconsiderate to modern readers. They rarely describe what the people they’re writing about look like nor do they include images.

So the blogger often turns to later illustrations of their subjects. Such is the case with Desiderius, king of Lombardy in northern Italy and the subject of an upcoming guest post on Tinney Sue Heath’s blog, Historical Fiction Research.

Desiderius’s name may be familiar to readers of Outtakes and The Cross and the Dragon. He is King Charles’s ex-father-in-law, and in the early 770s, they fought a war. In an excellent scholarly article, “Pavia and Rome: The Lombard Monarchy and the Papacy in the Eighth Century,” Jan T. Hallenbeck analyzes the complexities that led to the war, which will be shared later.

Right now, I could use some assistance on information about the illustrations I’m considering for the post. Perhaps it is the former journalist in me, but I like to provide readers with information about the images themselves. When were they created? Who is the artist? My usual source for images, Wikimedia Commons, does a pretty good job of this most of the time.

Appearing to be from the 19th century, the images below might have illustrated Alessandro Manzoni’s 1822 tragedy Adelchi, which gets its name from Desiderius’s son Adalgis.

The first (I think) shows Adalgis after Charles’s victory. (In real life, Adalgis escaped to Byzantium during the war and tried to retake his kingdom.) The second shows Desiderius at court and the third, the Lombard camp.

If you can tell me something about any of these images, I would be most grateful.

When Artistry Trumps Accuracy

Tags

age of charlemagne, clothing, fashion, Heraldic Chivalry, Historical Fiction, historical novelists, medieval, Middle Ages

My inner stickler for accuracy is sulking, a rather hard thing for someone whose day job includes occasionally grilling people about whether information is correct. I’m sorry, I tell my inner stickler, historical accuracy would be perfect if you were a scholar, but you’re not. You’re a novelist. Of course, you do research to accurately portray the people and their times, but you also tell lies to improve the story. It’s fiction after all.

So is the banner on this blog, which is from Heraldic Chivalry by Alphonse Mucha, 1860-1939 (full image below).

My forthcoming novel, The Cross and the Dragon, is a love story with a twist set in the earlier years of Charlemagne’s reign, the 770s to be a little more specific.

The armor and clothing in this painting are not at all eighth century. The armor eighth-century warriors used is uncertain, but it could have been a leather jerkin with tiny metal plates. Uncomfortably heavy, most warriors would not wear it unless they had to, as in an enemy soldier charging at you with a sword.

Excavation of a Frankish grave revealed a high-born lady wearing a red silk gown with gold-embroidered sleeves over a purple tunic, along with jewelry and a red satin veil secured by gold pins.

And don’t get me started on the side saddle, which was invented centuries later. A horsewoman friend of mine pointed out the lady’s hands are in the air and her horse is flinging its head in an ungainly way.

So why choose this image, even though it doesn’t depict the eighth century, for the banner on my blog, website (kimrendfeld.com), Facebook fan page, and my Twitter page? To a casual observer, it says medieval and transports the viewer to a different time and place. But more importantly, it’s beautiful, with vibrant reds contrasting the greens.

It’s also proof that sometimes artistry must trump accuracy.

Sources:

Daily Life in the Age of Charlemagne, 2002, John J. Butt
“Carolingian Arms and Armor in the Ninth Century,” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies, Vol.21, 1990, Simon Coupland

Help Wanted: When Was This Image of Charlemagne and the Pope Painted?

Tags

arts, Charlemagne, Franks, illustration, Lombards, medieval, Middle Ages, Painting, Pope Hadrian, Writing

From Wikimedia Commons, public domain image

I have a great image for my upcoming blog post on Unusual Historicals. It illustrates one of Charlemagne’s family feuds in the early 770s, when the fate of Rome hung in the balance.

Just one problem. I don’t know anything about this image such as when and where it was created and by whom. It purports to depict Pope Hadrian asking Charlemagne for help against the Lombards, who are threatening him. I searched online, and all I get is the same copied-and-pasted caption.

A coin with Charles’s image from late in his reign (by PHGCOM, CC BY-SA 3.0 or GFDL, via Wikimedia Commons)

I can simply write the caption to say what the image depicts, but I would like to know at least when it was made. Judging by the armor, the image was created centuries after Charlemagne’s lifetime, and the king in the painting does not much resemble the guy whose face is on the coin, minted around 812, toward the end of Charlemagne’s life (image from Wikimedia Commons, permission granted under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License).

If you know what era this painting might have been, have a good estimate, or can point me in the right direction, please let me know. Either leave a comment here or contact me through my website, kimrendfeld.com.

Update: Chris provided me with a link that has the answer. (See the comments.) This is a 1493 miniature from Chronicles of France. Thanks, Chris.