Quotquot invenire posset: Inventiones and Historical Memory in Southern , c. 900-1150

by

Bridget Kathryn Riley

A thesis submitted in conformity with the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy Centre for Medieval Studies University of Toronto

© Copyright by Bridget Riley 2020

Quotquot invenire posset: Inventiones and Historical Memory in , c. 900-1150

Bridget Riley

Doctor of Philosophy

Centre for Medieval Studies University of Toronto

2020 Abstract

This dissertation examines inventiones, that is narratives of discoveries, written in southern

Italy between the tenth and twelfth centuries. During this period, communities dealt with sweeping changes brought on by political upheaval, invasion, and ecclesiastical reforms. Several inventiones written concomitantly to these events have received little scholarly attention. This dissertation has two goals: to enhance our understanding of the genre in general and to explore further the local circumstances that prompted their composition and copying. The following four case studies pertain to Christian communities in , , and Larino, and the abbey of

San Vincenzo al respectively. This dissertation argues that, because of their “inventive” nature, these sources were powerful means of writing and rewriting history and, more often than not, the exercise of historical memory fueled their production. In particular, this dissertation contends that in eleventh-and twelfth-century southern Italy, as communities underwent the transition from Lombard to Norman authorities, the memory of the Lombard lords of the past was utilized in inventiones as a powerful tool to rewrite the identity of a community as it negotiated the changing political and ecclesiastical landscape. Furthermore, this dissertation argues that because of the devotional nature of inventiones, typically composed for use in the liturgy and thus potentially exposed to a large public, the history encoded within these sources

ii was made all the more powerful. Inventiones reveal how the liturgy, ritual, and devotion were mobilized by medieval communities and display an inherent reciprocity between historical and devotional writing and thought. In order to unlock these features as well as the local conflicts and agendas that prompted the production of inventiones, both a close study of the original manuscripts of extant inventiones as well as attention to contemporary liturgical, diplomatic, and material sources are major components of each case study.

iii

Acknowledgments

I owe my gratitude to many, without whom this dissertation would not exist. First, heartfelt thanks goes to my supervisor, Isabelle Cochelin. Isabelle, you championed this project from its nascent stages and you championed me throughout all the twists and turns along the way. Thank you for your many years of support and guidance. Thank you also to Jill Caskey, who introduced me to southern Italy, from my first graduate seminar in my Master’s year at the Centre to our trip to Benevento, up that amazing mountain, and into that ’s cave. I cannot express my gratitude enough for your encouragement, kindness, and your friendship along this journey. I am also grateful for the feedback that many others have kindly given. Thanks goes to Nick Everett, who provided valuable insight into this project and advice on the edition of the Vita S. Pardi. Thank you to Professor Richard Gyug and Professor Paul Oldfield, who generously gave their time and invaluable feedback. Thank you also goes to Dr. Julie Anderson. Your kind feedback and your outstanding research helped to shape this dissertation in so many ways. Thank you to members of the Haskins Society, for creating a welcoming space where I felt encouraged to present and discuss chapters of this dissertation. Thanks goes especially to Bill North and Laura Gathagan, the editors of the Haskins Society Journal, for their generosity and encouragement. Thank you also to Grace Desa, the keeper of the Centre’s institutional memory. This dissertation has seen the inside of many libraries. I would be remiss not to thank the outstanding support I have received from many librarians, the unsung heroes of academia. Thank you to Amanda Criss, the Interlibrary Loan coordinator at Herrick Memorial Library of Alfred University. Your ability to track down countless obscure resources from a tiny town in the Southern Tier never ceased to amaze me. I also owe my gratitude to the interlibrary loan staff of Robarts Library of the University of Toronto, with whose support I was able to finish this thesis remotely. I am also grateful for the librarians and staff of the Library of Congress and to Professor Iadanza from the Biblioteca Capitolare in Benevento. I would not have made it through this without the many friendships that have withstood the test of time, distance, and the many trials of the PhD. Lochin Brouillard, Alex Bauer, Daniel Jamison, Terri Sanderson, and Julia Warnes, thank you for your encouragement and love throughout these years. There is no one on earth I would rather have learned Latin and drank wine with. On a more personal note, I am extremely grateful to my parents, my first teachers. Mom, thank you for always encouraging my curiosity and guiding me with love and a sense of humor. Thank you for teaching me that it can be just as powerful to ask the questions rather than to know the answers. Dad, thank you for countless trips to the bookstore, for buying me any book, for teaching me to be a better reader and writer, for instilling in me a love of learning. To my children, Tully and Grace, you did not make this dissertation easier to write but you sure did make it more joyful. Thank you for your smiles, your snuggles, and for constantly reminding me of the beauty and wonder of this world. To Trevor, my partner and my best friend. Your faith, your support, your love, and your ability to talk me off a ledge (which is most often really more of a curbside), have made this dissertation possible. Thank you for believing in me, living in a strange trailer in the middle of Connecticut for a month, for moving to upstate New York to be closer to me, for driving back and forth to Toronto, for supporting our family, for building me a garden. I love you. It is to you that this dissertation is dedicated.

Bridget Riley

Kensingon, MD

iv

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments ...... iv

Table of Contents ...... v

List of Maps ...... viii

List of Figures ...... ix

List of Tables ...... x

Introduction ...... 1

Inventiones ...... 1

1.1 Sanctity and Inventiones in Medieval Southern Italy ...... 2

1.2 Scholarship on Inventiones ...... 6

1.3 Limits of the Present Study ...... 9

Historical Context, Southern Italy, c. 850-1150 ...... 11

2.1 Lombard Authority in Southern Italy ...... 13

2.2 The Normans of Southern Italy...... 17

2.3 The in Southern Italy, c. 850-1150 ...... 19

Theoretical Contexts ...... 25

Structure of the Dissertation ...... 31

Chapter 1: Inventio and Identity in Tenth-Century Naples: The Translatio S. Sosii ...... 33

Introduction ...... 33

Naples in the ninth and early-tenth century ...... 39

Dating and use of the Translatio S. Sosii ...... 50

The Discovery of St Sosius ...... 52

Memory and Episcopal Power in the Translatio S. Sosii ...... 55

Conclusions: Thematic Reciprocity in the Translatio and Diplomata ducum Neapolis ...... 62

Chapter 2: The Discovery of St Pardus of Larino: Remembering the along the Lombard-Byzantine Frontier ...... 67

v

Introduction ...... 67

Scholarship on the Vita S. Pardi ...... 68

Historical Context: Larino and its neighbors between Byzantium and Benevento ...... 71

Manuscript History and Dating of the Vita S. Pardi ...... 87

The Content of the Vita S. Pardi ...... 91

(Missing) Secular Authority in the Vita S. Pardi ...... 97

Constructing a Latin Identity for Larino ...... 99

Breaking Byzantium: Understanding Larino, Lucera and Lesina in the Vita S. Pardi ...... 102

Liturgical Memory and the Cult of St Pardus from Larino to Benevento ...... 107

Chapter 3:The Discovery of St Mercurius: Identity and Memory in the Abbey of Santa Sofia, c. 1080-1120 ...... 116

Introduction ...... 116

The Abbey of Santa Sofia in Context ...... 118

Content of the Translatio S. Mercurii ...... 132

The Sources and Dating of the Cult of St Mercurius and the Translatio S. Mercurii ...... 134

The Scriptorium of Santa Sofia and the Transmission of Mercurius’ Cult: ...... 146

New Contexts for the Translatio S. Mercurii ...... 159

6.1 Praeceptum confirmationis, 1080 ...... 161

6.2 Cartula concessionis, 1082 ...... 166

6.3 Praeceptum confirmationis, 1092 ...... 170

6.4 Privilegium, 1092 ...... 173

Conclusion ...... 176

Chapter 4: Inventio and Memory in the Chronicon Vulturnense ...... 179

Introduction ...... 179

A Short History of Vincenzo al Volturno ...... 183

The Chronicon Vulturnense in Context ...... 192

vi

Legendary Memory and Spiritual Identity in the Chronicon ...... 201

Discovery and Memory in the Chronicon ...... 211

The Monastery of San Martino in the Chronicon ...... 220

San Martino between Volturno, Carinola, and Montecassino ...... 235

7.1 Tradition #1: The Discovery and Translation of St Martin’s by Bernard of Carinola ...... 237

7.2 Tradition #2: St Martin’s Relics and Prince Arichis II in the Chronicon ...... 245

7.3 Tradition #3: Peter the and the Inventio and Translatio of St Martin to Montecassino ...... 250

Conclusion ...... 255

Conclusion ...... 257

Appendix 1: Inventiones of southern Italy, c. 900-1150 ...... 263

Appendix 2: The Vita Sancti Pardi confessor et episcopi by the Deacon Radoinus ...... 267

Introduction ...... 267

Editorial Principles ...... 268

Bibliography ...... 280

vii

List of Maps

Map 1 Main locations mentioned in Chapter 1 ...... 35

Map 2 Naples, c. 8th century - c. 11th century ...... 47

Map 3 Main locations mentioned in Chapter 2...... 74

Map 4 Northern portion of Byzantine Apulia, c. 1000...... 74

Map 5 Main locations mentioned in Chapter 4...... 185

Map 6 Detail of Monte Massico and Carinola...... 236

viii

List of Figures

Figure 1 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 6, fol. 269v...... 110

Figure 2 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 67r ...... 143

Figure 3 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 67r ...... 144

Figure 4 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 270r ...... 151

Figure 5 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 280r ...... 152

Figure 6 External edifice of San Martino...... 224

Figure 7 Remains of a cistern on Monte Massico ...... 224

Figure 8 Cave oratory of St Martin de Monte Massico ...... 225

Figure 9 Narrow Pathway on Monte Massico ...... 226

Figure 10 Monte Massico ...... 231

Figure 11 Monte Massico ...... 232

Figure 12 Monte Massico ...... 233

ix

List of Tables

Table 1 Feasts of Mercurius and Twelve Holy Brothers ...... 138

Table 2 Partial Inventory of the Chronicon Vulturnense...... 195

x

Introduction Inventiones

Writing in the late fourth century, St of Milan (d. 397) recalled how Empress Helena, the mother of Emperor (306-337), discovered fragments of the True Cross while on pilgrimage to Jerusalem:

Helena arrived, therefore, and began to search through the holy places. Inspired by the Holy Spirit to discover the relics of the True Cross, she came to Golgotha and said, “here is the place of battle, but where is the victory? I search for the banner of , but I do not find it.”... She opened the earth, she overturned the dust, and she discovered three crosses in disarray, which ruins had covered. Although the the Enemy had hidden them, he was unable to hide the victory of Christ.1

Ambrose's account of the discovery of the True Cross was a small part of a much longer oration. Yet it nevertheless served as a model for accounts of relic discoveries (inventiones) for centuries to come.2 The discovery of the True Cross was an ancient root of what would become a widespread and popular genre, which would spread throughout western as well as Byzantium, as communities unearthed the relics of their saints, translated these holy bodies within city walls, and enshrined them within newly built or long-established altars. In inventiones, corporeal remains accompanied vestiges of the past. Once resurrected, as will be shown in this dissertation, these relics served any number of purposes, from the spiritual to the political. Relics, once discovered, connected a community to its history, provided divine blessings to dukes and princes, and granted miraculous cures to countless pilgrims.

In contemporary society, “to invent” signifies a creative undertaking, one fueled by human ingenuity and engineering. An invention is something novel, born of the desire to create and

1 Ambrose of Milan, “De obitu Theodosii oratio,” Patrologia Latina, ed. by J.P. Migne (Paris: Garnier, 1844-1855 and 1862-1865) (henceforth PL), 16, col. 1401: “Venit ergo Helena, coepit revisere loca sancta, infudit ei Spiritus ut lignum crucis requireret, accessit ad Golgotha, et ait: Ecce locus pugnae, ubi est victoria? Quaero vexillum salutis, et non inventio … Aperit itaque humum, decutit pulverem: tria patibula confusa reperit, quae ruina contexerat, inimicus absconderat. Sed non potuit oblitterari Christi triumphus.” All translations are my own unless noted otherwise. 2 An excellent overview of the origins of the genre of inventiones in the Eastern can be found in E. Cronier, Les inventions de reliques dans l’Empire romain d’Orient (IVe-VIe) (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015), introduction and ch. 1.

1

improve and construct; an inventor may evoke an image of a scientist, an entrepreneur, or a professor. However, the word’s Latin root, invenire, translates to “to discover.” Discovery has less to do with engineering and human creativity and relates more to the spontaneous, a revelation. In the Middle Ages, the term inventio had multiple meanings. In its most basic sense, an inventio was the miraculous discovery of saintly relics. As a liturgical celebration, an inventio was a feast day to commemorate a relic discovery. Many communities also composed hagiographical sources known as inventiones, which documented the discoveries of ancient or long-lost saintly relics. As hagiographical sources, often read in the celebration of the liturgy, inventiones adhere to a standard set of motifs and themes and relied on scripture to form a backbone to the narrative of discovery. Yet, encrypted within these tropes, were local politics, agendas, and identities, a deep well of historical information.3

This dissertation examines four case studies of inventiones composed in southern Italy between the tenth and twelfth centuries in order to offer new perspectives on what individual texts achieved in their local settings through the writing, copying, and transmission of these sources. In the period between the tenth and twelfth centuries, communities in southern Italy underwent a great amount of change and upheaval, including the shift from the Lombard era to the arrival of the Normans and the consolidation of their power in stages across the region. This shift, as we will see, resulted in changes in the religious, social, and political makeup of communities in southern Italy.4 In the midst of these changes, communities turned to their saints for protection, patronage, to express their identities, and rewrite their histories.

1.1 Sanctity and Inventiones in Medieval Southern Italy

The cult of saints flourished in southern Italy during the period in question. One can observe the development of large religious centers still important today, like the shrine of St on

3 Monographs on this topic include T. Head, Hagiography and the Cult of Saints: The Diocese of Orleans 800-1200 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990); P. Geary, Furta Sacra: Thefts of Relics in the Central Middle Ages (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978) and Living with the Dead in the Middle Ages (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994), 18-27; P. Brown, The Cult of Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1981); N. Herrmann-Mascard, Les reliques des saints: formation coutumière d’un droit, (Paris: Klincksieck, 1975); R. Bartlett, Why Can the Dead Do Such Great Things?: Saints and Worshippers from the Martyrs to the (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013). 4 P. Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage in Medieval Southern Italy, 1000-1200 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 2. 2

Monte Gargano and St Nicholas in .5 More abundant, however, were the smaller, local cults devoted to local saints, like St Pardus of Larino and St Sossius of Naples. Because of this, southern Italy is fruitful terrain for any study of sanctity. Numerous inventiones were written as stand-alone stories or within broader hagiographic tales. In contrast to other studies on inventiones, this dissertation pays special attention to those sources that are embedded within broader historical narratives, focusing on how inventiones, on the one hand, communicate by means of a unique lexicon and, on the other hand, also display the deep interconnectedness between various modes of historical thought and literacy.6

By my count, at least thirty records of individual relic discoveries composed between the tenth and twelfth centuries in southern Italy survive in at least one manuscript (for a table listing extant inventiones from southern Italy, see Appendix 1). In all likelihood, however, more occurred than were written down or survive in written form.7 A document from 1119 originating in the abbey of Santa Sofia offers some perspective. The document indicates that the abbey had collected forty-four relics by the twelfth century.8 Yet, out of this number, only two narrative accounts survive that record inventiones or translationes (the subsequent movement of relics to a

5 For a survey of saints’ cults that developed during the period in question see, O. Limone, “Italia meridionale (950- 1220),” Hagiographies II, ed. G. Philippart (Turnhout: Brepols, 1996), 11-60; A. Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,” in e longobardi nell'Italia meridionale: le istituzioni ecclesiastiche: atti del 2. convegno internazionale di studi promosso dal Centro di Cultura dell'Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore Benevento, 29-31 maggio 1992, ed. G. Andenna and G. Picasso (Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 1996), 199237; E. Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento,” in I Longobardi dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento atti del XVI Congresso internazionale di studi sull’alto medioevo (Spoleto: Fondazione Centre italiano di studi sull’alto medioevo, 2003) 1:298-315; E. D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina del Mezzogiorno continentale d’Italia (750-1000),” Hagiographies 4 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014): 47-57. 6 For more on this theoretical approach see section 1.3 below. 7 For a comparison to the Carolingian era, see the recent study on translationes composed between the years c. 771- c. 877, in territories across Gaul, Germanic territories, and Carolingian-controlled Italy: G. Vocino, “Le traslazioni di reliquie in età carolingia (fine VII-IX secolo): uno studio comparativo,” Rivista di storia e letteratura religiosa 44 (2008): 207-55. Vocino’s study lists a total of 92 documented translationes in the course of about a century in these territories. The study includes only those translationes documented in autonomous narratives (e.g. stand-alone translationes) and does not give any indication regarding the number of inventiones (such a study is still needed). E. D’Angelo’s study of Latin hagiography from southern Italy, 750-1000 similarly follows the approach of including translatio accounts that survive only in stand-alone narratives, rather than including those which are integrated in vitae, chronicles, chartularies, and other narrative sources. Furthermore, D’Angelo’s study subsumes inventiones within the category of translationes, and thus provides no discrete list of inventiones. Out of 100 sources surveyed, D’Angelo listed 18 translationes to have survived from the period between the late eighth century till the eleventh century. However, D’Angelo noted that because of the inherent heterogeneity of hagiographic genres, concrete data is nearly impossible to come by. See “Agiografia latina,” 104-5. 8 F. Ughelli, ed., Italia Sacra, 2nd edition (Venice: Sebastian Coletti, 1717-1722), 10:544; V. Brown, Terra sancti Benedicti: Studies in the Paleography, History and Liturgy of Medieval Southern Italy (: Edizioni di storia e letteratura, 2005), 466. 3

permanent shrine) associated with Santa Sofia: the Translatio S. Mercurii and the Translatio duodecim fratrum. Because of the importance of the abbey’s sizable relic collection, it is possible to extrapolate that the abbey had more than just the two relic discoveries, and that these other inventiones have now been lost or were not documented on parchment.

The discovery of the relics of the apostle Matthew, which is known to have taken place, for instance, has no full-length inventio account. These relics had been originally translated to in the tenth century and were rediscovered in 1080. After their rediscovery, they were enshrined in the city’s cathedral, newly rebuilt, and Matthew’s cult was promoted by Robert Guiscard (1015-1085), one of the leading Norman lords of southern Italy. Given the extremely high profile of this inventio, it is curious that no full-length narrative survives. The event was even remembered in the hymns composed by Alfanus I of Salerno (1058-1085) and in a letter by Gregory VII, extolling the virtues of the and the city of Salerno.9

The discovery of St Matthew’s relics introduces an important characteristic of inventiones, one which we will continuously encounter throughout this dissertation. Namely, relic discoveries took place (or were staged) at strategic moments of change, often during a process of rebuilding the physical or administrative fabric of a city, or both. It was no coincidence, for instance, that St Matthew's relics were rediscovered around the same time that construction was underway on Salerno’s cathedral. Indeed, the cathedral represented much more than a space of worship; it was a center of ecclesiastical authority, a symbol of Salerno’s spiritual prestige, an articulation of power and wealth and a point of convergence for all, whatever their origins.10 The discovery of apostle’s relics substantiated the messages of glory that the cathedral communicated in stone. Other relic discoveries, like that of St Sossius of Naples (c. 906) and St Martin of Montemassico in (c. 1094), as we will see, took place as a city or a community was recovering from a period of upheaval or change in administration. In both cases, the record of a relic discovery

9 The hymns can be found in A. Lentini and F. Avagliano, I carmi di Alfano I arcivescovo di Salerno, Miscellanea cassinese 38 (Montecassino, 1974), 84-9, 225-32. For Gregory’s letter, see Gregory VII, Registrum, ed. E. Caspar, Monumenta Germaniae Historica (henceforth MGH), Epistolae selectae (Berlin: Weidmann, 1920) vol. 2.2, bk. 8.8, p. 526-7. For scholarship on the cult of St Matthew in Salerno, see Galdi, “Il santo e la città: il culto di S. Matteo a Salerno tra X e XVI secolo.” Rassegna storica salernitana 13.1 (1996): 21-92. 10 Galdi, “I santi e la città: agiografie e dedicazioni,” in Salerno nel XII secolo: istituzioni, società, cultura: atti del convegno internazionale: raito di Vietri sul Mare, Auditorium di Villa Guariglia, 16/20 giugno 1999, eds. P. Delogu and P. Peduto (Salerno: Centro studi salernitani, 2004), 170-83 4

attached a community to its sacred roots and revealed the endurance of its piety and the continued power of its ecclesiastical authority. As Thomas Granier wrote, a relic translation was seldom a neutral event. The same can be said of an inventio.11

Inventiones, maybe even more than other forms of hagiography, illuminate a variety of voices and perspectives, as individuals of very different standings could play a role in the process of discovery. Thanks to these sources, one can therefore find echoes of the concerns of lay populations, , monastic communities, and temporal rulers. In the Lombard period in southern Italy, for example, it was not uncommon for a powerful prince or duke to orchestrate a search for relics in order to express the divine approval of earthly power. The Translatio S. Janurarii, composed during the reign of Prince Sicard (d. 839) of the Lombard Principality, reports that Sicard himself took part in the discovery and enshrinement of the saint’s relics in the city of Benevento.12

Other inventiones were commissioned by bishops and their clergy, as episcopal sees were established or revived in the course of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries. Bishops and their clergy were some of the most active orchestrators of relic discoveries; this is not surprising given that ecclesiastical authority in medieval cities and towns often played an integral role in the formation of communal identities. We see how a cathedral can play a leading role in the Translatio S. Sossi, discussed in chapter 1, as well as in many other inventiones that originated in southern Italy during the period in question.13

Between the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the large monasteries of southern Italy helped to fuel the production of hagiography, including especially inventiones, since it was common for these monastic communities to own impressive relic collections.14 Communities like Montecassino,

11 T. Granier, “Conflitti, compromessi e trasferimenti di reliquie nel mezzogiorno latino del secolo IX,” Hagiographica 13 (2006): 34. 12 On the Translatio S. Januarii, see Granier, “Napolitains et aux VIIIe-XIe siècles: de la guerre des peuples à la guerre des saints en Italie du Sud,” Mélanges de l'Ecole française de Rome. Moyen-Age 108.2 (1996): 436; U. M. Fasola, “Il culto a san Gennaro, patrono di Napoli, nelle sue catacombe di Capodimonte,” Asprenas: Rivista di scienze teleologiche 22.1 (1975): 67-9; J. Anderson, “Historical Memory, Authority, and the Written Word: A Study of the Documentary and Literary Culture at the Early Medieval Court of Benevento, 700-900 CE,” PhD Dissertation, University of Toronto, 2017, ch. 4. I am very thankful to Julie for her insight on this project. 13 See Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery.” On the preponderance of hagiography associated with bishops, included sainted bishops see, Galdi, Santi, 95-182. 14 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 4-5. 5

Santa Sofia in Benevento, and San Vincenzo al Volturno not only wrote individual inventiones and translationes for use in their monastic office but also incorporated these legends within their chronicles and cartularies. Monastic historians, like Peter the Deacon, were commissioned by regional authorities to compose inventiones, as we see in chapter 4.15

Still, other inventiones reveal the concerns of the laity as much as the and clergy.16 In chapter 2, we see in the Vita S. Pardi that the relics of St Pardus of Larino were discovered by the tenth-century lay population, who sought protection from a saintly bishop after a protracted period of disruption.

1.2 Scholarship on Inventiones

Inventiones have long been recognized as a distinct hagiographical genre but are commonly subsumed within the category of translationes. Translationes document the movement of relics to a new shrine and oftentimes the accompanying ritual procession associated with this movement.17 However, over recent decades, several scholars have turned their attention to the usefulness of inventiones in their own right as tools to unlock local histories and identities. Monika Otter’s study of inventiones composed in twelfth-century England, for example, interprets inventiones as rich literary sources of self-referentiality used by monastic communities reflecting on the events of the Norman Conquest of England.18 Estelle Cronier’s recent work on inventiones focuses on the late antique sources from the Eastern Roman Empire.19 Cronier identified five standard stages of an inventio--subsuming for her part the translatio and the book of miracles to the inventio: the need for a saintly patron, the revelation (revelatio) of the whereabouts of the saintly relics, the discovery (inventio), the translation (translatio), the enshrinement and dedication of a new altar (dedicatio), and the development of a new (or

15 H. Bloch, The Atina Dossier of Peter the Deacon of Montecassino: A Hagiographical Romance of the Twelfth Century (: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1998); Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 94-5. 16 See the article by Bozóky on inventiones in Gaul, “Le rôle du petit peuple dans les inventions de reliques (IXe-XIe siècle),” in Le petit peuple dans l’occident médiéval: terminologies, perceptions, réalités: actes du Congrès international tenu à l’Université de Montréal, 18-23 octobre 1999, eds. P. Boglioni, R.Delort, and C. Gauvard (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002), 549-58. 17 M. Heinzelmann, Translationsberichte und andere Quellen des Reliquienkultes, Typologie des sources du Moyen Âge occidental (Turnhout: Brepols, 1979), 77-80; Cronier, Les inventions, 25-6. 18 M. Otter, Inventiones: Fiction and Referentiality during the Twelfth Century (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1999) 19 Cronier, Les inventions de reliques. 6

renewed) cult through miraculous healing (miracula). In addition to these full-length studies, shorter scholarly works on inventiones abound in articles, including the work of Thomas Head,

Edina Bozoky, Ann Marie Helvétius, Amalia Galdi, and Thomas Granier, to name just a few.20

Beside these, there are several important studies that focus specifically on the cult of saints in medieval southern Italy. These studies typically fit into two categories. There are those that focus on the cult of saints during the Lombard principality, which spanned from the eighth through the eleventh century.21 In the second category, there are studies that focus on the cult of saints after the arrival of the Normans during the course of the eleventh century.22 Scholarly works on the inventiones of southern Italy both during the Lombard period and after the arrival of the Normans have recognized these sources as tools used to articulate the needs of local communities as they underwent rapid change and upheaval. Thomas Granier, for example, has published several studies on the movement of relics in the Lombard period in southern Italy and how this movement responded to local competitions.23 Amalia Galdi has focused on the flurry of new cults in Campania after the arrival of the Normans when relics were discovered and

20 See, for example, Granier, “Conflitti, compromessi e trasferimenti,” 33-72; Galdi, Santi, ch. 3; Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery”; A.-M. Helvétius, “Les inventions de reliques en Gaule du Nord (IXe-XIIIe siècle),” in Les reliques: objets, cultes, symboles: actes du colloque international de l’Université du Littoral-Côte d’Opale (Boulogne-sur- Mer), 4-6 septembre 1997, eds. E. Bozóky and A. Helvétius (Turnhout: Brepols, 1999), 292-311; Bozóky, “Le rôle du petit peuple”; J. Keskiaho, “Dreams and the Discoveries of Relics in the : Observations on Narrative Models and the Effects of Authorial Context in the Revelatio Sancti Stephani,” in Relics, Identity, and Memory in Medieval Europe, eds. M. Räsänen, G. Hartmann, E. J. Richards (Turnout: Brepols, 2016), 31-52; A. Tilatti, “Dall'agiografia alla cronaca. Le Inventiones degli antichi patroni padovani fra interpretazione storiografica e sviluppo di una coscienza civica (secc. XI-XII),” in Actes du colloque organisé par le Centre de recherche «Histoire sociale et culturelle de l'Occident. XIIe-XVIIIe siècle» de l'Université de Paris X-Nanterre et l'Institut universitaire de France (Nanterre, 21-23 juin 1993) (Rome: l'École Française de Rome, 1995), 47-64. 21 See especially, Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,” 199-237; E. Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento,” 298-315; E. D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina,” 47-57; G. Luongo, “Alla ricerca del sacro: le traslazioni dei santi in epoca altomedievale,” in Il ritorno di Paolino: 80. dalla traslazione a Nola: atti, documenti, testimonianze letterarie, ed. Andrea Ruggiero (Naples: LER, 1990), 17-39; E. Dupré Theseider, “La ‘grande rapina dei corpi santi’ dall’Italia al tempo di Ottono I,” in Festschrift Percy Ernst Schramm: zu seinem siebzigsten Geburtstag von Schülern und Freunden zugeeignet, ed. P. Classen und P. Scheibert (Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1964), 420-32; Galdi, “Traslazioni di reliquie in Campania tra poteri e religioso (secoli IX-XII),” in Dal lago di Tiberiade al mare di Amalfi: il viaggio apostolico di Andrea, il primo chiamato: testimonianze cronache e prospettive di ecumenismo nell’VIII centenario della Traslazione delle reliquie del corpo (1208-2008), ed. M. Talalay (Amalfi: Centro di cultura e storia amalfitana, 2008), 79-89. 22 Notably, Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage and Galdi, Santi, ch. 3; See also, C. Bottiglieri, “Literary Themes and Genres in Southern Italy during the Norman Age: The Return of the Saints,” in Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage, eds. S. Burkhardt and T. Forester (New York: Routledge, 2013), 97-124, which focuses exclusively on inventiones and translationes; Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery.” 23 For example, Granier, “Conflitti, compromessi e trasferimenti,” 33-72 and “Naples aux IXe et Xe siècles: topographie religieuse et production hagiographique,” in La ville au Moyen Ȃge. Vol. I, ville et espace, eds., N. Coulet and O. Guyotjeannin (Paris: CTHS, 1998), 113-30. 7

relocated as new bishoprics were founded, one of the results of the ecclesiastical reorganization that occurred during the Norman consolidation of power.24 Thomas Head has made similar observations for Apulia after the arrival of the Normans.25

Generally, scholars working on sanctity after the social and political reorganization hastened by the Norman lords posit that there was a great “revival” of saint veneration. In this line of thought, Corinna Bottiglieri, Amalia Galdi, and Thomas Head have suggested that inventiones and translationes are particularly associated with the “Norman era” in southern Italy. This generalization, as this dissertation shows, is somewhat problematic because inventiones and translationes were composed and copied to the eleventh century as well.26 Furthermore, many of the sources that survive from the late eleventh and twelfth centuries were later copies of sources that likely dated to the eighth, ninth, and tenth centuries.

While research on the inventiones of southern Italy has made great progress towards contextualizing myriad sources, there remain texts that warrant further study, either because they are of uncertain authorship and context or because they have yet to be edited reliably. Furthermore, inventiones are often the focus of studies that do not give close consideration to original manuscript recensions and the relationship between the narrative, the codex in which it was bound, and the wider intellectual and artistic culture of the community in which it was authored or copied. This has resulted in the marginalization of questions regarding the fundamental motivations behind the production (and reproduction) of inventiones as their meaning changed over time within a local community. This dissertation seeks to fill some of those gaps.

In many studies, the tendency still remains to subsume relic discoveries within the wider genre of translationes. This is most likely due to the reality that it is very rare to have an inventio without a translatio (while the reverse is not true: a translatio does not necessitate an inventio). After they were discovered, saintly relics needed to be moved to a suitable location. Put simply, it can

24 Galdi, Santi, ch. 3 and “Troia, Montecassino e i Normanni: la traslazione di S. Eleuterio tra identità cittadina e dinamiche di potere.” Vetera Christianorum 47 (2010): 63-83; Galdi, “Culti e agiografie d’età normanna in Italia meridionale,” in People, Texts and Artefacts: Cultural Transmission in the Medieval Norman Worlds, eds., D. Bates, E. D’Angelo, and E. van Houts (London: Institute of Historical Research, 2018), 89-104. 25 Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery,” 181-6. 26 See especially the comments made by Bottiglieri, “Literary themes and Genres,” 97. 8

be difficult to determine the boundaries between an inventio and a translatio because the events bled into one another.27 However, as this dissertation establishes, the process of discovery was a distinct and unique event from the process of translation. Perhaps more so than a translation ceremony, the “inventive” nature of a relic discovery offered a community the chance to creatively write and reconfigure its own past. Nevertheless, there exists no full-length study devoted to the inventiones of southern Italy. While this study addresses this gap in scholarship, every inventio examined in here also includes a description of the ensuing translatio. Translationes were, like inventiones, important modes of communicating social bonds, hierarchies, and agendas.

1.3 Limits of the Present Study

Out of the abundance of surviving inventiones from southern Italy, I have selected case studies that are representative of a variety of authors and perspectives, from those that originated within the walls of a monastery to those that were commissioned by a member of the laity. Within this selection, I focus on the critical role that inventiones played in the process of remembering and writing the past. Therefore, this dissertation examines inventiones that display a clear use of the exercise of memory: the goal is to use these texts in order to illuminate how medieval communities remembered and constructed their own histories.

Finally, and related to the focus on historical memory, every territory and community discussed in this dissertation shares some connection to the Lombard rulers, from either the remote or recent past. This commonality gives us the ability to chart how collective memory of a past era, the time of the Lombards, shifted from generation to generation and from location to location. Ultimately, the connection with the Lombard rulers of the past appears in differing shapes and sizes throughout this study, from a monastery fondly remembering its eighth-century foundation by the Lombard Prince Arichis II or a Norman authority wishing to sever ties with his city’s Lombard roots, like Bishop Bernard of Carinola. In every case study, however, inventiones reveal how communities used the narratives of discovery to write and rewrite the histories of

27 For the pitfalls of assigning genre to hagiographic narratives, see F. Lifschitz, “Beyond Positivism and Genre: ‘Hagiographical’ Texts as Historical Narrative,” Viator 25 (1994): 95-113. See also the recent dissertation by Kate Craig, “Bringing Out the Saints: Journeys of Relics in Tenth to Twelfth Century Northern France and Flanders,” PhD Diss., UCLA, 2015, 10-11. 9

these lords and, in turn, how history intersected with devotion. As communities unearthed relics, they also unearthed memories of their past under Lombard authority, creatively imagined or otherwise, recent or remote. The past represented and recalled in inventiones was, in other words, both an expression of religious devotion as well as a mode of writing history. From this perspective, inventiones illustrate the lack of sharp boundaries between the writing of history and that of hagiography.

A further note on the scope of this study must include a description of its geographical parameters. Namely, this dissertation will primarily focus on the mainland of southern Italy and will not incorporate the island of . This is because the story of sanctity and saint veneration on Sicily developed along very different lines than it did on the peninsula. For one thing, due to the late re- of the island of Sicily after the end of Muslim rule in the eleventh century, there is nowhere near the abundance of hagiographical production as there was on the mainland by the mid-eleventh century. While there are several early translationes that record the transfer of holy bodies from Sicily to the mainland to escape the Saracen raids, the overall evidence of the production of inventiones on the island between the ninth and twelfth centuries is very difficult to detect.28

Further, since this project examines as a sub-theme how the memory of Lombard lords manifested in inventiones from the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, those territories that were not associated with the Lombard principalities are naturally given less attention. Therefore, this study focuses primarily on the region of Campania and Apulia. Within this geographical framework, I have chosen sources that represent a variety of settings, from urban and well- populated and well-trafficked areas, like Benevento and Naples, to more liminal zones, like Larino, which lay along a political frontier.

Special focus will be also given to the city of Benevento and the institutions associated with the Beneventan Church. Between the ninth and twelfth centuries, the Lombard rulers and civic and

28 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 139. One example of the movement of relics from Sicily is the mid-ninth century Vita S. Antonini (BHL 582), in Acta Sanctorum, Iohannes Bollandus et al., eds., 60 vols (Paris and Rome: Victor Palme, 1863-1870) (henceforth AASS), February 2, 794-96 (all citations refer to pages). See Galdi and E. Susi, “Santi, navi, e Saraceni. Immagini e pratiche del mare tra agiografia e storia dalle coste campane a quelle dell’Alto Tirreno (secoli VI-XI),” in Dio, il mare e gli uomini (Verona: Cierre, 2008), 53-83. 10

ecclesiastical authorities in Benevento initiated successful campaigns for relic collection and veneration that were meant to reflect their legacies as temporal and ecclesiastical lords.29 Out of these campaigns, richly-documented saints’ cults emerged from within Benevento. Giovanni Luongo estimated that between the years 750 and 850, the remains of 145 saints were enshrined in Benevento’s cathedral, and we have already mentioned the large collection held in the

Beneventan abbey of Santa Sofia, founded by Arichis II himself.30 For these reasons, the city of Benevento will be highlighted throughout this dissertation, while other urban centers of Lombard power, like the cities of Salerno and , will play a less significant role.31

Further to a general focus on the city of Benevento, attention is paid to the cultural programs that stemmed from the city. In particular, we will study the Beneventan liturgy and accompanying script that developed under the Lombards, who ruled over the city and its environ from the eighth century until the 1070s. Even after the reign of the Lombard lords began to retract in the tenth century, the Beneventan liturgy and script remained relevant markers of identity in communities of southern Italy into the eleventh and even twelfth centuries.32

Historical Context, Southern Italy, c. 850-1150

The large-scale changes that occurred in southern Italy during the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries included the Saracen invasions of the ninth and tenth centuries, the resurgence of Byzantine authority throughout southern Italy in the tenth century, the arrival of the Normans, and ecclesiastical reform of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Until the first half of the twelfth

29 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 22-3. 30 G. Luongo, “Alla ricerca del sacro: le traslazioni dei santi in epoca altomedievale,” in Il ritorno di Paolino: 80. dalla traslazione a Nola: atti, documenti, testimonianze letterarie, ed. Andrea Ruggiero (Naples: LER, 1990), 17-39; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 23. 31 On the , see H. Taviani-Carozzi, La principauté lombarde de Salerne (IXe-XIe siècle): pouvoir et société en Italie lombarde méridionale (Rome: École française de Rome, 1991); V. Ramseyer, The Transformation of a Religious Landscape: Medieval Southern Italy 850-1150 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006); P. Delogu, Mito di una città meridionale (Salerno, secoli VIII-XI) (Naples: Liguori, 1977); J. Drell, Kingship and Conquest: Family Strategies in the Principality of Salerno during the Norman Period 1077-1194 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002). On the principality of Capua, see N. Cilento, Le origini della signoria capuana nella Longobardia minore (Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1966); B. Visentin, La nuova Capua longobarda: identità etnica e coscienza civica nel Mezzogiorno altomedievale (Manduria: P. Lacaita, 2012); F. Marazzi, Felix Terra: Capua e la in età longobarda (Cerro al Volturno: Volturnia edizioni, 2017). 32 On Beneventan liturgy and script, see, first and foremost, the work of Virginia Brown, esp. V. Brown, Terra sancti Benedicti; Lowe and Brown, The Beneventan Script: A History of the South Italian Minuscule, 2nd ed., 2 vols. (Roma: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1980). On the Beneventan chant, see T. F. Kelly, The Beneventan Chant (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). 11

century, southern Italy was not ruled by any one authority. Instead, it was fragmented, controlled by competing polities. Among these, there were the Lombard dukes and princes, the , Muslim emirates, and, by the eleventh century, the Normans, who had arrived as mercenaries and pilgrims. Soon, through the course of the eleventh century, the Norman newcomers would accumulate power, land, and control throughout the peninsula and eventually replace their predecessors, the Lombards, Byzantines, and Aghlabids, as the rulers of southern Italy. On a map, the lines of political division between the tenth and much of the eleventh century would take shape roughly as follows: Apulia, on the eastern coast of the peninsula and Calabria, the “toe” of the boot, were controlled in large part by the Byzantine empire while some portions of this province belonged to the Lombard lords. The western region of the peninsula, Campania, and the territory north of Apulia, , was predominantly under the authority of the Lombards (split between the principalities of Benevento, Salerno, and Capua). The Campanian coastline also included politically autonomous duchies: Naples, Gaeta, and Amalfi. Muslim strongholds peppered the entire region, from the Apulian city of Bari to the island of

Sicily.33 Thus, prior to the twelfth century, the region was a cultural, religious, and political mosaic. By the twelfth century, political lines shifted as southern Italy was controlled largely by the Normans and increasingly Latinized. Despite the strengthened bond between the Latin Church and many communities of southern Italy in the course of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the region never lost its characteristic diversity.

These large-scale changes impacted local communities to varying degrees. Therefore, each chapter of this dissertation pays close attention to how the macro changes manifested on a local level. Because each chapter includes a substantial amount of historical details, I will only briefly

33 On in southern Italy, see A. Metcalfe, Muslims of Medieval Italy (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009); J.A. Taylor, Muslims in Medieval Italy: The Colony at Lucera (New York: Lexington Books, 2005); G. Musca, L’emirato di Bari, 847-871 (Bari: Dedalo litostampa, 1964); B. Kreutz, Before the Normans: Southern Italy in the Ninth and Tenth Centuries (Philadelphia University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011); S. Palmieri, “Un esempio di mobilita etnica altomedievale: i saraceni in Campania,” Montecassino dalla prima alla seconda distruzione: momenti e aspetti di storia cassinese (secc. VI-IX): atti del II Convegno di studi sul Medioevo meridionale (-Montecassino, 27-31 maggio 1984), ed. F. Avagliano, Miscellanea Cassinese 55 (Cassino: Montecassino, 1987), 597-630. On Byzantine Italy see the collection of essays in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi in Puglia nell'alto medioevo: atti del congresso internazionale di studio sull'alto medioevo, Savelletri di Fasano (BR), 3-6 novembre 2011 (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 2012); V. von Falkenhausen, La dominazione bizantina nell'Italia meridionale dal 9. al 11. secolo, (Bari: Ecumenica, 1978). On “Byzantine” art and identity, see the work by L. Safran, especially The Medieval Salento: Art and Identity in Southern Italy (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014). 12

outline the overarching historical contexts relevant to this study here. Among these, three occupy our attention in the following subsections: the authority of the Lombards in southern Italy between the eighth and the eleventh centuries, the arrival of the Normans in the course of the eleventh century, and the growing predominance of the Latin Church in southern Italy during this period.

2.1 Lombard Authority in Southern Italy

We begin with an overview of the Lombard rule in southern Italy because the memory of these lords is a recurrent theme in the primary sources discussed throughout this dissertation. The Lombards had invaded Italy in the mid-sixth century and established a kingdom in as well as two duchies to the south: one in Spoleto in present day Umbria and one in Benevento in Campania, which the Lombards took from the Byzantine empire.34 By the time that the Lombards settled in southern Italy in the seventh century, however, the region had already experienced a protracted period of upheaval brought on by plague and the period of invasions during the sixth and seventh centuries.35 The territory of Apulia was especially affected by these factors. There, urban centers underwent economic decline and many were depopulated or abandoned. Dioceses in Apulia also disappeared, leaving only six bishoprics throughout the province by the ninth century, while more than double that number had been present a century before.36

34 On Lombard southern Italy, see J.-M. Martin, La Pouille du VIe au XIIe siècle (Rome: École française de Rome, 1993); von Falkenhausen, “I Longobardi meridionale,” in Il Mezzogiorno dai bizantini a Federico II, storia d’Italia, ed. G. Galasso, et al. (Turin: UTET, 1983), 3:251-52; C. Wickham, Early Medieval Italy: Central Power and Local Society, 400-1000 (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1981); G. Roma, I longobardi del Sud (Roma: G. Bretschneider, 2010); G. Andenna and G.Picasso, eds., Longobardia e longobardi; Kreutz, Before the Normans; Ramseyer, Transformation; N. Everett, Literacy in Lombard Italy, c. 568-774 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003); Taviani-Carozzi, La Principauté lombarde de Salerne; S.Gasparri, I duchi longobardi (Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1978); A. Thomas, Jeux lombards: alliances, parenté et politique en Italie méridionale, de la fin du VIIIe siècle à la conquête normande (Rome: École française de Rome, 2016); G. A. Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard: Southern Italy and the Norman Conquest (Harlow: Pearson, 2000), ch. 1; E. Cuozzo and M. Iadanza, eds., Il ducato e il principato di Benevento: aspetti e problemi (secoli VI-XI), atti del convegno di studi, Museo del Sannio, 1 febbraio 2013 (Benevento: La provincia sannita, 2013); R. Poupardin, Les institutions politiques et administratives des principautes lombardes (Paris: H. Champion, 1907); 35 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 14. 36 The most comprehensive study of medieval Apulia remains Martin, La Pouille. On the fragmentation of the diocesan network in Apulia, see L. Duchesne, “Les évêchés d’Italie et l’invasion lombarde,” Mélanges d'archéologie et d'histoire 23.1 (1903): 83-116. 13

After the kingdom of the Lombards in northern Italy fell to in 774, the duchy of

Benevento remained.37 During that same year, the Lombard duke, Arichis II (734-787), adopted the title of princeps and established the Lombard Principality of Benevento. While Benevento was the principality’s capital city in the late eighth century, Lombard-controlled territory had gradually stretched by that point to comprise almost all the southern third of Italy.38 At its heyday in the eighth and ninth centuries, the Lombards controlled territories in Campania,

Apulia, Basilicata, Molise, and Calabria.39 Yet, while the principality enjoyed a period of expansion during its earliest years in the eighth and early ninth century, the great majority of the history of Lombard power in southern Italy was marked by warfare, conflict, and upheaval.40

One major factor that impacted communities in southern Italy in the course of the ninth century were conflicts among the Lombard rulers themselves. For example, in 839 a decade-long civil war fractured the Lombard principality of Benevento, splitting Lombard power into three distinct principalities centered in Benevento, Salerno, and Capua respectively.41 The split of the principality of Benevento was recognized in 849 with the agreement known as the Divisio ducatus.42 As Julie Anderson has recently shown, because of its history as the traditional seat of Lombard power and the continuous conflict through the ninth and tenth centuries which prompted the need to assert the authority of the Beneventan princes, the city of Benevento endured as a hub of literary production. Beneventan historians and hagiographers thus focused on the heroism of the Lombard rulers, despite the fractured state of the principality.43 Through the late eleventh century, Benevento remained the heart of the Lombard authority in the south, both politically and culturally, even as Lombard authority declined and retracted.44

37 On the events surrounding 774 see S. Gasparri, ed., 774: ipotesi su una transizione: atti del Seminario di Poggibonsi, 16-18 febbraio 2006 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2008); H. Belting, “Studien zum beneventanischen Hof im 8. Jahrhundert,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 16 (1962): 141-193. 38 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 14. 39 For a detailed overview of the evolution of the Lombard Principality of Benevento during the eighth and ninth centuries, especially the prevalence of infighting between Lombard princes, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 2- 11. 40 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 5; M. Rotili, “Benevento e il suo territorio: persistenze e trasformazioni,” in I Longobardi dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento, 1:827-79; Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 17-29. 41 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 10. 42 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 27-35. 43 Anderson, “Historical Memory”; On literacy in Lombard Italy, Everett, Literacy in Lombard Italy. 44 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 68. 14

Contributing further to the political fragmentation throughout Campania during this period, were the coastal duchies of Naples, Gaeta, and Amalfi. After 839, partially as a result of the Beneventan civil war, these duchies were severed from the control of the Lombard Principality. Naples, Amalfi, and Gaeta were first nominally under the control of the Byzantine Empire in the ninth century but, by the tenth century, they were all but autonomous entities. Yet, because of their prime location along the Campanian coastline, which offered rich opportunities for trade, Naples, Gaeta, and Amalfi were continuously the object of Lombard (and later Norman) ambitions and stood politically and culturally between Latin, Muslim, and Byzantine influence.45

Another factor that brought instability throughout southern Italy during the ninth and tenth centuries were the Muslim invasions. The year 827 marked the first Muslim invasion of the island of Sicily. On the mainland of southern Italy, Muslim lords established strongholds in

Apulia, in the cities of (846-860) and Bari (847-871).46 In Campania, the Muslim rulers made themselves known through frequent raiding. While urban territories like Bari were impacted, monastic communities were also often the targets of these invasions because of their great wealth. For instance, the monasteries of San Vincenzo al Volturno and Montecassino were both devastated in the 880s. The monks were sent into exile and lived in Capua, only to return to their monasteries years later. The community of San Vincenzo returned home only in 914 while the monks of Montecassino returned from Capua in 950.47 Eventually, the autonomous coastal duchies along the Campanian coastline, like Naples and Amalfi, struck up tenuous alliances with the Muslims of Sicily through the course of the ninth century. These alliances added further tension to an already fraught political scene, especially between the coastal duchies and the Pope in Rome, who ardently resisted the presence of Muslim rulers in Italy.48

45 For more on Naples, Gaeta, and Amalfi, see Kreutz, Before the Normans, 71-93; U. Schwarz, Amalfi im frühen Mittelalter: 9.-11 Jahrhundert: Untersuchungen zur Amalfitaner Überlieferung (Tübingen: M. Niemeyer, 1978), 13- 58; P. Skinner, Medieval Amalfi and its Diaspora, 800-1250 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013) and Family Power in Southern Italy: The Duchy of Gaeta and its Neighbours, 850-1139 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995); J. Caskey, Art and Patronage in the Medieval Mediterranean: Merchant Culture in the Region of Amalfi (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004); O. Banti, ed. Amalfi, Genova, Pisa, Venezia: la cattedrale e la città nel medioevo (Ospedaletto: Pacini, 1993); La chiesa di Amalfi nel medioevo: atti del convegno internazionale di studi per il millenario dell'arcidiocesi di Amalfi (Amalfi: CCSA, 1996). 46 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 10. 47 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 18. 48 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 57-62. 15

The Muslim incursions throughout southern Italy reduced in frequency under the pressure of the allies of the Latin Church, including Emperor Louis II, who engaged in a campaign against Muslim strongholds in southern Italy in the late ninth century. In addition to imperial pressure, Muslim lords also withdrew from the mainland as a result of the expansion of the Byzantine empire. Beginning in the late ninth century, the Byzantine empire began to reclaim its former southern Italian territories, those lost in the Greco-Gothic wars of the sixth century. Pushing Muslims further towards Campania (which contributed to the wave of Muslim invasions there in the 880s), the Byzantine empire took land that belonged to the Lombards, especially in Apulia. During the course of the late ninth and tenth century, the Byzantine empire established the territory known as the thema of Longobardia, made up largely of land in Apulia that had been usurped from the Lombards, whose power had retracted under the pressure of internal conflict. The Byzantines would remain in power in Apulia through much of the eleventh century, until they were ousted by the new Norman lords.

By reclaiming large areas of territory in Apulia and even stretching into Campania and Benevento itself, the Byzantine empire further defined the political boundaries of southern Italy, establishing a (still shifting but more pronounced) line between the Lombards and the

Byzantines.49 Gaining momentum in the tenth century, the Byzantine resurgence also contributed further to the decline and retraction of Lombard authority across southern Italy. The Lombard principalities, still fragmented, made efforts to stall the expansion of the Byzantine empire. However, the principalities lacked centralized authority and were unable to stop the loss of their own territories that were geographically distanced from the main urban centers of power, like Benevento and Salerno. Over the course of the tenth century and into the eleventh, the Lombard principalities retracted into these fortified, urban centers, each ruled by their own distinct dynasty.50

49 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 10-1; Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 22-3. 50 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 11. Despite political fragmentation, there is evidence for continued prosperity in the Lombard cities of Benevento, Capua, and Salerno, even as the principalities continued to lose land outside their urban centers during the early tenth century. For instance, tenth-century records copied into the twelfth-century chronicle of the monastery of San Vincenzo al Volturno suggest that there was an agricultural surge in the regions surrounding these cities. See Kreutz, Before the Normans, 68. 16

As the tenth century drew to a close in southern Italy, the political divisions between the Lombard principalities in Campania persisted, setting the stage for the process known as incastellamento, the establishment of fortified settlements during the eleventh and twelfth centuries.51 Also during the late tenth century, the Muslim armies made a brief reappearance in

Apulia, attacking the city of Bari in 988.52 Meanwhile, the Byzantine empire continued to exercise control over most of Apulia despite some rebellions.53 After the fragmentation and upheavals of the past two hundred years, southern Italy was on the cusp of new changes that would come in the eleventh century with the arrival of the Normans.

2.2 The Normans of Southern Italy

When the Normans arrived as pilgrims and mercenaries in the first half of the eleventh century, they found a region fragmented culturally, politically, and religiously.54 The Normans were first hired as mercenaries by the Lombards but they gradually accrued land and power at the expense of the Byzantine empire, Muslim lords, and, eventually, the Lombards themselves. Over the course of the eleventh century, Normans established lordships over isolated territories, like

Aversa and Melfi.55 In 1053, two such Norman lords, Robert Guiscard (1015-1085) and Richard Quarrel (d. 1078) joined forces against a papal-backed coalition, which was aimed at eradicating the Normans from Italy. The battle that ensued resulted in papal recognition of the of the Norman rulers. At the council of Melfi in 1059, an official alliance between the papacy and the Normans was reached. Here, Robert Guiscard swore fealty to Pope Nicholas II and received a ducal title from the Pope, which ultimately legitimized his land acquisitions.56 The pope’s

51 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 45. 52 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 11. 53 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 28-9, 45-6. 54 On the arrival of the Normans and the Norman era in general notable studies include, J. J. Norwich, The Normans in the South, 1016-1130 (London: Longmans, 1967); Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard; J. France “The Occasion of the Coming of the Normans to Southern Italy,” Journal of Medieval History 17 (1991): 185-205; F. Chalandon, Histoire de la domination normande en Italie méridionale et en Sicile (New York: B. Franklin, 1960); Martin, Italies Normandes XIe-XIIe siècles (Paris: Hachette, 1994); Taviani-Carozzi, La Terreur du Monde: Robert Guiscard et la conquête normande en Italie (Paris: Fayard, 1996); von Falkenhausen, “I ceti dirigenti prenormanni al tempo della costituzione degli stati normanni nell’Italia meridionale e in ,” in Forme di potere e struttura sociale in Italia nel medioevo, ed. G. Rossetti Pepe (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1977), 321-77; Loud, “Norman Traditions in Southern Italy,” in Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage, ed. S. Burkhardt and T. Forester (London and New York: Routledge, 2013), 35-56; K. Hurlock and Oldfield, eds. Crusading and Pilgrimage in the Norman World (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2015); Loud, Latin Church. 55 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 74-6. 56 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 15. 17

reluctant acceptance of the Normans, according to Graham Loud, was primarily born out of pragmatism. The pope had come to terms with the reality that the Normans would remain in southern Italy as a strong ruling presence. Further, from the pope’s perspective, the Normans were a useful ally, who would help carry out ecclesiastical reform and reorganization throughout southern Italy.57

Backed by the pope as the Duke of Apulia and Calabria, Guiscard continued to lead incursions into Byzantine-held territories throughout Apulia. In the second half of the eleventh century, the Normans conquered much of Calabria and major cities in Apulia. For instance, under Guiscard’s leadership, Norman troops captured Bari in the siege of 1068-1071. Bari had been a capital city for the Byzantine thema in Apulia. Thus, the siege of Bari brought Byzantine rule in Apulia to an end after almost two centuries in power. The Normans also infiltrated Lombard territories. The Lombard city of Capua was besieged in 1058 by the Norman lord Richard of , who forced the city’s surrender through a blockade. Richard then usurped the princely authority. By assuming the titles of the former Lombard princes, Richard of Aversa legitimized both his new control over the city itself as well as the extension of his rule in the surrounding region.58 Soon after, in 1076, Guiscard took Salerno from the Lombards. Pressure faced from the Norman lords also, in part, pushed the Lombard prince of Benevento to submit the city to the pope in 1077 although the city never fell to the Normans.59 Nevertheless, especially under the leadership of Guiscard, the Normans were able to take control over much of Apulia, Calabria, Sicily, and a portion of Campania.

Despite the relatively rapid pace of their takeover, the Norman conquest of southern Italy was not a unified process. Instead, as Valerie Ramseyer has noted, the Norman conquest of southern

Italy was more akin to an infiltration.60 In total, there were only about 2,500 Norman immigrants to southern Italy by the mid twelfth century.61 Guiscard himself had only about sixty knights when he advanced into the region of Mileto in 1057.62 Thus, when they took control over

57 Loud, Latin Church, 137. 58 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 127. 59 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 15. 60 Ramseyer, Transformation, 122-3. 61 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 16. 62 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 126. 18

territories, the Normans had to make use of the political and administrative systems in place before their arrival. In contrast to the Norman Conquest of England, the Norman reliance on pre- existing social and administrative structures in southern Italy resulted in continuity between the pre- and post-Norman era administrative and social systems; much of the political and cultural diversity that had existed prior to their consolidation of power persisted.63 For instance, after Robert Guiscard took control in parts of southern Campania, he left the local nobility intact. Therefore, although they were submitted to the authority of a Norman lord, the descendants of the Lombard rulers continued in many circumstances to hold power over their cities and towns.64 Further, for the most part, the Normans of southern Italy did not import French systems of governance or cultural programs in the communities they conquered. Adding to this continuity, many of the Norman soldiers married native southern Italian women. For instance Robert

Guiscard himself married the Lombard Prince Gisulf II of Salerno’s sister, Sichelgaita in 1058.65

While large-scale cultural and political change cannot be attributed to the presence of the Normans, their presence in southern Italy hastened significant transitions across the region. Beyond contributing to the decline of Byzantine, Lombard, and Muslim power throughout southern Italy, the Normans helped support the transformation of the ecclesiastical landscape during the eleventh and twelfth centuries. It is to some of these changes that we now, briefly, turn.

2.3 The Latin Church in Southern Italy, c. 850-1150

There have been several scholarly works in recent years devoted to the large-scale transformations that the Church in southern Italy underwent during this period. Notably, Graham Loud, Valerie Ramseyer, and Paul Oldfield have focused their attention on the broad transitions from the highly regionalized “Christianities” of the ninth, tenth, and early eleventh centuries

63 On continuity between southern Italy during the Lombard and Norman periods, see P. Oldfield, City and Community in Norman Italy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009); G. Loud, “Continuity and Change in Norman Italy: The Campania during the eleventh and twelfth centuries,” Journal of Medieval History 22.4 (1996): 313-43. 64 Ramseyer, Transformation, 123. 65 On Norman assimilation and identity in southern Italy, see Drell, “Cultural Syncretism and Ethnic Identity: The Norman Conquest of Southern Italy and Sicily,” Journal of Medieval History 25 (1999): 187-202; Loud, “The Gens Normannorum: Myth or Reality?,” Proceedings of the Fourth Battle Conference on Norman Studies 1981, ed. R.A. Brown (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1982), 104-16. 19

towards a more centralized and unified Latin Church by the mid-eleventh century.66 These scholars have appreciated that, much like the political systems in southern Italy prior to the mid- eleventh century, the religious landscape of southern Italy was fragmented, characterized more by diversity and plurality than by unified system of belief. Religious practice, expressions of spirituality, and ecclesiastical organization depended largely on local traditions.67

Since inventiones were composed in predominantly Latin Christian communities, the evolution of the Latin Church will be one of our main subthemes in this dissertation. However, it is important to recall that Latin and Greek Christians lived side by side with Jewish and Muslim communities in southern Italy. The diverse nature of southern Italy is thus reflected in many of the sources we will examine. Further, even as the influence of the Latin Church (especially the influence of the pope) increased throughout the region during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the region was by no means homogenized. Much of the cultural, religious, and political diversity that existed in the ninth and tenth centuries persisted and this persistence is well illustrated in the inventiones we will be reading.

Three underlying historical factors that defined the Church in southern Italy between the ninth and twelfth centuries will be discussed here. First, the region’s bond with Rome prior to the eleventh century; second, the varied and local nature of ecclesiastical organizations and, related to this, the role of monasteries in southern Italy; finally, the roots of papal reform and reorganization, which took hold in the tenth century and progressed into the eleventh century. Despite the large-scale changes that occurred on the ecclesiastical landscape of southern Italy, like the political changes we discussed above, the process of reorganization and reform took place for the most part on a local scale and varied from location to location. The following factors are only intended to sketch the vast number of changes (and continuities) that occurred in southern Italy between the ninth and twelfth centuries.

The relationship between the papacy and southern Italy contributed to the diverse nature of the Church in the region prior to the year 1000. In the sixth century, (520-604) sent missionaries to southern Italy, established dioceses and was involved in the management of daily

66 Loud, Latin Church; Ramseyer, Transformation; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage. 67 Ramseyer, Transformation, 7-9. 20

affairs of Christian communities across the region.68 However, the connection with Rome declined beginning in the seventh century. Among other factors, scholars often attribute the lack of connection between Rome and communities of southern Italy to the arrival of the Lombards.69 As the papacy lost key territories after the Lombard invasions, bishops lost their support from Rome. Further depopulation was due to economic decline and plague. Thus, dioceses were abandoned and disappeared (especially in Apulia) in the course of the seventh century and the diocesan network was fractured across the region.70

This separation from Rome and the politically, religiously, and culturally diverse nature of southern Italy contributed to the varied organization of the Church throughout the region during the ninth and tenth centuries. Unlike the to the north, church organization and episcopal power in Lombard-era southern Italy displayed a great deal of variety.71 The role of the bishop depended largely on local traditions and precedent. In Benevento, for instance, Lombard princes exercised ultimate authority over the Church, while bishops, although typically members of the princely family, were second in command over ecclesiastical affairs.72 In autonomous Naples, by contrast, the bishops tended to hold more sway over both ecclesiastical and civic affairs, and even acted dually at times as both bishop and duke. Bishop Athanasius II of Naples, for example, was also duke of Naples between 878 and 898. Still, elsewhere, episcopal power was weak, as in parts of Apulia, which was still recovering from a protracted period of

68 For early dioceses, see F. Lanzoni, Le diocesi d'Italia dalle origini al principio del secolo VII (An. 604): studio critico (Faenza: Stabilimento Grafico F. Lega, 1927), 262-3; K. Sessa, The Formation of Papal Authority in Late Antique Italy: Roman Bishops and the Domestic Sphere (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014); G. P. Bognetti, “La continuità delle sedi episcopali e l’azione di Roma nel regno longobardo,” Settimane 7.1 (1960): 415- 54. 69 Ramseyer, Transformation, 41. 70 Ramseyer, Transformation, 40. 71 On religious authority in Carolingian Italy, see the following studies: G. Vocino, “Under the Aegis of the Saints: Hagiography and Power in Early Carolingian Northern Italy,” Early Medieval Europe 22.1 (2014): 26-52; M. Pellegrini, Vescovo e città: una relazione nel Medioevo italiano (secoli II-XIV) (Milan: B. Mondadori, 2009); J. M. Wallace-Hadrill, The Frankish Church (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001); Ramseyer, Transformation, 38. Wickham, Early Medieval Italy, 55-7. 72 On ecclesiastical authority in the Lombard principalities, key works include: L. Duchesne, “Les évêchés d’Italie et l’invasion lombarde”; the collection of essays in Longobardia e longobardi; Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 28-9; G. Vitolo, “Vescovi e diocesi,” in Storia del Mezzogiorno, ed. G. Galasso (Naples: Edizione del Sole, 1990), 3:75-151; L. Maio, “Davide Beneventano: un vescovo della Longobardia meridionale (782-796),” 56 (1983): 1-50; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” ch. 4; Galdi, “Principi, vescovi e santi in Salerno longobarda,” in I Longobardi dei ducati di Spoleto e di Benevento, 2:1429-49. 21

economic decline and depopulation.73 Indeed, some Apulian dioceses were only reestablished in the eleventh century.74 Throughout this dissertation, we will see that inventiones were used frequently to respond to the changing nature of episcopal authority across southern Italy, especially in order to define the bishop’s role in relation to that of a temporal authority.

Monastic practice in southern Italy prior to the mid-eleventh century was also characterized by diversity. Many institutions were heavily influenced by eremitic Greek traditions, with the Rule of St Benedict not gaining widespread popularity in southern Italy until the eleventh century.75 The large communities that did exist by the early Middle Ages, such as Montecassino and San Vincenzo al Volturno, enjoyed patronage from the Lombard lords, who valued these communities as important outposts of spirituality and authority.76 Since many areas of southern Italy outside of the urban centers like Benevento and Naples lacked strong episcopal authority during the Lombard period, these monasteries were often also the main sources of pastoral care for their surrounding territories and thus exerted considerable influence over their surroundings.77

Beginning in the late tenth and eleventh century, papal contact with the Church in southern Italy increased. The renewed bond between the pope and the Christian communities of southern Italy was due to a variety of factors, but the presence of the Greek Church and the Byzantine expansion in the tenth century played an important role. As the Byzantine empire increased its hold across the region, the papacy and the of the Greek Church competed over jurisdiction.78 The expansion of Byzantine authority pushed the pope to establish archdioceses in southern Italy, as strongholds of papal authority and to help claim important territories for the

Latin Church.79 In 966, for example, Pope John XIII elevated Capua to an archdiocese. Soon

73 On dioceses in early-medieval Apulia, see Martin, La Pouille and “Les modèles paléochrétiens dans l’hagiographie apulienne,” Bulletin de la Société nationale des antiquaires de France (1990): 67-86; A. Galdi, “Vescovi, santi e poteri politici nella Puglia settentrionale (secoli IX-XI),” in Bizantini, Longobardi e Arabi in Puglia nell'Alto Medioevo: atti del XX congresso internazionale di studi sull’alto Medioevo, ed. C. Damiano Fonseca, 341-363 (Spoleto: Fondazione Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 2012); Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery.” 74 Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery,” 175-9; Martin, La Pouille, 113-60. 75 This is one of the central observations made by Ramseyer in Transformation. 76 Ramseyer, Transformation, 45; H. Dormeier, Montecassino une die Laien im 11. Und 12 Jahrhundert (Stuttgart: A. Hiersemann, 1979). 77 Ramseyer, Transformation, 11. 78 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 11. 79 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” in The New Cambridge Medieval History, ed. T. Reuter (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 3:630-1. 22

after, in 969, Benevento was also elevated to the status of archdiocese.80 While this move was intended to expand the jurisdiction of the Latin Church throughout southern Italy in general, it also established a more defined diocesan network and created stronger links between archdioceses and the pope.81

The papacy’s involvement in southern Italy increased further after the pope and the new Norman rulers struck an alliance in the mid-eleventh century. As the Normans consolidated their authority, they helped to establish new dioceses and revive old ones in territories formerly controlled by Byzantines or Muslims or those that had been depopulated before or during the

Lombard era.82 In general, the focus on the episcopal networks during the eleventh and twelfth centuries created a more defined hierarchy, where bishops participated as the representatives of papal authority in their dioceses and could, in theory, rely on the pope for support in disputes.83

The Norman presence and the increased ties with Rome also impacted monastic communities in southern Italy and contributed to the use of the Rule of St Benedict throughout the region.84 While there was a period of hostility between the Normans and monastic communities like

Montecassino in the early eleventh century, this was relatively short-lived.85 By the middle of the eleventh century, Norman lords had begun to patronize existing monastic communities, like Montecassino and the abbey of Santa Sofia in Benevento, as well as founding new communities.

80 Spinelli, “Il papato e la riorganizzazione ecclesiastica della Longobardia meridionale,” in Longobardia e longobardi, 19-42. 81 Ramseyer, Transformation, 127; Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 630-1. 82 Ramseyer, Transformation, 127. 83 Ramseyer, Transformation, 127. 84 Loud, Latin Church, 430-93; the most comprehensive work on monasticism (with a focus on Montecassino) during the years following the Norman conquests remains, H.E.J. Cowdrey, The Age of : Montecassino, the Papacy and the Normans in the Eleventh and Early Twelfth Centuries (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983) but see the excellent collection of essays by Loud in Montecassino and Benevento in the Middle Ages (Aldershot: Variorium, 2000). 85 While Montecassino came to benefit greatly from the Norman lords of southern Italy, in the early years after their arrival, the Normans usurped the abbey’s lands. However, as Loud has cautioned, the hostilities faced by monastic communities in the early eleventh century were not wholly due to the presence of the Normans. Instead, local lords who were competing over land and power played a large role in adding to the challenges faced by monasteries to maintain their landed wealth. See Loud, Latin Church, 63-8. For an overview of the relationships between monasteries and the Lombard lords, see H. Houben, “Potere politico e istituzioni monastiche nella ‘Langobardia minor’ (secoli vi- x),” in Longobardia e longobardi, 177-98. On the relationship between the Normans and Benedictine monasteries, see especially Loud, “The Norman Counts of Caiazzo and the Abbey of Montecassino,” in Montecassino and Benevento in the Middle Ages and “Monastic Miracles in Southern Italy, c. 1040-1140,” Studies in Church History 41 (2005): 101-31. For female Benedictine monasteries, see A. Veronese, “Monasteri femminili in Italia settentrionale nell’Alto Medioevo. Confronto con i monasteri maschili attraverso un tentativo di analisi ‘statistica’,” Benedictina 34 (1987): 355-422. 23

For instance, Robert Guiscard himself was responsible for founding several Latin monasteries, such as St in Calabria in the early 1060s.86 As a result of Norman patronage, the monasteries following the Rule of St Benedict acquired land and churches throughout the region and thus exerted their own influence and wealth upon the fabric of monastic culture in southern

Italy, bringing it more closely in line with the papal ambitions as well.87 Whereas prior to the mid-eleventh century, monastic culture in southern Italy was marked by diversity, by the middle of the twelfth century, the Rule of St Benedict had become the rule followed by most communities. Some monastic communities, however, did not fare as well as others. San Vincenzo al Volturno, for instance, had begun a slow recovery from the tumult of the ninth century, including the exile of its monks in Capua, but never regained the wealth it once had. In the end, San Vincenzo was bypassed by the Norman patrons, who favored its neighbor, the abbey of Montecassino.

Despite these large-scale changes, the process of ecclesiastical reform in southern Italy cannot be attributed solely to the papacy, the Normans, or to the papal-Norman alliance.88 While the aforementioned factors hastened and promoted some of the transitions mentioned above, we will see in the chapters to follow that circumstances varied from location to location, from community to community. Further, through our study of the inventiones that were written, copied, and transmitted between the tenth and twelfth centuries, we can observe that, along with change, there was also a great deal of continuity. Change, in other words, did not occur overnight, and the arrival of the Normans and the reforms in the Church by no means created a rupture with the past. Instead, change often prompted communities to rethink their histories, through the writing of historical narrative, the copying and preservation of important charters and diplomata, and the composition and circulation of hagiography. But these representations of the past, as we shall see, were not static. Quite the contrary, the histories remembered by many medieval communities was a matter of perception, the past was pliable so as to suit the needs of the contemporary. Because the past was ever present in the communities we will study throughout this dissertation, we will not approach the history of southern Italy in two distinct phases, the Lombard versus the Norman eras, the pre-reform period versus post-reform period.

86 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 268. 87 Loud, Latin Church, 431. 88 Ramseyer, Transformation, 112-3. 24

Instead, in the chapters to follow, especially those that span the eleventh and twelfth centuries, we will see that the systems and identities in place during the so-called “Lombard era” were in many ways still intact well into the gradual takeover by the Normans. The two periods, Lombard and Norman, overlapped. This overlap, as well as the desire to preserve the past in writing and worship, can be discerned easily in the inventiones of southern Italy.

Theoretical Contexts

The study of collective memory has been critical to understanding how inventiones functioned. Inventiones were often composed or copied years after the actual relic discovery occurred and thus illustrate how medieval communities manipulated the past and how contemporary concerns fused with memory. Furthermore, because these texts originated at the intersections of devotion, ritual, and local politics, this study places special emphasis on how inventiones reveal the extremely porous boundaries between the secular and sacred, between hagiography and historiography, in medieval society. Inventiones do not only reveal the local traditions of a cult, patterns of devotion, and the intersections of local and regional Christianities past and present. Like chronicles and cartularies, inventiones are also vital sources for mapping the influence and networks of persons and institutions.

While many scholars today consider the study of memory to be a worthwhile means of approaching the past, the study of collective memory only gained traction in the first half of the twentieth century.89 It is now a well-known fact that memory was produced by communities through social and cultural influences and it is therefore useful to study how they remembered their pasts in order to gain a fuller understanding of these communities.

89 In the 1930s, Maurice Halbwachs pioneered the study of memory. Among his works, see M. Halbwachs, Les cadres sociaux de la mémoire (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1952), Le mémoire collective (Paris: A. Michel, 1997), and La topographie légendaire des évangiles en terre sainte (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1941); K. Baker, “Memory and Practice,” Representations 11 (1985): 134-64; J. Assmann, “Kollektives Gedächtnis und kulturelle Identität,” in Kultur und Gedächtnis, eds. J. Assmann and T. Holscher (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1988). 9-19. Other foundational works on collective memory include, P. Nora, Les lieux de la mémoire (Paris: Gallimard, 1984), which also separates historical and social memory; P. Connerton, How Societies Remember (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989); Geary provides an excellent overview of the scholarship on the study of memory. See Geary, Phantoms of Remembrance: Memory and Oblivion at the End of the First Millennium (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 9-16 see also Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 11-5. 25

Despite growing scholarly interest in the role of collective memory, a divide between the study of collective memory and the study of history nevertheless remained. As Spiegel notes, scholars tended to view history as objective and intentional while memory was transient, elusive, and organic.90 Patrick Geary suggested that such a dichotomy between memory and history is misleading. To place a divide between collective or social memory and history is to ignore “the social and cultural context of the historian.”91 Rather, history and collective memory are parts of the same process of constructing the past. This is true especially for many medieval authors, who relied upon the memory of the past to legitimize their work. Through the process of remembering and constructing the past, “written and oral memory blend together, as oral traditions are incorporated into a written text, which is then circulated among those responsible for collective oral memory.”92 Memory, in other words, informed both oral and written history and vice versa.93 From Geary’s perspective, medieval historians, so heavily influenced by collective and individual memory, wrote in order to shape collective memory in their contemporaries. In this continuum, all forms of memory (collective, individual, historical) had a purpose in recounting but also shaping the past. To ignore the “filters” of memory, ultimately widens the gaps in our knowledge about how medieval communities documented the past but also how they conceived of themselves as their shaping of the past was directly linked with their own present needs.94

Therefore, in recent decades, scholars have increasingly appreciated the role that memory played for medieval authors and the construction of the past.95 Many have moved away from the

90 G. Spiegel, “Memory and History: Liturgical Time and Historical Time,” History and Theory 41 (2002): 149-50. 91 Geary, Phantoms, 11. 92 Geary, Phantoms, 11. 93 Geary, Phantoms, 12-3. 94 Geary, Phantoms, 7, 12; On this perspective, see also J. Fentress and C. Wickham, Social Memory (New York: American Council of Learned Societies, 2012). On the relationship between oral and written history, see M. Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record: England 1066-1307 (Malden: John Wiley & Sons, 2013) and B. Stock, The Implications of Literacy: Written Language and Models of Interpretation in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1983). 95 Other notable examples include W. Goffart, Narrators of Barbarian History (A.D. 550-800): Jordanes, Gregory of Tours, , and Paul the Deacon (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988); M. Carruthers, The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990); S. Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity: Liturgy and History at the Imperial Abbey of Farfa, 1000-1125 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006); A. Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past: Monastic Foundation Legends in Medieval Southern France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995); C. Bouchard, Rewriting Saints and Ancestors: Memory and Forgetting in France, 500-1200 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015); R. McKitterick, Perceptions of the Past in the Early Middle Ages (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 2006); S. Kahn-Herrick, Imagining the Sacred Past: Hagiography and Power in Early Normandy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007); K. Ugé, Creating the

26

question “what happened?” towards “how was the past perceived?” when studying written accounts of history.96 This line of questioning illustrates that medieval communities had a much more complicated relationship with the past than was initially understood by scholars.97 As Bouchard and Geary have noted, medieval society was traditional in the sense that tradition of the past legitimized and shaped the present.98 Communities rooted their identities in the

“inheritance of the past.”99 Yet, the inheritance of the past came inevitably from a patchwork variety of sources, including oral traditions, charters and diplomas, liturgical sources, hagiographies, chronicles, and so on. These sources, in turn, could be rearranged, augmented, forgotten by the communities that inherited them in order to help shape tradition.100 In other words, the past could be shaped by the present as much as the present was shaped by the past.101

In addition to the scholarship of Constance Bouchard and Patrick Geary, Amy Remensnyder’s study on monastic foundation legends of medieval France has, in particular, helped shape my methodologies.102 Remensnyder has shown how several monastic communities looked to their foundation legends as they came under stress as a way to reinforce identities, establish continuity, and make sense of the present. Specifically, Remensnyder demonstrates how monastic communities looked back on the temporal lords and patrons of the past in their legendary sources and how, through this process, two landscapes in memory ran parallel: the sacred and the secular.103 Remensnyder’s work also stresses that these legendary sources, inclusive of charters and hagiography, were born not only of imagination but also belief: “As products of imaginative memory, monastic foundation legends belong in the realm of what was believed to be true, rather than what was seen to be fiction.”104 While medieval southern Italy

Monastic Past in Medieval Flanders (Woodbridge: York Medieval Press, 2005); Anderson, “Historical Memory;” A. Doležalová, ed., The Making of Memory in the Middle Ages (Leiden: Brill, 2010). 96 Bouchard, Rewriting, 3; Geary, Phantoms, 10-6; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 11-5. 97 On positivism and the study of memory and medieval historiography in general, see Spiegel, “Memory and History,” 149-51. For examples, see B. Lacroix, L'historien au Moyen Age (Montreal: Institut d'études médiévales, 1971); D. Hay, Annalists and Historians: Western Historiography from the Eighth to the Eighteenth Centuries (London: Meuthen, 1977). 98 Bouchard, Rewriting, 2. 99 Geary, Phantoms, 8. 100 Geary, Phantoms, 8-9. 101 Geary, Phantoms, 8. 102 Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past. 103 Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 7. 104 Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 2. 27

underwent very different changes from southern France, the regions share in common the impulse to return to the remote figures and legends of the past. Thus, throughout the following chapters we will see how communities in southern Italy turned to their own foundation legends, their temporal patrons, , and saints in order to creatively imagine their past.

As in Remensnyder’s work, the increased attention to the role of memory in scholarship has helped to lessen the conceptual gap between sources that represent “myth” and those that represent “history.” Forgeries, for instance, are a key part of understanding historical memory because they reflect “the past their composers would have liked to remember.”105 To study forgery is to study how medieval communities utilized, arranged, and altered the sources they inherited to serve their present needs. Similarly, hagiographies are also vital tools for understanding perceptions of the past;106 while they are often reliant on scripture, trope, and symbol, and their intended purpose was, above all, to praise and the saints, hagiographical sources nevertheless intertwine local histories within sacred time and, for this reason, are now considered to be rich sources for the study of both memory, history, and the societies that produced them.107 Hagiographies were as much the terrain of the historian as they were of the cantor.

Inventiones, as a subgroup of hagiography, are particularly well-suited to demonstrate the role of memory in the writing of history. By their very nature, the subject matter of inventiones is oftentimes memory itself. From the revelatio to the inventio, from the translatio to the dedicatio, inventiones document and enact the process of forgetting, remembering, and discovering the saintly dead during a time when the formation of collective memory helped to stabilize communities facing nearly constant political change between the tenth and twelfth centuries. The inventio narrative is, by nature, a witness to the process whereby aspects of collective memory

105 Bouchard, Rewriting, 2. 106 Works on hagiography and memory include Head, Hagiography and the Cult of Saints; Khan-Herrick, Imagining the Sacred Past; Geary, Furta Sacra and Living with the Dead; D. Falvay, “Memory and Hagiography: The Formation of the Memory of Three Thirteenth-Century Female Saints,” in The Making of Memory, 347-64. On hagiography, memory, and southern Italy, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” and L. Berto, “Oblivion, Memory, and Irony in Medieval Montecassino: Narrative Strategies of the ‘Chronicles of St. Benedict of Cassino’,” Viator 38.1 (2007): 45-61.

107 See Lifschitz, “Beyond Positivism and Genre,” 95-114. On the fluid boundaries of hagiographical and historical writing in general, see the excellent collection of essays, R. Maxwell, ed., Representing History, 900-1300: Art, Music, History (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2010), especially Spiegel, “Introduction,” 1-17. 28

were revived, took shape, and used for present needs. When the community discovered a relic, elements of a long-forgotten past were recalled (or “invented”), so that they could help a community in its present circumstances. Furthermore, the very process of writing and recording these relic discoveries was steeped in memory, both communal and individual. Wishing to emphasize the importance of their saint, authors commonly invoked the phrase “ducitur ad memoriam,” “to bring to mind” or “to recall,” as their very reason for putting pen to parchment. Ultimately, the study of memory offers a new interpretive context for inventiones by demonstrating how these sources, rooted in memory, were ways of (re)constructing the past and helping shape the present. In inventiones, communities turned to the legends, sources, and memories inherited from the past in order to provide stability and continuity in a time of change.

With the study of memory as a subtheme, this dissertation also provides a more holistic cultural context for inventiones. Rather than viewing these sources as disembodied texts, I examine the wider political, literary, codicological, and liturgical contexts from which they emerged. As Bouchard notes regarding hagiographical sources in general, texts themselves may survive only on parchment, but they constitute an echo of what must have been a noisy conversation regarding relics, patronage, competition, and conflict.108 A hagiographical narrative, for instance, may survive today only in written form, but it is important to recall that the vast majority of its medieval audience would have had a much more varied experience of a hagiographical legend. Perhaps, for instance, they heard it sung aloud during the Office, where they were surrounded by other elements of liturgical ritual (sights, sounds, smells). The hagiographical text that survives today may, in all likelihood, have been the result of a tale passed down orally long before it was ever written down.109 In order to retrace these conversations, therefore, in cases where it is possible, I situate the inventiones within their liturgical framework. Indeed, many inventiones were composed for use in the sacred liturgy. There, they were brought to life through the collective participation in the rituals surrounding the celebrations of relic discoveries. This dissertation, therefore, considers both how the inventio was codified and transmitted within liturgical manuscripts as well as how the inventio narrative represented liturgical moments from

108 Bouchard, Rewriting, 5. 109 Bouchard, Rewriting, 5. For more on the line between orality and literacy in hagiographical narrative see R. Koopmans, Wonderful to Relate: Miracle Stories and Miracle Collecting in High Medieval England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011). 29

the past. From this perspective, we gain insight into how liturgy was a vehicle for writing and transmitting history.110

In other cases, we will see that the inventio narrative performed rather a role outside the liturgy or adjacent to the liturgical culture of a community. Included within a monastic chronicle, for instance, the inventio narrative was then more directly related to the composition of history in a traditional sense yet simultaneously evocative of the devotional and spiritual life of a community. In other cases still, the inventio communicated messages held in charters and diplomas, underscoring the fluidity between historical and liturgical sources for medieval communities and revealing that a sharp distinction between genres is misleading and unhelpful when attempting to discern the process of constructing history and identity in medieval communities. Ultimately, the writing of history and the expression of memory were not confined to any one medium and a full evaluation of these inventiones therefore demands a holistic approach.

The present study is inspired by and indebted to a number of scholars who have contributed to the study of the intersections of devotion, ritual, and history in medieval communities. Margot Fassler’s work on the cult of the at Chartres and Susan Boynton’s research on the liturgies of the abbey of Farfa have, in recent years, pioneered the study of liturgy as a way to write history.111 In addition to these scholars, Benjamin Brand’s study of the liturgical music surrounding relic cults in medieval Tuscany has further illuminated the need to consider the liturgical context of relic cults.112 Similarly, Charles Hilken’s research on the /necrology of the community of Santa Maria del Gualdo Mazzocca has demonstrated how a liturgical manuscript communicated the identity and history of a monastic community in twelfth-century Benevento.113 Nino Zchomelidse has recently provided an important reminder that the art and architecture of southern Italy infused ritual with visual significance and played an

110 See the comments made by M. Fassler, in “The Liturgical Framework of Time,” in Representing History, 163. 111 M. Fassler, The Virgin of Chartres: Making History through Liturgy and the Arts (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010); Fassler and R. Baltzer, eds., The Divine Office in the Latin Middle Ages: Methodology and Source Studies, Regional Developments, Hagiography, Written in Honor of Professor Ruth Steiner (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); S. Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity. 112 B. Brand, Holy Treasure and Sacred Song: Relic Cults and their Liturgies in Medieval Tuscany (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014). 113 C. Hilken, Memory and Community in Medieval Southern Italy: The History, Chapter Book, and Necrology of Santa Maria del Gualdo Mazzocca (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 2008). 30

important role in identity-making.114 These scholars share in common the view that history, hagiography, and liturgy interacted with one another and that, in the words of Fassler, “local facts enshrined in liturgical readings remained to drive local histories with a special power.”115

This approach has held great implications for the present study of inventiones, which, as mentioned, were regularly reiterated in a liturgical context and were written to revisit the past -- besides, as well, the fundamental purpose of glorifying God and the saints. By taking into account the intersections of devotional practice and historical writing revealed by inventiones, it is possible to gain a broader perspective on the exercise of memory in medieval communities and how they conceived of themselves and the crises they were facing. Inventiones were a part of a matrix of sources that attempted to reimagine the past for the purpose of the present. Therefore, this dissertation observes the manners in which inventiones represent the many intersections between devotion and history, not only how devotional practices and sources were used to interpret and write history but also how inventiones, as spiritual and oftentimes liturgical sources, interacted with other modes of recording the past, like charters and monastic chronicles.116 These efforts of reconceptualizing history did not exist in isolation but communicated and built off one another, forming a web of memory that helped to explain and respond to contemporary circumstances.

Structure of the Dissertation

This dissertation is divided into four chapters, organized in a roughly chronological order based on the historical context which they examine. Chapter 1 studies the Translatio S. Sossii, composed in early tenth-century Naples by John the Deacon. John composed it to commemorate the discovery of the relics of St Sossius, a fifth-century martyr. This inventio served to unite the authority of the bishop of Naples, Stephanus III, with an ancient and saintly patron. At the time that John the Deacon wrote the Translatio, Bishop Stephanus was under the scrutiny of Rome and his city, Naples, faced pressure from the Lombard lords of Benevento. Therefore, John used

114 N. Zchomelidse, Art, Ritual, and Civic Identity in Medieval Southern Italy (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2014). See further the excellent collection of essays in R. Hankeln, ed., Political Plainchant?: Music, Text, and Historical Context of Medieval Saints’ Offices (Ottawa: Institute of Mediaeval Music, 2009). 115 Fassler, “Liturgical Framework,” 163. 116 Zchomelidse, Art, Ritual, and Civic Identity, 4. 31

the memory of St Sossius’ inventio in order to bolster Stephanus’ episcopal jurisdiction and the political autonomy of the duchy of Naples.

Chapter 2 deals with the discovery of the relics of St Pardus of Larino, documented in the Vita S. Pardi. This narrative was composed by the eleventh-century deacon of Larino, Radoinus. Between the tenth and eleventh centuries, Larino lay along a political frontier between the Lombard and Byzantine authorities. In the Vita, Radoinus used the discovery of Pardus’ relics and the history of the Beneventan church to articulate the identity of Larino as a diocese that shared a common past with Benevento and was rooted in allegiance to the Latin Church. This study includes, as an appendix, a new edition of the earliest extant recension of the Vita S. Pardi, held in the eleventh-century homiliary Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 6. This recension, which was unedited until now, helps to situate the Vita in a more precise codicological and liturgical context. Further, it provides new insight into the mentalities behind the compilation of liturgical manuscripts in eleventh-century Benevento.

Chapter 3 studies the Translatio S. Mercurii and the abbey of Santa Sofia in Benevento during the late eleventh and early twelfth century. Scholars have often treated the Translatio S. Mercurii in the context of the late eighth-century reign of the Lombard Prince Arichis II of Benevento because the narrative documents how Arichis himself discovered the relics of the Byzantine martyr, St Mercurius. My study, by contrast, examines the use of the Translatio in the context of the late eleventh- and twelfth-century community of Santa Sofia. I suggest that the text was copied and circulated through the abbey’s liturgy as a way to reformulate the memory of the past and aid the abbey in attracting patronage and support from neighboring authorities.

Chapter 4 is devoted to the twelfth-century chronicle from the monastery of San Vincenzo al Volturno. Here, I examine how the community incorporated narratives of discovery within its written history. Specifically, this chapter pays attention to the ways in which the chronicle represents a purposeful mingling of devotional and historical documentation and the role of inventiones within this collection of sources. The abbey faced considerable challenges in the course of the late eleventh and twelfth centuries, as its landed wealth decreased and competition with neighboring communities for patronage was fierce. Inventiones played a part in claiming the past and promoting the abbey’s spiritual prestige in its contemporary setting.

32

These case studies bring together varied settings, time periods, and communities to shed light on the function and evolution of the popular genre of inventiones. While this study is by no means exhaustive, it is my hope that the following chapters will contribute to the current scholarly conversations on how history was represented through a variety of mediums, how the past was malleable, and how inventiones, as a subgroup of hagiography, proved to be among the most fruitful measures to capture memory, identity, and history.

Chapter 1: Inventio and Identity in Tenth-Century Naples: The Translatio S. Sosii Introduction

This dissertation deals largely with sources composed in communities historically submitted to Lombard authority, like the city of Benevento, the Christian community of Larino, and the abbey of San Vincenzo. Nevertheless, we begin our examination of inventiones from southern Italy on the political periphery of the Lombard Principality. The autonomous status of the duchy of

33

Naples that led at times to a hostile relationship with the Lombard lords during the ninth and tenth centuries also shaped the historical memory and identity of the city.117

While politically independent from the Lombard princes during this time, Naples nevertheless was in frequent contact with these lords because of its close geographic proximity to the center of Lombard power in Benevento and its status as a wealthy and densely populated urban environment. By beginning with a source composed on the political periphery of the Lombard Principality, we see how political autonomy helped to shape the historical imagination revealed in the hagiography of Naples. In particular, this chapter studies how the figure of the Lombard prince was manipulated through the exercise of memory but also how, from the outside looking in, episcopal authority in the tenth century was set in sharp contrast to the memory of the Lombards. Beyond these specifics, as the earliest source examined in this dissertation, the Translatio S. Sosii will serve as a point of departure from which we will continue to encounter the enduring interest in the Lombard lords in inventiones of southern Italy and how the historical

117 For background on early medieval Naples see especially G. Cassandro, “Il ducato bizantino,” in Storia di Napoli, volume secondo: l’alto medioevo (Naples: Società editrice storia di Napoli, 1969), 1:3-307; The collection of essays by N. Cilento in Storia di Napoli, volume secondo, 2:641-735; Skinner, Family Power in Southern Italy, 27-146. For Neapolitan hagiography written during this period see Granier, “Naples aux IXe et Xe siècles,” 113-30; Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,”; Galdi, Santi, 286-99; Oldfield, Sanctity, 26; D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina,” 68-9; F. Dolbeau, “Le rôle des interprètes dans les traductions hagiographiques d’Italie du sud,” in Traduction et traducteurs au moyen âge, actes du colloque international du CNRS organisé à Paris, Institut de recherche et d'histoire des textes les 26-28 mai 1986, ed. Geneviève Contamine, (Paris: CNRS, 1989), 145-62. 34

memory of these authorities intersected with ritual and liturgy in order to creatively imagine the past.118

Map 1 Main locations mentioned in Chapter 1

The Translatio S. Sosii (BHL 4134-5)119 recounts the 906 discovery and translation of the relics of St Sosius. St Sosius was a fourth-century martyr and a companion of St Januarius, the patron saint of Naples.120 John the Deacon (c. 880- c. 907) of Naples, the author of the text, was asked to compose the Translatio by the Abbot John of Saint Severinus and Bishop Stephanus III of Naples (c. 898-906). In the prologue of the text, John wrote that after the repeated requests of the Abbot John to record the inventio of St Sosius, he was finally convinced by the bishop. According to the Translatio, Sosius’ relics were discovered in Misenum, a small settlement roughly thirty kilometers along the coast of Naples (Map 1), and brought to the monastery of Saint Severinus, located within the city of Naples. The discovery and translation of St Sosius was carried out by John the Deacon himself as well as several monks from Saint Severinus. Bishop

118 See Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, Introduction. Remensnyder’s work is not about kings per se but rather about how the memories of kings and patrons took shape in monastic sources. The present study takes a similar approach to the appearance of Lombard lords and ecclesiastical leaders in the inventiones of southern Italy. 119 John the Deacon, Translatio S. Sosii, ed. G. Waitz, in MGH Scriptores rerum Langobardicarum et Italicarum saec. VI-IX (henceforth MGH SRLI) (Hannover: Hahn, 1878), 459-462. 120 On Januarius, see Granier, “Napolitains et Lombards aux VIIIe-XIe siècles,” 436; U. Fasola, “Il culto a san Gennaro,” 67-9. 35

Stephanus III of Naples presided over the liturgical rituals associated with the translation and enshrinement of the relics.

John the Deacon was a member of the decanate of the episcopal cathedral of St Januarius in

Naples during the late ninth and early tenth century.121 In addition to the Translatio S. Sosii, John the Deacon is known for authoring other hagiographical works, such as the Translatio S. Severini, which he also composed at the request of Abbot John of Saint Severinus possibly for the monastery.122 The Translatio S. Severini tells of the translation of the relics of St Severinus to his eponymous monastery in 902, a few years before the discovery of Sosius’ relics.123 In addition to hagiography, most scholarship on John the Deacon also identifies him as the author of the second section of the Gesta episcoporum neapolitanorum.124 The Gesta is a chronological

121 For his signature, see Translatio S. Sosii, 460: “[Stephanus] accersivit me Johannem Sancti Januarii diaconum…” For John the Deacon’s life and writings see D. Mallardo, “Giovanni Diacono napolitano I: la vita,” Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia 2.3 (1948): 317-337; D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina,” 72. It is possible that John was a before becoming a deacon. See D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina,” 71. 122 John the Deacon, Translatio S. Severini (BHL 7658), ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 452-9. The general consensus is that John the Deacon is also author of a tenth-century Passio S. Januarii (BHL 4134). 123 For more on John the Deacon’s hagiography, see F. Dolbeau, “La vie latine de saint Euthyme: une tradition inédite de Jean, diacre napolitain,” Mélanges de l’Ecole française de Rome, Moyen Âge (henceforth MEFRM) 94 (1982): 315-35. 124 John the Deacon, Gesta episcoporum neapolitanorum, ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 426-36. For dating and authorship of the Gesta see L. Berto, “‘Utilius est veritatem proferre’: A Difficult Memory to Manage, Narrating the Relationships between Bishops and Dukes in Early Medieval Naples,” Viator 39.2 (2008): 49-64. The first section of the Gesta was written by an anonymous author and covers the first thirty-nine bishops of Naples until Calvus (d. 762). The second, which most scholars attribute to John the Deacon, covers the period from 762-872. Regarding the author of the Gesta, Berto does not make conjecture about the dates of John the Deacon’s life but does believe that John was coeval with the events he described in his portion of the Gesta. Since this portion ends in 872, Berto concludes that John the Deacon did not live past that date and therefore that John the Deacon the author of the Gesta is a separate figure from John the Deacon the hagiographer (see “Difficult Memory,” 51-3 and Berto, “The Others and Their Stories: Byzantines, Franks, Lombards, and Saracens in the Ninth-Century Neapolitan Narrative Texts,” The Medieval History Journal 19.1 (2016): 34-56.) On the other hand, D. Mallardo argues that John the Deacon was born around 880 and was the author of both the Gesta and the hagiographies in the early tenth century. Mallardo’s hypothesis is based on a mention of a named Auxilius in John’s Translatio S. Sosii, whom John identified as his tutor. In the text, John wrote that the abbot of St Severinus requested permission to move the body of St Sosius “per auxilium Domini sacerdotem” : “quia non fore canonicum aestimavit, absque pontificali licentia, cuius et iuris erat, illuc transmittere, per auxilium Domini sacerdotem, meae indolis praeceptorem, supplicando direxit domino Stephano episcopo, quatenus si divina largitate donatus munere tanto tamque praeclaro fuisset permissu eius in suo monastero collocaretur.” (Translatio S. Sosii, 460). Since John would have had to be quite young to have a tutor in the early tenth century, Mallardo hypothesized that he was only born around the 880s. There was indeed a priest in Naples named Auxilius, who was ordained in the by (891-96) and lived in Naples during the time that John wrote the Translatio S. Sosii (Mallardo, “La Vita,” 319-20). For more on Auxilius the priest, see below pp.48-9. In agreement with Mallardo there is F. Savio, “Giovanni Diacono, biografo dei vescovi napoletani,” Atti della Reale Accademia delle scienze di Torino 50 (1914-1915): 311-12; Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:576; M. Fuiano, Spiritualità e cultura a Napoli nell'alto medioevo (Naples: Liguori, 1986), 38. Some scholars believe that John the Deacon

36

account of the bishops of Naples and is one of the primary sources for Neapolitan history during the ninth century. John the Deacon’s portion of the Gesta covers the bishops of Naples from Paul II (762-766) until Athanasius I (d. 872).

The Translatio S. Sosii has been considered a reactionary text composed in response to the theft of St Januarius’ relics from Naples by the Lombard Prince Sico. This is mainly because the first half of the Translatio tells of the friendship between St Januarius and St Sosius as well as their martyrdom under the Emperor Diocletian.125 St Januarius was a fourth-century bishop of Benevento, martyred in the persecution of 303-5 in . Januarius’ remains were translated into the catacombs of Naples in the fifth century by John I, bishop of Naples, and he is considered the primary patron of the city.126 However, during the siege of Naples led by the Lombard Prince Sico (817-832) in 830/1, Januarius’ relics were allegedly stolen from Naples and translated to Benevento by Sico himself. The translation of St Januarius is attested in two contemporary sources, an 832 epitaph for Prince Sico and a prose translatio, composed around

composed the Gesta in the late ninth century and the hagiographies in the early tenth century. See, Granier, “San Gennaro e suoi compagni nelle fonti dei secoli X-XII,” Campania sacra 37.1-2 (2007): 251-74 and Granier, “Le peuple devant les saints: la cité et le peuple de Naples dans les textes hagiographiques (fin IXe-début Xe s.),” in Peuples du Moyen Age: problèmes d'identification: séminaire, sociétés, idéologies et croyances au Moyen Age, eds. C. Carozzi and H. Taviani-Carozzi (Aix-en-Provence: Publications de l'Université de Provence, 1996), 137. 125 The primary source for the martyrdom of Januarius and his companions is the so-called Acta Vaticana (BHL 4115, 4116, 4117, 4118), in AASS September 4, 866-70. The Acta was likely composed between the eighth and ninth centuries. BHL 4115-4117 are held in many manuscripts, the earliest of which is Würzburg, Universitätsbibliothek, MS M.p.th.o.4, dated to the ninth century (see Poncelet, “Catalogus codicum hagiographicorum latinorum Bibliothecae Universitatis Wirziburgensis,” Analecta Bollandiana 32 (1913): 408-38.) Between the late ninth and twelfth century, several additional texts were added to the corpus on Januarius. The following originated from Naples: first, a tenth- century passio of St Januarius (BHL 4134), which makes up the first half of John the Deacon’s Translatio S. Sosii; second, the Legenda “falconiana” (BHL 4120-4123), which recounts the contents of the Acta Vaticana in homily form and is held in manuscripts dated to between the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; third, an anonymous Homilia de miraculis S. Januarii (BHL 4138), in AASS September 4, 884-8, which narrates ninth-century miracles performed in Naples by Januarius. This text has been dated to between the late ninth and tenth century; fourth, Januarius appears in the Miracula S. Agrippini (BHL 174-177), in AASS November 4, 118-128. This text was composed in phases between the mid-ninth and mid-tenth century; finally, Januarius appears in the eleventh-century Passio et translatio SS. Eutychis et Acutii auctore Raynerio (BHL 4137), ed. N. Falcone, in L’intera istoria della famiglia, vita, miracoli, traslazione e culto del glorioso martire San Gennaro vescovo di Benevento, cittadino e principal protettore di Napoli (Naples: Felice Mosca, 1713), 181-6. This text was composed by a cleric from Naples named Raynerius. For more on the Acta and its liturgical use see D. Ambrasi, “Gli ‘Atti Vaticani’ ianuariani nelle ‘Lectiones’ del ‘Breviarium monasticum’ cavese e del ‘Proprio napoletano’ del 1525,” in Studi ianuariani in occasione del VI centenario della prima notizia storica della liquefazione del sangue S. Gennaro (1389-1989), ed. D. Ambrasi and U. Dovere (Naples: Pontificia Facoltà dell’Italia Meridionale Sezione Tommaso d’Aquino, 1989), 293- 309. 126 For the fifth-century translation by Bishop John I of Naples, see John the Deacon, Gesta, 406: “Post triduum autem deposito corpore, neophitorum pompa prosequente, in eo oratorio, ubi manu sua dicitur condidisse beatissimum martyrem Ianuarium a Marciano sublato, et ipse parte dextra humatus quievit.” 37

831-9.127 These sources detailed the military prowess of Prince Sico, his power over the Church of Benevento, and the aspirations of the Lombards to take control over the city of Naples.128 If the dating of the Translatio S. Januarii is accurate, these sources predated John’s composition of the Translatio S. Sosii by more than half a century.129

Despite the gap in time between the translation of St Januarius and John’s composition of the Translatio S. Sosii, scholarship on the source has suggested that the Translatio S. Sosii was an attempt to preserve the sense that St Januarius remained the patron of Naples after his relics were stolen.130 The connection between Sts Januarius and Sosius in the Translatio S. Sosii maintained this continuity. While the theft of Januarius’ relics by the rival Lombards may have represented a loss to the city of Naples and John the Deacon’s knowledge of the Translatio S. Januarii is likely, the Translatio S. Sosii was not composed solely in response to this event. In all likelihood, the legend of this discovery emerged from a much more complex set of circumstances. Not only was the Translatio composed long after the theft of Januarius’ relics, Januarius’ patronage over Naples is not a central theme in the text nor is there sufficient evidence in the text to relate that the loss of Januarius’ relics was still considered a travesty for the city in the early tenth century. Rather, John the Deacon seems also to have promoted the memory of St Sosius in response to other challenges faced by the duchy of Naples and, more specifically, threats to the legitimacy of his bishop, Stephanus III. In doing so, I argue that the Translatio was composed more in order to validate and articulate the authority of Bishop Stephanus III at a point when his status as bishop

127 Epitaphium Siconis principis, ed. E. Dümmler, in MGH Antiquitates, Poetae Latini medii aevi (Berlin: Weidmann, 1884), 2:649-51. A photograph of the epitaph can be found in A. Silvagni, Monumenta epigraphica christiana saeculo XIII antiquiora quae in Italiae finibus adhuc extant (Vatican city: Pontificium Institutum Archaeologiae Christianae, 1943), vol. 4, fasc. 2, Beneventum, tab. 3. For a detailed analysis of the epitaph as well as other epitaphs composed during the Sician dynasty, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 67-75; N. Gray, “The Paleography of Latin Inscriptions in the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Centuries in Italy,” Papers of the 16 (1948): esp. 123-39. The Translatio SS. Januarii, Festi et Desiderii (BHL 4140) is edited in AASS September 4, 889-891. The text is held in several manuscripts. The earliest of these date to the late eleventh century. There is Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, ff. 195v-200. See J. Mallet and A. Thibaut, Les manuscrits en écriture bénéventaine de la Bibliothèque capitulaire de Bénévent (Turnhout: Brepols, 1984-1997) 1:111-121. Second, Rome, Vaticano Latino, MS 6074, ff. 166v-168v. See Poncelet, Catalogus codicum hagiographicorum latinorum bibliothecae Vaticanae (Brussels: Socios Bollandianos, 1910), 169. 128 Galdi, “Quam si urbem illam suae subdiderit: la traslazione delle reliquie di San Gennaro a Benevento tra istanze politiche, agiografia e devozione,” Campania sacra 37 (2006): 223-242. 129 The dating is based on several clues within the text. First, the author attests to the Siege of Naples in 830-831 which provides the terminus post quem. Since the text depicts Sico in a positive light, something that would not have happened by the time of the Radelcian dynasty, it was most likely composed before Sicard’s assassination in 839 in Benevento. For more on the dating, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 210-15. 130 Granier, “San Gennaro e suoi compagni,” 251-74 and “Napolitains et Lombards,” 436-7. 38

was challenged by the current reigning pope and the duchy of Naples had recently undergone upheaval from the Lombard and Saracen invasions. John the Deacon used the memories from the recent past, notably those of former bishops and the ninth-century Lombard princes, Sico and Sicard, in order to combat the challenges facing his embattled bishop in the early tenth century.

Naples in the ninth and early tenth century

In order to contextualize the Translatio S. Sosii, three overarching historical circumstances will be considered. First, the autonomous political position of the duchy of Naples in the ninth and tenth centuries had a strong impact not only on the internal administration of the city but also on the city’s relationship with neighboring authorities, like the Beneventan Lombards, as well as the pope in Rome. These relationships, in turn, likely influenced John’s depiction of the prestige and spiritual identity of Naples in the Translatio. Second, and related to the political autonomy of the duchy of Naples, is the elevated position of the bishop in the administrative fabric of Naples during the ninth and tenth centuries. The role of the bishop as a spiritual core of the city surfaced especially in John’s depiction of the liturgical ceremonies surrounding the discovery and enshrinement of Sosius’ relics. Third, starting in the late ninth century, Bishop Stephanus III, a main character in the Translatio, faced accusations from the papacy that challenged the authenticity of his consecration as bishop. Scholarship on the Translatio has not yet acknowledged this connection between Stephanus’ conflicts with Rome and the composition of the Translatio, but it seems likely that such challenges to Stephanus’ legitimacy shaped John the Deacon’s depiction of the bishop and episcopal power in the Translatio.

During the ninth and tenth centuries, Naples was influenced both by the Byzantine empire and the Beneventan Lombards. At the start of the ninth century, Naples was nominally under the authority of Byzantium, submitted to the Byzantine Sicilian patriciate.131 Byzantine control, however, did not influence the overall administration and governance of Naples by the late ninth century. For example, there were no Byzantine officials in Naples, as there were in Byzantine- controlled territories in Apulia during the ninth century, and the election of dukes took place without Byzantine interference.132 This arrangement made Naples more or less an autonomous

131 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 15. 132 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 15. 39

political entity. Dukes were chosen locally and the duchy operated without interference of the

Byzantine empire or indeed any other overarching authority.133

Autonomy aside, because of its location along the coast, Naples was an attractive target for the Lombard rulers. As a result of Lombard invasions, the territory to the north and east of Naples was significantly reduced during the ninth century.134 The Lombard Prince Sico (817-832) and his son Prince Sicard (832-839) were especially aggressive in their pursuit to conquer Naples. Evidence of this can be seen on Prince Sico’s epitaph from 832, where the theme of Lombard dominance over Naples is central.135 The epitaph reads that Sico, “using the strength of his own men, pounded the walls [of Naples] with a battering ram, until the faction hostile to him fell conquered.”136 In 836, Sico’s successor, Prince Sicard, issued a treaty between Naples and the Lombards in Benevento, known as the Pactum Sicardi. In this treaty, Sicard asserted his status as the principal authority over Naples and instituted laws that limited Naples’ ability to trade.137 In the late ninth- or early tenth-century Gesta, the Neapolitan perception of the Lombards is generally negative. For example, the Gesta depicts the Beneventans as “antiqui hostis instinctu”

(“natural-born and ancient enemies”).138 The Lombard princes, Sico and Sicard, are depicted as evil men and Sicard’s actions in particular are portrayed as a “mad fury.”139 Despite the rather negative depiction of Sico and Sicard in the Gesta episcoporum, there is no mention of the theft of St Januarius’ relics in the text.

133 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 73; Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:644, 700. The political autonomy notwithstanding, Byzantium nevertheless influenced Naples culturally. Greco-Byzantine identities and forms of expression were a part of the city’s cultural fabric. For example, from an early point there were both Greek and Latin clergy as well as monks. In addition to this, the liturgy was celebrated in both Greek and Latin. The Translatio S. Sosii even mentions the celebration of the Greek liturgy in Naples in the early tenth century (Translatio S. Sosii, 463). While the dual liturgical rites appears to have been a force for cultural harmony in Naples, we will see that in other parts of southern Italy, it was instead used to create cultural divides in competitions over power and land, especially in tenth- and eleventh- century Apulia. 134 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 19. 135 For a full translation of the epitaph see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 69. 136 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 69. 137 The Pactum Sicardi was written as a way to resolve territorial disputes, especially in relation to trade and mercantile conflicts between the Lombards and the Neapolitans. For the edition see, Pactum Sicardi, ed. H. Bluhme, in MGH Leges (Hannover: Hahn, 1898), 4:216-21; Kreutz, Before the Normans, 20-3. 138 John the Deacon, Gesta, 428. 139 For a lengthier discussion of the portrayal of Sico and Sicard in the Gesta, see Berto, “The Others and Their Stories,” 45-6. For the passage about Sicard, see John the Deacon, Gesta, 428. 40

Naples never actually fell to the Lombards. Yet, the memory of their recent efforts to take control over the duchy remained vivid in John’s historical imagination. Naples’ successful resistance was in part because it struck up a military alliance with the Sicilian . The Saracen attacks had posed a threat to Naples, as they did to many other territories in ninth- century Campania.140 In the Translatio S. Sosii, we will see that the settlement of Misenum, located on the outskirts of Naples, had been left in ruins after a Saracen raid (Map 1). In addition to this, the Translatio mentions that the Neapolitan territory of Lucullanum was also destroyed by Saracen raids before 902. Lucullanum was located along the shoreline of Naples and was home to the original foundation of the monastery of Saint Severinus as well as several other monasteries (Map 1).141 As a result of the destruction of Lucullanum, these monastic communities had to be moved within Naples’ city walls.142 Despite the invasions, Neapolitan leaders and the Sicilian Muslims maintained a tenuous alliance to help ward off the Lombard threats. For instance, Duke Sergius II of Naples (870-878) enjoyed a particularly close bond with the Sicilian Aghlabids. The Duke even granted partial control over the city to the Muslim ruler.143 In addition to this, as noted by Berto, the Saracens are not depicted as negatively as the Lombard princes in Neapolitan historiography. In the Gesta, for example, the Saracens are portrayed as little more than military threats to the city.144

The political allegiance between the Muslim armies and the dukes of Naples in the late ninth century not only played a role in the duchy’s independence from Benevento in the late ninth century but also impacted its relationship with Rome. In the 870s, Pope John VIII (872-882) began a vocal anti-Muslim campaign. The relationship between Naples and the Muslims became a focus of Pope John’s efforts to eradicate the Saracens from southern Italy. After repeated attempts to convince Duke Sergius II of Naples to break alliances with the Saracens, John VIII finally entered into an agreement with the Duke of Naples in 877 when delegates from Rome,

140 Cassandro, “Il ducato bizantino,” 64-9; Berto, “The Others and Their Stories,” 37-9. 141 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:658. Other monastic communities in the territory of Lucullanum included Saints Sergius and Bacchus and Saint Michael the with the annexed cells and oratories of Saints Erasmus, Maximus, and Julian. 142 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:656. 143 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 73-4; Berto, “The Others and Their Stories,” 47-50. 144 Berto, “The Others and their Stories,” 48. John also depicted the Saracens as military threats to the city in the Translatio S. Severini, 452. 41

Naples, and Gaeta met in Traetto.145 However, the treaty with John was not upheld and the Pope was left with no support in Naples. In 878, the bishop of Naples and Stephanus III’s predecessor, Athanasius II (d. 898), ousted Sergius II, his own , from the ducal throne, blinded him (as per the Byzantine tradition?), and sent him to Rome.146 Bishop Athanasius II was then elected as the duke of Naples.

Bishop Athanasius II’s “election” as duke was met with the definitive support of Pope John VIII, who had high hopes that Athanasius II, as leader of one of the most important ecclesiastical centers in southern Italy, would help him dispel the Saracens.147 Athanasius II did not, however, uphold his end of the promise. In fact, under his command the duchy openly defied Pope John VIII. Athanasius II continued the precedent established by his predecessors to use the Muslims to fend off the Lombard threat.148 In an 879 letter, Pope John VIII wrote to Athanasius II and to Pulcharus, the prefect of Amalfi, threatening unless they broke their agreement with the Saracens.149 The agreement with the Sicilian Muslims was maintained and, soon after this, the entire duchy of Naples was excommunicated.150

Besides the tumult with the papacy, the career of Athanasius II otherwise represented a high point in Neapolitan episcopal power, since he reigned as both duke and bishop. Under Athanasius’ authority, Naples grew in military power and prestige. Athanasius II also poured resources into the city’s cultural institutions, establishing scriptoria and ordering the production

145 Cassandro, “Il ducato bizantino,” 96; Kreutz, Before the Normans, 58; Skinner, Family Power, 46-7. John’s letter to Duke Sergius II in 877, in which he warned the duke to abstain from any agreement with the Saracen armies, is in Registrum Johannis VIII papae, ed. E. Caspar, in MGH Epistolae Karolini Aevi (Hannover: Hahn, 1974), 5:388-9. 146 Skinner, Family Power, 86. 147 Registrum Johannis VIII papae, 73-4. Here, John VIII wrote to the judges of Naples regarding the election of Athanasius II, praising them for their decision to promote Athanasius after Duke Sergius and that the virum perditionis was rightfully dethroned: “. . . illo [Sergius] abiecto pastorem et episcopum animarum vestrarum, Athanasium vidilicet dilectum confratrem et unanimem filium nostrum, habere iudicem elegistis, innumeras vestre dilecte prudentie et unanimatati gratias agimus. . .” 148 Berto, “The Others and Their Stories,” 38. 149 Registrum Johannis VIII papae, 204-5. The independent duchies of Amalfi, Salerno, and Naples had made agreements with Saracen armies that they could settle in their lands. See also Kreutz, Before the Normans, 58-60. 150 Registrum Johannis VIII papae, 215-6: “. . . omni sacra communione, sancto videlicet corpore et sanguine domini nostri Jesu Christi, vos una cum totius apostolice sedis consensu privavimus et ab ecclesie Dei societate separavimus, ut in eadem excommunicatione maneatis, donec resipiscentes ab impia vos paganorum preda separetis, et nisi puro corde et devota voluntate citius fueritis conversi ad gremium sancte matris vestre Romane ecclesie, maioris damnationis sententia vos procul dubio feriemus.” Pope John VIII tried once again to convince Athanasius in 882 before his death. See Kreutz, Before the Normans, 59. 42

of manuscripts.151 Some scholars, looking back on the reign of Athanasius as both duke and bishop, argue that Naples’ influence across southern Italy gradually declined after his death.152 This brings us to the next context that is reflected in the Translatio S. Sosii. That is, the centrality of the Church and the intertwining of the ducal and ecclesiastical authority in Naples during the late ninth and early tenth century.153

First, the role of the Church in Naples was central to its identity as a city. For instance, Naples had a long-standing reputation as a center for monasticism. In 393, St Ambrose wrote to the bishop of Naples, Severus. He spoke of its tranquil shores, which were removed from the dangers of barbarian invasions and a haven for prayer and contemplation.154 Before the Saracen raids of the ninth century, the densely populated city had wealthy monastic communities both within and outside its walls.155 While the number of extra-urban communities gradually decreased during the ninth century, Naples continued to boast of a strong presence of monks and churchmen within the city walls. Between the tenth and eleventh centuries, there were as many as fifteen churches and monasteries in the city combined.156 As Patricia Skinner has shown, basing her own work on that of Capasso’s nineteenth-century research on urban space in Naples, churches and monasteries stood quite literally at the central intersections of Neapolitan city life

(Map 2).157 They were placed in busy thoroughfares in order to attract gifts but also to perform

151 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 74. 152 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 74: “Yet after Athanasius’ death in 898, Naples would never again, at least in this period, seem quite so important.” 153 For the role of the bishop in Naples in general, see Kreutz, Before the Normans, 22-3; P. Bertolini, “La serie episcopale napoletana nei secoli VIII e IX. Ricerche sulle fonti per la storia dell'Italia meridionale nell'Alto Medioevo,” Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia 24 (1970): 373-389. 154 Ambrose of Milan, Epistolae LIX, Patrologia Latina (PL) 16, cols. 1182-3: “Remota enim vestri ora littoris non solum a periculis, sed etiam ab omni strepitu tranquilitatem infundit sensibus, et traducit animos a terribilibus, et saevis curarum aestibus ad honestam quietem; ut illud commune omnium specialiter vobis videatur congruere et convenire, quod ait de sancta Ecclesia: Ipse super maria fundavit eam, et super flumina praeparavit eam. Etenim liber animus a barbarorum incursibus, et praeliorum acerbitatibus, vacat orationibus, inservit Deo, curat ea quae sunt Domini, fovet illa quae pacis sunt et tranquillitatis.” See also, Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:655. 155 For monasticism in Naples between the ninth and eleventh centuries, see Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:655-68. The communities within the city included both Greek and Latin monasteries, located mostly along the shoreline surrounding Naples. Most of the monastic communities had transitioned to the Latin rite by the late eleventh century. 156 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:655-68; Skinner, “Urban communities in Naples, 900-1050,” Papers of the British School at Rome 62 (1994): 283-4. In the city walls, by the eleventh century, major monasteries included Saints Severinus and Sosius and St Saviour for men and Saints Marcellinus and Peter for women. 157 Skinner, “Urban Communities,” 282; B. Capasso, “Pianta della citta di Napoli nel secolo XI,” Archivio storico per le province Napoletane 16 (1891): 832-62; 17 (1892): 422-84; 18 (1893): 679-726, 851-81, 105-25, 316-63. 43

legal responsibilities for the urban communities, like acting as a witness in the signing of a charter.158

Naples was also unique for its prominent bishopric. It was not uncommon for other territories in Campania to have powerful bishops who were frequently related to a secular ruler. The most obvious example of this comes from Benevento, where the bishops were appointed by the Lombard prince and appear to have been subject to his rule. In Naples, however, the bishops appear to have not only been related to the ruling families but also taken part in the temporal governance of the city.159 Neapolitan charters show that dukes and bishops alike founded and patronized monastic communities as a way to reinforce their authority.160 Athanasius II himself was responsible for granting of a large amount of land within Naples to the community of Saint

Severinus after it had been refounded in the city walls in the late ninth century.161 The cooperation between the duke and the bishop of Naples was also characteristic of the city before Athanasius II. For instance, the 836 Pactum Sicardi stated that the treaty was made between the Lombard Prince and the bishop and the reigning duke of Naples alike, suggesting that the Lombard prince recognized the equal measure of power shared between the duke and bishop of

Naples.162 Bishop Athanasius I (849-872), Athanasius II’s predecessor and uncle, also came from the ducal family and famously exercised a considerable amount of control over education and learning in Naples.163

The autonomous status of Naples helps in part to explain the elevated influence of the bishop in the city. Since there was little in the way of Byzantine control over ducal elections, dukes had to find alternate modes of legitimizing their authority once they were established in the office. One way of doing this was to appoint close family members to high-ranking positions in the city, such as the episcopate.164 The election of family members as bishop was a way of ensuring that

158 Skinner, “Urban Communities,” 285. 159 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 22. 160 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:666. 161 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:664; Capasso, ed., Diplomata et Chartae Ducum Neapolis, in Monumenta ad Neapolitani Ducatus Historiam Pertinentia (Naples: Francisci Giannini, 1892), 2.2:1 (henceforth DCDN). 162 Pactum Sicardi, 217: “Pro quo promittimus nos dominus vir gloriosissimus Sicardus Langobardorum gentis princeps, vobis Iohanni electo sanctae ecclesiae Neapolitanae et Andreae magistro militum, vel populo vobis subiecto ducati Neapolitani.” 163 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 73-4. 164 Skinner, Family Power, 46-7. 44

the power remained within a close-knit kin-group. Bishops, in this sense, were a stabilizing factor in the governance of Naples. Prior to the mid-ninth century, the history of Naples was marked by political coups and assassinations. By aligning ecclesiastical authority with ducal power, ruling families were better equipped to maintain unity and political equilibrium.165

The career of Bishop Stephanus III constitutes the third context to examine because Stephanus is a central figure in the promotion of Sosius’ cult in Naples. For a bishop whose career has been documented by more than one contemporary, Stephanus III is a relatively understudied figure in the history of Naples.166 A member of the Neapolitan ducal family, Stephanus III was the brother of Athanasius I and the great uncle of Duke Gregory IV of Naples.167 Before becoming bishop of

Naples, Stephanus was bishop of Sorrento up until the mid 890s.168 He came to Naples sometime in the late 890s and was placed as a subject of Athanasius II, whom he succeeded as bishop sometime in or shortly after 898.169 Stephanus III held an elevated role in the Church of Naples, as his predecessors did before him. For instance, he held episcopal authority over the monastery of Saint Severinus, where Sosius’ relics were translated in 906. Despite the fact that its original foundation had been destroyed by Saracen raids in the early tenth century, by the time of the translation of St Sosius, the community of Saint Severinus had at least fifty monks and remained one of the wealthiest communities in Naples.170

165 Skinner, Family Power, 85. 166 Evidence for Stephanus’ career comes from Auxilius of Naples’ Libellus in defensionem Stephani episcopi et praefatae ordinationis, in E. Dümmler, Auxilius und Vulgarius Quellen und Forschungen zur Geschichte des Papstthums im Anfange des zehnten Jahrhunderts (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1866), 96-106 (henceforth Libellus). This was a text written between 906 and 911 in defense of Stephanus III against Pope Stephanus VI and Sergius III. In addition to the Libellus, for information on Stephanus III there is John the Deacon’s Translatio S. Severini and Translatio S. Sosii, and the 907 charter in DCDN, 1-3. 167 For a genealogical table see, Skinner, Family Power, 48. 168 Libellus, 96. 169 We cannot be certain that Stephanus III became bishop in 898, the year of Athanasius’ death and the year traditionally used to mark the beginning of Stephanus’ episcopate. There appears to have been some controversy over Athanasius’ successor, according to the Libellus. In it, Auxilius wrote that Stephanus was consecrated as bishop of Naples by Pope Benedict IV, who reigned from 900-903 (Libellus, 99). Ughelli maintained that Stephanus III was placed in the church of Naples around 895 but consecrated bishop by Benedict IV after the death of Athanasius II in 898/899. See Ughelli, Italia sacra, 6, col. 82. However, Stephanus must have come to Naples after 895 because he was fleeing persecution from Pope Stephanus VI, whose papacy began in 896. See below, pp. 45-50. It is certain that he was present in Naples by 898 and between then and 902, the year he helped translate the relics of St Severinus, he had been consecrated bishop. 170 DCDN, 1-2. 45

Stephanus’ authority over the monastery of Saint Severinus was partially derivative of his relationship with Duke Gregory IV of Naples (898- c. 915) and his status as a member of the ducal family. Donations from the dukes of Naples to the monastery of Saint Severinus suggest that it was in fact considered a ducal foundation after it was relocated within the city walls and that dominion over the monastery was shared between the duke and the bishop.171 In addition to this the geographic proximity between the monastery of Saint Severinus and the ducal palace may also suggest that the monastery was a ducal foundation (Map 2), since land along the city’s shoreline may have historically belonged to the duke of Naples.172 We will see that after Stephanus’ death, Duke Gregory IV continued to exercise his own ducal authority over the monastery while working in close connection with the bishop of Naples and honoring the memory of his great uncle. Nevertheless, the documents from Duke Gregory’s reign corroborate the sense that the duke valued Stephanus’ influence and that the bishop played an important role both as an authority over the monastery of Saint Severinus and as a strong ally of the duke. This mutually beneficial relationship between the duke and the bishop is, in turn, expressed by John’s hagiography.

171 Skinner, “Urban Communities,” 289 and Family Power, 86; for the documents (dated between 962 and 1015) see Capasso, ed., Regesta Neapolitana, in Monumenta ad Neapolitani Ducatus Historiam Pertinentia, (Naples: F. Giannini, 1885) vol. 2.1, nos. 125, 154, 208, 356. One example comes from 975 when Saint Severinus was granted immunity from ducal control over its servants. See Regesta Neapolitana, 208. 172 Skinner proposed the possibility that a sizable portion of land near the city’s coast goes unnamed in documents from ninth- and tenth-century because territory along the shoreline largely belonged to the duke. See Skinner, “Urban Communities,” 280-1. 46

Map 2 Naples, c. 8th century - c. 11th century173

While Stephanus III appears to have had a good working relationship with Duke Gregory IV of Naples, during the late ninth and early tenth century, he also faced external challenges to his episcopacy. Not only had the Church of Naples recently been in a state of excommunication during the reign of John VIII, Stephanus III had also been the target of Pope Stephanus VI (896-

173 Adapted from Skinner, “Urban Communities,” 282 and Granier, “Naples aux IXe et Xe siècles,” 115. 47

897) and his successor in the early tenth century, Pope Sergius III (904-911).174 Stephanus’ troubles with these popes were recorded by a cleric named Auxilius. Both Stephanus III and Auxilius had been ordained by Pope Formosus (891-896) and came to Naples after the death of Formosus in order to flee persecution from Pope Stephanus VI. While in Naples, Auxilius composed a text in defense of Formosus as well as Bishop Stephanus III.175 Auxilius’ efforts to defend Pope Formosus and Stephanus III came out of a long and bitter controversy surrounding the succession to the imperial crown after the fall of the Carolingian dynasty. Stephanus VI, a follower of the Spoletine ducal family, accused Pope Formosus of abandoning his loyalty to the

Duke of Spoleto.176 After Formosus’ death, Stephanus VI was elected to the papal throne and soon called into question all appointments to the Church made by Formosus. In renouncing the legitimacy of the appointments made by Formosus, Stephanus VI removed his predecessor’s body from its grave, placed the corpse on trial, and had it deposed and thrown into the Tiber.177 During the infamous cadaver trial of 897, Formosus was found guilty of disobedience to the

Duke of Spoleto and convicted of other crimes.178 As a result of Pope Stephanus VI’s accusations, all appointments made by Pope Formosus and his allies were called into question and eventually deemed illegitimate by a coerced papal . These appointments included that of Bishop Stephanus III of Naples. Eight years later, Pope Sergius III, who was a supporter of Pope Stephanus VI, renewed the judgements of his predecessor, including those against Stephanus III, who had in the meantime become bishop of Naples. The renewed judgement from Rome aimed to delegitimize Stephanus’ authority as bishop.

174 In between Stephanus VI and Sergius III there were no less than five popes: Romanus (897), Theodore II (897), John IX (898-900), Benedict IV (900-903), Leo V (903-904). None of these appears to have had raised issue with Stephanus III. Benedict IV is even credited with consecrating him as bishop of Naples. 175 Capasso, ed., Monumenta, 2.1:221, 226; Mallardo, “La vita,” 319-21. 176 On the conflict, see Dümmler, Auxilius und Vulgarius, 1-17 and M. Moore, “The Attack on Pope Formosus: Papal History in an Age of Resentment (875-897),” in Ecclesia et violentia: violence against the Church and violence within the Church in the Middle Ages, eds. R. Kotecki and J. Maciejewski (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014), 184-208. 177 The corpse trial is recounted in contemporary sources including the Annales Fuldenses, in MGH Scriptores (in folio), Annales et chronica aevi Carolini, ed. Pertz (Hannover: Hahn, 1846), 1:412: “A Roma Formosus papa defunctus est die sancto paschae, in cuius locum consecratur Bonifacius, qui podagrico morbo correptus, vix 15 dies supervixisse reperitur. In cuius sedem successit apostolicus nomine Stephanus, vir fama infamandus, qui antecessorem suum, Formosum scilicet, inaudito more de tumulo eictum et per advocatum suae responsionis depositum, foras extra solitum sepulturae apostolicis locum sepeliri praecepit.” For more on the trial and conflict, see Dümmler,Auxilius und Vulgarius, 27-38; Mallardo, “La Vita,” 320.; Moore, “The Attack on Pope Formosus,” 204-208. 178 Moore, “The Attack on Pope Formosus,” 205. 48

Auxilius’ text, known as the Libellus in defensionem Stephani episcopi et praefatae ordinationis, was written sometime soon after the death of Stephanus III in 906/907.179 In what is essentially a lengthy apology on behalf of Stephanus III as well as an account of the attacks against him, Auxilius ardently defended the work of Stephanus III against certain mali, who challenged the legitimacy of his status as bishop and the appointments he made in the Church of Naples.180 He wrote that as a result of Stephanus VI’s attacks, Stephanus III spent years in exile, enduring punishment that he did not deserve.181 In defense of Stephanus III, Auxilius described him as a holy man “whose sanctity and kindness are known not only in Campania but throughout the regions surrounding it.”182 According to the Libellus, after the death of Athanasius II, the city of Naples erupted in conflict. Apparently, a faction in Naples had turned against the followers of

Athanasius II:183 “After Athanasius died, whom we have mentioned frequently, almost all of Naples roared as if it were a lion and was poised to tear apart and, if I may speak thus, to devour with fangs the subjects and followers of its own bishop.”184 In the midst of conflict, the Libellus informs us that the clergy and the noblemen were able to convince Stephanus that, for the protection of the city, he should be consecrated bishop of Naples.185 Stephanus agreed, “not for glory” but for “the peaceful reunion of the entire population.”186 Even though he was elected a bishop rightfully, according to Auxilius, the attacks from Rome continued with the election of Sergius III as pope in 904. After extolling the virtues of Stephanus III, Auxilius devoted the remainder of the Libellus to defending his election as bishop of Naples against Sergius III. He

179 Libellus, 96-107. In the opening lines, Auxilius indicated that he wrote shortly after the death of Stephanus III, who died in 906/907: “Venerabilis Stephanus episcopus, qui nuper migravit ad dominum.” 180 Libellus, 96: “Sed quia mali, ut dicere coeperam, semper odio habent bonos, quidam novi aemulatores eum contra canonum instituta inthonizatum fuisse confingunt.” 181 Libellus, 98-9. 182 Libellus, 96: “eius sanctitatis fuerit eiusque mansuetudinis, non solum Campania, verum etiam omnes in circitu positae regiones optime sciunt.” 183 Libellus, 99. This conflict appears to have been the result of a dispute between the people of Naples and Capua, although Auxilius is not clear on the matter. He only noted that Naples erupted into conflict for a reason “known by all” (“Revera enim qua ex causa hoc facere voluerit, omnibus notum est.”) Later on he wrote that Stephanus restored the peace between “utrumpopulum, Neapolitanum scilicet atque Capuanum.” Athanasius II had allied with Capua in 897 and gave his daughter, Gemma, to Landolf, the son of Atenolf of Capua-Benevento. This may have resulted in a dispute over ducal succession. See Skinner, Family Power, 49. 184 Libellus, 99: “Defuncto igitur Athanasio episcopo, cuius saepe fecimus mentionem, pene tota Neapolis tamquam leo rugiens familias et colonos episcopii sui diripere et, ut ita dicam, morsibus devorare parata est.” 185 Libellus, 99: “Quocirca reverentissimo patri Stephano clerus et magnates vix suadere potuerunt, ut ad tuitionem famulorum huius episcopii se inthronizari aequiesceret.” 186 Libellus, 99. 49

stressed especially that it was the will of the people of Naples that Stephanus III lead them as their bishop following the death of Athanasius II.187

The relatively recent sentence of excommunication and the ongoing conflict with Pope Sergius III occupied the Church of Naples at the time that John the Deacon wrote the Translatio S. Sosii. Further, John the Deacon was likely familiar with the work of Auxilius because they were both members of the cathedral community at the same time. According to Mallardo, Auxilius may even have instructed John the Deacon based on a passage in the Translatio S. Sosii in which John mentioned that he had help from a sacerdotem auxilium when he wrote the text.188 Although Auxilius did not mention Stephanus’ role in the translation of St Sosius, he must have been aware of it if he truly did help John compose the text. At the same time, it is improbable that John the Deacon was unaware of the challenges facing Stephanus III, which led Auxilius to compose his Libellus and that these conflicts did not shape his image of the bishop in the Translatio S. Sosii. The challenges facing Stephanus in the early tenth century, which have not been explored in connection with John the Deacon’s writings, may offer new interpretive contexts for the composition of the Translatio S. Sosii.

Dating and use of the Translatio S. Sosii

John the Deacon probably composed the Translatio S. Sosii between 906 and 907. This date is based upon a few clues found within the text. For instance, the text was written at the request of Stephanus III, bishop from c. 898/900 - c. 906/907, and who was present during the translation and enshrinement of Sosius in 906. Since John did not give any indication that Bishop Stephanus had died by the time he wrote the text, it may have been composed in or shortly after 906.189 Also helpful in understanding the date of the inventio is the fact that John mentioned that the search for the relics of St Sosius began sixty years after the destruction of Misenum by the

187 Libellus, 105-6: “defuncto autem Athanasio praesule nec ipsa ecclesia tun habebat pastorem nec ille Stephanus episcopus habebat plebam, quam regere deberet sicut praesul: erat enim utrumque vacuum. Accessit itaque voluntas et precatio populi et cleri Parthenopensis ad ipsum obnixe obsecrans, ut eis pastor et rector existeret.” It is curious that Auxilius did not mention anything about Stephanus’ role in the translationes of Severinus and Sosius. However, this may be explained by the fact that the Libellus is predominantly concerned with defending the election and consecration of Stephanus. 188 See Mallardo, “La vita,” 326. 189 G. Vergara, “Presentazione e cronologia di un’altra opera di Giovanni Diacono napoletano,” Rassegna Storica dei Comuni 2 (1970):161-5. 50

Saracen armies. John the Deacon was referring to the 846 Saracen raid on Rome, during which much of the Campanian coastline was impacted. John also mentioned the 846 destruction of Misenum in his Gesta episcoporum: “Ships bearing a great number of Saracens arrived in Ponza to wage war on Italy and Duke Sergius I, together with the people of Amalfi, Gaeta, and Sorrento, resisted them through warfare . . . On account of this, a great army from Palermo arrived and seized castellum Misenatum. Then the Africans, desiring to destroy the entire region, set out for Rome.”190

While no contemporary tenth-century recension of the Translatio S. Sosii survives, it was used as a source for subsequent Neapolitan hagiographers, such as the Neapolitan cleric Raynerius, who composed the tenth- or eleventh-century passio and translatio of Eutyches and Acuitus of

Pozzuoli.191 In addition to this, local and regional liturgical calendars attest to the celebration of his cult around the time that John is thought to have composed the Translatio.192 These corroborate Sosius’ saintly reputation in the region surrounding Naples as well as the occurrence of the inventio and translatio. For example, the calendar in Rome, Biblioteca Casanatense, 641 was compiled by the tenth century and includes the celebration of the dedication of Sosius’ altar in Naples. 193 The feast of Sosius’ translation from Misenum to Naples on September 23 appears also in Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale, VI E 43. In this late eleventh-century manuscript, composed in the monastery of Santa Sophia in Benevento, Sosius’ translation is rubricated with “In Campania scti Sosii diaconi Mesenatis civitatis” (“In Campania St Sosius the deacon of Misenum”).

190 John the Deacon, Gesta, 432-3. “Multorum naves Saracenorum latrocinari per Italiam cupientium Pontias devenerunt. Tunc Sergius consularis una cum Amalphitanis Caietanisque ac Surrentinis. . . bellum cum eis est agressus. . . Propterea magnus exercitus Panormitanorum adveniens, castellum Misenatium comprehendit. Ac inde Africani in forti brachio omnem hanc regionem divastare cupientes, Romam supervenerunt.” For more on the 846 Saracen attack of Rome, see Kreutz, Before the Normans, 26-27 and T. Lankila, “The Saracen Raid of Rome in 846: an example of maritime ghazwa,” in Traveling through Time: Essays in Honor of Kaj Ӧhrnberg, Studia Orientalia 114, eds. S. Akar, J. Hämeen-Anttila, and I. Nokso-Koivisto (Helsinki: STOR, 2013), 93-120. 191 Passio et translatio sanctorum Eutychetis et Acutii auctore Raynerio, 181-6. 192 Sosius also appears without any mention of Januarius in a martyrology composed in 848 by a monk of Prüm named Wandelbert. See J. Dubois, Les martyrologes du moyen âge latin (Turnhout: Brepols, 1978), 59 and A. Vuolo, “La ‘Passio S. Januarii’ nelle epitomi medievali,” Studi Ianuariani: in occasione del VI centenario della prima notizia storica della liquefazione del sangue di S.Gennaro (1389-1989), eds. D. Ambrasi, U. Dovere (Naples: Pontificia Facoltà Teologica dell'Italia Meridionale Sezione Tommaso d'Aquino, 1989), 102-3. 193 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 3:1516; V. Brown, Terra sancti Benedicti, 682. 51

The relationship between the Translatio S. Sosii and the hagiography associated with St Januarius also supports the sense that the Translatio S. Sosii was used in the liturgical celebrations in Naples sometime after the early tenth century. The first half of the Translatio S. Sosii, which recounts the martyrdom of Sts Sosius and Januarius in the fourth century, borrows from a corpus of texts known as the Acta Vaticana (BHL 4115).194 The Acta Vaticana included a wider hagiographic tradition for St Januarius and was originally composed between the eighth and ninth centuries. The contents of the Acta were an important part of the liturgy of Naples by the tenth century and were read on Januarius’ feast days in the city long after his relics were allegedly removed by Prince Sico in the .195 Given its connection with the Acta and the appearance of Sosius’ feast in local calendars, Sosius’ Translatio may have been integrated into the liturgy of Naples sometime after the early tenth-century. John the Deacon may have intended to root Sosius’ legend in the hagiographical corpus associated with Januarius in order to demonstrate Sosius’ ties to the city’s remote past. Furthermore, given John’s focus on Stephanus III, the messages in the Translatio may also have been intended to reach an audience outside Naples, to demonstrate that the episcopacy of Naples remained blessed by the saints and was governed by a virtuous and authoritative bishop. This connection strengthens the sense that relic discoveries played a significant role in the curation and communication of ecclesiastical authority to various audiences and that local liturgies were important vehicles for transmitting these messages.

The Discovery of St Sosius

The Translatio S. Sosii has two parts. As mentioned, the first half is based on the content of the Acta Vaticana and details the fourth-century passio of St Sosius (BHL 4134). The second half recounts the inventio and translatio of St Sosius from the ruins of Misenum (BHL 4135) to the monastery of Saint Severinus in Naples. While the first half of the source roots Sosius in the ancient and holy past of Naples, the second portion takes place almost entirely in the early tenth century. Here, we will primarily be concerned with the second portion of the text since it includes the discovery and translation of Sosius’ relics to Naples.

194 See n. 125 above. 195 Zchomelidse, Art, Ritual, and Civic Identity, 175. 52

The Translatio S. Sosii relates that after the settlement of Misenum was left in ruins by the Saracen invaders of the ninth century, the relics of St Sosius were abandoned. In 906, several monks from the monastery of Saint Severinus were moved by humana curiositate to investigate the whereabouts of Sosius’ relics. They traveled by boat to Misenum and, while wandering through the abandoned shrine, the monks noticed an inscription bearing three letters from the saint’s name. They hurried back to Naples to report their discovery to their abbot, John of Saint Severinus. The abbot decided that a search for Sosius’ relics should not be carried out without episcopal blessing (pontificali licentia) so he requested permission from the bishop of Naples, Stephanus III, to send delegates to aid in the mission. Bishop Stephanus replied that many had attempted to find Sosius’ relics before, but none had succeeded: “even Sicard, the prince of the Lombards, after he inflicted innumerable evils upon our city, attempted to steal Sosius’ relics. He overturned sepulchers and took the saintly bodies from them. He did discover one body in place of Sosius’ and built a church in his honor but he was never able to find this martyr.”196 Bishop Stephanus indicated that his predecessor and germanus, Athanasius I, also attempted to discover the body of Sosius with no success. Despite the failure to find Sosius’ body in the past, Bishop Stephanus granted his blessing to Abbot John. Following this, Abbot John summoned several churchmen: John the Deacon, Aligernus the primicerius, Peter the , and two monks from Saint Severinus, confusingly also named Athanasius and John. Abbot John ordered them to head for Misenum to search for the relics of St Sosius. The group boarded a small ship and set out.197

When the group arrived at the shrine and the monks uncovered the mysterious letters inscribed in the ruins of the church, John replied to the monks that “these letters prove little else than the fact you can read them. If you truly desire to know what is meant by these letters, they were a part of a verse, which has now been demolished.”198 Despite their disappointment, the group began to

196 Translatio S. Sosii, 460: “Nam Sicardus princeps Langobardorum, post innumera mala, quibus urbes nostrorum afflixit, etiam ad hoc prorupit, ut sepulcra suffoderet, et sanctorum ex eis corpora sublevaret; sed Martyrem hunc, licet aliud pro alio reperisset, et nomini eius ecclesiam consecrasset, nequaquam invenire potuit.” To my knowledge, there is no surviving source in addition to the Translatio S. Sosii that indicates this attempted theft. For more see, Stilting, De SS. Januario Episcopo, Sosii, Festo, et Procolo Diacono, Commentarius Praevius, AASS September 4, 790. 197 Translatio S. Sosii, 461. 198 Translatio S. Sosii, 461: “Haec, inquam, fratres, tria grammatica vestram potius declarant intelligentiam, quam aliquid emolumenti conferant. Si enim evidenter cognoscere vultis, quid haec innuisset exaratio, versus fuit olim huius abolitae imaginis desuper stantis.” 53

dig around the altar since they did not want to go home empty handed. Meanwhile, John the Deacon observed something strange about the shrine in which they stood: “The fenestra seem to be less for light and more for deception,” he spoke as he admired both the height and craftsmanship of the small cavities surrounding the altar. “I admired not only their positioning, which was done in such a way so that they seemed delicate, but also the industry of ancient men, which in burying bodies, actually in every craft, was understood to be so skillful that it was confounding to those who came after.”199 John summoned the clerics Aligernus and Athanasius and explained that “If I should be able to pass through [the fenestra] completely, it would explain the way in which they are situated and immediately it would be clear how the others who searched for the relics were deceived.” The group left the temple and searched earnestly for an entrance into the catacombs of the shrine. At last, they found a narrow passageway that led to the catacombs of the church. After consulting with one another, the search party decided to summon local stonemasons to tear down the walls that divided the catacombs and the altar. The workers picked up their shovels and joyfully carried out the task. When the altar had been demolished, a mosaic of Sosius appeared alongside an effigy of the saint. When the final wall was torn down, they discovered a hollow opening, which held four empty tombs. At that moment, a saintly odor spread throughout the chamber as the party searched through the shadows of the crypt.200 At last, John the Deacon was struck by a memory of something Bishop Athanasius II had said: that St Sosius was buried within a tomb that had the appearance of a small church. Just then, as if by a miracle, the party discovered a tomb in the shape of a basilica in which Sosius’ body lay.201

The next day, a bishop from nearby named John of Cuma, came with all his men to inspect the body.202 The bishop diligently searched through the relics and concluded that not a single part was missing. After saying mass, John of Cuma left. John the Deacon and his companions placed the body into their small boat and began their journey back to Naples. However, because of a storm, the group could make it as far as the city’s harbor. They landed in Lucullanum. On the

199 Translatio S. Sosii, 461:“At ego interim unam contemplabar fenestram, et tacitus admirabar non solum situm eius, qui in tanta mole tam tenuis videbatur expressus, sed antiquorum maxime industriam, quae in condendis corporibus, immo in omni artificio tanta calluit astutia, ut difficilius posterorum animadversio pateret.” 200 Translatio S. Sosii, 462: “Succedente latitia curiosissimis oculis latebrarum penetralia considerabamus.” 201 Translatio S. Sosii, 462. 202 To my knowledge, there is no other mention of Bishop John of Cuma other than in John’s Translatio S. Sosii. On this, see also Ughelli, Italia sacra, 6:226-8. 54

shores of Lucullanum, Bishop Stephanus met the ship carrying Sosius’ relics. Stephanus was accompanied by Duke Gregory IV of Naples, John the abbot of Saint Severinus, and all the monks and people of Naples. The crowd gathered around the relics and joined one another in singing psalms, in Latin and Greek.203 In the morning, Bishop Stephanus led the holy body into the monastery and buried Sosius in the altar “with his own hands.”204

Memory and Episcopal Power in the Translatio S. Sosii

While the Translatio establishes continuity between Sosius and Januarius, John did not compose the Translatio S. Sosii solely in reaction to the loss of Januarius’ relics. Instead, it more likely represents a response to the circumstances that occupied the Church of Naples between the late ninth and early tenth century. Namely, the political position of Naples with respect to the Lombards, the spiritual status of Naples in the early tenth century as it faced scrutiny from Rome, and, related to this, the episcopal legitimacy of Stephanus III. Above all, John the Deacon responded to these contexts by emphasizing that the inventio of Sosius hinged on the actions of Bishop Stephanus III as the spiritual core of Naples. Indeed, the very composition of the Translatio is attributed to Stephanus’ ruling. In his prologue, it should be recalled that John wrote of his hesitancy to compose the narrative at the request of Abbot John. However, once

Stephanus III gave his consent in the matter, only then was John convinced.205

The remainder of the text follows the theme of establishing Stephanus’ purview over the ecclesiastical life of Naples. John accomplished this first by using the memory of past authorities, like Athanasius I and Prince Sicard. Second, John focused not only on the powers of the past but also on contemporaries that surrounded Stephanus, like Duke Gregory IV and Abbot John of Saint Severinus. Finally, the liturgical rituals of the inventio, translatio, and depositio also portray a hierarchy within Naples that ultimately pointed to the authority of the bishop.

203 Translatio S. Sosii, 462: “Per totam noctem unanimes Graecam Latinamque psalmodiam sonoris vocibus concerparunt.” 204 Translatio S. Sosii, 463: “Deductum est sanctisimum corpus cum omni gloria in monasterium diffamati abbatis, et nec multo post per manus praelitati antistitis reconditum est in altario ecclesiae, sancti prius Severini vocabulo dedicatae, ubi omnibus se petentibus innumera praestare beneficia non desinit.” 205 Translatio S. Sosii, 459: “Quod vir (John) strenuissimus animadvertit, non est passus ultra dissimulationis funiculum prolongari, sed per idoneos provntores domno Stephano suggessit episcopo, quatinus eius amplitudinis interventu obtineret, quod adipisci sua impetratione nequibat.” 55

One of the most apparent ways in which John the Deacon articulated the holiness of Naples and the authority of Bishop Stephanus was through integrating strata of historical memory. Throughout the Translatio, the memory of the past is continuously invoked. For instance, the very discovery of St Sosius relied on John’s own memory of Bishop Athanasius II. John wrote as if the memory of Athanasius had come to him through divine intervention: “suddenly, I was struck by the recollection of the lord Athanasius, the great bishop.”206 The fact that the discovery of Sosius’ relics hinged on John’s memory of Bishop Athanasius further highlights the sense that episcopal authority permeates this source. Whereas it is quite common for a saints’ relics to be revealed by a divine being or the saint himself, here we have episcopal intervention.207 Two further instances where memory is exercised are also notable. These are Stephanus’ own memory of Athanasius I and the Lombard Prince Sicard. These memories are representative of Stephanus’ authority as a witness to the past.

After Abbot John and his monks announced their intentions to seek out Sosius’ relics, Bishop Stephanus reminded them that his predecessor and brother, Bishop Athanasius I, had previously tried and failed to seek out the saint’s remains. John the Deacon’s mention of Bishop Athanasius I, who was one of the most prominent bishops in Naples, is significant for two reasons. Athanasius I, was one of the most prominent bishops in Naples during the ninth century. Known for his holiness and as a champion of the city’s intellectual culture, by the late ninth century, Athanasius I had himself been sainted. In fact, the anonymous Vita et translatio S. Athanasii episcopi neapolitani was composed during the late ninth century.208 By maintaining a connection between Athanasius I and Stephanus III, John established that Stephanus promoted

206 Translatio S. Sosii, 462. 207 On the prevalence of divine revelations in inventiones see, J. Keskiaho, “Dreams and the Discoveries of Relics in the Early Middle Ages,” 31-51; E. Cronnier, Les inventions, 190-209. 208 Vita S. Athanasii, in Vuolo, Vita et translatio S. Athanasii Neapolitani Episcopi (BHL 735 e 737) (Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 2001). This source also provides information regarding the Sergian dynasty. Athanasius I, Athanasius II, Gregory IV and Stephanus III were members of this ducal family. The Vita states that Athanasius I had a brother named Stephanus, who was the bishop of Sorrento. It is possible that this is the same Bishop Stephen III, who would become the bishop of Naples in 898. Stephanus III died around 906, the same year as the inventio of St Sosius. If he and Athanasius I (born in 830) were close in age, this would make Stephanus III in his seventies or eighties by the time the relics of Sosii were discovered. The evidence is corroborated by the Libellus. In it (p. 100), Auxilius mentioned that before he became bishop of Naples, Stephen III was bishop of Sorrento. The 907 charter of Duke Gregory IV also names Stephanus III as the duke’s patruus, paternal uncle but in this case it must mean great-uncle. See DCDN, 2. See also, Ughelli Italia sacra, 6:82. For more on the early Sergian dynasty, see Skinner, Family Power, 48; Cassandro, “Il ducato bizantino,” 68-127, esp. 120; J. Stilting, Annotata, AASS September 4, 822. 56

the same cult as a powerful episcopal predecessor and thus preserved important continuity with this bishop.209 In this way, the Translatio served not only to maintain continuity between Naples and the ancient past represented by Sosius but also between Stephanus and the line of powerful bishops before him. Second, Stephanus’ success in the discovery is set in contrast with Athanasius I’s ultimate inability to acquire the relics. Through the success of the discovery, John emphasized Stephanus’ episcopal virtue to an even greater extent and made clear that the episcopal authority in Naples remained strong.

In addition to the memory of Athanasius I, John the Deacon also turned to the legends of the Lombard princes. Bishop Stephanus reminded Abbot John and his monks that Prince Sicard of Benevento had similarly attempted to seek out Sosius’ remains. According to Stephanus, Sicard overturned sepulchres and committed innumerable evils upon the city of Naples in his search. While he did not discover Sosius, Stephanus noted that Sicard was successful in stealing the relics of one saint from Naples, whom he brought with him to Benevento. This memory of Sicard was meant to downplay the authority of the Lombard princes through Sicard’s failure to find Sosius and the generally negative depiction of the prince. Was John also attempting to comment vaguely upon the theft of Januarius’ relics in this passage? By leaving the stolen saint anonymous, John may have been subtly referencing the alleged furta sacra of Januarius. Instead of Sico, however, John turned to the more recent memory of Prince Sicard, who ruled from 832-

839 and who, as mentioned, attempted to overtake the duchy of Naples like his predecessor.210 Since the translation of St Januarius from Naples to Benevento was documented in two contemporary sources, an 832 epitaph of Prince Sico and the Translatio S. Januarii, composed between 831-9, John the Deacon may very well have had access to or knowledge of the source. Therefore, John may have used the Translatio S. Sosii to creatively challenge and downplay the Januarius legend. However, this may have had less to do with the loss of Janurius’ relics and preserving his saintly patronage, as others have argued, and more with defining episcopal authority in Naples and upending Lombard claims to authority over the city.

209 For this idea in Tuscan hagiography, see Brand, Holy Treasure and Sacred Song, 53. 210 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 20-3. 57

In the Translatio S. Januarii, Naples is depicted as a destitute and sinful city and therefore unworthy of Januarius’ patronage.211 According to the Translatio, Januarius himself remarked that “up until now, I have defended this city (Naples), but I can no longer bear their evil ways nor the sins they commit upon my tomb.”212 Through a successful furta sacra, the Translatio S. Januarii thus helped to legitimize the Lombard invasions and claim to authority over Naples, even if those claims were never realized.213 Further, the Translatio S. Januarii as well as Prince Sico’s epitaph both place the prince as the dominant figure in the successful translation of

Januarius’ relics.214 It is the prince who ordered the relics to be found and on whose presence the translation depended.215 The Beneventan bishop, on the other hand, remained secondary in the translation and performed a relatively minor role in the depositio of Januarius’ relics in the city’s cathedral.216

While referencing the loss of an unnamed saint at the hands of Prince Sicard, John may have signaled his awareness of the Januarius legend but did not make it a central focus of his text. Instead, he stressed the importance of Sosius and, in doing so, set the framework for Stephanus’ comparative success in ordaining the discovery and translation. Related to this, John also challenged the dominance of the prince expressed in the Translatio S. Januarii. In the Translatio S. Sosii, Stephanus took on the role of Sicard, as the apex of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. By maintaining the social structure with a prominent bishop, John simultaneously emphasized autonomy from the Beneventan Lombards, where the prince was the head of the Church, and stressed the legitimacy of Stephanus’ power within Naples.217 This is seen also by the relative silence of the duke in the Translatio. Despite the fact that Gregory IV and Stephanus III were related and likely worked closely together in the administration of Naples, Gregory’s presence is

211 Translatio S. Januarii, 889. 212 Translatio S. Januarii, 889. “Hactenus pro urbe hac deprecatus sum, sed ferre illorum mala jam non valei, maxime cum super tumulum meum tot perjuria perpetrent.” 213 Granier, “Napolitains et Lombards,” 436-8; Galdi, “Quam si urbem illam suae subdiderit,” 223 and “Traslazioni di reliquie,” 82. 214 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 215. 215 Translatio S. Januarii, 890. 216 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 217-8. As a sign of his relationship to the saint, Sico placed his own crown upon Januarius’ altar: See Translatio S. Januarii, 890: “excellentissimus princeps Sico, qui coronam auro optimo excellentemque gemmis pretiosissimis de capite suis manibus deposuit, et super altarium beati Januarii martyris locavit.” 217 On the supremacy of the Lombard princes over ecclesiastical affairs in early-medieval Benevento, see V. Ramseyer, Transformation, ch. 1; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” ch. 4; Palmieri, “Duchi, principi e vescovi nella Longobardia meridionale,” in Longobardia e longobardi, 43-4. 58

limited to a single mention throughout the entire source.218 Although Duke Gregory IV was present during the translation, there is no indication in the text of his participation in the ritual, and certainly nothing as vivid as the actions of Sico in the enshrinement of Januarius. The memory of Sicard in the translatio ultimately rendered the Lombard princes as ineffective and stripped them of the divine approval accumulated in Beneventan inventiones such as the versions of the Translatio S. Januarii. Here, the use of the memory of the Lombard prince in the Translatio S. Sosii illustrates how authors like John utilized shared (local) hagiographical lexicons in order to take control of past narratives, which were potentially damaging to a city’s reputation.

In addition to the memory of past authorities, John also established a contemporary hierarchy and social order within the Translatio S. Sosii. This hierarchy constitutes yet another tactic employed in order to reinforce the authority of Stephanus III and responds to the challenges faced by the Church in Naples during the tenth century. In general, John placed the events surrounding the inventio almost entirely in the hands of the ecclesiastical authorities: monks, , bishops, and, of course, the deacon himself. Yet these clerics all reported ultimately to

Stephanus.219 For instance, the actions of Abbot John of the monastery of Saint Severinus stressed the harmonious relationship between the monastic community of Naples and the bishop. When the monks of Saint Severinus reported their findings in the ruins of Misenum, Abbot John replied that “it would not be right to translate Sosius here without pontifical blessing.”220 Here, John the Deacon portrayed not only Stephanus’ control over the translation but also his episcopal guardianship over the monastery and Abbot John’s deference to him.

The cooperative relationship between Stephanus and churchmen like Abbot John was representative of a thriving spiritual community in Naples, where there was no apparent discord between the various of authority. This may have helped to counteract the recent sentence of

218 Translatio S. Sosii, 463: “Mane igitur facto, Stephanus episcopus et Gregorius consul cum omni populo sanctis occurrerunt exequiis . . . ” 219 An alternative interpretation is proposed by Granier, who argues that the social order in the text’s depositio scene (bishop, abbot, monks, duke, and lay people) was based on the model found in the ninth-century Liber pontificalis. In the Liber pontificalis, social order is divided between bishops and clergy, nobility, and lay people. See Granier, “Le peuple devant les saints,” 70. 220 Translatio S. Sosii, 460: “Sed quia non fore canonicum aestimavit, absque pontificali licentia, cuius et iuris erat, illuc transmittere . . . ” 59

excommunication from Rome as well as the challenges posed to Stephanus’ consecration as bishop. A sense of social cohesion also responded to a more general instability brought on by

Saracen invasions, which had negatively impacted the city’s monasteries.221 In particular, the Translatio demonstrated that, although their original monastery was abandoned, the refounded community of Saint Severinus remained whole.222

John described the story of the refoundation of Saint Severinus, including the destruction of Lucullanum, in his Translatio S. Severini, written shortly before his Translatio S. Sosii. In it, he told of the translatio of the monastery’s patron, St Severinus, from the ruins of Lucullanum to the new monastery in Naples (Map 2). The Translatio S. Severini commemorated the renewal of monastic culture in Naples through the recent arrival of St Severinus and testified to the preservation of the spiritual and social order within Naples.223 In some ways, the Translatio S. Sosii is a continuation of the message in the Translatio S. Severini. For instance, it is no coincidence that Abbot John of Saint Severinus played an important role in the discovery of Sosius’ relics. The arrival of Sosius meant a great deal to the monastic community of Saint Severinus. The community even changed its name to reflect the dual patronage of St Severinus and St Sosius after the discovery of Sosius’ relics.224 Since the relics of St Sosius were placed in the altar of the monastery of Saint Severinus, Sosius’ inventio represented the continued divine approval and protection for a somewhat recently relocated community as well as the endurance of monastic life within the city of Naples. The successful discovery of Sosius reminded John the Deacon’s audience that the spiritual prestige of Naples had remained intact. In addition to this, he highlighted a bond between the two ecclesiastical poles, the bishop and the abbot. In the Translatio, these church leaders supported one another in the search and promotion of Sosius’ relics. But Abbot John ultimately deferred authority over the translation and enshrinement to Bishop Stephanus, whose permission is sought to search for the relics and who performs the most significant tasks in the rituals surrounding Sosius’ cult.

221 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:656. 222 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:655-9. 223 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:75. 224 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:659; G. Galante, “Memorie dell’antico cenobio lucullano di S. Severino abate in Napoli,” in Napoli lette il 22 Febbraio 1869 nella Pontificia Accademia Tiberina (Naples: Tipografia dei Fratelli Testa, 1869), 1-42. For more on the impact of the Saracens in Neapolitan hagiography and particularly John the Deacon’s Translatio S. Severini and Translatio S. Sosii, see Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2: 584-6. 60

Stephanus’ centrality in the community of Naples is set into further relief by his performance in the liturgical celebrations that concluded Sosius’ discovery and enshrinement. Not only did the search for Sosius’ relics require Stephanus’ blessing to be legitimate, the saint would not enter the city until Stephanus arrived in Lucullanum in order to preside over the translation ceremony. Here, Stephanus’ authority was reflected also by the crowd made up of the duke and the people of Naples, which surrounded him as he arrived in Lucullanum. It may also be significant that Lucullanum was the former site of the monastery of Saint Severinus as well as other monastic communities, which had been destroyed in the early tenth century and relocated within the city walls.225 In this scene, the movement of the saint’s remains, and the bishop’s role in this movement, from a site of destruction to the urban Naples, underscores the vitality of the city under virtuous leadership. Once together, the crowd joined one another singing psalms in both

Greek and Latin for the entire night.226 Stephanus then asked John the Deacon to recount “all the things which had taken place concerning the discovery of the saint.”227 Following this, the bishop prayed before the entire crowd and then led the procession into the monastery of Saint Severinus. Once there, “the holy body was brought with honor into the monastery of the aforementioned abbot, and, soon after, was deposited in the altar of the church by the hand of the bishop.”228

While highlighting the multi linguistic yet harmonious identity of Naples, this scene also uncovers John’s appreciation for liturgical memory. Here, a past liturgical ritual was used as a tool to define social order. As the lay members of the community of Naples as well as their secular leader, Duke Gregory IV, emerged from the shadows for the first time in John’s text, it was Bishop Stephanus who led them in the final ceremony that united the saint and the city. Similar to the contrast with the role of Duke Gregory, Stephanus’ authority over the monastery of Saint Severinus is equally demonstrated because it was he, and not the abbot, who performed the depositio of the sacred remains. While Stephanus did not actively engage in the moment of discovery (this was John’s role as Stephanus’ representative), his authority was present on either

225 Cilento, Storia di Napoli, 2:658-9. 226 Translatio S. Sosii, 463: “per totam noctem unanimes Graecam Latinamque psalmosiam sonoris vocibus concreparant.” 227 Translatio S. Sosii, 463: “pro inexplebili gaudio praeceperunt nobis cuncta sibi suggere, quae de inventione ipsius fuerunt.” 228 Translatio S. Sosii, 463: “deductum est sanctissimum corpus cum omni gloria in monasterium diffamati abbatis, et nec multi post per manus praelibati antistitis reconditum est in alterio ecclesiae…” 61

side of the event, during the initial command to seek out the relics and the ultimate and crucial liturgy that concluded the narrative. Stephanus’ place was to remain in the urban center, venturing only as far as to meet the relics in Lucullanum, located close by on the city’s shoreline. But even here, on the periphery of the city, Stephanus III was accompanied by his people, the laity and the duke. In this way, Stephanus’ identity as a central power in the community of Naples is mirrored by his physical presence within the city and with his people.

John highlighted the centrality of liturgy in establishing communal identity while also identifying

Naples as a thriving center of spirituality.229 The liturgical procession physically moved Sosius’ relics from a remote and desolate site to the urban and populated Naples. While other towns, like Misenum, had been fragmented and left in ruins, the urban core of Naples remained whole and did so in large part through the dominion of Bishop Stephanus III and the effective functioning of ecclesiastical hierarchy. While the identity and memory of Januarius is subtly referenced in the text, it is not central. Rather, the circumstances of the early tenth century provide a more compelling context in which to situate John’s focus on the episcopal authority within Naples and his effort to take control of historical memory and identity.

Conclusions: Thematic Reciprocity in the Translatio and Diplomata ducum Neapolis

The memory of St Sosius’ inventio surfaced not only in John’s Translatio but also in a lengthy ducal charter from 907.230 Through the memory of the inventio, translatio, and depositio of St Sosius as well as St Severinus, this charter portrays Stephanus III and Gregory IV as intersecting lines of authority over the monastery of Saint Severinus and the entire population of Naples. In doing so, the charter reiterates the close bond between the bishop and duke in Naples in a similar manner as John’s Translatio and illustrates a thematic reciprocity between legal charters and liturgical sources using the inventio sequence as a focal point. This correlation shows the evolving role of inventiones and relic narratives in general in the relationships between bishops and dukes.

229 On the importance of psalms in translation ceremonies, see Brand, Holy Treasure, Sacred Song, 27. 230 The document is in DCDN, 1-3. 62

Although it comes from the ducal palace, the charter details a confirmation made to the monastery of Saint Severinus by both Duke Gregory IV and Bishop Athanasius III (907-?), Stephanus III’s successor. In fact, while the monastery itself seems to have been a favorite of the

Neapolitan dukes historically and it may even have been considered a ducal foundation,231 the formulae used to denote authority throughout the charter suggest that the authority over the monastery was held by both the duke and the bishop alike in the early tenth century. It begins by introducing Athanasius III and Gregory IV as partners in the governance of the city: “We, Athanasius the third, bishop of Naples by the grace of God, and equally Gregory the consul and duke of the people of Naples, declare according to our will. . .”232 Thus the language positions the bishop and duke as equal poles of authority, as if they were a solitary unit. The document continues to detail how the monastery of Saint Severinus, “constructed in our city (nostram civitatem)” was originally granted to the monks of Saint Severinus by Athanasius II. Here, the charter refers to a donation of land within the city walls, which was made by Athanasius II sometime before his death in 898. Athanasius II granted the land to the Abbot Acculsarius of Saint Severinus and his fifty monks after they left their original foundation on Lucullanum during the Saracen invasions of the tenth century.233 According to the charter, Athanasius stated that the monastery obtained the land from his authority and no condition should challenge this decree in perpetuity.234

When speaking of Athanasius II, the language in the charter is ambiguous, and for good reason. In the passage, the charter notes that Athanasius was “our predecessor” (“predecessor noster”) but does not specify if it refers to either the bishop or the duke. This may have been because, in his donation to the community of Saint Severinus, Athanasius II was acting as both bishop and duke. Indeed, we are then told that Athanasius made this decree to both “his clergy and noblemen,” distinguishing the secular and sacred realms of authority within the city.235

231 Skinner, Family Power, 86. 232DCDN, 1: “Ideo nos Athanasius Dei gratia tertius S. Neapolitane ecclesie Presul, pariterque Gregorius neapolitanorum Consul et Dux voluntarie profitemur . . .” 233 DCDN, 2. 234 DCDN, 2: “decrevit . . .nullam regulam, nullumque cesum, neque aliam conditionem in eodem monasterio Sancti Severini aliquando aberet, sed terram sua potestatis emit, ut in perpetuum, sicut a religioso magistro eius Acculsario incohatum fuerat, monachorum illic congregatio regulatiter habitaret.” 235 DCDN, 2: “Huic prefatus Athanasius . . . decrevit una cum cunto clero et magnatibus suis . . .” 63

Following this, the charter then includes an excursus of how the dual patronage of the monastery was continued in the time of Duke Gregory IV and Bishop Stephanus III.

In the voice of the duke, the charter notes that after a devastating raid on Lucullanum, “we Gregory the consul and all our people together with the lord Stephanus the most holy bishop and our paternal uncle decreed that . . . the body of St Severinus the confessor of Christ, which lay for a long time in that castellum, ought to be collected in the monastery of the aforementioned abbot [John].”236 In the description of the translation and enshrinement of St Severinus’ relics, the document does not borrow from John the Deacon’s Translatio S. Severini, as might be expected. In the Translatio S. Severini, the language used to describe the translatio and depositio of Severinus is quite different.237 Instead, the author of the charter seems rather to have been influenced by the Translatio S. Sosii especially concerning the emphasis placed on Stephanus’ role in the ceremony. In the charter, the scene reads as follows:

After Lucullanum was destroyed, immediately the aforementioned Bishop Stephanus, our paternal uncle, with all his clergy and we, similarly with all our people, carried the body of the holy and venerable confessor, with candles and incense, to the monastery of the aforementioned abbot. The body was placed in the church within the altar dedicated to the name of this very saint by the hand of this lord Bishop Stephanus.”

(Destructo igitur castro ipso, statim dictus antistes dompnus Stephanus patruus noster cum cuncta clero et nos pariter cum omni populo venerabilis sancti confessoris corpus abbatis detulimus, et per manus eiusdem dompni Stephani episcopi sancti collocatum est in ecclesia et altari que erat vocabulo ipsius sancti dedicata.)238

Here, as in the Translatio S. Sosii, Stephanus took the central role in enshrining the relics of the saint. The author of the charter even used very similar wording to describe the event. For

236 DCDN, 2: “Huiuscemodi ergo pavore perculsi nos Gregorius consul et cunctus populus noster una cum dompno Stephano sanctissimo episcopo patruo nostro decrevimus. . .” 237 Translatio S. Severini, 456. In the Translatio S. Severini, the depositio scene similarly plays out with Stephanus III but reads quite differently than the Translatio S. Sosii: “Postero autem die pontifex et clerus, dux et optimates passimque populus universae conditionis et aetatis matutino tempore properantes, se in occursum cum dominicae crucis vexillis odoriferisque incensis in praemissi oppidi campo sanctis exequiis obviarunt, et certatim supplicem exhibentes venerationem, alternantibus choris Latinis et Graecis, ad monasterium saepefati abbatis debito obsequio concinnatisque luminaribus cineres sanctos deducunt. Quos praesul extemplo cum Domini paecursoris et sancti Gervasii et Protasii reliquiis, quas cum eis collocatas repererant officiosissime condidit in altari.” 238 DCDN, 3. 64

instance, in the Translatio S. Sosii, Sosius’ relics were enshrined “per manus praelibati antistitis .

. . in alario ecclesiae sancti prius Severini vocabulo dedicatae.”239 This parallel strongly suggests that the charter may even have been based on the contents of John’s Translatio S. Sosii, since the charter postdated the composition of the Translatio between 906 and 907 by less than a year. If this is the case, we are faced with strong thematic correspondence between a legal document, like the charter, and a hagiographical legend, like the Translatio.240 This thematic and literary proximity also underscores the reality that these types of sources, charter and sacred narrative, existed, were composed, and copied in the same intellectual spheres. In this narrative portion of the charter, legendary memory expressed in a liturgical celebration and a land transaction overlapped, offering new frameworks in which to interpret diplomatic and liturgical sources together.241

Following this description of the translation and enshrinement of St Severinus, the charter then details that the patronage modeled by Gregory IV and Stephanus III was maintained by Gregory and Stephanus’ successor, Bishop Athanasius III. In the document, Gregory and Athanasius promised to uphold the rights of the monastery to its land and possessions in Naples. Again, the duke and the bishop took on one voice: “We, Bishop Athanasius and Duke Gregory, with the consent of all the clergy and also all the guardians of this monastery, in which the bodies of Saints Severinus and Sosius are buried. . . . decree that this monastery. . . and all things which appear to belong to it . .remain still within the power of this abbot [John] in perpetuity.”242 Thus, the intertwining authorities of episcopal and ducal authority, established here by Athanasius II, was maintained by the Duke, Bishop Stephanus III and his successor, Athanasius III. This charter makes clear that nowhere was this bond articulated more clearly than through the memory of the discovery and enshrinement of the relics of saints.

239 Translatio S. Sosii, 463. 240 For the term “thematic correspondences,” see Brand, Holy Treasure, 46. 241 Brand, Holy Treasure, 46. 242 DCDN, 3: “ . . . nos prescripti Athanasius Presul et Gregorius Consul cum consensu omnium clericorum, nec non et parentum nostrorum eidem monasterio, in quo corpora sanctorum Severini scilicet confessoris et Sosii martyris collocata erant, obtulimus monasterium eiusdem sancti Severini de Castro Lucullano . . . cum omni proprietate sua undecumque, aut quomodocumque perintere ei viderint, mobile vel immobile, sine omni censu vel regula, omni conditione, ut amodo et in perpetuis temporibus in potestate sit predicti abbatis et successorum eius.” 65

It is often the case that inventiones were used to articulate bonds between different authorities in a given community. This is clear in the Translatio S. Sosii and all of the sources we will encounter in this dissertation. However, it is not as common to see this relationship echoed so clearly in other contemporary sources, to witness its near immediate reverberation in a community. The 907 charter, composed within a year of John’s Translatio and possibly based on the source itself, shows how the memory of ancient saints and the legends of their discovery weighed heavily in a community’s imagination. These events amounted not only to spiritual honor and the blessings of the saints but also carried tangible and legal weight. For the monastery of Saint Severinus, the memory of the inventio and Stephanus’ episcopal patronage helped to secure its possession of property and status within the city. Duke Gregory’s influence over the monastery was important to maintain, as it was one of the wealthiest and most significant communities in his city. Stephanus’ role in the liturgy surrounding the discovery, translation, and enshrinement of relics allowed him to sharpen his own authority in a pivotal moment in the formation of civic identity.

66

Chapter 2: The Discovery of St Pardus of Larino: Remembering the Saints along the Lombard-Byzantine Frontier Introduction

Like the Translatio S. Sosii, our next source, the Vita et obitus S. Pardi Larinatum auct. Radoino

(BHL 6465)243 (hereafter Vita S. Pardi), utilizes the memory of the past, both distant and near, in order to reimagine the history of the diocese of Larino for what was probably a late tenth- or eleventh-century audience. During this period, Larino was located right along the Lombard- Byzantine frontier in northern Apulia. This was a region where the contest between Lombards and Byzantines over land and power led at times to an uncertain political landscape, where territories passed in and out of the hands of Lombard and Byzantine authorities. In the Vita S. Pardi, the memory of the past and the figure of St Pardus helped to connect the origin story of Larino with the history of the Latin and, more specifically, Beneventan church. In doing so, Radoinus, likely a deacon of Larino and the author of the Vita S. Pardi, used the discovery of the relics of St Pardus as a way to denigrate any claim that the Byzantine Church may have made on the region and to establish a Latin ecclesiastical identity for the local community of Larino by reinforcing its bond with the Beneventan archdiocese.

While Radoinus probably composed the Vita between the late tenth and mid eleventh century, by the late eleventh century the narrative of St Pardus’ inventio and translatio was transmitted to Benevento, where it found a prominent place in the liturgy. The Vita was bound in a liturgical manuscript sometime in the second half of the eleventh century along with other hagiographies that similarly reveal a focus on saints of Greek origin and identity who were venerated in the south. This chapter will explore how the Vita S. Pardi was used to create memory in both settings, Larino and Benevento between the late tenth and late eleventh century.

243 A later version of the Vita S. Pardi was edited by G. Hensche, in AASS May 6, 371-373. For citations to the Vita S. Pardi, I have relied on my own edition, provided in Appendix 1. 67

Scholarship on the Vita S. Pardi

Despite its importance as an account of relic discovery and veneration in early medieval Apulia, the Vita S. Pardi has received little scholarly attention.244 The Vita S. Pardi tells of the life of St Pardus, a third-century bishop from Greece who, after being expelled from his diocese, spent the rest of his life as the bishop of Lucera in Apulia. After his death sometime after the middle of the third century, Pardus’ relics were discovered and translated to the nearby city of Larino. In the course of outlining Pardus’ posthumous miracles, the Vita also narrates the early histories of the dioceses of Lucera and Larino as these territories faced three sequences of incursions, first at the hands of Byzantine Emperor Constans II and then later by the Saracens and, at last, by the Huns. Some scholarship on the text has used it for the information it reveals about early Christian settlements in northern Apulia, despite the fact that the Vita was probably composed centuries after the foundation of these territories and therefore is not necessarily a reliable witness to the events of the fifth, sixth, or even seventh centuries.245

In other scholarship on hagiography of medieval southern Italy where the Vita is mentioned, it has only received cursory attention. D’Angelo briefly suggested that the Vita was a product of anti-Byzantine sentiments during the tenth century.246 Likewise, Amalia Galdi included the Vita as a witness of the fluidity of political boundaries and episcopal jurisdiction in tenth century

244 For instance, the Vita S. Pardi is absent in a recent catalogue of Apulian hagiography by C. Colomba, “Repertorio agiografico pugliese,” Hagiographica 16 (2009): 1-53; it also goes unmentioned in Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche pugliesi tra Oriente e Occidente: il casi di San Barsanofio,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi in Puglia nell'alto medioevo: atti del congresso internazionale di studio sull'alto medioevo, Savelletri di Fasano (BR), 3-6 novembre 2011 (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 2012), 406-31. Otranto mentions the text in passing in “Agiografia e origini cristianesimo in Puglia,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 166. It is likewise not mentioned in Martin, “Les modèles paléochrétiens dans l’hagiographie apulienne.” Martin did however address the text’s reliance on the Vita Barbati in “A propos de la Vita de Barbatus, évêque de Bénévent,” Mélanges de l’Ecole française de Rome. Moyen-Age, Temps modernes 86.1 (1974): 137-164. 245 In particular, the Vita has been used as a source for the early Christianisation of Lucera and Lesina from late antiquity through the reign of Constans II. For instance, Duchesne, “Les évêques d’Italie et l’invasion lombarde,” 105; Lanzoni, Le diocesi, 272-3; Martin, La Pouille, 149 n. 268; P. Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini (sec. VII-XI),” in Lucera tra tardoantico e altomedioevo: atti del 18° convegno sulla storia del cristianesimo in Puglia, Lucera, 26 maggio 1984, ed. P. Soccio (Lucera: Comune, 1984), 80-3; Otranto, Italia meridionale e Puglia paleocristiane: saggi storici (Bari: Edipuglia, 1991), 204-5. 246 D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina,” 51. Otranto, Italia meridionale, 204-8; Otranto, “Agiografia e origini del cristianesimo in Puglia,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 165-6; Otranto, “Pardo vescovo di Salpi, non di Arpi,” Vetera Christianorum 19 (1982): 159-60; Corsi used the Vita in his study on the campaigns of Byzantine emperor, Constans II in La spedizione italiana di Costante II (Bologna: Patron editore, 1983), 65; G. D’Ameli, Storia della città di Lucera (Lucera: Tip. Scepi, 1981), 140-1; Lanzoni, Le diocesi, 273-6. 68

Byzantine Apulia.247 Galdi has attributed the Vita to ongoing conflicts between the three communities mentioned in the text, Lucera, Lesina, and Larino, sometime in the tenth century as the region underwent the struggle over land between the Byzantines and Lombards; but she concluded that the lack of evidence surrounding these events has made a more precise context for the Vita impossible to discern.248 While such an analysis provides a convincing backdrop for the composition of the Vita, Galdi examined the source solely in terms of the broad political context. My work, by contrast, builds upon Galdi’s but considers the Vita’s transmission, its intended audience, and its meaningful symbolic use of the past. Ultimately, these aspects give meaning to the Vita and enable the text to be situated in a more precise local context while addressing its dissemination through the performative aspects of the liturgy. My focus on these aspects also leads to a broader discussion of the ways in which liturgical manuscripts were among the most powerful tools to spread messages of identity and spirituality as well as providing a canvas for communities to reimagine the past.

It is perhaps a general lack of historical evidence surrounding the composition of the Vita that has caused it to be omitted from discussions of hagiographical sources from medieval Apulia.

Little is known regarding its author, a deacon named Radoinus.249 Given his familiarity with the community of Larino, it seems highly plausible that Radoinus was the deacon there, although he did not explicitly state this in the Vita.250 The only other identifying information Radoinus left was that he was asked by a mulier and famula Christi named Mirata to compose the history of St Pardus. It is possible that Mirata was a member of a female monastic community but, as the work of Eliana Magnani has recently emphasized, the designation of famula Christi may have also referred to a woman living in the secular world, possibly to a widow or noblewoman in

247 Galdi, “Vescovi, santi, e poteri politici nella Puglia settentrionale (secoli IX-XI),” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 359-62. 248 Galdi, “Vescovi, santi, e poteri,” 361: “la documentazione superstite non ci consente di ricostruire altrimenti, ma alla quale induce a ricorrere, oltre la vicinanza geografica dei due siti, la considerazione dei più generali motivi politici ricollegabili alla ricordata, dinamica situazione che interessò il territorio in oggetto nel corso del X secolo.” 249 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 270va: “Ego Radoinus peccator et indignus levita in dei servitio.” There is no other extant (known) hagiographic source attributed to Radoinus. 250 Given this, while it is probable that Radoinus was connected to the church community of Larino, there is no evidence that conclusively proves his appointment there. 69

service of the Church.251 Like Radoinus, there is no other known mention of Mirata in documents associated with the diocese of Larino.252

Other challenges posed by the Vita include the fact that Radoinus did not discuss historical details regarding the foundation and the administration of Larino. Further, even the identity of St Pardus has been the topic of some debate among scholars. The question has been whether there was one late-antique bishop by the name of Pardus, or two. One may have been the subject of the Vita, a third-century bishop of Lucera and the patron of the diocese of Larino; the other may have been present at the 314 Council of Arles and probably served as the bishop of Salpi.253 Lanzoni conjectured that these two figures may have been the same but, as the work of Otranto has shown, there is no evidence that connects the two saints.254 Pardus’ Vita tells us that he was originally from Greece, a bishop in the Peloponnesus. Peloponnesus refers to the vast territory in the southern part of Greece. But Otranto has also suggested that Pardus was more than likely a name of Latin origin and has numerous epigraphic attestations in the Beneventan region.255

Also problematic is the fact that the current research on the Vita relies on an incomplete recension from a thirteenth-century lectionary, which in turn is missing its final folio and the conclusion of the Vita.256 Meanwhile, the earliest extant version (in Benevento, Biblioteca

251 E. Magnani, “Female House Ascetics from the Fourth to the Twelfth Centuries,” in Cambridge History of Medieval Monasticism in the Latin West, ed. A. Beach and I. Cochelin, Cambridge New History (New York: Cambridge University Press, to appear). 252 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 270vb: “cominus astitit ante me quaedam Christi famula, Mirata nomine, absecrans cum lacrymis, provoluta pedibus, caputque solo inhaerens, ut istius clarissimi viri actus exarem.” For more, see G. A. Tria, Memorie storiche civili, ed ecclesiastiche della città e diocesi di Larino, metropoli degli Antichi Fentani (Roma: Zempel, 1744), 638-9. There is no mention of Radoinus or Mirata in extant charters associated with Larino in the following collections: A. Petrucci, ed. Codice diplomatico del monastero benedettino di S. Maria di Tremiti (1005-1237) (Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano, 1960); A. Ciaralli, V. de Donato, V. Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte del capitolo della cattedrale di Benevento (668-1200) (Rome: Istituto storico italiano, 2002); Martin, ed. Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae: cod. Vat. Lat. 4939, 2 vols. (Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 2000); Nor is there mention of Radoinus or Mirata in relevant archival sources from Puglia. E.g. T. Colamarco, ed., Le pergamene di Ascoli Satriano conservate nella biblioteca di Montevergine, Codice diplomatico pugliese 36 (Bari: Società di storia patria per la Puglia, 2012). 253 Pardus, bishop of Arpi, was included in a seventeenth-century edition of the list of bishops present during the Council of Arles. See J. D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio (Florence: Expensis Antonii Zatta Veneti, 1759), 2:476: “Pardus episcopus, cresens diaconus, de civitate Arpiensium, provincia Apuliae.” Otranto has shown this transcription to have been a misreading of Alpiensium or Salpiensium. Otranto, Italia meridionale, 159-170. 254 Lanzoni, Le diocesi, 273; Otranto, Italia meridionale, 168; Otranto, “Pardo vescovo di Salpi, non di Arpi,” 159- 69. 255 Otranto, Italia meridionale, 167. 256 For more on this, see Dolbeau, “Le légendaire de la cathédrale de Bovino,” Analecta Bollandiana 96 (1978): 144, n. 2; Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:160. 70

Capitolare, MS 6, fols. 269b-273v, now abbreviated BC 6)—unedited until now and offered in Appendix 2—dates probably to the second half of the eleventh century. This places it not too long after the period in which Radoinus may have composed the Vita. The new edition enables an interpretation of the historical and codicological context in which the text was composed and transmitted. Beyond this, my study of the Vita pays special attention to its place within the wider collection of sources in BC 6, considering how and why certain narratives were grouped together in this homiliary and what, if any, message the organization of BC 6 was intended to convey to audiences celebrating the liturgy in eleventh-century Benevento. This approach is rarely taken in studies of hagiographical narratives from southern Italy. Previous studies of the Vita of St Pardus, for instance, have disembodied the source from its manuscript history, paying too little attention to its transmission in a Beneventan liturgical codex and, therefore, may have missed a crucial step towards understanding its authorship and audience.

Jean-Marie Martin considered the Vita and translatio of St Sabinus of Canosa to be “la seule hagiographie épiscopale apulienne d'époque lombarde.”257 Along those same lines, saint veneration in pre-Norman Apulia is well known for its “legacy of discontinuity” brought on by nearly continuous warfare and ecclesiastical disruption through much of the early medieval period.258 Therefore, the Vita S. Pardi provides an additional resource for understanding popular devotion and remembered networks of ecclesiastical and episcopal authority in this region and time period.

Historical Context: Larino and its neighbors between Byzantium and Benevento

The histories of Larino, Lucera, and Lesina follow a pattern of settlement, decline, and economic expansion between the sixth and eleventh centuries. Like other territories in Apulia, the three cities we explore here were populated at an early date, possibly even as Roman settlements, but

257 Martin, La Pouille, 248-9. The Historia vitae inventionis s. Sabini episcopi (BHL 7443) was composed by an anonymous author in early ninth-century Canosa. The Historia is printed in AASS February 2, 324-29. For more see, Campione, “La Vita di Sabino, vescovo di Canosa: un exemplum di agiografia longobarda,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 365-403. 258 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 30. For more on the lack of hagiographical sources in early-medieval Apulia, see Martin, La Pouille, 248-50 and “Les modèles paléochrétiens dans l’hagiographie apulienne,” 67-86; Galdi, “Vescovi, santi e poteri,” 341-363; Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery,” 171-212. 71

faced a protracted period of urban decline after the Greco-Gothic wars of the sixth century.259 Between the tenth and eleventh centuries, however, they experienced an economic as well as cultural revival. Located in the Daunia region, a stretch of land in the Capitanata covering the Gargano promontory, the Tavoliere plains, and the Daunia mountains, these cities became valuable in part because of their potential for agricultural and economic resources. For instance, Lesina was valued for its location along the coastline, while others, like Lucera, promised economic stability from its fertile farmland. These borderlands, poised between Byzantine and Latin jurisdictions, were also key for the expansion and consolidation of power. Thus, their transformation between the tenth and eleventh centuries should be seen in light of the competition between the Lombards and the Byzantines and then, later, the Normans.

Larino was an early settlement in Apulia, populated and recognized as a diocese by the fifth century.260 A letter of attests to the presence of a bishop there in the year 433-4 by the name of Justus.261 At the end of the fifth century, the faithful of Larino requested that their bishop consecrate a church dedicated to Michael the Archangel, whose shrine was located in the nearby diocese of Siponto at this early date.262 Further evidence for the presence of a bishop in Larino continues through the sixth century when a Bishop Secundinus wrote to John, bishop of

Larino, to provide care for monasteries in the regions of and Samnium.263

Between the seventh and ninth centuries, records for activity in Larino are slim.264 While it was clearly established as a diocese at an early date, Larino may have lost its bishop and populace during the Lombard invasions of the seventh century, a not infrequent occurrence in early- medieval Apulia.265 It is even possible that, like other dioceses in the region during this time, it ceased to exist as a fully-operating diocese until the ninth or tenth centuries and may even have been abandoned altogether and then later resettled.

259 For more general discussions on the geography and history of the Capitanata, see the collection of essays, M. Mariani and R. Bianco, eds., Capitanata medievale (Foggia: C. Grenzi, 1998). 260 Otranto, Italia meridionale, 19, 21. 261 Lanzoni, Le diocesi, 277; The letter is in S. Lowenfeld, ed. Epistolae pontificum romanorum ineditae (Leipzig: Veit et comp., 1885), 1. See also, Otranto, Italia meridionale, 70. 262 Otranto, Italia meridionale, 70. 263 The letter is in P. M. Gassò and C. M. Battle, Pelagii I papae epistulae quae supersunt (556-561) (Montserrat: L'Abadia de Montserrat, 1956), 212-3; Ughelli, Italia sacra, 8:304; Martin, La Pouille, 145. 264 See Petrucci’s suggestion that Larino may not have been considered a diocese until the tenth century: Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 1:21. 265 Duchesne, “Les évêchés d’Italie et l’invasion lombarde,” 234. 72

In the ninth and tenth centuries, the region surrounding Larino changed with the expansion of Byzantine authority in southern Italy. During this time, the Byzantine empire extended its authority throughout Apulia, establishing a jurisdiction known as the thema of Longobardia.266 It is hard now to pin down the exact limits of the Byzantine thema, but it is certain that it was made up largely of territories formerly under the control of the Lombard Beneventan principality and stretched across most of Apulia.267 According to Vera von Falkenhausen and Pasquale Corsi, between the late ninth and early tenth century, the northern limits of the Byzantine thema may have reached the city of Siponto. Graham Loud notes, however, that the territory firmly under the control of the Byzantines only reached the city of Barletta, about thirty miles south of Siponto and the Gargano peninsula. According to Loud, the borderlands north of Barletta were still contested during most of the tenth century.268 Near the eastern border of the thema lay the cities of Bovino and Ascoli Satriano (Map 3 and 4).269

266 V. von Falkenhausen, “Le istituzioni Bizantine in Puglia nell’Alto Medioevo,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 186-7; Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 86; von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 32, which underscores the difficulties associated with delineating the geographical boundaries of the thema. 267 von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 34. 268 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 32. 269 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 86. 73

Map 3 Main locations mentioned in Chapter 2.

Map 4 Northern portion of Byzantine Apulia, c. 1000.

74

While Larino itself did not lie within the Byzantine thema, it was located close to the Byzantine territory, along the fluid northern political frontier between the Lombards and Byzantines. Thus, for the tenth and eleventh centuries, the history of Larino must be understood within the broader context of the contest over land in northern Apulia between the Lombard and Byzantine powers.270 It is crucial, therefore, to discuss Larino’s chronology as a frontier territory during this period specifically in comparison to the neighboring cities of Lesina and Lucera, both of which play heavily in the formation of Larino’s identity as a community loyal to the Beneventan archbishop and the Latin Church in the Vita S. Pardi. In particular, we see in the Vita how the movement of Pardus’ relics traces the historical allegiances of the cities to the Latin Church.

Like Larino, Lucera was an at an early date. According to the Vita S. Pardi, St Pardus reigned as bishop over Lucera sometime in the third century. Unfortunately a more precise date is not given by Radoinus but, if we are to trust the Vita, Pardus’ career as bishop must have coincided with ’ life (d. 253), since it was Cornelius who appointed Pardus as bishop of Lucera. Located in the Tavoliere delle Puglie, Lucera was a valuable economic resource for its agricultural richness.271 In 663, in the words of Paul the Deacon, Lucera was an “opulent city” before it was demolished during a battle between the Byzantine

Emperor Constans II (641-668) and the Lombard Prince Romuald I (662-687).272 This destruction also plays into the outcomes in the Vita S. Pardi. According to the story, on account of the violence posed by the battles between the Lombards and the Byzantines, the bishop of Lucera fled to Lesina, carrying Pardus’ relics with him.

Eventually, Lucera was rebuilt and placed under the authority of a Lombard gastald by the eighth century and was an operating diocese subordinate to the bishop of Benevento.273 In addition to this, by as early as the eighth century, it appears that the bishop of Lucera was also the acting

270 For more on this conflict, see Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 628-30; Corsi, Ai confini dell’impero. Bisanzio e la Puglia dal VI all’XI secolo (Bari: Biblios, 2003) and “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 85; For a discussion of the evolution of Byzantine Apulia, see von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, ch. 5; A. De Francesco, “Origini e sviluppo del feudalesimo nel Molise fino alla caduta della dominazione normanna,” Archivio storico per le province napoletane, 34 (1909): 656. 271 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 84. 272 Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardorum, ed. L. Bethmann and G. Waitz, in MGH SRLI,147; For Lucera’s early history see Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 80-1. 273 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 84; Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 8:316. 75

bishop of Lesina.274 Lesina may have operated as a secondary residence for the bishop of Lucera. The continued submission of the see of Lesina to Lucera through the eleventh century can be seen in documents where matters pertaining to land in Lesina are judged according to jurisdiction of the bishop of Lucera.275

The general history of Lesina follows a similar pattern to that of Larino and Lucera. While Lesina was populated by the sixth century, there was a demographic and economic decline after the Lombard invasions of the seventh century followed by gradual rebuilding and economic expansion through the eleventh century.276 As a territory, Lesina was an attractive location for a number of reasons. Whereas Lucera derives its agricultural wealth from its location in the plains of Apulia, Lesina is strategically positioned as a coastal town and thus offered access to the seafaring networks of trade in the Adriatic sea. Also, Lesina lies on the banks of the Lake of Lesina and a portion of the river Lauro. The Lake of Lesina extends along the northern coastline of the Gargano peninsula. Pasquale Corsi and others have shown the high value placed on these bodies of water, which were not only important natural barriers but also rich economic resources, especially for fishing.277 Monasteries, in particular, were beneficiaries of land in Lesina and rights to fishing in its lake between the eighth and tenth centuries. The Lombard lords of this period donated properties with relative frequency in Lesina to the abbeys of Montecassino, Santa

Sofia of Benevento, and San Vincenzo al Volturno.278

Together, Lucera, Lesina, and Larino form a natural boundary to the Gargano peninsula, where the Lombard shrine of St Michael the Archangel is located. The shrine of St Michael was and remains a celebrated holy place and pilgrimage site where St Michael reportedly appeared to the citizens of the diocese of Siponto in the fifth century. The see of Siponto, in which the shrine on

274 See Corsi, Ai confini and “Il Gargano nell’alto medioevo: popolamento e quadri territoriali,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 236. In a 977 confirmation made by Prince Pandulf I to the monks of Montecassino, historic documents from the see of Lesina were consulted. Among these, a certain Marcus, bishop of Lucera, is cited as having donated land in Lesina to Montecassino: “prime ex ipsis scriptionibus quomodo Marco episcopo sedie Lucerine . . .” For this document, see D. T. Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie cassinesi in Capitanata, vol. 1: Lesina (Montecassino: Abbey of Montecassino, 1937), no. 10. Corsi found evidence for a Bishop Marcus of Lucera dating to 743 in Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 87. See Ughelli, Italia sacra, 7:316-7. 275 Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no. 10. 276 A. Lombardi, “Lesina e sua laguna nell’XI secolo,” in Capitanata e l'Italia meridionale nel secolo XI da Bisanzio ai Normanni: atti delle II Giornate medievali di Capitanata: Apricena, 16-17 aprile 2005, ed. P. Favia and G. De Venuto (Bari: Edipuglia, 2011), 169. 277 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 82. 278 Corsi, “Il Gargano nell’alto medioevo,” 230-3. 76

Monte Gargano is located, was among the most prized territories for the Lombard principality and the Beneventan church.279 Indeed, the Church of Benevento had long-established claims for authority over the see of Siponto and the shrine on Monte Gargano, dating back to as early as the seventh century.280 Since Lesina, Lucera, and Larino radiate out of the Gargano peninsula, forming geographical stepping stones to the diocese of Siponto and St Michael’s sanctuary, they were valuable outposts for control in this frontier.281

It seems that Lucera continued to be a Lombard territory during the majority of the tenth century, until it fell to the Byzantines in the .282 Lesina, however, passed back and forth between the Lombards and Byzantines during the tenth century. For instance, Lesina was controlled by the Byzantines in 928, according to a document dated following the regnal years of the Byzantine emperor.283 Although the Lombards regained control over Lesina, by the mid-tenth century it was unclear if the city would remain in Lombard hands for long. In a 944 document, Abbot Mailpotus of Montecassino granted some land in Lesina to the Lombard judge, Urso, for the duration of fifteen years. Mailpotus noted, however, that once the fifteen years were over, there was the possibility that the fisheries and the land in Lesina may be held either by a Lombard

279 Scholars have referred to the shrine of St Michael as the “national” shrine of the Lombard principality. Corsi, “Il Gargano,” 235. 280 See Everett, “The Liber de Apparitione S. Michaelis in Monte Gargano and the Hagiography of Dispossession,” Analecta Bollandiana 120 (2002): 364-91. The Liber de Apparitione (BHL 5948) is edited by Waitz in MGH SRLI, 541-3. Research on this source as well as pilgrimage to St Michael’s shrine on Monte Gargano is vast. See, for example, P. Bouet, et. al. eds., Culte et pèlerinages à Saint Michel en Occident: les trois monts dédiés à l'archange (Rome: Ecole française de Rome, 2003); Otranto and C. Carletti, eds., Il Santuario di S. Michele Arcangelo sul Gargano: dalle origini al X secolo (Bari: Edipuglia, 1990) (which also contains a copy of the edition found in MGH. See p.73-6); V. Sivo, “Ricerche sulla tradizione manoscritta e sul testo dell’Apparitio latina,” in Culto e insediamenti micaelici nell'Italia meridionale fra tarda antichità e medioevo: atti del convegno internazionale, Monte Sant'Angelo, 18-21 novembre 1992, eds. C. Carletti and Otranto (Bari: Edipuglia, 1994), 95-106; S. Leanza, “Una versione greca inedita dell’Apparitio S. Michaelis in monte Gargano,” Vetera Christianorum 22 (1985): 291-316. On pilgrimage to the shrine, see especially G. Casiraghi, G. Sergi, eds., Pellegrinaggi e santuari di San Michele nell'Occidente medievale = Pèlerinages et sanctuaires de Saint-Michel dans l'Occident médiéval: atti del secondo convegno internazionale dedicato all'Arcangelo Michele: atti del XVI Convegno Sacrense (Sacra di San Michele, 26-29 settembre 2007) (Bari: Edipuglia, 2009); Otranto, “Dalla Puglia all’Europa: San Michele e San Nicola tra culto, pellegrinaggi e tradizioni popolari,” in I santuari d’Italia, Puglia, eds. Otranto and I. Aulisa (Roma: De Luca Editori d'Arte, 2012); Otranto, “Agiografia e origini del cristianesimo in Puglia,” 163-84. 281 For more on the geographical importance of Lesina and Larino, in particular, see Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 1:21-2. 282 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 84. 283 Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no. 6; von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 32-3. 77

gastaldus or Byzantine strategus.284 Abbot Mailpotus was correct in his concern for the land in Lesina because it would eventually be taken by the Byzantines along with Lucera by the end of the tenth century.

By contrast, there is no explicit evidence that Larino was ever captured by the Byzantines. Instead, it remained loyal to the Lombard princes, and documents from the tenth century portray

Larino as a suffragan of the Beneventan diocese.285 In 943, Pope Marinus II reconfirmed Beneventan episcopal authority over the Christian communities of Bovino, Ascoli, Larino, and

Siponto, as well as the church of St Michael on Monte Gargano.286 Here, the pope expressly mentioned protection of these sees from Greek enemies. However, while showing that Larino was both attached to Lombard secular and ecclesiastical powers, these sources do not give a clear picture of the exact situation in Larino. For instance, there is neither mention of a bishop of Larino nor of any churches there nor of a Lombard temporal authority. It may be that Larino, while considered a suffragan diocese of Benevento, did not have its own bishop and was still in the process of rebuilding its population.287

A 949 confirmation sheds some light on the situation in the Church of Larino. Here, Prince Pandulf I confirmed the abbey of Montecassino’s rights over a church of St Benedict in

Larino.288 The 949 confirmation mentions that this ecclesiam S. Benedicti was built by a priest

284 The document is transcribed in Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no. 8: “Sic tamen ut si infra supradict[os] ann[os] prefata piscaria et terras que nos dedimus strategi aut castaldeus seu pars publica eorum tulerint per fortiam. . .”; Also cited in von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 32-3; 285 Presumably Larino was also under the control of Lombard princes during this period, but there is little evidence for secular administration there during this time. An early clue for Lombard authority over Larino comes from the ninth century. In 840, the Lombard prince Radelchis I (d. 851) granted his treasurer the “entire forest of our sacred palace, which is located in the confines of Larino” (“totum waldum sacri nostri palatii qui esse videtur finibus Lariensis.”). The document is in Ughelli, Italia sacra, 10:470. See also, Rotili, “Un inedito edificio della Longobardia minore: la chiesa madre di Frigento (),” in Longobardia et longobardi, 283. 286 Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 27-8; See also Duchesne, “Les évêchés,” 106-7; J. Gay, L'Italia meridionale e l'impero bizantino: dall'avvento di Basilio I alla resa di Bari ai Normanni (867-1071) (Sala Bolognese: Forni, 1980), 332; Ughelli, Italia sacra, 8:50. 287 Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 1:21; De Francesco, Origini e sviluppi, 656. 288 When it came to the Lombard-Byzantine frontier, monasteries were places betwixt and between hegemonies, spaces belonging entirely neither to Byzantine nor Lombard forces, as well as powerful channels of asserting the presence of temporal lords. For more on this, see F. Panarelli, “Potere e monachesimo ceti dirigenti e mondo monastico in Puglia nell’alto medioevo,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 279. Monecassino’s ties with Byzantium are well known. Early after the foundation of the Byzantine thema of Longobardia in 891/2, Montecassino began to receive donations from Byzantine officials. Byzantine patronage of Montecassino continued as long as Byzantium held power in Italy until the second half of the eleventh century. For Montecassino and Byzantium, see H. Bloch, in the Middle

78

and monk named Leo who at the time also acted as the pseudo-episcopus of Larino, a rare phrase meaning roughly “false bishop”.289 On the one hand, this shows that Larino was an operating diocese in the mid-tenth century, which was under the control of the Lombard prince. It also suggests the likelihood of monastic activity there, since Leo is named as both a priest and a monk. On the other hand, the fact that at this point Larino only had a pseudo-episcopus suggests perhaps that there was still a lack of centralized and continuous episcopal administration in the diocese.290 Furthermore, there is no mention of Pardus’ cult nor the presence of his relics in Larino in any of the extant charters, even though his Vita recalls that his relics were translated there sometime before the tenth century.

In the 960s and , tensions over land throughout southern Italy escalated as the Byzantine presence grew stronger. Byzantine troops even made it as far as the Lombard capital of Capua in

969 but were ultimately unable to take hold of the city.291 Around the same time, the independent coastal duchies in Campania, such as Amalfi and Naples, had allied with the Byzantine empire. The Byzantine alignment of these duchies, rich outposts for seafaring trade, surely added to the tensions between Byzantium and the Lombards.292 Meanwhile, the Byzantine hold over Apulia remained strong.

In response to the growing Byzantine power, the Lombard Prince of Capua and Benevento, Pandulf I Ironhead (961-981), allied with Emperor Otto I and the papacy to exert pressure on the Byzantine forces in Apulia through both military efforts as well as utilizing the power of

Ages (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1988), 1:6-14. In the Registrum Petri Diaconi, there is a donation of the ecclesiam S. Marie in the province of Larino by a Rappotus of Termoli. Although the date is now corrupt, the document, as it survives in the Registrum, is dated to the regnal years of Basil II and Constantine VIII and was probably granted in 997 (see Bloch, Monte Cassino in the Middle Ages, 2:795). The donation is in the eleventh-century chronicle of the monastery of Montecassino but does not indicate any ties to Byzantium. See Chronica monasterii casinensis (henceforth Chron. Cas.), ed. H. Hoffmann, in MGH Scriptores 34 (Hannover: Hahn, 1978), bk. 2, ch. 55, p. 272. The donation, if unaltered by Peter the Deacon, may reflect Byzantine contestation of the see of Larino, which by this time was a Lombard county. 289 The document is in E. Gattola, Ad Historiam Abbatiae Cassinensis Accessiones (Venice: Coleti, 1734), 1:55: “. . . ecclesiam vocabulo sancti Benedicti, qui edificata esse videtur infra muro et muricino de civitate Larino, quam edificavit Leo presbyter et monachus qui postea est factus pseudo episcopus . . . de eadem civitate Larino.” The term pseudo episcopus is not a common designation and may even carry the meaning of “false bishop” see Du Cange, Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis (Niort: L. Favre, 1886), 6:554. 290 P. F. Kehr, Italia pontificia (Berlin: Weidmann, 1906), 9:174. 291 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 630. 292 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 630. 79

ecclesiastical jurisdiction.293 While military efforts to stall the Byzantine consolidation of power proved fruitless, the use of church officials to secure the loyalty of Apulian citizens seemed hopeful.294 One of the most noteworthy tactics occured in 969 when, at the behest of Emperor Otto I, Pope John XIII elevated the see of Benevento to metropolitan status with ten suffragan sees, some of which were along the Byzantine-Lombard frontier, including Lucera and Larino.295 This move, according to Loud, was “overtly anti-Byzantine” because it used the Latin Church to penetrate Byzantine-controlled territories, securing the loyalty of cities along the Byzantine-

Lombard frontier.296 Through episcopal authority over suffragan sees, the Beneventan archbishop was potentially able to reclaim territories lost to the Lombards, including the contested see of Siponto and the Gargano peninsula.297 Loud notes that the majority of the population in Byzantine Apulia was overwhelmingly Latin and followed the Latin rite.298 Securing the loyalty of these church officials through the establishment of a Beneventan

293 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 629. 294 See Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 23-6, for the Ottonian impact on southern Italy. 295 Loud, The Latin Church, 33. The elevation of Bishop Landolfus II of Benevento to the rank of archbishop was given on May 26, 969 by Pope John XIII. See Ciaralli, de Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 47-8. See also, Spinelli, “Il papato,” 33-42; Kreutz, Before the Normans, 102-4. The list of dioceses in the 969 confirmation included Sant’Agata, Avellino, Quintodecimo, Ariano, Ascoli, Bovino, Volturara, Larino, Telese, and Alife. Regarding why these particular territories were included, see H. W. Klewitz, “Zur Geschichte der Bistumsorganisation Kampaniens und Apuliens im 10. Und 11. Jahrhundert,” in Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 24 (1923-1933): 44-53. Klewitz argued that the papal privilege of 969 reflected the political ambitions of Pandulf I in granting diocesan recognition to the boundaries of the Lombard principality. However, the sees mentioned in the 969 confirmation represent only a third of the Lombard gastaldates. See Spinelli, “Il papato e la riorganizzazione ecclesiastica,” 42. Pratesi contends that the diocesan reorganization in these territories was a part of canonical reforms with the aims of instituting a heightened episcopal presence. See A. Pratesi, “Note di diplomatica beneventana. Parte II: Vescovi suffraganei (secoli X-XIII),” Bullettino dell’Archivio paleografico italiano, 1 (1955): 425-99. 296 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 630; Palmieri, “Duchi, principi e vescovi,” 95; Galdi, “Vescovi, sancti e poteri,” 343. The link between the episcopal and princely authority in the process of reaffirming Beneventan power over northern Apulia is seen clearly in the 969 document where not only Pope John XIII but also Emperor Otto I and Prince Pandulf I conferred metropolitan status on Bishop Landulf I of Benevento. See Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 47-51. For more on the bond between princely and ecclesiastical authority in the Lombard period, see also G. Spinelli, “Il Papato e la riorganizzazione ecclesiastica,” 19-42; N. Cilento, “L’istituzione delle sede metropolita di Capua (966),” in Italia meridionale longobarda (Milan-Naples: R. Ricciardi, 1971), 184-207; C. Azzara, “Il Papato e la Puglia in età longobarda,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi, 212-26; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” ch. 4. Shortly before Benevento was elevated to an archdiocese, the diocese of Capua was also granted metropolitan status. Prince Pandulf I appointed his brother as bishop of the metropolitan of Capua, elevated in 966. See Kehr, Italia pontificia, 8:34. The privilege elevating the see of Capua to metropolitan status has been lost. 297 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 630. 298 Loud, Latin Church, 33. On Byzantine expressions of identity in “post-Byzantine” Italy and on the signifier “Byzantine” for parts of southern Italy, see L. Safran, “Byzantine Art in Post-Byzantine South Italy?: Notes on a Fuzzy Concept,” Common Knowledge 18.3 (2012): 487-504, esp. 497-501. 80

archdiocese was intended to “destabilise” the hold that the Byzantines had upon territories in this region as well as to extend the reach of the Latin/Beneventan church in contested towns.299

In reaction to this, the Byzantines created their own archdioceses, elevating Latin bishops to the status of archbishop. In exchange, the newly-promoted archbishop would swear loyalty to the Byzantine emperor. Over the course of the late tenth and early eleventh century, the Byzantines appointed more throughout their territories, especially those that were contested by the Lombards.300 Through the appointment of their own archbishops, the Byzantines united their territories administratively as well as through ecclesiastical personnel. In fact, even though much of the population in Byzantine Apulia was Latin-speaking, Byzantine officials turned to ecclesiastical organization as well as the liturgical rite to solidify their command over this territory. For instance, in the late 960s the Byzantine emperor Nicephorus Phocas (963-969) even attempted to ban the use of Latin in the liturgy in Apulia and Calabria.301 While the Latin rite persisted in Apulia, much of Calabria was converted to the Greek rite by the 980s.302

After the death of Pandulf I in 981, the Lombard principalities grew more vulnerable to external threat as well as internal conflict. As Lombard power retracted increasingly to the lands surrounding Benevento, the Byzantines expanded their rule into the formerly contested region surrounding and north of the Gargano peninsula. Whereas in the early- and mid-tenth century, the thema of Longobardia may have just reached the city of Siponto, by the late tenth century, it stretched to the river Fortore, encompassing the Gargano peninsula.303 The cities of Siponto, Lucera, and Lesina were among the territories impacted by the northward expansion of

Byzantine power in Apulia. Lucera fell to the Byzantines as early as 983.304 In addition to this, between the 980s and 1005, the bishop of Lucera was elevated to a Byzantine archbishop,

299 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 631. 300 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 632-4. 301 A.W. Epstein, “The Date and Significance of the Cathedral of Canosa in Apulia, South Italy,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 37 (1983): 79. 302 Loud, Latin Church, 34. 303 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 86; von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 46-51; Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 31. 304 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 32; von Falkenhausen, “Le istituzioni bizantine in Puglia nell’alto medioevo,” 193. 81

bringing both the dioceses of Lucera as well as Lesina within the orbit of Byzantine dominance, since Lesina was under the episcopal power of the bishop of Lucera.305

In this context, as the territories surrounding it grew closer to Byzantine control, Larino appears to have grown in importance to Beneventan temporal and ecclesiastical leadership in the late tenth and early eleventh century. At this time, Lombard control over Larino was articulated through the appointment of Lombard temporal authorities as well as the city’s submission to the archbishop of Benevento. Starting in the 970s, Larino was held by a Lombard count by the name of Madelfrid (c. 976), mentioned in Leo Marsicanus’ eleventh-century Chronicon Casniensis.306

Madelfrid’s family belonged to the Beneventan princely court since the early ninth century.307 Further, late tenth- and early eleventh-century documents that mention a count of Larino are dated according to the regnal years of Lombard princes, an indication of the city’s continued ties to the Lombard principality.308 It appears also that during the last decades of the tenth century, Larino grew in wealth and population. It even had to add a second wall to accommodate its growing suburban population.309 According to Petrucci and De Francesco, from the late tenth century through the middle of the eleventh century, Larino was a fortified political entity, operating under a Lombard count and a suffragan of the archbishop of Benevento.310 Records of property ownership in Larino confirm the presence of a land-owning Lombard count there in the middle of the eleventh century. For instance, in 1049, the count Traselgardus, at the end of his life, granted a castle in Larino to the monastery of Santa Maria di Tremiti.311 With a Lombard count and the protection of the Lombard princes, Larino may have been gradually established as

305 Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 2:3-4, no. 1; von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 168; Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 631. 306 Chron. Cas., bk. 2, ch. 6, p. 232. 307 De Francesco, “Origini e sviluppo,” 656. 308 See Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 1:21-2; A. Pratesi, Tra carte e notai: saggi di diplomatica dal 1951 al 1991 (Rome: La Società alla Biblioteca Vallicelliana, 1992), 335, n. 33; Poupardin, Les institutions, 44; Galdi, “Vescovi, santi e potere,” 361-2. Madelfrid is also mentioned in a series of documents from between the late 970s and 1006, recording Montecassino’s lease of land north-east of Larino. Here, the city of Larino is referred to as a comitatu and Madelfrid, its comes. There appears to have been two separate Madelfrids between the late tenth and mid-eleventh century, who were likely related (Bloch, Monte Cassino in the Middle Ages, 1:280). A 1052 document reports that a Madefrit comes filius quondam Rofridi qui fuit comes granted some land in Larino to a man named Falco. See Gattola, Historia abbatiae Cassinensis, 132-4 for additional documents mentioning Madelfrit. 309 Petrucci, Codice diplomatico, 1:25; Gattola, Accessiones, 1:55; Doren, Storia economica dell' Italia nel medioevo, 147. 310 Petrucci, Codice diplomatico, 1:22. 311 Petrucci, Codice diplomatico, 1:131. 82

a quasi-military barrier between the Greek-controlled lands to the south and the land claimed by the Lombards.312

In addition to a more evident secular administration in Larino during the late tenth and early eleventh century, the presence of a bishop of Larino is also clear during this time. In fact, it was only shortly after the elevation of the archdiocese of Benevento in 969 that records consistently indicate that there was a bishop in Larino. With the exceptions of the early bishops up to the sixth century and this pseudo-episcopus mentioned previously in the 949 document, there are no records of a bishop in Larino until the late 970s, at which point a certain Azo appears in confirmations of land to Montecassino.313

Larino also appears with some frequency in documents from the Beneventan archdiocese from the late tenth century. For example, there is a 983 confirmation over Larino made by Pope John XIV to Archbishop Aio of Benevento as well as a 998 confirmation made by Pope Gregory V and Emperor Otto III to Archbishop Alfanus I of Benevento.314 In these documents, the popes stated that the archbishops of Benevento presided not only over the Church of Larino but also the shrine of St Michael on Monte Gargano. In addition to these, a tenth-century forged privilege states that (580-672) granted St Barbatus and the entire church of Benevento, the dioceses of Bovino, Ascoli, Larino, and the shrine of St Michael the Archangel on Gargano: “I, Vitalianus, bishop and servant of the servants of God, to the most revered and beloved Barbatus, the bishop of the Church of Benevento, and through him [all those] in the same venerable episcopacy. In perpetuity . . . I concede to you, most beloved, and to your church of Benevento, [the dioceses of] Bovino, Ascoli, Larino, and the Church of Saint Michael the Archangel in

Gargano, and likewise the Church of Siponto. . .” 315

The most recent editors of Pope Vitalian’s false privilege date the document to the late tenth century based on its reliance upon models found in papal documents from the ninth and tenth

312 De Francesco, “Origini e sviluppo,” 656. 313 For a list of bishops, see Ughelli, Italia sacra, 9:304; A. Magliano, Larino: considerazioni storiche sulla città di Larino (: Giovanni e Nicola Colitti, 1985), 1:175-8. 314 Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 73, 77. 315 Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 5-6: “Vitalianus episcopus servus servorum Dei, reverendissimo et karissimo Barbato, carissime Beneventane Ecclesie episcopus, et per eum in eodem venerabili episcopio. In perpetuum . . . concedentes tibi tueque prefate karissime Beneventanensi Ecclesie, id est Bibinem, Asculum, Larinum et ecclesiam Sancti Michaelis archangeli in Gargano, pariterque Sipontinam . . .” 83

centuries.316 The power of the Vitalian forgery lay in large part in its attention to the figure of St Barbatus, whose legend was passed down in the Vita Barbati. St Barbatus was allegedly a seventh-century holy man who would become the bishop of Benevento. To celebrate his legend, the Vita Barbati was composed during the ninth or tenth centuries.317 It tells the story of the Lombard triumph over the Greek Emperor Constans II (641-668) in 663 after the Lombard duke,

Romuald I, converted to Christianity as a result of the prayers of St Barbatus.318 In the Vita, after the Lombard victory, Duke Romulad I (662-667) granted Barbatus episcopal control over the diocese of Siponto and the shrine on Monte Gargano. In the ninth and tenth centuries, the Vita helped to establish historic precedence and power for the Beneventan bishops, especially over the cult of St Michael the Archangel on Monte Gargano precisely as this territory was under threat of the Byzantine powers.319 The Vita Barbati and the figure of St Barbatus were influential in the formation of legendary memory of the Beneventan church and principality in the centuries after its composition. Indeed, subsequent hagiographies composed in Lombard zones during the tenth and eleventh cenutires, such as the Translatio Heliani, which records the transfer of the relics of St Helianus from to Benevento, and, as we will see, the Vita S. Pardi, were directly influenced by the Vita Barbati.320 St Barbatus himself continued to be a leading patron for the city and church of Benevento through the twelfth century.

316 Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 5. On patterns within papal confirmations from the ninth and tenth centuries see Paulius Rabikauskas, Diplomatica pontificia (praelectionum lineamenta) (Rome: Università Gregoriana Editrice, 1980); In agreement with a tenth century date, Paoli connects the false privilege of Vitalian to the composition of the Vita Barbati. See Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento,” 306-9. Everett suggested an earlier date for the false privilege, placing it in the ninth century, since its language matches an episcopal charter of 875. See Everett, Patron Saints of Early Medieval Italy, AD c. 350-800 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute for Medieval Studies, 2016), 44. 317 Arguing that the Vita Barbati was composed in the ninth century, see Vuolo, “Ancora a proposito della ‘Vita Barbati episcopi Beneventani’ (BHL 973),” Hagiographica 13 (2006): 11-31, Everett, Patron Saints, 40-1, and Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 218-20. Martin suggested that it was composed over the course of the ninth and tenth centuries, Martin, “A propos de la Vita de Barbatus,” 137-64; Paoli argued for the tenth century based on the similarities between the Vita and the Vitilian forgery in “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati,” 304-8. 318 The Vita Barbati episcopi Beneventani (BHL 973) is in Waitz, ed., MGH SRLI, 555-563. 319 Everett, Patron Saints, 40-1. On the Sanctuary of St Michael and the Byzantines, see Otranto, “Per una metodologia della ricerca storico-agiografica: il santuario micaelico del Gargano tra Bizantini e Longobardi,” Vetera Christianorum 25 (1988): 381-405, at 383-7. The cult of St Michael was rooted in the East and had an enduring importance in the Byzantine tradition since Late Antiquity. Thus, Byzantine interest in the sanctuary on Monte Gargano was not limited to its political importance. For more on Byzantine veneration of St Michael, see V. Saxer, “Jalons pour servir à l’histoire du culte de l’Archange Saint Michel en Orient jusqu’a l’iconoclasme,” Noscere Sancta, Miscellanea in memoria di Agostino Amore (Rome: Pontificium Athenaeum Antonianum, 1985), 1:357-426. 320 Everett, Patron Saints, 40-2. For more on Helianus see also Anderson, Historical Memory,” 202, n. 664. 84

By including reference to St Barbatus’ authority, the Vitalian forgery similarly granted historic precedent for Beneventan control over key territories in northern Apulia, especially Monte Gargano and Siponto but also the territories that lay around it, like Larino. Indeed, the Vitalian forgery highlights an important aspect common to nearly every document where Larino is mentioned during the late tenth- and early eleventh-century: each confirmation represents the diocese of Benevento’s historic claims over a similar set of territories in northern Apulia, surrounding and including the see of Siponto and the shrine of St Michael on Monte Gargano.321

As mentioned, Monte Gargano was among the most contested sites in the Byzantine land because of its great importance to the Lombard principality and archbishop.322 Since the Gargano peninsula was in the hands of the Byzantine authorities by the late tenth century, it was all the more important for the Beneventan archbishop to assert his presence in territories along the Byzantine-Lombard border, especially those that surrounded the see of Siponto and Monte

Gargano, giving them access from the north and west.323 With the loss of Lucera and Lesina in the late tenth century, Larino’s value as a Lombard territory likely increased since it continued to lie precisely along this frontier.

Ultimately, the attention to the see of Larino, evidenced both by a more pronounced political and ecclesiastical administration there between the late tenth and early eleventh century, was part of the process of asserting the presence and authority of the Beneventan church and Lombard power

321 For instance, the 983 confirmation from Pope John XIV to Archbishop Aio of Benevento over churches in northern Apulia is particularly vivid in the confirmation of Benevento’s rights over these sees, which include “in Sancta Agathe, Abellino, Quintodecimo, Ariano, Asculo, Bibine, Lucera, Vulteraria, Larino, Thelesia, Alifis, Termola, Trevento, Sessula; confirmantesque tibi tuisque successoribus ecclesiam sancti Michaelis Archangeli in monte Gargano, cum ipso Sipontina Ecclesia et cum omnibus earum pertinentiis et omnia predia cum ecclesiis, familiis utriusque sexus et massis et cuncta que videntur esse pertinentia ipsarum ecclesiarum.” Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 73. 322 von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 56. It should be noted that there is no evidence that the Byzantines ever did block access to the shrine on Monte Gargano. C. G. Mor argued that by 999 the shrine on Monte Gargano was no longer in Byzantine control because Emperor Otto III safely took a pilgrimage there in that year. See Mor, “La difesa militare della capitanata ed i confini della regione al principio del secolo XI,” Papers of the British School at Rome 24 (1956): 32. Von Falkenhausen has pointed out the problems with this argument. For instance, the main routes to Monte Gargano from Rome, where Otto III stayed in March of 999 before proceeding to Apulia, were still in Byzantine hands, including, at this point, Lucera. Since Otto III safely passed through these routes to the shrine, there is no reason to believe that the Byzantines would have blocked him from pilgrimage to Monte Gargano if they controlled it. Also, “e perché avrebbero dovuto fermare o inutilmente irritare l’imperatore sassone, che giungeva con un piccolo seguito in veste di pellegrino e non di aggressore?” von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 56. 323 Documents from the Beneventan cathedral continue to assert privilege over the sees in northern Apulia, including Larino through the twelfth century. See, for instance, Ciarelli, de Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 216-19. 85

in this region. The fortification of Larino as both an ecclesiastical and military stronghold on Lombard/Beneventan authority continued well into the eleventh century. Documents from the 1030s and attest to the presence of at least three (unspecified) churches, fortified walls, and castles in the county of Larino, which were owned by Lombard counts.324

By the middle to late eleventh century, the situation in northern Apulia had somewhat changed. While the contest between the Lombards and the Byzantines persisted in Apulia through the 1070s, Beneventan princely authority had contracted by the late tenth century due to internal strife and division after the death of Pandulf I in 981 and was thus increasingly limited to the area surrounding Benevento.325 Nevertheless, the Beneventan church continued to have the support of the papacy through the eleventh century and it even appears to have re-claimed jurisdiction through papal confirmations over other key territories, as it did in Dragonara and

Troia in 1029-1030.326 Lucera and Lesina, however, remained loyal to the Byzantines during the first half of the eleventh century.327 A charter dated to 1032 indicates that a Bishop John of Lucera, apparently still loyal to the Byzantine Church, reconfirmed that Lesina was subject to his see.328

The growing presence of the Normans in the course of the eleventh century complicated matters for Beneventan authorities and added to the already competitive landscape in Apulia. While they had arrived first as pilgrims or mercenaries (fighting on behalf of the Lombards against the Byzantines), the Normans took over Bari from the Byzantines in 1071, marking the end of

Byzantine rule in Apulia.329 The Normans also focused their attention on other Byzantine-held territories in Apulia, like Lucera, Lesina, and Larino as they continued to consolidate their power in the south. Confirmations made in 1047 to Montecassino of land surrounding the river Lauro in Lesina appear not from the archbishop of Benevento but from the Norman Count of Lesina,

324 Petrucci, Codice diplomatico, 1:68-9, 122-4. 325 Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 644; Kreutz, Before the Normans, 120-2. 326 Kehr, Italia Pontificia, 9:203; Martin, La Pouille, 572; Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery,” 187; Loud, Latin Church, 36-8. 327 Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 91; von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 149. 328 Petrucci, Codice diplomatico, no. 14, pp. 45-8; also cited in Corsi, “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini,” 90-1: “Ego Iohannes gratia Dei episcopus sancte sedis Lucerie, declaro enim intus civitate Lisine, qui est pertinentie nostre sedie episcopis.” 329 Head, “Continuity and Discovery,” 184; Martin, La Pouille, 563-627. 86

Gualtierus.330 In the 1080s, the Norman count, Henry of Monte Sant’Angelo, granted a church in

Lucera to Montecassino.331 Finally, in 1071, the bishop of Larino attended the dedication of the new abbey church of Montecassino. This bishop, William of Larino, numbered among the ten bishops present at this gathering who had a Norman or French name, suggesting that he had been appointed by a Norman lord and not by the Beneventan archbishop.332 While the city of Benevento was never conquered by the Normans, its territories further afield were undoubtedly impacted as they fell within the orbit of the new rulers.

Thus, the Lombard influence over land and authority in the region of northern Apulia continued to be tenuous through the eleventh century. As we will see, Beneventan institutions nevertheless preserved the memory of a powerful historical presence there through texts like the Vita Barbati and the Vita S. Pardi. These sources maintained the memory of privileges once held by the Beneventan church and Lombard principality over an expansive geography and supported divine approval of Beneventan ecclesiastical jurisdiction, even if it was only aspirational at this point.

Manuscript History and Dating of the Vita S. Pardi

The Vita S. Pardi survives in two recensions. The earliest and only complete extant recension is found in a homiliary dated to the tenth and eleventh centuries, BC 6.333 In this homiliary, the folios containing the Vita, fols. 269v-273v, date to the second half of the eleventh century. Up until now, the only transcription of the BC 6 Vita was in the hand of Stefano Borgia (d. 1804). It survives in Vatican City, BAV, Borg. lat 296, fols. 307r-318v, dated to the eighteenth century.334 Since it contains the only complete and the earliest extant version, the recension of the Vita S.

Pardi held in BC 6 will be the focus of this chapter.335 A more detailed analysis of the manuscript BC 6 and its contents follows at the end of this chapter.

330 Martin, La Pouille, 299. 331 Loud, Latin Church, 92. 332 Loud, Latin Church, 120. 333 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:150-160. 334 This transcription and the entire manuscript is currently available through the digital archives of the : https://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Borg.lat.296 335 I am grateful for the archivists and staff at the Biblioteca Capitolare in Benevento, especially Professore Iadanza and Dott.ssa Peluso, for their help in preparing reproductions of BC 6 for this study. 87

This later recension of the Vita is, unfortunately, fragmentary; it was originally held in a lectionary from Bovino, but survives now as a fragment in Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale XV.

AA. 14, fols. 22v-24v.336 While most of the Bovino legendary has been lost, the Vita S. Pardi is among the few texts that escaped complete destruction, even though it is only fragmentary.337 Poncelet dated the Bovino manuscript to the thirteenth century based on the paleography and codicological attributes of its surviving fragments, including the remnants of the Vita S. Pardi, as well as the presence of late twelfth-century material on St of Canterbury.338

There are several modern editions of the Vita S. Pardi, ranging from those dating to the seventeenth century until the eighteenth-century Bollandist edition in Acta Sanctorum.339 Each of these editions is based on the later and fragmentary version from the Bovino manuscript. While it is very similar in content to the version held in BC 6, the thirteenth-century recension is missing its final folio, the portion of the Vita that would have consisted of Radoinus’ homiletic conclusion. In addition to this, there are several variations in phrases and wording between the two recensions, which are provided in the edition in the appendix to this dissertation. Given the similarities between the two recensions, it is possible that the Vita from the thirteenth-century codex Boviensis was based on the late-eleventh-century version held in BC 6 or possibly an even earlier version, which no longer survives. A probable list of the contents of the codex Boviensis, compiled by Dolbeau, suggests that the first option is a good one: the thirteenth-century Bovino codex was based on manuscripts held in Benevento and therefore supports the theory that the later recension of the Vita S. Pardi was probably based on the one held in BC 6.340 This likelihood also amplifies the important roles that BC 6 and other Beneventan liturgical

336 Dolbeau, “Le légendier,” 128. 337 Dolbeau, “Le légendier,” 126-51. 338 Poncelet, Catalogus codicum hagiographicorum latinorum bibliothecae Vaticanae, 211-20. 339 Besides the edition of the Vita S. Pardi by G. Henschen in AASS, which is collated with the partial transcription of BHL 6464 found in Vat. lat. 5834, there are the following editions: G. B. Polidori, ed., in Vita et antiqua monumenta S. Pardi ep. et conf. (Rome, 1741); G. A. Tria, ed., in Memorie storiche, 634-8; Waitz, ed., in MGH SRLI, 589-90. These three editions include a similar and abrupt ending: “animabat trepidos,” suggesting that they were based on the Bovino legendary. In his edition, Polidori explicitly mentioned the codex Boviensis as the source of Tria’s edition. See further, Dolbeau, “La légendier,” 128. 340 See, Dolbeau, “Le légendier.” Dolbeau reconstructed the contents of the lectionary based in part on the inventory made in 1534 by the canon of Ravenna, P. Ferretti. This inventory now survives in Vatican City, BAV, Vat. lat. 5833 and 5834, including transcriptions of several hagiographic fragments. Based on evidence from the 1534 inventory, the codex Boviensis is thought to have contained forty-five lectiones for saints from southern Italy. The contents of the list suggest, according to Dolbeau, that the codex was dependent on Beneventan manuscripts (p.134). See also, A. Mariella, “Codici e incunaboli di autori cristiani antichi nelle biblioteche daune,” Vetera Christiana 8 (1971): 357-66. 88

manuscripts played in the process through which hagiographies were codified, copied, and transmitted across communities of southern Italy.

The apparent relationship between BC 6 and the codex Boviensis helps us to trace how the themes in the Vita S. Pardi remained interesting and relevant in later contexts. For instance, in the eleventh-century BC 6, the Vita sent a strong message of the superiority of the Latin Church over Byzantine territories, in the midst of the conflicts between Lombard and Byzantine hegemonies. Later on, in the thirteenth-century city of Bovino, which is quite close to Lucera, the Vita S. Pardi may have signalled the transformations that Lucera underwent during that period. Notably, in the first half of the thirteenth century, Lucera was populated by a Muslim colony.341 In this context, with its focus on the city of Lucera, the Vita may have carried messages that were intended to symbolise Muslim-Christian relations in the Capitanata under Frederick II. Such contexts have yet to be explored and may bring to light the evolving significance of the Vita across several generations. Assuming that the thirteenth century scribe was faithful to Radoinus’ homiletic conclusion as it appears in BC 6, the new edition of the Vita will give insight into the possible contexts for the Vita in the thirteenth century.

A final note on the recensions of the Vita S. Pardi: it bears mention that at some point an anonymous author composed a shorter version of the Vita (=BHL 6464).342 This version survives in the sixteenth-century codex Vat. lat. 5834, fols. 172r-172v. It is missing Radoinus’ lengthy prologue and is considerably shorter but, other than that, is very similar to the version by Radoinus. That is, there are no major differences in content or structure between the two sources. G. A. Tria, who edited the “condensed” Vita, suggested that it was composed in Larino shortly before Radoinus’ version and dated the text, according to its style, to the tenth or eleventh centuries.343 Galdi disagrees with the sequence proposed by Tria, arguing instead that Radoinus was the first the author of the Vita. Ultimately, it cannot be proven which version came first since the extant manuscript of BHL 6464 has a late date of the sixteenth century.344 However, perhaps in support of Tria’s assessment, Radoinus wrote of the need to “relegere” (“to reread”)

341 On the Muslim colony at Lucera, see Taylor, Muslims in Medieval Italy: the Colony at Lucera. 342 The “Vita brevior” (BHL 6464) is edited in Tria, Memorie storiche, 632-3. Tria mentioned that this shortened Vita was included in a 1490 inventory of the Biblioteca del Marchese del Vasto. 343 Tria, Memorie storiche, 632. 344 Galdi, “Vescovi, santi e poteri,” 359. 89

the history of St Pardus.345 Was he referring here to a preexisting tradition or to its future use? It is impossible to say for sure but the potential that there was an earlier version of the Vita S. Pardi, either oral or written, cannot be discounted entirely.

Since its earliest extant recension dates to the second half of the eleventh century, the date of composition of Radoinus’ Vita S. Pardi is difficult to establish. However, it might be possible to narrow the date range down to between the late tenth century and the first half of the eleventh century. Its earliest manuscript witness (BC 6) provides a terminus ante quem of the late eleventh century. Radoinus’ mention of the invasions of the Huns places the composition of the text sometime after 937, the year in which Leo Marsicanus reported that the Huns arrived in southern

Italy.346 Therefore the broadest possible date range is between the late 930s and the late eleventh century.

To narrow this down, we may look to the content of the Vita. In the Vita, there is a clear focus on the relationship between Lucera, Lesina, and Larino and the saintly protection (or lack thereof) granted to these territories by St Pardus. Lucera and Lesina were both Byzantine-held territories in the late tenth and early eleventh century while Larino remained under Lombard control until the 1070s. According to Radoinus, St Pardus neglected to protect the territories of Lesina and Lucera, which pass into destruction at the hands of enemies. On the other hand, Pardus intervenes for the see of Larino, choosing to protect its people from the invasions of the Huns in the 930s. In addition to this, the Vita presents St Pardus as loyal to the pope in Rome and the Latin Church instead of returning to his native city in Greece. Given the Vita’s general anti- Byzantine slant as well as its focus on the destruction of Lucera, Radoinus may have written in response to the Byzantine conquest of the city, which occurred between the 980s and the early eleventh century. Since Larino was apparently under Norman control by the 1070s, Radoinus may have composed the text prior to the Norman takeover. Therefore, although it cannot be a certainty, a more precise date range for the composition of the Vita may be between the final years of the tenth century and the first half of the eleventh.

345 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 269r. 346 According to the Chronicon Casiensis, this incursion took place in April, 937. See Chron. Cas., bk.1, ch. 55, p. 141: “Quarto abbatis (Adelpertus 934-) huius anno, indictione decima, venientes innumerabiles, Ungari super Capuam, omnia in circitu, ipsius depraedati sunt.” See G. Fasoli, Le incursioni ungare in Europa nel secolo x (Florence: G. C. Sansoni, 1945). 90

The Content of the Vita S. Pardi

Throughout the Vita S. Pardi several themes can be detected. These themes converge to underscore a sense of identity and historic memory that bound Larino to the Latin Church. First, there is a general focus on the lay community of Larino’s influence over the formation of Pardus’ cult. Where we might expect to find the authority of a bishop or secular leader during the rituals surrounding Pardus’ relics, the laity takes over (purposefully downplaying the historical leadership of secular lords). Second, Radoinus emphasized a connection with Rome and the legendary past of the Beneventan diocese. Third, there is a clear anti-Byzantine sentiment throughout the Vita, especially regarding the destruction of the city of Lucera.

The Vita begins with a lengthy sermon in which Radoinus explained his reasons for composing the text. This prologue, which has been given only cursory treatment so far by scholars, contains several important clues for understanding how the Vita was used in Larino. Radoinus began his work by saying “just as the Gentile poets, given to idle pursuits, sought to render public throughout the entire world the deeds of the infidels by the artifice of their songs, thus praiseworthy men should all the more hastily command to memory the most celebrated triumph of Blessed Pardus.”347 Here, Radoinus utilized a formulation we will see again in the next chapter: “ad memoriam ducere,” “to lead to memory.” The story of Pardus’ life and the discovery of his relics is worthy of remembering and the act of writing and hearing this narrative was also a form of remembering it and committing it to memory. In this way, the legend of St Pardus is a history that must be summoned to memory (ducere), and, as the author, Radoinus intended to keep it from slipping into oblivion. Here, the Vita displays the porous boundaries between writing history and writing hagiography, which we will continue to encounter in this dissertation.

Radoinus continued his prologue by stating the importance that the memory of Blessed Pardus be reread, relegi, and that, when the story of the most saintly Pardus was reread, “the hearts of those listening (corda audientium) will turn away from worldly distractions.” The term “relegere,” to

347 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 269rb-va: “Cum gentiles poetae inani studio dediti, priscorum infidelium facta virorum, figmentis suorum carminum toto orbe diffamare studuerunt: Cum accuratius foret illustribus viris, celeberimum agonem istius beatissimi pontificis, ad memoriam ducere, et mentes fidelium exemplo illius certaminis pia devotione solidare.” All references are to the edition in appendix 2. 91

re-read or read again, is striking here. As mentioned, relegere implies that the legend of saint Pardus was in some way familiar to his audience, perhaps in reference to a preexisting hagiography. Radoinus used the phrase “to re-read” (relegi), which could refer to the act of reading (again) or, since the verb is in the passive, may reference to the use of the Vita in a more public setting like the liturgy. Here, perhaps Radoinus did not intend as much for his Vita to be read but rather to be heard. This is clear also from the use of corda audientium but also from the following statement: “it pleases me to write these things for all the holy brothers, either listening to or seeing the victory of this most renowned warrior. . .”348 Radoinus’ words imply that the reading of the Vita not only formed a textual community, to borrow a phrase from Brian Stock, in which the narration of a text informed the audience’s participation in a ritual and created an interdependence between the written source and its oral reception.349 Radoinus’ words remind us that the narrative was also a catalyst for the imaginations and memories of those who heard it read aloud. For Radoinus, the faithful who heard the text were not only hearing but also seeing (videntibus). When the audience “saw” the history of St Pardus, they were actively engaged with the story, connected to the past in a powerful way so as witness to the deeds of St Pardus and his miraculous discovery.

It is not certain if Radoinus wrote the Vita within a liturgical codex. That said, most vitae were composed for use in the liturgy and the Vita S. Pardi, as we will see, eventually was compiled within a liturgical homiliary by the late eleventh century in Benevento. Radoinus’ prologue certainly implies that the source was used in some sort of liturgical or communal setting, since he addressed the presence of “holy brothers” gathering to hear the story of St Pardus. Further, Radoinus himself was probably a deacon in the Church of Larino, presumably where the Vita would have been put to use. If the Vita S. Pardi was indeed originally intended for use in a liturgical ritual, such as the mass or office, Radoinus’ phrase audientibus et videntibus shows how inventio narratives could give rise to different modes of interpretation in this setting. Hearing of the discovery of St Pardus’ relics, the audience was a passive recipient of the historical narrative. Seeing, however, gave the audience the ability to creatively participate by

348 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 269v: “Ad haec mihi placuit scribere omnibus spiritualibus fratribus; audientibus vel videntibus palmam istius faustissimi agoniste . . .” 349 Stock, The Implications of Literacy, 90-2. 92

remembering, recalling, and imagining the past of their own diocese. This past, of course, took shape and was rooted in the discovery of their patron’s relics.350

In a broader sense, the function of the text to inform the imaginations and memory of a local audience shows how inventiones joined communities on multiple levels. On the one hand, the performance of the text in a liturgical setting was a way to unite those in a common system of religious practice and tradition, through the cyclical and formulaic nature of the liturgical year. At the same time, the inventio story also united communities on a more local level, because it was a legend told of a particular past. It is important to reiterate here that when Pardus’ relics were discovered by the people of Larino, his remains represented more than a blessed patron. With the discovery of Pardus’ remains, a new history was yoked to the community of Larino.

In the context of the political frontier between Byzantine and Lombard powers, the writing of inventiones bound within liturgical codices was a tool for political and social cohesion. We have seen already how the members of the Church, especially the Latin and Greek archbishops, were used to secure loyalties throughout northern Apulia. The Vita S. Pardi, composed by a deacon of a Latin diocese, used his narrative as a way to differentiate the identity of the see of Larino from those dioceses that had converted to the Greek rite, such as churches in Calabria, or perhaps those in closer proximity, which held an archbishop loyal to the Byzantine emperor, like Lucera and Lesina.351

Moving to the body of the Vita, Radoinus wrote that Pardus was the bishop of a city in the

Peloponnesus, as mentioned.352 However, the people who lived in his diocese ignored his teachings and expelled him as well as a few clergy members from the city. Pardus sought refuge in Rome, where he was met with honor by Pope Cornelius (251-253). While in Rome, Pardus rested, gathered disciples, and sought counsel with the pope. Eventually, his former Greek citizens came to Rome, hoping to reconcile with the bishop they had previously ousted. “With

350 For the perspectives of modern historians on the interrelationship between performativity and cultural memory see the collection of essays: C. Council and R. Mock, eds., Performance, Embodiment, and Cultural Memory (Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009). Connerton’s foundational study maintained the link between performativity (especially ritual performance) and the formation of social memory. See Connerton, How societies Remember. 351 On the force of liturgies as a differentiating factor along the Byzantine-Lombard frontiers of northern Calabria, see E. Tounta, “Saints, Rulers and Communities in Southern Italy: The Vitae of the Italo-Greek Saints (tenth to eleventh centuries) and their Audiences,” Journal of Medieval History 42.4 (2016): 444. 352 Otranto, Italia meridionale, 167. 93

their beastly ferocity abandoned,” they begged Pardus to return to his former see. However, Pardus declined to return and asked the pope to appoint someone else in his place. Instead of returning to Greece, Pardus asked Cornelius for permission to settle in Apulia. Pardus left Rome with his followers and settled in the city of Lucera where he acted as bishop for the remainder of his lifetime.

After this, Radoinus diverted the narrative to the events that occured in Apulia after Pardus’ death. Moving from the third century to the seventh century, Radoinus wrote that the Byzantine Emperor, Constans II, invaded southern Italy and destroyed the entire region of Apulia. Constans II arrived first in Taranto before making his way to Lucera. Once in Lucera, Constans ordered the city to be demolished and all its citizens to be sent to captivity. After a swift victory, Constans set out for Benevento, where prince Romuald I, St Barbatus, and some of the “strongest Lombard men” waited. Strengthened by God, the Lombards and St Barbatus defeated Constans and his army, who retreated to Naples and finally returned home.353 Meanwhile, the bishop of Lucera, who had fled the city before it was destroyed, sought refuge in the small town of Lesina and took up residence there.

Jumping ahead chronologically once again, Radoinus wrote that in the ninth century, the Saracens brought a second sequence of incursions to Apulia. This time, the Saracen armies came to Larino, killed many of its inhabitants while others fled, and left the city entirely abandoned. The abandonment of Larino sets the stage for the ultimate discovery of Pardus’ relics. First, however, hearing that Larino was depopulated, the citizens of Lesina searched through the city’s shrines and stole the bodies of two saints who had been buried there, Sts Primianus and

Firmanus.354 Soon, the remaining citizens of Larino, who had fled the city during the Saracen

353 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 270ra-270rb. 354 There is no early hagiographic tradition for Primianus or Firmianus. However, a much later tradition records that they were martyred during the time of Diocletian (284-305) and Maximianus (286-305) along with another saint, Castus (BHL 6921d). Tria noted the presence of an “ancient” epitaph discovered in the church of Larino which read “IN PACE. CHRISTI: LOCUS. PRIMIANI. FIRMIANI. ET. CASTI. MM. QUI. PASSI. SUNT. SUB. DIOCLETIANO.” See Tria, Memorie storiche, 624-5. The relics of Sts. Primianus, Firmianus, Bishop Sabinus of Lesina, and Bishop Euonomius of Lesina were discovered in Lesina in 1598 by the priest Aurelius Marra and translated to Naples. In his narratio, Marra noted that by 1597 Lesina was in a ruinous state (“Lesina Capitanatæ prouinciæ in Apulia urbs peruetusta, sed nunc magnam partem prostrata ac diruta . . .”). Interestingly, when he uncovered the tomb of Sts. Primianus and Firmianus, Marra reported the presence of an inscription in “Longobarici caracteres”: “Omnibus diligenter lustratis, animaduerti sub ipsa ecclesia cryptam esse, ad quam binæ ianuæ binique gradus ducerent. Dein

94

attacks, returned home to learn that their saintly patrons were missing. Armed, they came to Lesina to retrieve their relics. The people of Larino arrived at the shrine of St Pardus and, digging, they searched for Primianus and Firmanus. Instead, however, they discovered the tomb of St Pardus. When they discovered Pardus’ relics, they found that his body was intact, except for one thumb (pollex). The citizens of Larino took up the relics and, in ritual fashion, wrapped the bishop’s body in linen and sang hymns. The people of Larino departed Lesina, and headed back to their own city. However, before they could enter the gates of Larino, they were stopped, unable to move. Only after the people bowed and promised obedience to Pardus, were they allowed to enter Larino. Here, Radoiunus used a trope commonly found in inventiones. Namely, following the inventio, in the process of relocating the relics, it is not uncommon to read that the saint refused entry into a city. We saw this in the Translatio S. Sosii when a storm prevented entry into Naples; we will see this trope again in the Translatio S. Mercurii, discussed in the next chapter. The scene also plays out similarly in the Translatio S. Januarii.355 The delay to enter the city walls can be interpreted as a display of divine force and authentication made by the saint, much in the same way that a healing miracle demonstrated the saint’s divinity.356 In inventiones, this situation is typically resolved once a high-ranking official, be it a bishop or duke or prince, bowed to the saint in deference or offered the celebration of new feast days in honor of the city’s new patron. The bishop or secular leader was fundamental to the outcome of the narrative because, as the highest ecclesiastical or secular authority in the city, the bishop’s or duke’s humble submission in turn implied the deference of the entire community to the saint.357 In the Vita S. Pardi, however, Radoinus focused on the actions of the laity, stressing their role in the inventio and its ensuing translatio. Through this subtle change in a common and anticipated

cum didicissem S. Primiano sacram eam ædem fuisse, accurate inspexi humi stratum marmoreum epistylium, decem palmos longum, altum duos & semis, quod maioris ianuæ superliminare fuisse aiebant. In eo vix dimidiatim prominentibus anaglyphis variæ sculptæ effigies videbantur: media Christi Saluatoris erat; ad dexteram partem S. Primiani, S. Firmiani, S. Sabini Episcopi, S. Eunonij Episcopi; ad læuam S. Paschasij Abbatis, S. Vrsulæ, S. Alexandri, S. Tellurij: quorum nomina ad singularum imaginum latera, contractis in compendium litteris, efformata, sedula adhibita opera perlecta tandem sunt. At circum epistylium antiquissimi Longobardici caracteres difficulter legi potuerunt, quod marmor ita humi abiectum, fœde labefactatum, ipsoque situ corrosum erat.” For the inventio account see Aurelius Marra, Historia inventionis ss. Sabini et Eunomii epp., Italice scripta ab Aurelio Marra, in AASS February 3, 337-339. See also Pollidori, Vita et antiqua monumenta S. Pardi ep. et conf., 57. 355 See Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 212-3. 356 Cronnier, Les inventiones, 243-4. 357 On the function of the bishop in Byzantine inventiones, see Cronnier, Les inventiones, 241-5; E. Oukhanova, “The Invention of Holy Relics in the Byzantine Church (according to the sermon of Constantine the philosopher on the invention of the relics of St Clement of Rome),” in Eastern Christian Relics, ed. A. M. Lidov (Moscow: Progress- Tradicija, 2003), p. 149-50 (=English translation). 95

scene, Radoinus signalled to his audience the messages he wished to convey.358 The sequence of events in the discovery and translation unfurled through a crowd of lay people, worthy of the saint’s protection. Here, as opposed to the social hierarchy established in sources where the bishop and duke are pivotal to a ritual discovery or translation, Radoinus stressed instead the harmony between an entire community and an ancient bishop. Thus, after the submission of the lay community to St Pardus, the people of Larino joyfully enshrined Pardus’ relics within the Church of Santa Maria in Larino, until a more suitable church could be constructed in his honor.359

In the final part of the Vita, Radoinus recounted a third incursion in Apulia, this time by the Huns

(c. 937).360 As they made their way through the region, the Ungari arrived in Larino and once again the city was attacked and some of the citizens were taken captive. Meanwhile, the few citizens of Larino, who escaped captivity, prayed to the tomb of St Pardus to spare their city from destruction and to free the citizens from captivity. In response to their prayers, “such a confusion was brought upon [the Huns] that, terrified, they released all the captives, animals, and stolen goods, and they fled as if they had sensed a great band of soldiers.” The captive citizens returned to Larino and gave thanks to St Pardus.

Radoinus concluded the Vita by exalting St Pardus and praying that the blessed praesul continue to protect his “humble flock” from evil. Here, Radoinus summarized the virtues of St Pardus and entreated the saint to continue his protection over the people of Larino. In his final words, Radoinus assumed the voice of the community of Larino, praying that Pardus remain bonded to them through his miraculous protection. Using a similar address as in his prologue (euge):361 “We beseech your benevolence, holy confessor and bishop Pardus, that you not abandon your humble and wretched flock. Although you are now joined in spirit to him, whom you have

358 On the process of entering the city walls, see the comments made in Cronnier, Les inventiones, 211-3. 359 A church of S. Maria in Larino is mentioned in a praeceptum confirmationis of Charlemagne to the abbey of Montecassino. Although the praceceptum is dated to 798, it is now believed to be a later forgery. The document is in Caroli Magni imperatoris opera omnia, ed. L. Tosti, in PL 97, cols. 1041-1044. See also, E. Caspar, “Echte und gefälschte Karolingerurkunden für Montecassino,”Neues Archiv 33 (1908): 55-73 and Martin, E. Cuozzo, S. Gasparri, and M. Villani, eds., Regesti dei documenti dell’Italia meridionale 570-899 (Rome: École Française de Rome, 2002), no. 514. 360 Chron. Cas., bk.1, ch. 55, p. 141; Fasoli, Le incursioni ungare in Europa nel secolo x. 361 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 270ra, line 5: “Euge serve bone. . .” 96

faithfully served, may you entreat his omnipotence that he free us from the scourges of evil. .

.”362

(Missing) Secular Authority in the Vita S. Pardi

As mentioned briefly above, according to the Vita S. Pardi, it was the people of Larino who did the work of uncovering, translating, and properly venerating Pardus’ relics (as well as requiring that his Vita be written down.) Rather than a lay lord or bishop interring the saintly remains, Radoinus’ silence on the presence of lay or ecclesiastical administration may have purposefully been meant to downplay the role of Larino’s upper ranking members or even to imply that there were none present at the time of the discovery, suggesting a lack of stability in the city. Instead, the bond established and articulated in the Vita is between Pardus and the faithful lay people of Larino.

The absence of a secular lord is a somewhat curious characteristic of the Vita. In the majority of inventiones and translationes composed in the Lombard-controlled zones, secular powers play a role in the rituals surrounding relics. For instance, we examined in the previous chapter how the presence of lay authorities in the inventio of St Sosius articulated relationships and social hierarchies between lay and ecclesiastical communities alike. In addition to these, other examples of well-studied Lombard-era hagiography, like the Translatio S. Januarii, the Translatio duodecim fratrum, and the Translatio S. Bartholomae, utilize the figure of a lay lord to support their claims.363 In the following chapters, we will see that the image of the Lombard Prince Arichis II continued to play an important role in the memory of ecclesiastical communities, like Santa Sophia in Benevento and San Vincenzo al Volturno, which were founded in the Lombard era and remained attached to their pasts in the twelfth and thirteenth century. Beyond southern Italy, inventiones of the eleventh and twelfth centuries were used to articulate networks of secular authority across Europe. The work of Edina Bozoky has demonstrated this well.364 Thus, the presence of a secular authority was a common hallmark of inventiones, making the absence of lay rulers all the more notable in the Vita S. Pardi.

362 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 272vb. 363 See the more comprehensive discussion of this in Anderson, “Historical Memory,” ch. 4. 364 See, in particular, Bozoky, La politique des reliques, de Constantin à Saint Louis (Paris: Beauchesne, 2006). 97

One significant difference between these sources and the Vita S. Pardi might be the fact that the Vita S. Pardi was composed in a territory that had a past marked by political instability along a fault line between Byzantine and Lombard powers. While political uncertainty was not uncommon for most communities in southern Italy between the ninth and twelfth centuries, the citizens of Larino, like many Apulian territories, lacked a sense of concrete and continuous history. Larino was likely abandoned for years between the seventh and ninth century and during much of the tenth century, as it was being rebuilt, it lay in a contested region.

Further, unlike the Vita S. Pardi, the above mentioned Beneventan hagiographies developed in territories that orbited the Lombard capital cities, closely linked with Lombard secular rule and the Beneventan church at the time they were composed.365 Some of these sources were even composed in Benevento and commissioned by Lombard princes or bishops. Instead, Larino was geographically removed from the Lombard center of power and seat of the archbishop. Assuming the Vita was composed sometime between the late tenth and mid eleventh century, perhaps the lack of lay power in this Vita was a factor of Larino’s position along this political and social frontier. While Larino did remain in Lombard hands, as mentioned above, this was certainly not always a given. The people of Larino witnessed the expansion of Byzantine thema over the course of decades and saw its neighbors, like Lucera and Lesina, pass into the hands of Greek control. Radoinus’ lack of focus on lay power in the form of dukes, counts, or the Lombard prince himself, is perhaps reflective of the recent history of instability associated with secular rule in this territory.

By focusing instead on the activity and identity of a saintly bishop, Radoinus organized the identity of Larino around the protection of St Pardus, supplying eternal patronage in a period following upheaval. Ultimately, the focus on St Pardus’ protection was a way to hone in on a sense of stability. The bond between a community and a long-deceased (but sainted) bishop, in some ways, offered more stability than a bond with a living prelate or lord could in a territory along a frontier.

365 Translatio SS. Januarii, Festi et Desiderii (BHL 4140), in AASS September 4, 889-891; Translatio duodecim fratrum, ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 574-6; Translatio S. Bartholomae, ed. Westerbergh, in Anastasius Bibliothecarius Sermo Theodori Studiae de sancto Bartolomeo apostolo: A Study (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1963). 98

Radoinus also used Pardus’ sanctity to further articulate Larino’s bond with the Latin Church and its rejection of Byzantine authority, as we will see below. In other words, the Vita was used to connect a frontier location to the center of a wider ecclesiastical administration. Simultaneous to revealing the perspectives of a somewhat liminal community in its position on a political faultline, a result of the ongoing conflicts between the Lombards and Byzantines, the Vita also expressed the desire to establish a sense of stability by taking control of the past.366

Constructing a Latin Identity for Larino: Rome and the Memory of St Barbatus in the Vita S. Pardi

Pardus was, technically speaking, an Italo-Greek saint. He was of Greek origin, albeit vaguely, and presided over a Greek Church with Greek parishioners. It is striking, however, that Pardus rejected this identity. When Pardus’ parishioners from Poliponissu returned to him begging for forgiveness, Pardus refused their supplications. Instead, he remained in Rome, seeking the counsel of Pope Cornelius. In fact, Pardus even asked the Pope to appoint some other bishop to rule over his former diocese in his place. Does this sequence of events intend to suggest that the pope in Rome ought to have had a claim over dioceses in Greece? The Pope’s confirmation of the see of Lucera to St Pardus also reinforces the sense that Lucera belonged to the Roman and, implicitly, Beneventan Church and thus is reflective of the effort of establishing historical precedent, similar to that found in the Vitalian forgery, once again revealing the blurred division between hagiography and history. This sequence in the Vita also shows that Pardus’ episcopal and spiritual authority in Italy, and therefore his patronage over Larino, descended from Rome (and not the Greek Church).

As the work of E. Tounta on Italo-Greek saints has demonstrated, these legendary figures at times took on an important role in mediating between Latin and Greek communities in southern

Italy through the course of the tenth and eleventh centuries.367 For example, in the eleventh-

366 For the idea of location defining the boundaries of hagiographical narrative, see Tounta, “Saints, Rulers and Communities,” 432. 367 Tounta, “Saints, Rulers and Communities”; See also, M. Re, “Italo-Greek Hagiography,” in Ashgate Research Companion to Byzantine Hagiography, ed. S. Efthymiadis, vol.1, Periods and Places (Farnham: Ashgate, 2011), 227- 58; S. Efthymiadis, “Les saints d’Italie méridionale (XIe-XIIe s.) et leur rôle dans la société locale,” in Byzantine Religious Culture, Studies in Honor of Alice-Mary Talbot, eds. D. Sullivan, E. Fisher and S. Papaioannou (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 347-72. 99

century Vita of St Vitalis of Castronovo (d. 994), the identity of the holy figure and the movement of his relics served to unify local Lombards and Byzantine Greeks living in eleventh- century Lucania in the Byzantine thema of Longobardia.368 In contrast, Radoinus emphasized the refusal of St Pardus to act as mediator between Greek and Latin, opting instead to demonstrate his saint’s preference for the Latin Church.

Another way in which Radoinus constructed the identity of the community of Larino and associated its patron saint with the Latin/Beneventan Church in southern Italy was through the memory of St Barbatus. In the Vita S. Pardi, Radoinus borrowed from the Vita Barbati to retell the events of the seventh century, when the Lombard Duke Romuald I and St Barbatus defeated the Byzantine Emperor Constans II. In the Vita Barbati, St Barbatus helped Duke Romuald I defeat the Byzantine emperor by convincing him to convert to Christianity. It is only after the duke converted that he won victory over the Greek armies. In exchange for his saintly protection, Duke Romuald granted St Barbatus episcopal authority over the see of Siponto and the shrine of

St Michael on Monte Gargano.369 Below is a comparison of this sequence of events in the Vita Barbati and the Vita S. Pardi:

Vita S. Pardi Vita Barbati:

Augustus Constantinus de sue urbe magno Qui [Constantinus] a Langobardorum manibus exercitu transfretavit maria venitque Italiam eripere cupiens suaque reducere Tarantum lata arva implens suo exercitu: ditioni, sicut olim precedentium se fuerat in Concite autem inde surgens cum suo apparatu, potestate, innumera multitudine suorum totam Apuliam vastavit, atque praedatus est. collecta, mare transgressus, Tarentum Inde Luceriam adiens acerrime dimicari jussit, penetravit. Inde profectus, pene omnes et diversas machinas apponi, quam diu Apuliae urbes depopulavit. Pergensque caperetur. Captam vero usque ad solum jussit opulentissimam urbem Luceriam gravissimis prosterni, et ea exusta igni, omnem populum, preliis cepit, eiusque omnia predonum direpta qui prius non fugerat, in captivitatem mitti. manibus, ad solum usque prostravit. De ciuius Alacer autem Augustus redditus de victoria, excido alacer effectus augustus, concitus sua suorum insatiatus adhuc scelere, praecepit castra movens, iuxta Beneventi moena amoveri castra, et ocius erga moena olim collocavit. Nec mora, coacervato exercitu, ad ditissimae Beneventi castra metari in qua expugnandam urbem cum diversis bellorum Romuwaldus Princeps, cum sanctissimo machinis suos magnates instituit. In qua urbe Sacerdote Barbato, et paucis ac validissimis Romualt, de quo supra retulimus, cum paucis, Longobardis morabatur. Qua circumsepta sed validissimis inerat Langobardis. Ibique

368 Tounta, “Saints, Rulers and Communities,” 449-53; The Vita S. Vitalis is in AASS March 2, 27-55. 369 Vita Barbati, 559-60. 100

praedonibus et innumerabili exercitu, novas sanctissimus pater Barbatus morabatur cum machinas apponi praecepit, ut dolo aut virtute illis [lengthy sequence of the conversion of ceperetur. Sed Dominus omnipotens, meritis Duke Romuald to Christianity]. . . Cesaris et orationibus Beati Barbati, enervavit vires quoque eius populi gressus Beneventi aditus militum: et sic demum Augustus vanus et non penetrabunt; sed concite revoluti, suos vacuus recessit, tantum acceptis obsidibus adeunt fines.”371 inde pervolat; Neapolimque ingressus et velivolum mare appetens, suos adiit fines.370

As mentioned above, the Vita Barbati was composed between the ninth and the tenth centuries, in the midst of the Byzantine expansion in Calabria and Apulia.372 In the Vita Barbati, the Lombard defeat over Constans II represented a pivotal moment in the legendary history for the Beneventan ecclesiastical administration. The Lombard triumph not only reflected the military strength of the Lombard rulers but, perhaps more importantly, helped to establish the authority of the Beneventan diocese in the Gargano peninsula after Duke Romuald I donated the diocese of

Siponto and the shrine of St Michael to St Barbatus.373

By the time the Vita S. Pardi was composed, the Vita Barbati had likely circulated throughout the Lombard principality. We have already seen that it probably shaped the content of the tenth- century Vitalian forgery as well as other hagiographical sources composed in the Lombard era. In the Vitalian forgery, the memory of St Barbatus helped to authenticate the Beneventan archdiocese’s power in a contested region.374 A similar process may have been at work also in the composition of the Vita S. Pardi. The use of St Barbatus in the Vita S. Pardi helped to lend authenticity to Radoinus’ historical narrative and to associate the contents of the Vita with the established legend of St Barbatus, which was linked specifically to the authority of the Beneventan/Latin Church in northern Apulia. The intersections between the history of St Pardus and St Barbatus helped to further establish a link between the frontier and Benevento.

370 Vita S. Pardi, 270bisvb. 371 Vita Barbati, 558. 372 On the dating of the Vita Barbati, see above. 373 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 218-19; Everett, Patron Saints, 40-8. 374 This argument is expanded at length in Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati,” 304-8 and in Ciaralli, Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 5: “. . .scelse Vitaliano quale autore del documento, in quanto questi era contemporaneo del vescovo Barbato, rifondatore della sede beneventana. . .”

101

While Radoinus did not borrow verbatim from the Vita Barbati, it is clear that the source influenced his own retelling of the events of 663. However, the similarities between the narratives are found mostly in the treatment of Barbatus’ role as a holy protector against the Byzantine armies. Notably, Radoinus skipped over a large portion of the Vita Barbati that deals with the conversion of the Lombard Duke Romuald I, focusing instead on the power of St Barbatus’ prayers. In fact, in contrast to the Vita Barbati, the figure of Duke Romuald plays a comparatively minor role in the Vita S. Pardi’s redaction of the victory over Constans II. This is in keeping with the general lack of lay authority throughout the Vita S. Pardi in favor of a focus on the bishop as the protector of his flock.

It should be noted however, that St Barbatus, while he defended the Lombards from the Byzantines and established episcopal supremacy on the Gargano peninsula, did not defend the city of Lucera from destruction. In fact, this may be another factor that drew Radoinus to incorporate this narrative within the Vita S. Pardi. According to the Vita S. Pardi, by the time Constans II entered southern Italy and destroyed Lucera, which is not described by Radoinus as an “opulentissimam urbem,” St Pardus’ relics had presumably been interred there for centuries, since Pardus’ death sometime in the third century. Thus, not only did Barbatus neglect to defend the city from destruction, so too did its former bishop, St Pardus, fail to protect his chosen diocese. Pardus’ silence during the 663 attack on Lucera brings us to the final theme to explore within the Vita S. Pardi. That is, the contrast between Lucera and Larino through the protection of St Pardus.

Breaking Byzantium: Understanding Larino, Lucera and Lesina in the Vita S. Pardi

In contrast to Larino, which remained loyal to Rome and Benevento, Radoinus cast the city of Lucera, which had fallen to the Byzantines by the late tenth century, as a place of destruction with no intervention from its saintly patron, Pardus. Therefore, while he “filled in” Larino’s past, Radoinus simultaneously stripped Lucera of its own historic saintly patron through the discovery and translation of Pardus to Larino. Ultimately, the movement of Pardus’ relics symbolically underscored the fates of Larino, Lesina, and Lucera, the former as blessed with an illustrious patron while the latter two cities were left in a ruinous state, either destroyed or forsaken by St Pardus.

102

As mentioned, Lucera was under the control of the Lombards in Benevento for most of the tenth century. A series of confirmations and court cases shows with more clarity that between 977 and 983, Bishop Landenolf of Lucera and Lesina was still subordinate to the authority of the Lombard princes and suffragans of the Beneventan archdiocese. However, these documents also illustrate that Bishop Landenolf may also have challenged the authority of his Beneventan superiors. On April 14, 977 Prince Pandulf I Ironhead and the Beneventan gastald, Landolf III, judged a conflict between Ursus, the tenth-century praepositus of Montecassino, and Bishop

Landenolf.375 The conflict centered on Montecassino’s rights to the river Lauro, which passed through the city of Lesina and, like the lake of Lesina, was a significant source of fish and revenue for the monastery.376 According to the praepositus Ursus of Montecassino, Bishop Landenolf had allowed his subjects to build along the banks of the river, land which had historically belonged to Montecassino. Both Ursus and Landenolf came to the royal palace in Benevento, where they presented their cases to Beneventan judges, the gastald, Prince Pandulf I, and Beneventan magnates (magnates).377 The prince and his associates judged in favor of Montecassino “without any opposition from bishop Landenolf and his successors.” The case, however, was not settled. In 980, another document, again dated according to the regnal years of Prince Pandulf I Ironhead and originating from the Beneventan royal palace, indicates a new complaint against Bishop Landenolf of Lucera. This time, Landenolf challenged the accusations of Ursus that he built a mill on land in Lesina, which also belonged to the monastery. The 980 document, once again, reports that Prince Pandulf I and his magnates judged in favor of

Montecassino.378 The confirmation of the territory in Lesina to Montecassino continued through the 980s. Even Emperor Otto II confirmed Montecassino’s rights in Lesina in October, 981: “vidilicet cellas et terras seu presas intus in ipsa civitate et foce et aquam que dicitur fluvio Laure et ripas ipsius fluvius ex utraque parte seu etiam et piscarias omnem terram. . .” Otto II

375 The document is in Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no. 10. 376 Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no.10. Here, Ursus provided a previous confirmation made to Montecassino “commorantes ex civitate Lesene integrum ipsum fluvium qui nominatur Lauri cum ripis et pertinentiis suis, et cum ipsa foce et piscationes et pertinentiis suis, quod partem eiusdem sui monasterii pertinentem haberet illuc in finibus ex eadem civitate Lesene, in omni ratione et ordine velud in eadem scriptione continere videtur.” 377 Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no. 10: “Dum nos Pando et Ludovicus gastaldei atque iudicibus civitati Beneventum quadam die stetissemus nos in sacratissimo Beneventi palatio ante vestigia superius dicti domni Pandulfi gloriosi principis, in qua aderat plures magnates, venerunt ante eunde gloriosa potestas Ursus venerabilis diaconus et prepositus monasterii Sancti Benedicti situs in Monte Casino. . .ex parte etenim altera, venerunt Landenolfus venerabilis episcopus sancte Lucerine sedis.” 378 Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no 13. 103

concluded his confirmation warning that “no duke, marquis, count, viscount, bishop, gastald, and no person either great or small of our kingdom (nostri regni), nor the bishop Landenolf might henceforth pass into (intromittere) this land or dare to do anything contrary to this church or monastery. . .”379 Therefore, while these documents show that Landenolf was perceived to have been under the authority of the Lombards in Benevento, he was not entirely cooperative with other ecclesiastical institutions and authority figures tied to the Beneventan archdiocese and court.

In 983, Bishop Landenolf was still a suffragan of the archdiocese of Benevento and loyal to the

Beneventan court, but by 1005 the situation had changed.380 Sometime between the 980s and early eleventh century, Lucera passed into Byzantine hands and Landenolf (who also presided over the see of Lesina at this time) was elevated to the status of archbishop by the Byzantine emperor. A 1005 document mentions Landenolf with the title archiepiscopus. This charter was written in Lesina and reports the confirmation of a portion of land within Lesina and around the Lake of Lesina to the abbot of the monastery of Santa Maria di Tremiti. The island monastery benefitted from the land in Lesina as a source of revenue because, as mentioned, the lake of Lesina was a rich economic resource for fishing. Unlike the previous documents from the 980s, in which the confirmations are dated to the regnal years of the Lombard princes, the 1005 document is dated according to the reign of the Byzantine emperor, showing that the city had been taken by the Byzantines.381 The apparent shift in Landenolf’s episcopal status, from bishop to archiepiscopus, resulted precisely from the annexation of Lucera by Byzantine officials and the subsequent elevation of its bishop to the status of archbishop.382 Here, ecclesiastical reform went hand in hand with wider political contests.

It bears repeating that the annexation of the sees of Lucera and Lesina was likely a heavy blow for the Lombards and the archdiocese of Benevento. At the very least, it weakened the

379 Leccisotti, ed., Le colonie, no. 15: “ideo praecipientes omnino iubemus ut nullus dux, marchio, comes, vicecomes, episcopus, castaldus nullaque nostri regni magna aut parva persona, seu iam dictus Landenulfus episcopus, de ipsa iam dicta terra deinceps intromittere se audeat neque aliquam contrarietatem de ea ecclesia aut monachis faciat. . .” 380 von Falkenhausen, La dominazione,167-8; Kehr, Italia pontificia, 9:56. 381 The concession is edited in Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 2:3-4, no. 1: “Quinquagesimo anno imperii domini Basili et quadragesimo nono anno imperii domini Constantini sanctissimis imperatoribus nostris, mense novembri quarta indictio.” 382 von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 168; Loud, “Southern Italy in the Tenth Century,” 631. 104

Beneventan presence in a region where Byzantine and Lombard authority overlapped, threatening the ecclesiastical authority over not only Lucera and Lesina, key territories in their own right, but also in more crucial dioceses, like Siponto, where a Beneventan diocese overlapped with the Byzantine thema Longobardia.383 Indeed, to complicate matters, while the Beneventan archbishop continued to claim jurisdiction over Siponto, in 1023 an archbishop was appointed there by Byzantine authorities.384 Thus, the loss of Lucera and Lesina had the very real potential of impacting the loyalty of the churchmen and population in those territories, especially since figures like Bishop Landenolf of Lucera apparently already had a history of contention with institutions associated with Beneventan authority. Further, the elevation to archbishop in a Byzantine-controlled territory came also with a good deal of political authority. In Byzantine territories like Bari, Trani, and Lucera, bishops acted as agents of authority, uniting a populace within a Byzantine administration, acting in line with secular authority.385

For the remainder of this chapter, I would like to suggest that Radoinus’ treatment of Lucera and Lesina in the Vita S. Pardi was a result of the loss of these two territories to Byzantium. If Radoinus composed the Vita sometime between the late tenth and early eleventh century, this political context would make sense of the dynamic between Lucera, Lesina, and Larino expressed in the narrative. Through each of the three invasions that Radoinus described, he used the activity or inactivity of St Pardus’ relics to signal the saint’s favor for Larino, the only diocese that remained loyal to the Beneventan archdiocese through the eleventh century and consequently the only territory that benefited from his divine protection. Before each sequence of invasion, Radoinus began his description with a variation on the following words: “permisit Omnipotens flagellari eos plagis maximis, etiam et totam Apuliam depopulari” (“the Omnipotent (Lord) permitted these (lands/people) to be struck by great scourges and all of Apulia to be destroyed.”) This repetition signals the pattern around which Radoinus structured the second half of the Vita, compelling the audience to connect the three historical invasions with the intervention or lack thereof of St Pardus.

383 von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 168. 384 von Falkenhausen, La dominazione, 167; Loud, Latin Church, 34; Petrucci, ed., Codice diplomatico, 2:27. 385 Martin, La Pouille, 625. 105

With the invasion of Constans II, the city of Lucera was destroyed, just as the Vita Barbati reported. Radoinus, however, added his own interpretation to this account by reporting that the citizens of Lucera were taken into captivity, leaving Pardus’ relics behind while their anonymous bishop of Lucera somehow escaped the destruction and hid in Lesina. Next came the invasion of the Saracens: “Sed postquam Dominus permisit flagellari Ausoniam barbarorum gladiis, sunt ingressi Agareni et late eam depopulantes.” (“but after the Lord permitted Italy to be struck by the swords of the Saracen…”) This invasion brought the destruction and depopulation of Larino. As they wandered through the fields, the citizens of Larino learned of the loss of their patrons, Sts Primianus and Firmanus. Just as they were without a home, so too had they lost their saints. However, soon the people of Larino would gain a new patron as they discovered the (almost) complete body of St Pardus. After the discovery of Pardus’ body, the citizens of Larino returned home, where they benefited from his divine protection. The citizens, according to Radoinus, cried out to Pardus: “be near to those citizens of Larino who have suffered, so that we may merit your entrance within the walls of this city and to have you as a defender and protector, not only of our bodies but also our souls.”386

In the Vita, the third and final invasion occurred in the first half of the tenth century, as the Huns swept through Apulia: “Tempore autem quodam, quo Dominus permisit flagellari Italos pro suis iniquitatibus flagellis Paganorum, ingressi Ungari experiam” (“At that time, when the Lord permitted the people of Italy to be struck by the swords of the pagans on account of their sins, the

Huns entered Italy.”)387 Although the Vita describes how the Huns destroyed the surrounding areas and had even captured some citizens of Larino, they were unable to defeat Larino. Unlike during the attack of the Saracens, the people of Larino had now discovered and enshrined the relics of St Pardus. Through his divine protection, Pardus freed the citizens who had been taken into captivity by the Huns. Following this, the Huns once again attempted to steal from the church where St Pardus’ relics lay. However, Pardus blinded them and they were unable to steal his sacred remains.

386 Vita S. Pardi, fol. 272ra : “adesto nunc afflictis reliquiis Larinensium et concede ut infra moenia istius civitatis intromissum, te mereamur habere protectorem et defensorem, non solum corporum sed etiam animarum.” 387 experiam must be a form of Hesperiam, sometimes referring to Italy but also to the West in general. In this context, it makes more sense to translate it as Italy rather than the West. 106

The Vita’s presentation of the incursions throughout Apulia purposefully contrasts the cities of Lucera and Larino. Whereas the people and the bishop of Lucera fled, their town destroyed and citizens held in captivity by Constans II and his army, the people of Larino were permitted to return home and their citizens were released. Although Pardus was interred in Lucera, Larino gained his relics and his protection. The discovery and translation to Larino mirrors Pardus’ initial arrival in Lucera after his visit with Pope Cornelius. At that point, Lucera was under the authority of Rome but had lost the favor of Pardus after it had been abandoned and destroyed. Instead, as Larino remained faithful to the Beneventan Church, the episcopal protection and power of St Pardus moved instead to Larino. Further, Larino, while not immune from the chaos surrounding it, was protected from destruction as it underwent incursion after incursion

Liturgical Memory and the Cult of St Pardus from Larino to Benevento

For those celebrating the feast of St Pardus in Larino, the illustrious past of their community was recalled and connected to the history of the Latin Church as well as the archdiocese of Benevento. We know also that this message of connectivity between the Beneventan Church and Larino was eventually transmitted to the city of Benevento. Sometime in the second half of the eleventh century, the Vita was included in a Beneventan liturgical codex, BC 6. Further, colophons in eleventh- and twelfth-century Beneventan lectionaries and sanctorales also indicate that the feast of his discovery and translation was celebrated in Benevento.388 In the celebration of St Pardus, liturgy performed and sanctified the authority of the Beneventan Church, expressed also in other archival material, like the false privilege of Vitalian. Namely, when it was read as a part of the liturgy in eleventh-century Benevento, the Vita S. Pardi celebrated the legendary triumph of the Latin/Beneventan Church and the persistence of sanctity along a political frontier, even if the Lombard principality had waned and the episcopal jurisdiction of the Beneventan archbishops had retracted by the late eleventh century. The Vita was a way to maintain and remember a sense of strength during a period when Beneventan ecclesiastical jurisdiction continued to be challenged by both Greek and Norman authorities in southern Italy.

388 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 3:1522. The rubric, “S. Pardi mart. in S. Sophia,” is in the calendars Benevento, BC 29; Vatican City, BAV, Vat. lat. 4928; and Naples, BN VI E 43; the Benevento, BC 37; Vatican City, BAV, 5949, and London, BL Add. 23776. These manuscripts are all attributed to the scriptorium of Santa Sofia but may well have circulated in other Beneventan institutions. 107

BC 6 is a composite manuscript, made up of readings following the temporale as well as hagiographic readings used on a specific saint’s feast day. Mallet and Thibaut have argued that the manuscript was compiled over the course of a century, with the earliest section dating to the late tenth century and the latest section originating in the late eleventh century. Based on its paleography and codicology, Mallet and Thibaut as well as Virginia Brown have argued that BC 6 was likely created in Benevento and made for use in the city. While these scholars did not go into more detail on the provenance of BC 6, the codex may have been made for use in Benevento’s cathedral, given a general focus of bishop and confessor saints in the hagiographic readings throughout the manuscript.389 Another reason to believe that BC 6 may have been read within the cathedral of Benevento is that two sermons in the manuscript, including one for use during the feast day of the dedicatione ecclesiae, have been attributed to Epiphanius, the late fifth-century bishop of Benevento.390 Of course, this focus does not exclude the possibility that BC 6 was used in one of Benevento’s monastic communities. In either setting, the lectiones in

BC 6 may have been used either in the celebration of the Mass or Office.391

The manuscript has 274 folios and measures 335 x 250 mm. It lacks illuminations and colored ornamental capitals (Fig. 1). BC 6 was not a deluxe liturgical manuscript but evidence of wear and tear suggests that it was used frequently by its community (Fig. 1). It was devised in three

389 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:150; Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 686. For general use of Italian homiliaries see M. Martin, “The Italian Homiliary: an example pro omnibus bonis operibus produced according to the ‘new’ Carolingian homiletic genre and reform measures,” Sacris erudiri 49 (2010): 262; A. Hughes, Medieval Manuscripts for Mass and Office: A Guide to their Organization and Terminology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982), no. 627. On the forms and functions of homiliaries in general, see R. Grégoire, Homéliaires liturgiques médiévaux: analyse de manuscrits (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 1980); R. Étaix, Homéliaires patristiques latins: recueil d'études de manuscrits médiévaux (Paris: Institut d'études augustiniennes, 1994). 390 These are: the sermo for the second Sunday after the feast of St Martin, which is on November 10 (BC 6, fols. 35r- 39r) and a sermo following the feast of the dediatione ecclesie (BC 6, fols. 166rb-168rb). See note 393 below on the possibility of the dedicatio ecclesie referring to the cathedral of Benevento. See also Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:58; the sermons are edited in A. Erickson, Sancti Epiphanii episcopii interpretatio evangeliorum (Lund: C. W. K. Gleerup, 1939) 61-7 and 27-9; for the attribution to Bishop Epiphanius, see G. Morin, “Le commentaire inédit de l'évêque latin Epiphanius sur les Evangiles,” Revue Bénédictine 24 (1907): 357-8. For Epiphanius, see Ughelli, Italia sacra, 8:16. 391 In the tenth and eleventh centuries, homiliaries were used in the Mass and Office as well as during other liturgical celebrations. For their use in preaching, see Martin, “The Italian Homiliary,” 261-1. For homiliaries used during the Office, see M. Fassler, “Sermons, Sacramentaries, and Early Sources for the Office in the Latin West: The Example of Advent,” in The Divine Office in the Latin Middle Ages, 33-6; Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:54. Out of the seven homiliaries held in Benevento’s Biblioteca Capitolare, only BC 12 can be situated within a more precise liturgical setting. Two of the readings held in the manuscript (fols. 182v-186v) include neumes for the third nocturne of Tenebrae, indicating a “caractère particulier de la liturgie du Triduum pascal.” In addition to this, the lectio on fol. 187 opens with the following: “legatur ad mensam,” suggesting perhaps that it was used in a monastic refectory. 108

main segments: First, there are homiletic readings for the fifth Sunday post s. Angeli (the feast of

St Michael the Archangel, 29 September),392 expositiones for other feasts celebrated in the temporale including expositiones for the common of saints and expositiones for the feast of the dedication of the church (fols.1r-174v).393 Mallet and Thibaut dated this first section to the late tenth or early eleventh century. This first section, being the original extant portion of BC 6, was probably the sister homiliary to Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare, MS 10 (BC 10), according to Mallet and Thibaut. BC 10 is similarly dated to the late tenth or early eleventh century and ends on the third Sunday post S. Angeli.394 In the second segment of BC 6, one finds the book of Esther from the and the Vita et obitus S. Basylii by Ursus of Naples (fols.175r-208v), the latter written towards the end of the ninth century but must have been added to BC 6 at a later date. Mallet and Thibaut dated this section to the mid to late eleventh century.395 Third, one finds a collection of hagiographic texts (fol. 209r-273r), to be read on specific feast days. According to Mallet and Thibaut, this third section was probably added to BC 6 in the second half of the eleventh century.396 BC 6 was written in Beneventan minuscule and Mallet and Thibaut identified five separate hands at work throughout the manuscript, attesting to the manuscript’s development at different points in time.397

392 Celebrated on the second Kalends of October. Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:191. 393 It is tempting to associate the expositiones for the dedicatio ecclesiase with that of the anniversary of the dedication of the Beneventan cathedral, celebrated on December 18. The majority of homilies in BC 6 appear to cover primarily the month of November, ending with the feast of St on November 30, followed by expositiones for the common of saints where the reading for the dedicatio ecclesie is positioned. That said, the feast of St Nicholas, who also appears in an extensive set of readings composed before 1087 (the date of the translatio of St Nicholas from Myra to Bari) and added to BC 6 in the second half of the eleventh century, was celebrated on December 6. 394 BC 6 is damaged in its beginning. This in conjunction with the codicology and paleography led Mallet and Thibaut to connect it to BC 10: Where BC 10 is damaged in its end, terminating on the third Sunday post S. Angeli, BC 6 begins (after the damaged section) on the fifth Sunday post S. Angeli. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:64, n. 6. A full analysis of the content of BC 6 has been undertaken as a part of the Repertorio degli Omeliari del Medioevo (R.O.M.E.) research project sponsored by SISMEL and the Laboratorio per lo studio del libro antico of the Università degli studi di Cassino e del Lazio meridionale (UNICLaM). See L. Buono’s work on fols. 1r-174v: http://www.mirabileweb.it/search-manuscript/benevento-biblioteca-capitolare-6-manuscript/23/20628; 395 The addition of the book of Esther is inseparable from the addition of the Vita et obitus s. Basylii. Both are in the same hand and since the Vita et obitus S. Basylii was composed around the end of the tenth century, the addition of these sources probably occurred around that time. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:63-4. Mallet and Thibaut note, however, that the placement of the Book of Esther in BC 6 is curious. Typically it was read during the night vigils during September but BC 6 covers feasts in November. 396 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:151-60. 397 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:151. 109

Figure 1 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 6, fol. 269v. The opening to the Vita S. Pardi.

110

The Vita et obitus S. Pardi is the final text in the third section in the manuscript, with a colophon indicating its use on the sixth kalends of November (October 27), the feastday of St Pardus’ inventio and translatio from Lucera to Larino. Since the first portion of the manuscript covers readings for the month of November (beginning five Sundays after the feast of St Michael on September 29) and included some readings for saints’ feast days celebrated throughout November, it is very possible that the addition of the Vita S. Pardi at the end of the manuscript was intended to supplement or to be incorporated within the material included in the first part

(fols. 1r-174v).398

It may also be worth noting that Pardus’ Vita was read on the feast of his inventio and translatio (October 27) rather than his primary feast day of May 26. Pardus’ text could have been read on the feast of his inventio and translatio rather than in May specifically in order to privilege the events of his discovery and translation and therefore to celebrate Larino’s historic loyalty to Benevento in contrast to the fallen cities of Lucera and Lesina. This narrative would have sent an attractive message to Beneventan authorities by the late eleventh century as Lombard authority had retracted.

The Vita S. Pardi could also have been compiled within BC 6 in order to complement the other texts in the homiliary, such as those that celebrated the feast of St Michael the Archangel as well as those with a focus on saints of Greek origin or association.399 As mentioned, BC 6 begins almost precisely where its sister homiliary, BC 10, leaves off on the third Sunday following the feast of St Michael. In BC 10, the feast of St Michael on September 29 is rubricated with the following words: “II Kal. Octub. Dedicatio erit beati Michaelis archangeli in Monte Gargano” (“on the second kalends of October there will be the feast of St Michael the Archangel on Monte

Gargano.”)400 In other words, both BC 10 and BC 6 contain different readings for use on the feast of St Michael on Monte Gargano (BC 10) and the Sundays that follow (BC 6). Since the Vita S. Pardi was about a territory located near Monte Gargano and referenced the Lombard and

398 For instance, the Vita et obitus S. Bricii (BHL 1452) (feast on November 13) is between readings for the second Dominica post S. Martini (November 9) and the feast of St Andrew the Apostle (November 30). Thus, the Vita S. Pardi would have been presumably used after the Vita S. Bricii and before the feast of St Andrew. 399 For a complete list of the contents, feast days, and analysis of the manuscript see Mallet and Thibaut’s Les manuscrits, 1:50-61. 400 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:191. 111

Beneventan triumph over the Byzantine emperor Constans II and the Beneventan bishop’s acquisition of Monte Gargano, it may well have been considered a complementary source to the liturgical time celebrating St Michael the Archangel.401

Furthermore, the collection of hagiographies in BC 6 illustrates a general focus on saints of Greek and/or Mediterranean origin or identity. In addition to St Pardus, other hagiographic sources added to BC 6 are an extensive set of readings for St Nicholas of Myra, including a Vita S. Nicolai by John the Deacon of Naples and a series of miracula of St Nicholas, as well as readings for St by the tenth-century priest Ursus of Naples and the Vita et obitus of Paula the Widow, who was closely associated with the Holy Land.402

Added to BC 6 sometime in the late eleventh century, the sources about St Nicholas of Myra take up a considerable portion of BC 6 and somewhat help to explain the methods at work in the compilation of BC 6. St Nicholas of Myra, like St Pardus, was an early-medieval bishop from a Greek territory. Nicholas’ relics were translated from Myra to Bari in 1087, where his primary cult still exists today. In Bari, Nicholas’ relics attracted pilgrims from all over Europe, making the city the most celebrated holy site dedicated to the ancient bishop.403 The sources about St Nicholas in BC 6 were all composed prior to his translation from Myra to Bari in 1087 and pertain to St Nicholas’ episcopal activity and miracles in Myra. The addition of these sources in BC 6 in the late eleventh century correlate to a period of heightened interest in the saint throughout southern Italy after the arrival of his relics in Bari.

In fact, sometime soon after the translation of St Nicholas from Myra to Bari, a cult dedicated to

Nicholas appeared specifically in Benevento.404 One text in particular reveals the impetus of this cult: the Adventus Sancti Nycolai in Beneventum was composed in the late eleventh century,

401 For the sources following the dedicatio S. Michaelis in Monte Gargano in the order in which they would appear through the liturgical year, see Mallet and Thibaut, Les Manuscrits, 1:191, 192, 151, 152. For the customary celebration of the feast of St Michael in the Roman Homiliary, see Grégoire, Homéliaires liturgiques médiévaux, 180. 402 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:158-60. In the order in which they appear in BC 6, the hagiographies included are as follows: Vita et obitus S. Basylii conf. et epi. (BHL 1024) (attributed to Ursus, priest of Naples); Vita Beati Nicolai conf. et epi. (BHL 6104-6106) (attributed to John the Deacon of Naples); Alia Miracula Beatissimi Nicolai (BHL 6150-6156, 6160-6161, 6163, 6165, 6267); In honorem S. Nicolai (edited in Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:appendix); Vita S. Mauri abbatis (BHL 5773); Vita et obitus S. Paule (BHL 6548); Vita S. Pardi conf. epi. (BHL 6465). 403 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 1, 97. 404 C. Lepore and R. Valli, “L’Adventus S. Nycolai Beneventum,” Studi Beneventani 7 (1998): 8-9. 112

soon after the translation of Nicholas to Bari, and tells how St Nicholas himself requested that his relics be removed from Bari and translated instead to Benevento.405 In a clear spirit of rivalry, the Adventus contrasts Benevento and Bari by portraying Bari as a destitute land while depicting

Benevento as an ancient and holy city, blessed by the saints.406 St Nicholas even objected to being enshrined in Benevento’s cathedral because it was already overflowing with a great many holy figures, including St Barbatus, who likewise attested to the city’s sanctity.407

Oldfield has suggested that the text and the promotion of a cult of St Nicholas in Benevento was an attempt to attract pilgrims to the city by drawing them away from Bari, the site where St

Nicholas decided not to stay.408 This is probably true, but the Adventus also includes a similar set of underlying messages as found in the Vita S. Pardi. Namely, it emphasized Benevento’s superiority over territories lost to political rivals along the Apulian frontier. While it was once a Lombard territory, Bari was handed over to the Byzantines in 876, and by the late tenth century would become the Byzantine capital of the thema of Longobardia.409 Bari remained Byzantine until 1071, when it was captured by the Normans. In its portrayal of Bari as a destitute land, “without bread or wine or water,” the Adventus also claimed that Benevento remained the locus of sanctity as other territories slipped into disarray, perhaps signalling the loss of these cities to political rivals and violence.410

Nicholas’ late eleventh-century cult in Benevento was centered on some of the same themes we see in the Vita S. Pardi, which may help to explain why these two saints were paired in BC 6. Both saints were bishops who left Greek territories; both promoted Benevento’s superiority and holiness in contrast to other places. Together, the focus on St Michael, St Nicholas, and the addition of St Pardus’ Vita in BC 6 reveals a general focus throughout the manuscript on the sanctity of the Beneventan Church and city, especially in relation to historically contested territories in Apulia, a frontier zone. Thus, it is not random that there is an underlying focus in

405 The Adventus is held in BC 1, dated to the twelfth century and probably from the monastery of Santa Sophia in Benevento. The Adventus praises the late eleventh century rector of Benevento, Dacomarius (1077-1097), who was a patron of of the monastery of Santa Sophia. See chapter 3 for further discussion of this manuscript. 406 C. Lepore and R. Valli, “L’Adventus S. Nycolai Beneventum,” 54. 407 Lepore and Valli, “L’Adventus S. Nycolai Beneventum,” 58. 408 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 97. 409 Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 19, 33-4. 410 Lepore and Valli, “L’Adventus S. Nycolai Beneventum,” 50. 113

BC 6 on these saints whose relics were discovered or translated in Byzantine Apulia by members of the Latin Church. Michael the Archangel, of course, was known for his apparition and the inventio of his cave sanctuary on Monte Gargano, a site in the midst of conflict between the Byzantine and Latin authorities; St Nicholas’ relics were translated after lay people from Bari traveled to (Byzantine) Myra and “uncovered” his relics in a manner not unlike a typical inventio scene, where the relics produced a saintly perfume.411 Pardus’ inventio similarly occurred in the frontier between Byzantine and Latin hegemonies.

If the sources on St Nicholas, St Michael, and St Pardus, gathered in BC 6 can be seen individually as an effort to reimagine the past along the Byzantine/Latin frontier, so too can the manuscript as a whole display an effort to organize the past. Here, in the collection of sources in BC 6, we can see clearly the usefulness of inventiones and translationes in contributing to that wider attempt to creatively (re)write a sacred history. The saints who were discovered carried with them the memory of a prestigious (if not idealized) past and the power of the Latin Church. From this standpoint, the meaning within the Vita S. Pardi, as examined above, can be used as a tool to help explain the mentalities behind the compilation of BC 6 and the dissemination of the cult of St Pardus in Benevento.

Conclusion

While the confirmations and praecepta that stemmed from the highest ranking members of society were seemingly used as a matter of routine in the political struggle over land and in an effort to establish historic authority over contested territory, we must also remember the hagiographical narratives, used commonly in the liturgy, as one of the most powerful vehicles for taking control of the past. In Larino, the Vita S. Pardi bound the past to the late tenth/early eleventh century through a reimagining of the history of the diocese and its relationship with its neighbors.

411 On the translation of St Nicholas, see Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 202-8; C.W. Jones, Saint Nicholas of Myra, Bari, and Manhattan: Biography of a Legend (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978); An edition of the translation account is in F. Nitti di Vito, “La traslazione delle reliquie di San Nicola,” Iapigia 8 (1937) 295-411 and an Italian translation can be found in P. Corsi, La traslazione di San Nicola: le fonti (Bari: Biblioteca di San Nicola, Centro studi nicolaiani, 1988). 114

Radoinus’ prologue reminds us that the experience of the Vita, like all aspects of the liturgy, was embodied. As the faithful listened, they also saw and imagined. Even the processes of authoring, copying, and transmitting, as all medievalists appreciate, was an effort made by the intellect and body alike. While sources like the Vita preserve for modern historians a clue about the formation of collective memory and identities, among the most powerful tools were the embodied practices contained in the liturgy and through which sources like the Vita S. Pardi found meaning.412

412 B. Spinks, “Imagining the Past: Historical Methodologies and Liturgical Study,” in Liturgy’s Imagined Past/s, 7. 115

Chapter 3:The Discovery of St Mercurius: Identity and Memory in the Abbey of Santa Sofia, c. 1080-1120 Introduction

The last chapters introduced the ways in which the inventiones from the tenth and early eleventh centuries helped various authors articulate political and social relationships among their audiences through the production of memory from the past. We have seen how these sources used the memory of not only the saint and the process of discovery and translation but also local politics and the aspirations of the Lombard princes as a way to amplify their concerns, even when that meant downplaying the memory of the secular lord (as in the Vita S. Pardi). In this chapter, we will turn to a case study in which a twelfth-century community recalled its past in the eighth century and amplified its connection to a royal patron, Prince Arichis II, in the process of reformulating its archival memory through the transmission of the discovery of St Mercurius. Here, our attention will be divided between two sources that preserve the memory of St Mercurius: the Translatio S. Mercurii and praecepta held in the abbey’s chronicle-chartulary, the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae.

In a 1997 study, Graham Loud noted that despite the rich source material related to the history of Santa Sofia, the intellectual and spiritual culture of the abbey during the eleventh and twelfth centuries was understudied given the significant role the abbey played in Benevento between the eleventh and fourteenth centuries.413 A great credit is owed to the recent publications on the abbey, including the edition of the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae under the direction of Jean-Marie Martin, a 2010 study by Ian Wood, and the recent work by Julie Anderson on the literary culture of Benevento. However, there is still a considerable amount of material related to Santa Sofia that warrants closer analysis.414 The following chapter addresses the ways in which the abbey

413 Reprinted in Loud, “A Lombard Abbey in a Norman World: St Sofia, Benevento, 1050-1200,” in Montecassino and Benevento in the Middle Ages, ch. 8. 414 Martin, ed. Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae: cod. Vat. Lat. 4939 (henceforth CSS), 2 vols. (Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medio Evo, 2000). In his 2010 article, I. Wood focused on a later extant version of the prose Translatio S. Mercurii held in Veroli, Biblioteca Giovardiana, 1, dated to the early thirteenth century based on its paleography. Wood’s study provides a good overview of the later sources related to the reign of Arichis II that came from Santa Sofia but does not provide a thorough discussion how the text addressed the concerns on the eleventh and twelfth centuries. See Wood, “Giovardi, MS Verolensis, Arichis and Mercurius,” in Zwischen Niederschrift und Wiederschrift: Hagiographie und Historiographie im Spannungsfeld von Kompendienüberlieferung und

116

utilized the inventio narrative of St Mercurius in order to revisit its history within the liturgical and cartulary sources originating from the abbey’s scriptorium between the late eleventh and the early twelfth century. Here, I build upon the observations made by Anderson and Wood that the Translatio narrative ought to be considered in a later context. In particular, this chapter takes a close look at the affinity between the twelfth-century recension of the Translatio S. Mercurii and the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae and I argue that the copying (authoring?) of the Translatio in the twelfth century was part of the same process at work in the compilation of sources in the Chronicon.

The abbey’s promotion of Mercurius during the late eleventh and early twelfth century took shape first and foremost through the production of liturgical sources. A twelfth-century monastic lectionary Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1 (hereafter BC 1) contains the earliest extant version of the Translatio S. Mercurii.415 In addition to the lectionary, eleventh- and twelfth- century sources related to the discovery include liturgical calendars from Santa Sofia as well as documents from the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae, a chronicle-cartulary, compiled between 1098 and 1119. The documents held in the Chronicon provide evidence that Mercurius’ relics attracted donations from local noblemen, regional ecclesiastics, and pious Norman lords during the last decades of the eleventh century and through the early twelfth century. The Chronicon and the

Editionstechnik, eds. R. Corradini, M. Diesenberger, M. Niederkorn-Bruck (Wien: Verlag der Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2010), 197-210. See also, Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 9-15 and 71-2 for a discussion of Prince Arichis and Santa Sofia as well as the liturgical material related to St Mercurius. For an overview of the CSS and Mercurius’ translation to Benevento, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 201-3 and 253-4. 415 For Mallet and Thibaut’s extensive work on BC 1, see Les manuscrits, 1:112-21. See section 4 below for more detail on the manuscript. In total, there are four versions of the Translatio S. Mercurii: two prose and two verse. I explain these in more detail on pp. 15-21. The editions of the prose versions are Translatio S. Mercurii (BHL 5936), ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 576-8. This edition is based on the late eleventh- or early twelfth-century recension in Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1. The second prose version is Translatio S. Mercurii (BHL 5937), ed. V. Giovardi, in Acta passionis et translationis sanctorum martyrum Mercurii ac XII fratrum (Rome: J.B. a Caporalibus, 1730), 55- 62. Giovardi’s edition is based on the thirteenth-century Veroli manuscript Codex Verolensis 1. For the verse versions, see “Paul the Deacon,” Carmen IX: Hymnus Pauli diaconi in translationem Beneventum corporis beati Mercurii martiris, ed. J. P. Minge, in PL 95, col. 1600. While attributed to the eighth-century court poet, there are reasons to believe that this poem comes from a much later period. See Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 202, n. 664. Finally, there is an anonymous verse in Metricum heroicum de translatione corporis S. Mercurii (BHL 5938), ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 578-80. In addition to these sources, material related to St Mercurius also includes the Metrum herocium de sancto martyro Mercurio by Bishop Landulf of Benevento (1108-1114/1116-1119), a Passio sancti Mercurii attributed to Arichis II, and a sermo by a Stephan monachus written in the second half of the twelfth century. These are all held in MS Verolensis 1. For the dating of this manuscript and the sources in it, see Giovardi, ed., Acta; Wood,”Giovardi,” 198-202. Wood provides a useful guide to the entire contents of the manuscript in his appendix. See also, G. Battelli, “Il lezionario di S. Sofia di Benevento,” Miscellanea Giovanni Mercati 6, in Studi e Testi 126 (1946): 282-91; Brown, “Catalogo dei più antichi manoscritti della biblioteca giovardiana di Veroli,” in Quaderni dell’Assessorato alla Cultura, sezione biblioteca e beni librari 1 (Rome, 1996), 3-8. 117

lectionary of Santa Sofia preserve the memory of Mercurius and Arichis in different but equally powerful ways that reveal how, during a period of political and cultural change, the abbey reimagined its own past both within its walls and throughout Benevento.

This chapter first summarizes the early history of Santa Sofia as well as its position in Benevento during the late eleventh and twelfth centuries. Next, I examine the extant liturgical material related to the celebration of the translation of St Mercurius in eleventh- and twelfth-century Benevento, including the lectionary that holds the earliest extant version of the Translatio. Finally, by placing the Translatio and certain documents copied in the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae side by side, this study explores how the two works were part of the process of reformulating memory during the late eleventh and early twelfth century.

The Abbey of Santa Sofia in Context

In 774, Duke Arichis II crowned himself princeps gentis Langobardorum and established the Principality of Benevento. For Arichis, Benevento was more than a city. It was a civitas nova, which would come to represent his authority as the leader of the new Lombard principality.416 At the center of Arichis’ attention to Benevento was the construction of the church complex of Santa Sofia sometime in the 760s. This construction consisted of two buildings: one a church and the other a female monastery.417 As an expression of his power, especially in relation to the Byzantine empire, Arichis is thought to have modeled Santa Sofia upon Justinian’s

416 The literature on the early history of the Principality of Benevento is vast. See especially, Gasparri, ed., 774: ipotesi su una transizione: atti del Seminario di Poggibonsi; Belting, “Studien zum Beneventanischen Hof im 8. Jahrhundert,” 141-193; Martin, La Pouille; von Falkenhausen, “I Longobardi meridionale,” in Il Mezzogiorno dai Bizantini a Federico II, Storia d’Italia, eds. G. Galasso, et al. (Turin: UTET, 1983), 3:251-52; Wickham, Early Medieval Italy; Roma, I Longobardi del Sud; Andenna and Picasso, eds., Longobardia e longobardi nell'Italia meridionale; Kreutz, Before the Normans; Ramseyer, The Transformation; Taviani-Carozzi, La Principauté lombarde de Salerne; Gasparri, I duchi longobardi; Thomas, Jeux lombards; On literacy in Lombard Italy, see Anderson, “Historical Memory”; Everett, Literacy in Lombard Italy. 417 It is uncertain whether or not construction on the convent of Santa Sofia predated the building of the church or vice versa. However, in the charters associated with the convent, Arichis II is claimed to be the founder of both institutions. It seems that when the relics of Mercurius were translated to the church of Santa Sofia, they were also placed in the guardianship of the monastery attesting to its presence in 768. Bloch and Belting argue that the church of Santa Sofia predated the convent by at least six years. However, the date and the consecration of the church are uncertain. On the chronology of the building program, see Bloch, Monte Cassino in the Middle Ages, 1:264-8. On the diplomatic records of Santa Sofia see Loud, “The Medieval Records of the Monastery of St Sofia, Benevento,” Archives 19 (1991): 364- 373; Loud, “The Abbots of St. Sofia, Benevento in the Eleventh Century,” Quellen und Forschungen aus Italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 71 (1991): 1-13. 118

in Constantinople.418 Unlike the Hagia Sophia, however, the Beneventan abbey appears to have developed at a later date a cult dedicated to St Sophia and her daughters, the fourth-century

Roman martyrs.419

In addition to being a material expression of his authority, the church complex of Santa Sofia was of personal importance to Arichis.420 After he took the title princeps, Arichis showered the church and the convent with donations.421 In a lengthy donation from 774, Arichis reportedly said that he built the abbey from the ground up for the salvation of his own spirit and the protection of his patria.422 In the earliest donations granted to Santa Sofia by Prince Arichis, which are copied in the abbey’s Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae, compiled between 1098 and 1119, the abbey was solely under the authority of the prince since there is no mention of the bishop of

Benevento in any of the transactions.423

418 See Belting, “Studien”; R. Krautheimer, “Introduction to an ‘Iconography of medieval Architecture,’” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 5 (1942): 1-33, at 2. 419 This is a notable distinction between the abbey of Santa Sofia and Hagia Sophia in Constantinople but one that may not have not developed until well after the abbey’s foundation in the eighth century. The passio of St Sophia and her daughters was integrated into the liturgy of the abbey sometime maybe around the twelfth century and seems to have been appropriated from the Milanese tradition. It does not seem that the cult of St Sophia had a large impact on the identity of the Beneventan abbey, like the Lombard saints like Mercurius and the Twelve Brothers, who appeared consistently in liturgical records of the late eleventh and twelfth centuries and were recorded in hagiographical accounts likely composed within the abbey. Textual evidence for the celebration of St Sophia’s passio exists, to my knowledge, only in two manuscripts associated with the abbey: BC 1 (contains the passio) and BC 66 (reference to the annual celebration on September 17). See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:121, 3:1518. On the Milanese tradition of St Sophia, see L. Robertini, “Il ‘Sapientia’ di Rosvita e le fonti agiografiche,” Studi medievali, 3rd ser. 30 (1989): 629-59. 420 Bloch, Monte Cassino in the Middle Ages, 1:264-8; Belting, “Studien,” 175-88. 421 Bloch, Monte Cassino in the Middle Ages, 1:265. For the following donations, see Poupardin, Les institutions, 66- 8, nos. 1-3. See especially the praeceptum donationum in CSS, 1:289-91. Before Martin’s edition, the Liber was edited in Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 10:420-32. See also, O. Bertolini “I documenti trascritti nel ‘Liber Praeceptorum Beneventani Monasterii S. Sophiae,’” in Studi di storia napoletana in onore di Michelangelo Schipa (Naples: Industrie tipografiche ed affini, 1926), 11-47. 422 CSS, 1:279-80: “offero in ecclesia Sanctae Sophiae, quam a fundamentis edificavi pro redemptione animae meae seu pro salvatione gentis nostre et patrie, oblationes omnes tam vivorum quam et defunctorum que in eodem monasterio a quibuscumque hominum date seu fuerint, seu omnes illos homines, qui cum rebus suis eidem monasterio se offerunt, hec omnia monasterio Sancte Sophie concessimus possidendum.” The date of 774 has been questioned by Martin. Martin argued that the date may have been more symbolic as a representation of when Arichis took the title Prince, and not when he founded the monastery of Santa Sofia. See Martin, “Introduction,” in CSS, 1:46- 7. 423 CSS, 1:289-364. Kelly took this as evidence that it had received an episcopal exemption but there is no official exemption within the Chronicon for such an early date. The formal exemptions come later in the abbey’s chronology. See Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 12-3. At this point, although the eighth-century bishops of Benevento sometimes held high-ranking positions in the princely court, it was the prince who held ultimate authority over the church in Benevento. For the role of bishops in the early Beneventan Principality, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” ch. 4; Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 12-3; Ramseyer, The Transformation, 44-5. 119

In addition to land and importance, Prince Arichis II also granted the relics of the saints to Santa Sofia as an act of political and spiritual power and consolidation. The eleventh- or twelfth- century recension of the Translatio duodecim fratrum tells that in 760 Arichis collected the bodies of the Twelve Holy Brothers from various locations in Apulia and interred them in Santa

Sofia.424 The legend of the Translatio duodecim fratrum underscores Prince Arichis’ authority through the successful translation of the saints’ relics, which had been dispersed throughout

Apulia in territories formerly belonging to the Byzantine Empire.425 By translating the relics of former Byzantine saints to Benevento, the Translatio duodecim fratrum represents the movement of power away from Byzantine territories, which surrounded the Principality of Benevento, and the simultaneous ascent of Arichis’ authority in his new capital.426 The Translatio S. Mercurii itself refers to the collection of the bodies of the Twelve Holy Brothers by Arichis II, claiming that this translation took place before he personally discovered the body of St Mercurius in the town of Quintodecimo, located about 15 miles south of Benevento. Quintodecimo had also been conquered by Byzantine Emperor Constans II in the seventh century.427 Thus the Translatio S. Mercurii emphasizes similar anti-Byzantine/pro-Lombard themes as found in other sources from the early-medieval period, like the Translatio duodecim fratrum and, as we saw in the previous chapter, the Vita S. Pardi. In fact, according to the legend, Constans II had transported St Mercurius’ relics from Constantinople to southern Italy precisely because he was known

424 The Twelve Holy Brothers were third- or fourth-century martyrs, originally from modern-day Tunisia but celebrated in southern Italy. There are two editions of the Translatio duodecim fratrum, both based on recensions dating from between the eleventh and thirteenth century. The first is in Giovardi, ed., Acta, 118-25.The second edition is in Translatio duodecim martyrum, ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 574-6. Waitz only edited the verse version of Archbishop Alphanus I of Salerno (d. 1085), which he (incorrectly) dated to the eighth century. See Wood, “Giovardi,” 198. In addition to the translation of the Twelve Holy Brothers and Mercurius, it is also possible that the translation of St Helianus to Benevento occurred in the eighth century. However, the evidence for this is slim. Like the Translatio duodecim martyrum and the Translatio S. Mercurii, the earliest version of the Translatio S. Heliani is held in BC 3, a monastic lectionary dated to the eleventh or twelfth century. The liturgical evidence for a cult of St Helianus in Benevento is (curiously) nonexistent. See Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 71, n. 46. For the edition, see Waitz, ed., Translatio S. Heliani (BHL 3799), ed.Waitz, in MGH SRLI, pp. 581-3. 425 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 199-200; On the collection of relics in eighth-century Benevento as an early form of “ideological influence,” see D. Harrison,“The Duke and the Archangel: A Hypothetical Model of Early State Integration in Southern Italy through the Cult of Saints,” Collegium Medievale 1 (1993): 5-33, at 26-7. 426 Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery,”180-1; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 199-200. 427 Quintodecimo is the medieval toponym for the ancient settlement of Aeclanum. It numbers among the sees subordinated to the diocese of Benevento in the bull issued by John XIII in 969. See Kehr, Italia Pontificia, 9:134 and Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:52. 120

throughout the Byzantine empire as a powerful warrior saint.428 By interring the relics within Santa Sofia, the royal foundation in the capital city, the political power of the Lombard prince was, in turn, amplified through these legends.429

The convent of Santa Sofia was converted from a female community to a male monastery sometime in the mid-tenth century. It is not clear why the monastery was converted but in the Chronicon’s Annales, an Rodelgarda is replaced with an Abbot Leo between 938 and 953. As a male monastery, Santa Sofia remained the Eigenkloster of the Lombard princes until the princely line ceased to exist in the 1070s.430 Until that point, Santa Sofia was the site of the princes’ inaugurations and burial ceremonies and continued to receive privileges and extensions of rights from the Lombard princes, even as Lombard princely authority was increasingly restricted to the area immediately surrounding Benevento during the tenth century.431 The fact that Santa Sofia was under the authority of the Lombard princes, who granted it extensive land and privileges, held great implications for the abbey’s future. Most importantly, Santa Sofia benefitted from the historic protection of the Lombard princes, whose patronage became the basis upon which its independence from neighboring ecclesiastical authorities was confirmed.432

By the middle of the eleventh century, the situation in Benevento had changed considerably. At this point, Santa Sofia dealt with several interrelated issues that motivated it to articulate its position within Benevento and with neighboring authorities. First, during the 1070s, Benevento went from being under the control of the Lombard princes to being recognized as a papal-

428 Some scholars have questioned the correlation between the relics discovered by Arichis and the Byzantine warrior saint Mercurius. Delehaye suggested that, in reality, Arichis unknowingly discovered the remains of a local holy man in Quintodecimo/Aeclanum also named Mercurius instead of the Byzantine saint. See H. Delehaye, “La translatio sancti Mercurii Beneventum,” in Mélanges d’hagiographie grecque et latine (Brussels: Société des Bollandistes, 1966), 189. Regardless, according to the legend, Arichis II believed that the relics belonged to the Byzantine warrior saint and the cult that developed subsequently in Benevento and throughout southern Italy was associated with the Byzantine saint and not the local holy man named Mercurius. To make such a distinction, therefore, has little or no bearing on the interpretation of the Translatio S. Mercurii. On the Byzantine hagiographical tradition of Mercurius, see Delehaye, Les légendes grecques des saints militaires (Paris: Arno Press, 1975), 234-42 and S. Binon, Documents grec inédits relatifs à S. Mercure de Césarée (Louvain: Presses universitaires de Louvain, 1937). For Mercurius’ Coptic passio see T. Orlandi, ed. Passione e miracoli di S. Mercurio, (Milan: Cisalpino-Goliardica, 1976); G. Godron, “À propos d’un récent ouvrage concernant saint Mercure,” in Institut français d’archéologie orientale, Livre du Centenaire (Cairo: IFAO, 1981), 213-23. 429 Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 303; Bozóky, La politique des reliques, 131-2. 430 Loud, “A Lombard Abbey,” 278-9; CSS, 1:224-5. 431 For the decline in Beneventan princely power in the tenth century, see Kreutz, Before the Normans, 121. 432 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 278-9; Martin, “La storia di Santa Sofia,” in CSS, 1:51-2. 121

controlled territory. At the same time, the members of the former Lombard administration continued to hold considerable authority over local affairs. Second, perhaps as a result of increased ties with Rome, Benevento held a series of prominent archbishops, who utilized hagiographical narrative to promote their role in civic affairs. Third, the monastery of Montecassino attempted to claim Santa Sofia as its daughter house, motivating the abbey to turn to papal support in its fight for independence from the Cassinese abbots. Finally, the growing power of the Norman lords in southern Italy brought new wealth as well as vulnerability to Santa Sofia, as it negotiated its relationship with these new authorities.

In 1073, the last Lombard prince, Landulf VI, granted control of Benevento to Pope Gregory

VII.433 Landulf VI had asked for Pope Gregory’s help in order to maintain control over Benevento in the face of increasing pressure from the new Norman lords, who had set their ambitions on the centrally-located and fortified city of Benevento.434 With Landulf’s death in 1077, Benevento remained under the control of Rome. However, while the city was officially under the authority of Rome, including the abbey of Santa Sofia, local nobility continued to play an important role in the city’s governance. For example, Benevento’s administrative center remained the former Lombard palace, and Beneventan judges retained the Lombard title gastald.435 As a result of this continuity in administration, the late eleventh century witnessed the rise of two local noblemen, Dacomarius and his son Anso. Dacomarius and Anso grew so influential that, at the request of Pope Paschal II, the Norman lord, Roger Borsa, attacked

Benevento in 1101 and expelled Anso.436 Therefore, while Beneventan institutions like Santa Sofia were submitted to the authority of Rome, the pope did not always exercise complete and harmonious control over the city. Instead, Beneventan nobility, like Dacomarius and his son Anso, proved at times to be very influential in daily governance.

In addition to local noblemen, another source of authority within Benevento were the papally- appointed rectors. The appointment of rectors in Benevento represented the only significant

433 Pope Gregory VII, Registrum Gregorii VII, ed. Caspar, MGH Epistolae selectae (Berlin: Weidmann, 1920-23) bk. 2.1, no. 18a, pp. 30-31. The declaration refers specifically to the submission of the prince to papal authority. 434 Loud, “Politics and Piety,” 284. 435 Oldfield, City and Community, 24. 436 Loud, Latin Church, 142. 122

change to local administration after the pope took control of Benevento.437 The pope appointed the rectors in order to represent his interests in the city and at times they appear to have taken a large role in the city’s administration, as we will see below. However, even these papal representatives were initially selected from the native Beneventan nobility while others were clerics associated with local churches. Similar to Dacomarius and Anso, it is clear that the papal rectors had a strong influence over local affairs, often working closely with the other members of the native Beneventan nobility. During the late eleventh century, the influence of Dacomarius, Anso, and a rector by the name of Stephen schuldahis, illustrates that, although the princely line ceased to exist, Lombard heritage and infrastructure were still alive in Benevento. Stephen schuldahis had formerly been a member of Prince Landulf VI’s court, and Dacomarius had also been a fidelis of Landulf VI.438

Ultimately, it was crucial for the abbey to maintain its bonds with both local leaders and the pope. Starting in the mid-tenth century, the pope became important to maintaining the abbey’s independence. A document from 945 records that Prince Landulf II of Benevento confirmed the independence of Santa Sofia and stated that the abbey was only under the authority of Rome.439 From this point, the abbey’s main source of patronage shifted from prince to pope. However, its submission to Rome was ultimately derived from the pope’s historical bond with the Lombard princes.440 Its relationship with Rome was more crucial than ever by the middle of the eleventh century, with the decline of the Lombard princes and a series of attempts made by Montecassino

437 Oldfield, City and Community, 24; Loud, “A provisional List of the Papal Rectos of Benevento, 1101-1227,” in Montecassino and Benevento, ch. 10. The origins of the institution of papal rectors is very unclear, as Loud has shown. The first two rectors in the late eleventh century, Stephanus and Dacomarius, having been associated formerly with the Lombard princely court, were members of the local elite. Later on, in the early twelfth century, papal rectors were usually external appointees. In 1106, for example, Peter, the Cardinal Bishop of Porto, was appointed as papal rector. Others during the twelfth century were associated with local churches, like Gerard, the cardinal priest of Santa Croce, who was rector in 1128. My thanks to Dr. Paul Oldfield for pointing out this distinction. See further, Loud, “Papal rectors.” 438 Oldfield, City and Community, 24-5; CSS, 2:683-90, where Stephen is listed among Beneventan nobles associated with Prince Landulf. 439 The event was recorded in a 1022 privilege of Pope Benedict VIII. See CSS, 2:616-620. It is also printed in Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 10:489-90 and Gattola, Historia Abbatiae Cassinensis, 1:56. See further, Bloch, Montecassino in the Middle Ages, 268; See also, E. Galasso, “Caratteri paleografici e diplomatici dell’atto privato a Capua e a Benevento prima del secolo XI,” in Il contributo dell'arcidiocesi di Capua alla vita religiosa e culturale del Meridione: Atti del Convegno Nazionale di Studi Storici promosso dalla Societa di Storia Patria di Terra di Lavoro, 26-31 ottobre 1966 (Rome: De Luce, 1967), 291-317. 440 Later confirmations continue to assert this: for example, CSS, 2:588-9, where Emperor Otto I confirms the abbey’s independence, which it held “ex quo fundatus est.” See also Martin, “La storia di S. Sofia,” in CSS, 1:58-9. 123

to claim Santa Sofia.441 The Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae emphasizes that it had inherited its status as an independent community because it was founded by the Lombard princes and then passed on to them by the authority of Rome.442

At the same time, Santa Sofia also relied on the piety and support of the local nobility in Benevento, like Dacomarius, Anso, and the papal rectors. In this relationship, the abbey was granted land, financial support, and protection within the city. Maintaining its possessions within and around Benevento was increasingly important for the abbey of Santa Sofia during the late eleventh century. By that point, the abbey had likely lost a portion of its original holdings granted by Arichis II and his successors as a result of renewed Byzantine expansion throughout

Apulia.443 In addition to this, since members of the Beneventan laity like Dacomarius and Anso had been connected to the Lombard princely court, they represented an important source of continuity in administration, potentially helping to maintain the status of Santa Sofia in Benevento through their support.

The second factor that impacted Santa Sofia during the eleventh and twelfth centuries was the increased attention to the Beneventan episcopacy, especially in the form of a renewal of hagiographic narratives that extolled the historical authority of the Beneventan cathedral.444 In

969, Pope John XIII elevated Benevento to an archdiocese.445 This elevation resulted primarily from increased ties between Benevento and Rome and the importance the pope placed on the

441 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant,” 36-7. 442 For example, see CSS, 2:620-3 for Leo IX’s confirmation of Santa Sofia’s independence in 1051-2. For the transition from king to pope in the privileges of monasteries in southern France, see Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 39. By the tenth century in southern France, the king “as an active presence gradually disappeared, leaving the local aristocracy (lay and ecclesiastical) predominant, seconded by the pope in distant Rome.” In Santa Sofia’s case, it seems to have kept its allegiances separate in the Chronicon documents since they were both so essential to maintain. 443 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 280-1. 444 On the early history of the diocese of Benevento see, Palmieri, “Duchi, principi e vescovi,” 43-99. St Januarius, the fourth century martyr, is believed to have been the first bishop of Benevento. See Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 6:13. 445 Ciaralli, de Donato, Matera, eds., Le più antiche carte, 47-8; Spinelli, “Il papato e la riorganizzazione ecclesiastica della Longobardia meridionale,” 33-42. Brown also commented on the growth of the Beneventan episcopacy during the late ninth and tenth centuries. During the ninth and tenth centuries, the Beneventan cathedral became the center of learning within the city. See Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 667-8. The Chronicon Salernitanum notes that there were thirty-two philosophi Christi who worked in Benevento and were likely associated with the cathedral during the late ninth century. U. Westerbergh, ed., Chronicon Salernitanum: A Critical Edition with Studies on Literary and Historical Sources and on Language (Stockholm: Almquist & Wiksell, 1956): “Ut retro traham stilum, tempore quo Samnitibus Lodogiucus sepedictus preerat, triginta duobus philosofis illo in tempore Beneventum habuisse perhibetur.” 124

Beneventan Church in the consolidation of ecclesiastical authority within southern Italy between the tenth and twelfth centuries.446 The elevation granted further jurisdiction to the diocese of Benevento and endowed it with a powerful patron in the pope. During the second half of the eleventh and the first decades of the twelfth century, Benevento held a series of prominent archbishops, who positioned themselves as central to the city’s ecclesiastical and political life. For these bishops, hagiographical narratives that strengthened the Beneventan cathedral’s prestige were a powerful tool to support their authority and to encourage the support and loyalty of local and regional authorities.

For instance, Archbishop Roffred I (1076-1107) commissioned the Translatio S. Bartholomei, which was based on an earlier ninth-century version. This text extolled the cathedral as the location of miraculous healings within Benevento.447 St Bartholomew stood as a marker for the archbishops’ authority throughout Benevento and may, at this time, have displaced some of the focus on the Lombard princes of the city’s past. Composed by a monk/priest named Martin, The late eleventh- or early twelfth-century version of the Translatio S. Bartholomei stressed the authority of the archbishops and diminished the governing power of secular authorities in the process of translating the relics of Bartholomew to Benevento.448 The Adventus S. Nycolai, which claims that St Nicholas of Myra had been translated from Bari to Benevento, as we saw in the previous chapter, also originates from Roffred’s episcopate.449 Similarly, Roffred’s successor, Archbishop Landulf II (1108-1119), oversaw the construction of a new basilica dedicated to St Bartholomew. A few years later, as reported by Falco of Benevento (c. 1070- 1144), the twelfth-century notary and lay chronicler, Archbishop Landulf II “rediscovered” the bodies of saints buried within the city, including those of John, the twenty-first archbishop of

Benevento.450 Landulf himself re-interred these relics in the cathedral during a large public

446 Spinelli, “Il papato e la riorganizzazione ecclesiastical della Longobardia meridionale,” 33. 447 Martinus monachus, Translatio S. Bartholomei apostoli (BHL 1008), ed. S. Borgia, in Memorie istoriche della pontificia città di Benevento dal sec. VIII al secolo XVIII (Roma: Dalle stampe del Salomoni, 1763), 1:333-48. This text was based on the ninth-century versions, but added more narrative as well as attention to the activity of the bishop to the legend. For the earlier versions of the Translatio S. Bartholomei, see Westerbergh, Anastasius Bibliothecarius; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 72. 448 See Galdi, Santi, territori, poteri, e uomini, 263. 449 Adventus S. Nycolai (BHL 6206), ed. G. Cangiano, “L’adventus sancti Nycolai in Beneventum,” Atti della Società storica del Sannio 2.2 (1924): 142-55. 450 Falco of Benevento, Chronicon Beneventanum: Città e feudi nell’Italia dei Normanni, ed. E. D’Angelo (Firenze: SISMEL, 1998), 46-52. The “discovery” also included the relics of Saints Marcianus, Dorus, Potitus and Prosperus,

125

celebration that spanned the entire city, at the center of which stood Archbishop Landulf and the

Beneventan cathedral.451 According to Falco, a great procession and celebration followed the elevatio: “was there a citizen living during that time who could recall the city in such utter jubilation? It seems to me that there had not been such joy since the arrival of the apostle

Bartholomew, the patron of our city.”452 Following this, Archbishop Roffred II (1120-1130) orchestrated the elevatio of St Barbatus in 1117. Barbatus, as we saw in chapter 2, was one of the most prominent representations of the authority of the Beneventan episcopacy and Lombard authority throughout southern Italy. This “quasi-inventio” and accompanying elevatio ceremony were contemporary with reconstructions of the cathedral and an eight-day candlelit procession around the city.453 Even the location of the new cathedral, which stood at the very center of the city, represented the important role of the archbishop during the early twelfth century.454

The renewed attention to these episcopal cults as well as the very public display of episcopal authority led Thomas Kelly to suggest that this initially occurred at the expense of Santa Sofia’s centrality in Benevento. Since Santa Sofia had been so closely linked to the Lombard princely authority, which had contracted during the tenth century, the abbey may also have drifted from the prominent position it once held during the height of Lombard princely power in Benevento. Kelly has argued that, “as the political power of the capital waned that of the church increased.”455 Here, the relics housed in Santa Sofia represented “the eighth century patrons of the Lombard principality” while the historic episcopal saints, to whom renewed attention was paid especially during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, depicted the archbishop as a central point of ecclesiastical authority within the city of Benevento.456 Through these narratives, the archbishop of Benevento represented continuity in the face of disruption, especially after the

Felix, Cervolus, and Stephen the Levite. For more, see Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 70-2. According to Oldfield, these old cults, associated with the Lombard era, were revived in the twelfth century to signal the renewal of episcopal authority in the face of predatory local and regional authorities, like the Normans. 451 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 72-3; Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,” 230-1. 452 Falco of Benevento, Chronicon Beneventanum, 48-9: “Quis unquam civium tempore isto viventium sic prorsus civitatem letari potuerit recordari? Credo vero sub beati apostoli Bartholomei, patroni civitatis, adventum ita proprus gaudio magno civitatem impletam fuisse.” 453 Falco of Benevento, Chronicon Beneventanum, 104-6; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 73. 454 Loud, “Politics and Piety,” 285. 455 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 28. 456 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 29. 126

Lombard princes were no longer in power.457 In contrast, according to Kelly, Santa Sofia represented an old regime, one that had ceased to be as central to Beneventan identity. While the abbey appears to have had a cooperative working relationship with the Beneventan cathedral throughout the eleventh and twelfth centuries (it even produced liturgical manuscripts for use in the cathedral), the promotion of episcopal saints may have contributed to a level of competition between the two institutions.

The third context in which Santa Sofia turned to its history as a way to affirm its status was within a conflict with the monastery of Montecassino.458 We have discussed how the abbey of Santa Sofia asserted its independence through its relationship with the Lombard princes and its bond with Rome. However, as early as the ninth century, the abbots of Montecassino claimed alternately that Santa Sofia belonged to their monastery. Montecassino’s claims were, in part, based on a passage written by the ninth-century historian Erchempert. In his Historia Langobardorum, Erchempert recalled that Arichis II had founded the female convent of Santa

Sofia and placed it forever under the authority of the Cassinese monks.459 While the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae does not mention that Arichis II placed his convent under Montecassino, perhaps in deliberate silence, it does indicate that Montecassino appointed provosts to the convent during the ninth century.460 Further, Abbots Bassacius (837-857) and Bertarius (856-

863) of Montecassino had built an oratory dedicated to St Benedict in Santa Sofia.461 Given this evidence, it seems that Santa Sofia indeed was under the authority of Montecassino, at least for a

457 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 73-4. Oldfield’s arguments regarding the rise of episcopal authority in Benevento during the eleventh and twelfth centuries are similar to Kelly’s. However, Oldfield does not emphasize to the same extent the distinction between the influence of the abbey of Santa Sofia and the archdiocese of Benevento as separate sources of ecclesiastical authority in Benevento. 458 For more, see Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 32-7; Loud, 279-81; Martin, “La storia di S. Sofia,” in CSS, 1:45-63. 459 Erchempert, Historia Langobardorum Beneventum, ed. Waitz, in MGH SRLI, 237. For the earliest documents recording the foundation of the convent of Santa Sofia see the Liber Praeceptorum in the CSS, 1:279-80, which does not include any mention of Montecassino; For its dependence on Montecassino, see Chron. Cas., bk. 1, ch. 9, p. 37 where Leo wrote: “cum omnibus omnino pertinentiis et possessionibus eius, id sub iure beati Benedicti in monte Casino tradidit in perpetuum permansurum.” Leo also asserted that Charlemagne confirmed Montecassino’s authority over Santa Sofia, but the early date of the charter attesting to this confirmation has been debunked as a later forgery of Peter the Deacon. See, Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 33-4. 460 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 34, n. 194. Kelly notes the addition to the annals in the CSS under 878 of “Hoc tempore erat Criscius prepositus.” Criscius also appears in the Chron. Cas. in the following passage: “Per hos etiam dies Radelchis princeps Beneventanus rogatus a Criscio preposito sanctae Sophiae per preceptum concessit huic monasterio totam omnino substantiam Potonus cuiusdam nobilis…” See Chron. Cas., bk.1, ch. 39, p. 108. It is unclear from either source, the CSS and the Chron. Cas., if Criscius was a monk of Montecassino. 461 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 34. 127

time during the ninth century. Despite this, Santa Sofia went on to ardently refute this relationship.

Montecassino’s claims to Santa Sofia did not seem to warrant a strong response from Santa Sofia until the tenth and eleventh centuries. This is probably because during the late ninth century the monks of Montecassino lived in exile in Teano and Capua after their monastery was sacked by

Arab invaders in 883.462 After their exile and the loss of land and wealth that accompanied the upheavals of the ninth and tenth centuries, the abbots of Montecassino made a concerted effort to reclaim their monastery’s former possessions, including the abbey of Santa Sofia.463 Montecassino’s attempts in the tenth century were met with little success. In 945, for example, Abbot Magelpotus of Montecassino was made to confer independence to Abbot Ursus of Santa Sofia in the presence of Lombard princes Landulf II and Pandulf I. Despite the evidence presented by Montecassino in this case, the judges decided that since the monastery had not claimed superiority over Santa Sofia since it was sacked in 883, its claims had become null and void.464

Later on in the eleventh century, as the allies of the Gregorian reform papacy and with the decline of the Lombard princely line and the protection it offered Santa Sofia, the abbots of Montecassino found new momentum in their claims over the abbey. To make matters more complicated, at this stage Santa Sofia and Montecassino were closely linked through shared personnel. For instance, Desiderius, the abbot of Montecassino from 1058 until 1087, had previously been a monk of Santa Sofia and later became Pope Victor III.465 Despite these factors, each further attempt made by Montecassino to assert Santa Sofia’s subordination failed. This failure was, in large part, a result of Santa Sofia’s ability to gain papal and imperial

462 For the Saracen invasions of the late ninth century and the impact on Montecassino see Leo Marsicanus, Chron. Cas., bk. 2. Leo wrote that in the time of Abbot Bertharius (801-884), not only the monastery but also the surrounding region was so devastated by the invasions that it was uninhabitable and remained so for sixty-seven years: “per septem et sexaginta circiter annos usque ad se, neglectus ac destitutus, et quasi desolatus penitus fuerat.” See also, Kreutz, Before the Normans, 53-4. On the seizure of the abbey’s property during the early years of the Norman conquests, especially as they were employed by Pandulf IV, see specifically the passages in Chron. Cas., bk. 2, ch. 57, pp. 277- 8. On the qualifications to stories of Norman invasions in monastic chronicles, see Loud, Latin Church, 66-7. Bloch argued that Montecassino’s interest in reclaiming the abbey stemmed from the conversion of Santa Sofia from a female to a male monastery in the mid tenth century. Bloch, Montecassino in the Middle Ages, 1:269 463 Loud, “Lombard abbey,” 279. 464 Galasso, “Caratteri paleografici e diplomatici,” 316; Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 35. 465 Bloch, Montecassino, 1:269-70 and Chron. Cas., bk. 3, chs. 5-6, pp. 366-7. 128

confirmations of its perceived historic independence after its conversion from a female to a male monastic community. In 1022, Santa Sofia’s independent status was again confirmed by Pope

Benedict VIII and Emperor Henry II.466 In 1052, Pope Leo IX likewise confirmed that Santa Sofia owed allegiance only to the papacy and that it should remain freed from any submission to

Montecassino.467

In the late eleventh century, Montecassino’s chronicler, Leo Marsicanus, was among the most outspoken in the efforts to assert authority over Santa Sofia. Leo raised the issue during the

Lenten synod of 1078 and then later in 1089 at the Synod of Melfi.468 The efforts of Montecassino to claim Santa Sofia as a dependent continued throughout the late eleventh century and into the early twelfth century, including two failed attempts made at papal in 1113 and 1116.469 As Amy Remensnyder has shown for the monasteries of southern France between the tenth and twelfth centuries, the impulse to return to the legends of the past was one way to undo the claims of other (unwanted) monastic lordships. In the case of Santa Sofia, the sources from the eleventh and twelfth centuries that retold the past of the abbey, denied the abbey’s connection to Montecassino through their silence.470 By emphasizing only the patronage of Lombard princes and, later on, popes and emperors, Santa Sofia defended its integrity from Montecassino.

The fourth factor that contributed to Santa Sofia’s desire to recall its past in writing was the rise of the Norman lords in southern Italy during the eleventh and early twelfth centuries. During this period, the Norman lords considerably strengthened their authority around Benevento. While the city of Benevento itself was never conquered by the Normans, it was not immune from the changes brought by their increasing power. For example, a Beneventan noble named Madelfridus

466 CSS, 2:616-8. 467 CSS, 2:620-3; Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 36. 468 For Leo’s claim at the Lenten synod of 1078, see Chron. Cas., bk. 3.42, p. 420: “Per idem tempus supradicto papa Gregorio Rome sinodum celebrante Leo huius loci bibliothecarius, qui post Ostiensis episcopus factus est, ex iussione patris Desiderii proclamationem fecit de cella sancte Sophie in Benevento, quam nuper Beneventani a dicione huius cenobii violenter abstraxerant. Cumque ad placitum res perducta fuisset, relicta sunt in omnium audientia nostra munimina, qualiter Arichis princeps eiusdem ecclesie constructor illam per perceptum huic cenobio Casinensi tradiderit, demum vero qualiter omnes Romani pontifices, imperatores, reges duces ac principes predictam cellam in hoc loco confirmaverant.” See Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 279, Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 32-7, and Martin’s introduction in CSS, 1:47-78. 469 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 280. 470 Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 260. 129

was killed fighting the Normans in 1040 and was later buried in Santa Sofia, venerated as a local hero.471 In 1077, the Norman duke, Robert Guiscard, laid siege to Benevento but was unable to conquer the city.472 The twelfth-century chronicler, Falco of Benevento, recorded that in 1113 Benevento was still besieged daily by the Norman incursions. He calls the neighboring Norman lords, Robert of Caiazzo and Jordan of Ariano, villainous in comparison to the virtuous native

Beneventan comestabulus.473 Adding to this tension, some Beneventans owned land in territories that had fallen to the Normans and therefore owed dues to them.474

While the Normans of southern Italy utilized warfare in an attempt to subdue the Beneventans, the Norman lords also turned to the city’s religious institutions as a way to extend their authority throughout the region surrounding Benevento. As the most prominent monastic institution within Benevento, Santa Sofia benefited greatly from the donations of the Norman lords, especially the dukes of Apulia, the counts of Boiano, and the counts of Ariano.475 Between 1060 and 1130, Santa Sofia expanded its possessions within and around Benevento but also outside of the city, especially in the territory of Molise, Ariano, and in parts of northern Apulia. For Santa Sofia, the donations of the Norman lords replenished its wealth, which had declined during the tenth and early eleventh century, as mentioned above. Particularly valuable to the monastery were the donations of castella, or fortified towns with tenants and fiscal rights.476 The Norman lords, in the process of consolidating power throughout southern Italy, granted this type of property to Santa Sofia. The regional temporal authorities who granted gifts to ecclesiastical communities did so, ostensibly, for the good of their souls. At the same time, these donations demonstrated to the authorities’ competitors a broad political reach and alliances with the Church.477 In addition to castella, Santa Sofia received churches from the Norman lords who, in response to the Gregorian views on privately owned churches, granted their institutions to the larger monasteries of southern Italy.478 The pious donations of the Norman lords might explain the reaction to the Norman invasions in the Annales of the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae. Contrary to the more

471 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 276. 472 Loud, “Lombard Abey,” 276; CSS, 1:246. 473 Falco of Benevento, Chronicon Beneventanum, 6-10 474 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 277. 475 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 286. 476 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 282. 477 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 286. 478 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 286. 130

inflammatory response of Falco, the abbey’s Annales mention the Norman invaders with little judgement, even during such decisive and potentially threatening moments as when Robert

Guiscard besieged the city.479

The presence of the Norman lords in southern Italy not only benefited Santa Sofia but, as we will see, encouraged it to assert its claims over long-held territories. The Normans, while donating generously to monastic communities like Santa Sofia, also at times appointed their own bishops in key territories. This appointment of bishops, while not widespread, accompanied the growth and spread of Norman authority, for which regional ecclesiastical leadership was an important tool to consolidate networks of power.480 The relationship between Santa Sofia and these newly- appointed ecclesiastical authorities in the regions surrounding Benevento illuminates the complex interactions between native monasteries and the new Norman leadership, which brought great changes to the ecclesiastical landscape throughout southern Italy. At times, this relationship led to conflicts over jurisdiction in which the abbey resorted to its historical privileges and status in order to fend off the ambitions of new bishops. We will see that in at least one case, Santa Sofia dealt with the competing claims of a Normanno-French bishop over a church that historically had been granted to the abbey. In this trial, as in the other contexts discussed above, the abbey utilized its saints and its past royal patrons as a tool in the effort to articulate its authority.

In response to these challenges, the abbey of Santa Sofia turned to its own past in order to support its position in Benevento. Two sources in particular capture this effort: the Translatio S. Mercurii and the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae. Although they originate from the same institution and were both modes of recalling the past of the abbey, the Translatio and the Chronicon have not been studied in tandem. In the pages that follow, we will see that the intersections between the Translatio and the abbey’s chronicle offer new interpretive contexts for the efforts of creatively remembering the past in the abbey of Santa Sofia.

479 CSS, 1:246. 480 Loud, The Latin Church, 119. 131

Content of the Translatio S. Mercurii

The content of the prose Translatio relates directly to Santa Sofia’s role in the development of Mercurius’ cult during the late eleventh and early twelfth century. The Translatio recalls that the body of St Mercurius arrived in Italy in the 660s. Byzantine Emperor Constans II was in the middle of a campaign to secure southern Italy from the Lombards. On the way to Benevento, he gathered an army from Byzantium and the relics of a few saints, including those of Mercurius.481 The story recalls that after the destruction of the town of Quintodecimo, Emperor Constans set out for Benevento, leaving Mercurius’ relics behind.482 Three monks had been placed in charge of guarding the remains. In a dream, Mercurius appeared to the monks, ordering them to construct a basilica in his honor, which renewed the hope of the few remaining citizens there.483 However, Mercurius’ relics lay neglected in the church for ninety-five years until the reign of Arichis II in the late eighth century.

According to the legend, after Arichis II had completed construction on the monastery of Santa Sofia and collected the relics of the Twelve Holy Brothers, he was struck by divine inspiration to seek out the body of Mercurius.484 Prince Arichis and the bishop (praesul) of Benevento came to Quintodecimo where they were met by a large crowd of citizens and nobles. The prince and the bishop took up their shovels and were the first to break ground in the search for the relics. Soon, the entire community, young and old, joined Arichis and his bishop. The entire day passed, the earth was torn apart, but there was no sign of the saint’s tomb. Arichis spent the night in vigil, beseeching each of his men that they continue to pray for success. Meanwhile, Mercurius appeared to the bishop in a vision and encouraged him to continue the search. The following morning, the tomb was unearthed and Arichis set out for Benevento with the bishop, who carried the relics on his shoulders. Upon crossing the bridge that led to Benevento, the party was unable

481 Mercurius’ cult originated in Caesarea, in Cappadocia, where he was martyred. There is a missing prologue in the version of the Translatio edited by Waitz. For the content of the prologue, I rely on Giovardi’s edition. Giovardi, ed., Acta, 55-62, at 55: “Itaque prephatus Augustus exterminaturus armis, ut dictum est, in Italia Langobardos, robustissimi athleti Christ Mercurii, juxta predecessorum consuetudinem, reverendum corpus assimit cum trium sanctorum aliorum reliquiis.” 482 Giovardi, ed., Acta, 56: “Tandem expugnavit eam, ac moenibus dirutis humiliavit ad velle.” 483 Giovardi, ed., Acta, 58: “Fratres illi, gloriosi Martyris revelatione et commonitione instructi, beati Mercurii nomini Ecclesiam construxerunt, residuis civibus Quintodecimi desolate opem illis pro posse prestantibus in hoc opus pro suorum, scilicet, animabus belli certamine peremptorum.” 484 Waitz, ed., Translatio S. Mercurii, 577: “divino instigatus oraculo.” 132

to enter within the city walls. The nobilis hero, Prince Arichis, removed his royal robes and prostrated himself before the body of the saint. Arichis promised Mercurius the keys to the city and many gifts, adding finally that he would place his relics within the altar of Santa Sofia. It was only when Arichis promised to establish feast days in honor of Mercurius as Santa Sofia’s new primary saint, that Mercurius allowed entry into the city.485 At last, the bishop, the prince, the clergy, and the entire crowd entered Benevento and enshrined Mercurius’ relics within an altar of Santa Sofia for the protection and honor of the city.486 According to the text, Mercurius’ relics were translated to Benevento sometime in the year 768.487

Although this story details the events of the late eighth century, several clues on the surface of the text may point to the influence of a later author. These clues also suggest that in the late eleventh and early twelfth century, the Translatio addressed the concerns of a contemporary audience, rather than primarily reflecting the circumstances of the eighth century. There are obvious hints, like the use of the past tense throughout the text, and the title princeps when referring to Arichis, which suggests at the very least that the text was composed after the late eighth century when Arichis took the title of prince.488 Further, the author does not mention at

485 Waitz, ed., Translatio S. Mercurii, 577: “Etiam sub protestatione adiecit, quod in basilica, ad quam vehendus erat, altare ipsius, hoc ei privilegio dignitatis, sicut ecclesiis principalibus consuevit, impenso, ut festis precipuis in missarum aliorumve officiorum, que sibi queque prout est poscit solemnitas, celebrationibus devotius et specialius asstendo, inter cetera principalius esset habendum.” 486 Here is an amusing discrepancy between the two prose accounts. The account edited by Waitz (from BC 1) goes on saying that while Mercurius’ relics were buried near the relics of the Twelve Holy Brothers, Mercurius’ relics were to be held as the most prominent in the monastery. The later extant version, edited by Giovardi (Veroli, Biblioteca Giovardiana 1) recounts that Mercurius refused to enter the city walls until Arichis promised his relics a more prominent position in the church, specifically more prominent than the altar of the Twelve Holy Brothers. Wood takes this variation as evidence of a local clash over patron saints that had emerged by the thirteenth century. See Wood, ‘Giovardi,” 206. The change can also be attested to the fact that between the late eleventh and thirteenth century, Mercurius’ cult surpassed that of the Twelve Holy Brothers. 487 This date was contested by Giovardi who places the translation in 774. See Giovardi, ed. Acta, 50. Wood argues that if Giovardi is correct, then the translation would have coincided with Charlemagne’s presence in Italy and thus may have been intended as a message to the Frankish king, assuming that the text was composed originally in the eighth century. 488 On Arichis II taking the title princeps, see Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 10; E. Garms-Cornides, “Die langobardische Fürstentitel (774-1077),” in Intitulatio II: Lateinische Herrscher- und Fürstentitel im neunten und zehnten Jahrhundert, eds. K. Brunner, A. Scharer, and H. Wolfram (Wien: Hermann Böhlau, 1975), 359; Bertolini, “Carlomagno e Benevento,” 616; de Stefano, “Il Principe Arichi,” 25. Bertolini and Stefano argue that Arichis took the title princeps specifically in opposition to Charlemagne’s title of Rex Francorum et Langobardorum et patricius Romanorum. 133

any point being a contemporary, or near contemporary, of the events he describes.489 Instead, the text is reliant on terminology like in diebus eius. The focus on the liturgical celebrations for St Mercurius, while possibly referring to an early (now lost) Beneventan mass for Mercurius, may also correlate to the liturgy of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, when Mercurius appeared consistently in Santa Sofian liturgical calendars five times per year. Among these liturgical sources, of course, is the lectionary that contains the earliest extant version of the Translatio, BC 1. This is all to say that the material evidence for the cult of St Mercurius dates primarily to the late eleventh and twelfth century. Some scholarship on the cult of St Mercurius has acknowledged the discrepancy in dating between the extant sources and the contents of the Translatio, which recalls the events of the eighth century. Scholars like Wood and Vuolo have noted the methodological pitfalls of relying on these sources as accurate witnesses to the eighth- century past.490 Still, other work has used the Translatio to corroborate historical attributes of Beneventan culture under Arichis II’s rule, maintaining that the hagiography is in keeping with other evidence related to the eighth century in Benevento and therefore can be used to study early-medieval Benevento.491 However ancient the cult of St Mercurius may or may not be, the eleventh- or twelfth-century purposes for which it was created or copied or edited (from an earlier extant work) is what matters because that is the period to which the material evidence, the manuscripts, dates.

Rewriting Memory through Inventio: The Sources and Dating of the Cult of St Mercurius and the Translatio S. Mercurii

The dating, origins, and provenance (where possible) of the scattered sources for the cult of St Mercurius show the development of his cult in Santa Sofia. In the following pages, I present questions surrounding the dating of the Translatio as well as the extant liturgical sources that

489 This is noted in Vuolo, “Agiografia Beneventana,” 207. In addition to this, mention of the Vita Barbati, composed between the ninth and tenth centuries, in the Veroli manuscript provides a terminus post quem of at least the ninth century for that version of the Translatio. See Wood, “Giovardi,” 205. The Vita Barbati is not mentioned in the version held in Benevento, BC 1. 490 Wood, “Giovardi,” 199-202; Vuolo, “Agiografia Beneventana,” 207. 491 See, among others, Belting, “Studien,”156-64; Antonio Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,” 202-13; Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento,” 299-300; D’Angelo, “Agiografia latina,” 48-9; Luongo, “Alla ricerca del sacro: Le traslazioni dei santi in epoca altomedievale,” 17-39; Bozóky, La politique des reliques, 131-2; Harrison,“The Duke and the Archangel,” 21-2; Galdi, “Identità e pluralità,” 100-3. 134

demonstrate an interest in his cult in Benevento.

While the Translatio S. Mercurii recounts how the discovery and translation of St Mercurius took place in the eighth century, the earliest extant version of this source dates probably to the twelfth century.492 Of course, a lack of contemporary sources does not preclude the actual occurrence of a discovery and translation of Mercurius sometime in the eighth century, or that an original version of the Translatio was composed at an earlier date. Several scholars have assumed or argued that this is so and thus research on the Translatio has traditionally focused on its depiction of Arichis II’s piety and the significance of relic discovery in the consolidation of power in the early years of the Lombard Principality.493 The Translatio S. Mercurii has been a useful tool for scholars reconstructing Arichis II’s use of relics, his relationship with the Church, and his alignment with Byzantine expressions of authority and military endeavors.494 The content of the Translatio and Mercurius’ identity as a Byzantine warrior saint correlate to other characteristics of Arichis’ reign. In addition to Byzantine saints like the Twelve Holy Brothers and Mercurius, Arichis was drawn to the models of the Byzantine world elsewhere in his political programs. For instance, some scholars have long held that Arichis based the construction of Santa Sofia on Justinian’s Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, as previously mentioned.495 There is even reason to believe that Arichis was personally devoted to St Mercurius since a prose Passio S. Mercurii has been attributed to Arichis, but there are questions surrounding his authorship of the passio.496 Similarly, a verse Translatio S. Mercurii was

492 In fact, the earliest mention of the translation, which can dated with certainty, is found in the late eleventh-century chronicle of Montecassino: Chron. Cas., bk. 1, ch. 9, pg. 38: “Postmodum vero corpus pretiosi martyris Mercurii, necnon et aliorum tam martyrum quam confessorum a numero triginta et unum sancta corpora ex diversis partibus per tempora diversa indeptus, ibidem nihilominus attulit, et per diversa altaria in circuitu maioris altaris satis reverenter locavit.” 493 Bozóky, La Politique des reliques, 131; Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,” 208-9; Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche,” 299-300; Galdi, “identità e pluralità,” 99-102; Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery,” 183; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 202-3. Anderson brings up the problems with dating the material on Mercurius to the eighth century. Similarly, Wood’s 2010 article on the Veroli manuscript explores the cult’s development especially in the thirteenth century. 494 For example, Harrison, “The Duke and the Archangel,” 21-2 focuses on Arichis’ piety; on the other hand, Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche,” 299-300 sees the Translatio S. Mercurii as celebration of the military achievement of the Lombards. 495 On Arichis’ affinity for Byzantine models see Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 10; Garms-Cornides, “Die langobardische Fürstentitel (774-1077),” 359; Bertolini, “Carlomagno e Benevento,” 616; A. de Stefano, “Il principe Arechi e le leggende agiografiche beneventane,” Rivista Storica del Sannio 2 (1916): 192. See also Krautheimer, “Introduction to an ‘Iconography of medieval Architecture,’” 2. 496 On Arichis’ authorship of the passio, see Giovardi, Acta, 9-31; Wood, “Giovardi,” 204-8; Belting, “Studien,” 169-

135

attributed to Paul the Deacon (d. 799), the court poet during Arichis II’s reign. However, like the prose Passio S. Mercurii, scholars have also questioned the traditional claims that Paul the

Deacon composed the verse Translatio.497 Indeed, the manuscript tradition for this verse translatio is also very late. It survives only in a seventeenth-century codex, which has contributed to the challenges of dating this source.498

A lack of extant contemporary sources is typical for hagiographical sources from the Lombard period in southern Italy, including the Translatio duodecim fratrum, which survives only in eleventh- and twelfth-century versions.499 Despite the lack of any eighth-century manuscripts holding the Translatio duodecim fratrum, the survival of a Beneventan mass and music for the Twelve Holy Brothers points to the existence of their cult in Benevento as early as the eighth

75; Gay, L’Italie méridionale, 1:47. De Stefano dated the passio to three or four centuries after Arichis’ reign. See de Stefano,“Il principe Arechi,” 192-3. The passio only exists in the thirteenth-century Veroli, Biblioteca Giovardiana 1. For sixth-century Greek texts related to Mercurius, see Binon, Documents grecs, 8-18. Wood notes that Arichis composed this passio in order to explain how Mercurius’ relics came to Italy, since in the Greek tradition, Mercurius was executed in Caesarea. While martyrs’ passiones had been popular in the Byzantine East since Late Antiquity, gesta martyrum dedicated to the Roman martyrs were composed with regularity in the West by the late eighth century. For more on this, see A. Dufourcq, Les légendes grecques et les légendes latines, vol. 5 in Étude sur les Gesta martyrum romaines Bibliothèque des écoles françaises d'Athènes et de Rome 83, (Paris: De Boccard, 1988); A. Thacker, “In Search of the Saints: The English Church and the Cult of Roman Apostles and Martyrs in the Seventh and Eighth Centuries,” in Early Medieval Rome and the Christian West: essays in honour of Donald A. Bullough, ed. Julia Smith (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 253-4. If Arichis composed the passio, he may have based it upon an earlier Greek source dedicated to Mercurius, although it has since been lost. The cult of Mercurius in Caesarea dates back to the fourth or fifth century. There is debate over the date of a Greek passio S. Mercurii. See, M. Detoraki, “Greek Passions of the Martyrs in Byzantium,” in The Ashgate Research Companion to Byzantine Hagiography, ed. Stephanos Efthymiadis (Surrey: Ashgate, 2014), 2: 61-102. Detoraki dates the Coptic passio of Mercurius to the late-antique period, which would predate Arichis’ version but see also Delehaye, on the Byzantine hagiographical tradition of Mercurius, Les légendes grecques des saints militaires, 234-42; and Binon, Documents grecs inédits. For Mercurius’ Coptic passio see T. Orlandi, Passione e miracoli di S. Mercurio; Godron, “À propos d’un récent ouvrage concernant saint Mercure,” 213-23. For more on the genre of epic passiones see Delehaye, Les Passions des martyrs et les genres littéraires, Studia hagiographica 13b (Brussels: Société des Bollandistes, 1966). 497 For a more extensive discussion of this see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 202, esp. n. 664. For more on Paul’s poem, see Galdi, “Identità e pluralità,” 101, n.27. Here, Galdi argues for the authenticity of the attribution. The following scholarship also supports Paul the Deacon’s authorship of the poem: Gay, L'Italie méridionale, 1:47; Wood, “Giovardi,” 205. However, as noted by Anderson, the most pressing concern for this argument is the lack of stylistic similarities between the verse translatio and Paul the Deacon’s other works. For this reason, among others, scholarship on the debate does not support Paul the Deacon’s authorship of the poem. See also E. Dümmler, “Die handschriftliche Überlieferung der lateinischen Dichtungen aus der Zeit der Karolinger,” in Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft für ältere Deutsche Geschichtskunde (Hannover: Hahn, 1878), 89-159. 498 “Paul the Deacon”’s hymn is held in the 1647 manuscript by Petrus Pipernus, De affectibus magicis libri sex ac De nuce maga Beneventana liber unicus (Naples, 1647), 147. 499 For instance, Vuolo, “Agiografia Beneventana,” 206-7: “In realtà ciò è confermato tanto dalla cronaca, composta- -com'è nota-- tra l’XI e il XII secolo, quanto dalle due translationes. In esse, infatti, non si riscontrano elementi tali da indicare i singoli autori quali testimoni oculari delle cerimonie.” Vuolo goes on to note that it is not improbable that as it exists, the Translatio S. Mercurii is the copy of an earlier original. See also Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 202, n.664. 136

century, as summarized in table 1 below.500 As discussed earlier in this dissertation, the Beneventan liturgical rite was a regional liturgy (and accompanying script) that developed under the Lombards before the spread of the Gregorian liturgy, possibly as early as the seventh century.501 The saints cults that flourished under the Lombard rulers of Benevento were promoted, in part, through the codification and circulation of the Beneventan liturgy. Because of this, the extant evidence for the Beneventan rite is an important window into the saints cults that flourished in early medieval southern Italy, especially Benevento, under the Lombards.

Unlike the Twelve Holy Brothers, Mercurius’ feast day is curiously absent in extant Beneventan liturgical material as well as material from the Gregorian liturgy made in Santa Sofia from before the late eleventh century. For example, BC 38 is a gradual composed in the early eleventh century in Santa Sofia for the nunnery of San Pietro intra muros in Benevento. This manuscript combines elements of both the Beneventan and Gregorian liturgies. While the feast of the Twelve Holy Brothers is present, the feast of St Mercurius does not appear in BC 38. There is also no mention of St Mercurius in BC 40, an early eleventh-century gradual, written at Santa

Sofia for an unknown institution.502 Notably, BC 40 includes a mass in the Beneventan rite for the Twelve Holy Brothers. St Mercurius’ feast is likewise missing in BC 39, an eleventh-century gradual, written at Santa Sofia also for the monastery of San Pietro intra muros. Again, the feast of the Twelve Holy Brothers appears in BC 39 whereas there is no celebration for St

Mercurius.503 Since the feast of the Twelve Holy Brothers appears in these manuscripts along with a Beneventan ingressa in BC 40, one might also expect a mass for St Mercurius, Beneventan or Gregorian, to also have been included in these manuscripts, since these saints were so closely linked in the legends of Santa Sofia’s past. Both were saints whose relics were collected by Arichis II; both cults emerged, to borrow a phrase from Kelly, as a form of

“religious nationalism,” under the first Lombard prince of Benevento.504

500 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 11-2. 501 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 7-8. 502 BC 38 and 40 give the clearest picture of the Beneventan mass in its heyday. For more on these see Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 65-79. 503 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 72. 504 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 11. 137

Table 1 Feasts of Mercurius and Twelve Holy Brothers in manuscripts attributed to Santa Sofia.

Manuscripts BC 38 (xi1) BC 39 (xi) BC 40 (xi1) BC 37 (xi2) BC 29 (xii) associated with Santa Sofia’s scriptorium

Feast of St — — — Sci. Mercurii Mercurius Sepultus mart. (fol. (Nov. 25) extat beatus 281) Mercurius… (fol. 8v)

Translatio Feast of the — — — Translatio s. rubricked with translatio of Mercurii in sanctae Mercurius mart. in s. sophia (Aug. 26) Sophiae (fol. 7)

Feast of Kl. sept. Kl. sept. Nat. Kl. sept. Nat. Horum Scorum Twelve Holy Nat. XII scorum XIIim precibus Duodecim Brothers (Sept. Fratrum, Duodecim Fratrum, operabatur Fratrum (fol. 1) (fol.129v) fratrum…(fol ingressa deus 270va) . 157r) (Beneventan mirabilia... mass for the Twelve Brothers, fol. 121v)

Feast of the — — — — — translatio of the Twelve Holy Brothers (May 15)505

Several factors may have contributed to a lack of early liturgical sources on Mercurius. First, it is possible that Mercurius simply did not have a large cult in early medieval Benevento or that other saints translated to Benevento, like St Bartholomew, eclipsed Mercurius’ cult in the Beneventan liturgy. Second, it is possible that the early Beneventan liturgical material related to

505 The feasts of the Twelve Holy Brothers are scattered across the various feast days of individual saints within the duodecim fratrum. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les Manuscrits, 3:1514, n.3, 6, and 8. 138

St Mercurius was lost or did not exist as a result of the transition from the Beneventan to the Gregorian rite during the late eleventh century throughout southern Italy. Beginning in the ninth and tenth centuries, the power of Benevento as a central hub of cultural and political power weakened as Lombard authority retracted. Simultaneously, the significance and influence of the Roman Church grew. These factors, according to Kelly, contributed to the decline in the

Beneventan liturgy and the increase in the use of the Gregorian rite throughout southern Italy.506 Yet, even as this transition took place, Beneventan masses and elements of the Beneventan liturgy were preserved beyond the eleventh century. Beneventan antiphons for the Twelve Holy

Brothers, for example, exist from the twelfth century.507 By the late eleventh century, as the Beneventan liturgy was mostly phased out in favor of the Gregorian liturgy both in Montecassino and the Beneventan region in general, so too did many manuscripts containing the Beneventan liturgy become obsolete, including (perhaps) those which contained a Beneventan mass for St

Mercurius at Santa Sofia.508 The Beneventan rite was a product of the early Lombard period in Benevento and aided in the expression of Lombard piety and power. The eighth-century Beneventan mass for the Twelve Holy Brothers, for instance, reminded the faithful of the divine blessings that their prince had received since he was able to translate the sacred remains to his political capital.509 A similar sentiment may have been expressed in a Beneventan liturgy of Mercurius, had any survived or existed.

While Mercurius’ celebration was missing in early eleventh-century liturgical sources written in Santa Sofia, his feast appears (reappears?) in manuscripts from the later eleventh and twelfth century and his local office only exists in Gregorian style. A few of the manuscripts containing the feast of St Mercurius were also written in Santa Sofia for the Beneventan female community of San Pietro intra muros. These manuscripts require our attention briefly. San Pietro intra muros was a nunnery within the city walls of Benevento, founded by Duke Liutprand in 751-8

506 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 25. 507 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 73. For example, BC 21 includes an antiphon for the Twelve Brothers in Beneventan style. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les Manuscrits, 2:73. 508 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 30-40. 509 Gyug, “Du rite bénéventain à l’usage de Bénévent,” in La cathédrale de Bénévent, ed. Kelly (Ghent: Ludion/Flammarion, 1999), 88. 139

and granted privileges by Pandulf I (961-81).510 It was a community for high-ranking individuals, such as the great-aunt of the Abbot Desiderius of Montecassino, Altruda. Santa Sofia is thought to have provided all of the surviving Beneventan manuscripts used in San Pietro intra muros from between the early eleventh and late twelfth century, a point to which we will return later.511 Manuscripts in which Mercurius’ feast appears include BC 37, which holds responsories, hymns, litanies, and a martyrology-necrology and was composed in the late eleventh or early twelfth century in Santa Sofia for San Pietro intra muros. In BC 37, there are processional responses for the feast of Mercurius’ passio (Nov. 25) in the processional and the feasts of his passio and translatio are in the martyrology.512 BC 29 is a missal from the twelfth century, likewise written in Santa Sofia for San Pietro intra muros. In this manuscript, there are the feasts of the passio, the dedicatio altaris, and the feast of the translatio for St Mercurius (table 1).513 BC 66, a late twelfth-century office book containing a temporale and sanctorale, was also made by Santa Sofia for San Pietro sometime after 1173.514 It too contains lessons for the Twelve Holy

Brothers and St Mercurius.515

Further evidence for the liturgy of St Mercurius appears in two twelfth-century martyrologies written in Santa Sofia. In these, Mercurius is celebrated with not one but five feast days. The martyrology in Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale, VI E 43 is an ordinal from the late eleventh century, written in Santa Sofia possibly for the abbey or a dependent monastery. Biblioteca Nazionale, VI E 43 includes an extensive office for St Mercurius, with twelve responsories, and a calendar with five feast days for the saint:516 the Passio S. Mercurii with vigil and octave on 25

510 Desiderius, Dialogues, in MGH Scriptores 30.2, eds., G. Schwartz and A. Hofmeister, (Leipzig: Karoli Hiersemann, 1934), bk. 3, 9-10. For more information on San Pietro intra muros and the other Beneventan nunnery dedicated to St Peter, San Pietro extra muros see the notes section in A. Planchart, ed. Beneventanum Troporum Corpus I: Tropes of the Proper of the Mass from Southern Italy, A.D. 1000-1250 (Madison: A-R Editions, 1994), xxxix, n. 48. 511 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 684. 512 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:199 513 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 3:1513; Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 72. 514 The date is based on the appearance of a liturgy for St Thomas Becket. It is clear that the manuscript was made in Santa Sofia not only because it includes masses for Santa Sofian saints but also because it includes the feast for the dedication of Santa Sofia (February 17). See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:297. 515 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:292. 516 The attention to Mercurius in the twelfth century, versus the almost complete lack of sources dated to an earlier period led Kelly to the conclusion that the music for St Mercurius was a twelfth-century creation. See The Beneventan Chant, 72, n.50. Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale, VI E 43 (saec. xi/xii) is dated to between 1099 and 1118 on the basis of its paleographical and codicological characteristics and references to historical contexts. This manuscript, in

140

November, the feast of the dedication of Mercurius’ altar in Santa Sofia on 18 August, and the feast of his translation on 26 August. Similarly, Vat. lat. 4928, a collectarium from the twelfth century, written in Santa Sofia possibly for the abbey, also includes these five feast days.517 Additional material is found in London, , Additional MS. 23776, 3r-34r, a martyrology from the twelfth century written in Santa Sofia possibly for use in Santa Sofia. This martyrology includes the feast of the passio and the dedicatio altaris, but there is damage where the feast of the Translatio S. Mercurii ought to be, making the rubric illegible.518

In addition to calendars, there are two recensions of the prose Translatio that survive from around this period in monastic lectionaries. The earliest extant prose version of the Translatio dates to the twelfth century. It is preserved in the monastic lectionary BC 1, fols. 67ra-69rb.519 We will return to BC 1 momentarily. A later prose version of the Translatio survives in Veroli, Biblioteca Giovardiana 1, fols. 15r-21v (thirteenth century). The Veroli manuscript was commissioned by Abbot Mattheus of Santa Sofia during the second or third decades of the thirteenth century. It is made up of sources that date to between 1058 and the middle of the twelfth century. These sources pertain exclusively to the cults of Mercurius and the Twelve Holy Brothers. Wood argued that the Veroli manuscript’s focus on these saints in the thirteenth century was meant to deliberately reflect the relationship between the Church in Benevento,

particular, is of importance because it represents one of the earliest breviaries to originate in Benevento. The breviary holds the psalter, canticles, the hymnary, chapters, and lessons. Before the breviary, it includes a list of popes, a calendar, and annals from c. 1097-1215. According to Lowe, “the list of popes and the annals have marginalia with interesting historical entries.” See Lowe, Scriptura Beneventana: facsimiles of South Italian and Dalmatian manuscripts from the sixth to the fourteenth century, 2 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1929), 2: no. 81. The Annales were edited by O. Bertolini, “Gli Annales Beneventani,” in Bullettino dell’Istituto Storico Italiana 42 (1923). Other work on the manuscript has been limited and a more thorough study much needed. See A. Ebner, “Historisches aus Liturgischen Handschriften Italiens,” in Historisches Jahrbuch 13 (1892): 750. 517 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 72. Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 4928 is dated to the early twelfth century by Brown (Terra sancti Benedicti, 465). For this manuscript, C. Hilken provided an edition of folios 296v-297v in Memory and Community in Medieval Southern Italy, 167. 518 Hilken provided a list of feasts found in BC 29 and London, British Library, Additional MS. 23776. In his edition, see “apud beneventum translatio sancti mercurii martyris a Quintodecimo in sanctam Sofiam” for in the feast of St Mercurius’ translatio. See Hilken, Memory and Community, 195. 519 Waitz preferred this edition to the thirteenth-century version in Veroli, Biblioteca Giovardiana 1 (edited by Giovardi in Acta), possibly because it was the earlier of the two. See Waitz, ed., Translatio S. Mercurii, p. 573. On BC 1, see Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:111-21; Lowe and Brown, The Beneventan Script, 2:17. For more on the Biblioteca Capitolare, see C. Lepore, “La biblioteca capitolare di Benevento. Regesti delle pergamene (secoli VII- XIII),” in four parts with an appendix. Printed in Rivista storica del Sannio 3a serie, part 1, anno 10.1 (2003): 201- 282; part 2, anno 10.2 (2003): 177-240; part 3, anno 11.1 (2004): 219-272; part 4, anno 12.1 (2005): 209-241; appendix with full transcriptions of docs. 1-42, anno 13.1 (2006): 251-315. 141

particularly Santa Sofia, and Emperor Frederick II.520 In addition to the anonymous prose Translatio, the sources in the Veroli manuscript related to St Mercurius include the above- mentioned hymn by Archbishop Landulf II, who was archbishop from 1108 until 1119, an anonymous verse Translatio, composed at an unknown date, and a sermon written in the second half of the twelfth century by a monk-priest named Stephen.521 On the Twelve Holy Brothers, there is a prose translatio by Bruno of Segni (d. 1123) (BHL 2302), a sermo for the feast of the Twelve Brothers (BHL 2301), a passio in twelve lectiones (BHL 2297), and a verse passio by Bishop Alphanus I of Salerno (1058-1085). Thus, the Veroli manuscript dates to the thirteenth century, based on its paleography and codicology, but its contents originate from a date range of 1058 (beginning of Alphanus I’s tenure as bishop) and 1123 (the date of Bruno of Segni’s death).522 Interestingly, Bishop Alphanus I had previously been a monk of Santa Sofia. This correlation led Giulio Batelli to the argument that, since there was evidently a period of interest in the Twelve Holy Brothers during his reign as bishop, the prose Translatio S. Mercurii held in the Veroli manuscript may also have dated to this period originally and was then later reworked for a liturgical celebration in the thirteenth century, when it was copied in the Veroli manuscript.

Batelli, however, did not mention the recension held in BC 1.523

In addition to the fact that the recension of the Translatio held in BC 1 is the earlier of the two versions, similarities between the two recensions give good reason to believe that the version of the prose Translatio held in the Veroli manuscript was based on the text held in BC 1. The only major difference between the two prose versions of the Translatio is a (now) missing prologue from the BC 1 version. However, the missing prologue in BC 1 was not an original characteristic of the manuscript. Instead, at some point the folio containing the prologue was removed from BC 1, since the Translatio begins rather abruptly in mid-sentence (“...quibuscumque concupiscibilibus ablatis…”), and without a title; the text preceding it, the Passio S. Bartholomei is also incomplete, ending mid-chapter (Fig. 2). A later hand, now identified as that of the

520 Wood, “Giovardi,” 202. 521 The sermo by Stephanus mentions a king William. This could refer to William I of Sicily, who died in 1166, or, alternately, William II, who died in 1189. Thus, a date range of 1166-1189 reinforces the likelihood of a thirteenth- century terminus post quem for the compilation of the Veroli manuscript. In any case, Stephanus’ work is the most recent work in the manuscript. See Wood, “Giovardi,” 200. 522 Wood, “Giovardi,” 199; Giovardi, Acta passionis, 12. 523 Battelli, “Il lezionario di S. Sofia di Benevento,” 290. 142

eighteenth-century historian Stefano Borgia, supplied a title for the Translatio S. Mercurii (Fig.

3).524 The final portion of the Passios S. Bartholomei likely ended, therefore, on the same folio on which the Translatio S. Mercurii began, and both sources were likely originally complete in

BC 1.525

Figure 2 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 67r: first folio of the Translatio S. Mercurii, beginning in mid-chapter with quibuscumque.

524 Stefano Borgia’s research at the Biblioteca Capitolare in Benevento from 1759 until 1764 was the basis for his Memorie istoriche della pontificia città di Benevento dal sec. VIII al secolo XVIII (Rome: Stampe del Salomoni, 1763, 1754, 1769). 525 BC 1, fol. 67ra. It appears as though at some point the folio containing the prologue (67v) was intentionally removed from the lectionary, rather than damaged. This folio would have also included the last two folios in the Passio S. Bartholomei Apostoli (fols. 59v-66v). See Mallet and Thibaut, Les Manuscrits, 1:115. 143

Figure 3 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 67r, title of Translatio S. Mercurii supplied by Stefano Borgia (c. 1759-1764).

From this chronology, we have seen an absence of the liturgy of St Mercurius from before the late eleventh century. While some sources have previously been attributed to eighth- or ninth- century authors, like the prose passio of Arichis or the verse translatio of Paul the Deacon, these cannot be dated with certainty. It is unclear why his cult does not survive in any Beneventan mass or music, while the Twelve Holy Brothers, who were purportedly translated to Santa Sofia only a few years before Mercurius, survive in many textual genres. Perhaps Mercurius’ cult never existed in the Beneventan style and was only celebrated according to the Gregorian liturgy.526 Kelly has noted that even as the Beneventan rite was phased out in favor of the Gregorian mass, it was not entirely eradicated. While the liturgy that evoked the Lombard past was gradually replaced by , which reflected strengthened ties with Rome, the saints that represented this past persisted as an important element in the liturgy. The original Beneventan antiphons for St Barbatus and the Twelve Holy Brothers, for example, survived in the twelfth-century sources, as we have seen in the manuscript BC 40.527 These factors pose uncertainties and challenges to studying the development of Mercurius’ cult at an early stage and its role in early-medieval Benevento, because his cult simply does not survive in any extant material from the Beneventan rite but the absence of such evidence does not deny the possibility of it existing. What is clear, in the end, is that there was a considerable amount of energy focused on the cult in a later period, reflected in liturgical material that originated between the late eleventh and twelfth century. The sources from this period reveal that Mercurius was an important part of the liturgical culture in Benevento at that time.

526 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 73. 527 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 66. 144

We have encountered earlier in this dissertation the usefulness of hagiographical sources, and inventiones in particular, in the writing and circulation of communal histories. Sources like the Translatio S. Sossii and the Vita S. Pardi were used not only for their symbolic value but also as concrete measures of writing and rewriting the past. One primary vehicle for these hagiographical sources, of course, was the celebration of the liturgy, where they were read or sung aloud in mass or the office, within a single community or across multiple geographies as liturgical manuscripts were copied and shared. Thus, translationes, inventiones, and other hagiographies ought not be disembodied from the liturgical contexts in which they were read or sung and yet most studies of these sources, have made scant reference to their function in the liturgy.528 We will see that, in the case of Santa Sofia, it was important not only to compose and copy the legends of ancient saints within its own manuscripts but to circulate these legends within the liturgical manuscripts that were made for other institutions. The ability to circulate its own history gave added force to the legend.

In recent years, scholarship on the importance of the liturgy as a way of writing have focused, notably, on musicological sources.529 These studies have shown that communities encoded the hymns they sung not only with sacred meaning but also with their own historical identities. Similarly, a study of the compilation and roles of lectionaries and homiliaries, which commemorate the feast days of the sanctorale and the temporale through readings like vitae, translationes, and inventiones, also reveals the liturgy to have been fundamental to the writing of history, as much so as musicological sources.530 As scholars have long known, while the celebrations of the temporale commemorated the life of Christ in a continuous and cyclical fashion every year, with each dies natalis of the sanctorale, a specific (and oftentimes local)

528 Gyug makes this point for the chronicles of southern Italy in “Reading for Ritual,” 556. Besides Boynton’s research on the abbey of Farfa, for the hagiographies of southern Italy, Brand’s monograph, Holy Treasure Sacred Song, offers a notable exception. Yet, most of the surveys of hagiographical narratives composed during the Lombard and Norman periods in southern Italy study these sources independently from their liturgical contexts. See, for instance, Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana”; Paoli, “Tradizioni agiografiche dei ducati di Spoleto e Benevento”; D’Angelo, “Agiografia Latina,” 47-57; Luongo, “Alla ricerca del sacro: Le traslazioni dei santi in epoca altomedievale,” 17-39. 529 E.g. Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity; A. Haug and G. Attinger, The Nidaros Office of the Holy Blood: Liturgical Music in Medieval (Trondheim: Tapir Academic Press, 2004); Fassler, The Virgin of Chartres; Fassler and Balzer, eds., The Divine Office in the Latin Middle Ages; Brand, Holy Treasure Sacred Song; R. Hankelm, ed., Political Plainchant?. 530 Hilken’s work on the chapter book of the Beneventan monastery Gualdo Mazzocca has demonstrated this well. See Hilken, Memory and Community. 145

history was invoked by celebrants of the liturgy.531 Thus, by circulating the memory of St Mercurius’ inventio and translatio, Santa Sofia revivified its own history. Similarly, by inserting Mercurius’ feast within the sanctorale of other institutions, the abbey reminded its neighbors of the sacred bond it held with Mercurius and Arichis II and defended against other institutions, like the cathedral, that may have attempted to co-opt its saints in the late eleventh and twelfth century, as we will soon discuss.

The Scriptorium of Santa Sofia and the Transmission of Mercurius’ Cult: BC 1 and the Liturgy of Santa Sofia

Within Benevento, no other institution outpaced Santa Sofia in the production of liturgical manuscripts written in Beneventan script. However, as Virginia Brown cautioned, Santa Sofia was not alone in Benevento. There were other monastic communities as well as the cathedral in the city, and some of these institutions were likely capable of creating their own manuscripts. In addition to this, Beneventan minuscule written in Benevento during the eleventh and twelfth centuries was not uniform, suggesting that there were multiple centers for production within the city. Brown cited three types of Beneventan script prevalent in Benevento during this period. There was the Montecassino type, characterized by shaded and lozenge-shaped strokes. The Montecassino type of Beneventan minuscule was a product of Montecassino’s, and especially

Abbot Desiderius of Montecassino’s, ties with Benevento.532 There was also the Bari style of Beneventan script, which was used in Bari and throughout Apulia. However, the Bari-style Beneventan script was not as common by the twelfth century in Benevento. Finally, there was a type of Beneventan minuscule that was unique to the city itself. According to Brown, this was a

“harmonious blend” of the former two styles.533

Even with this variety, extant manuscripts in Beneventan minuscule indicate that the abbey of Santa Sofia played the predominant role in manuscript production in Benevento in the twelfth century. Evidence suggests that by the twelfth century even the scriptorium associated with the cathedral of Benevento gave way to the monks of Santa Sofia for texts composed in Beneventan

531 Fassler, “Liturgical Framework of Time,” 158-9. 532 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 670. 533 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 670. 146

minuscule.534 In fact, as we saw in the previous section, many of the liturgical manuscripts now attributed to the scriptorium of Santa Sofia were actually intended for use in other monastic institutions, like the female monastery of San Pietro intra muros or the community of Santa

Maria del Gualdo Mazzocca, a male community near Benevento.535 In the liturgical sources attributed to Santa Sofia between the late eleventh and twelfth century, the focus on the celebration of St Mercurius underscores the sense that the abbey not only took pride in possessing Mercurius’ relics during this period, but also may have benefitted from circulating the celebration of his feast days in order to promote its own reputation as of these prized relics.

A discussion of the liturgical sources related to the Translatio S. Mercurii would be incomplete without an examination of the lectionary that holds its earliest extant witness: BC 1. The primary challenge associated with studying BC 1, is that the manuscript does not have a clear origin and provenance.536 While it is uncertain where BC 1 was produced and later used, scholars agree that it was likely created in Benevento or its immediate environ as opposed to Bari or Montecassino, where Beneventan script was also in use.537 However, we will see in the paragraphs to follow that there is good reason to believe that the manuscript originated in the abbey of Santa Sofia during the twelfth century.

BC 1 is a large and illuminated manuscript (292 folios, 353 x 257 mm), with vibrant ornamental capitals. Its contents include readings for saints’ feast days that fall in the liturgical year from 28 July until 30 September. Lowe originally dated BC 1 to between the late eleventh and early twelfth century based on its paleographical and codicological attributes.538 Mallet and Thibaut, however, further narrowed this date to sometime in the twelfth century, and more likely between the first half of the twelfth century. Mallet and Thibaut based this dating on the manuscript’s paleographical and its codicological characteristics but also on its relationship with the other

534 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 671. Brown noted that there are no liturgical manuscripts written in Beneventan that can be securely attributed to an episcopal scriptorium in Benevento in the twelfth century. For the predominance of Santa Sofia’s scriptorium in twelfth-century Benevento, see also Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:43-4. 535 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 685-6; The manuscripts known to have been made for use within the abbey include London, British Library, Additional MS. 23776 (Martyrology of Usuard); Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 4939 (Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae); Veroli, Biblioteca Giovardiana 1 (monastic lectionary). 536 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 675. 537 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 681. 538 Lowe, The Beneventan Script, 335. 147

hagiographical lectionaries held in Benevento’s Biblioteca Capitolare. In addition to BC 1, there are seven other hagiographical lectionaries in the Biblioteca Capitolare that date to the twelfth century. None of these lectionaries covers the complete liturgical year.539 Based on their paleographical characteristics, their codicological attributes, and the organization of their contents, Mallet and Thibaut argued for the possibility that some of these lectionaries originated in the same scriptorium in Benevento.540 Further, at an unknown date, there were a number of exchanges that took place between three lectionaries in particular: BC 1, BC 2, and BC 4. In BC 4, folios 165-166 were extracted and placed in BC 1, folios 244-283; in BC 1, folios 16-17 were extracted and placed in BC 2, folios 228-243; finally, in BC 1, folios 93-94 were extracted and placed in BC 2, folios 204-227.541 This series of exchanges led Mallet and Thibaut to the conclusion that these three lectionaries shared a strong connection and may have been produced in the same scriptorium. However, BC 1, BC 2, and BC 4 are different enough in their codicology and paleography that Mallet and Thibaut rejected the possibility that these manuscripts were originally intended to be parts of the same series of lectionaries covering the

“circulum anni.”542

On the other hand, BC 1 shares strong paleographical and codicological similarities with another lectionary written in Benevento in the twelfth century, Montecassino, Archivio Privato, cod. 1 (Casinensis). Casinensis covers the course of the liturgical year following that of BC 1. It begins on the feast of St Luke (18 October) and ends on the feast of St Peter of Alexandria (26 November). Like BC 1, Casinensis, also contains readings about regional saints, including a Passio of St Mercurius (25 November), strengthening the sense that these manuscripts may have originally belonged together.543 Because of these similarities, Mallet and Thibaut suggested that BC 1 and Casinensis were two parts of the same series of lectionaries that, as a whole, may have covered the extent of the liturgical year.544

539 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:35, 42. The lectionaries held in the Biblioteca Capitolare include MSS 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, and 17. In addition to these there is also Montecassino, Archivio Privato, cod. 1 (Casinensis) that came from the Biblioteca Capitolare in Benevento to Montecassino in the late eighteenth century. 540 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:36. 541 For a guide of these exchanges, see Mallet, Les manuscrits, 1:36. 542 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:38-47. 543 A complete catalogue of Casinensis is in Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:244-53. 544 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:47. 148

Mallet and Thibaut determined a terminus post quem for both Casinensis and BC 4, which in turn may have consequences for the dating of BC 1. The terminus post quem for BC 4 and Casinensis is based on the presence of readings composed by John of Gaeta, the future Gelasius

II (1118-1119), in these manuscripts.545 In BC 4, these readings include the Vita of John of Spoleto (BHL 4438), the Passio of Ypoliste, and the Vita of Eustachius. In Casinensis, John of Gaeta was responsible for the Vita of (BHL 4377). If BC 1 was truly linked with BC 4 and Casinensis, as Mallet and Thibaut argued, then it too may share a terminus post quem of the date of the composition of these sources, which must have been before John of

Gaeta’s death in 1119.546 In the end, Mallet and Thibaut’s argument on the dating of BC 1 and 4 to the twelfth century comes down to their assessment of the manuscript’s paleography as probably belonging to the early twelfth century.547

BC 1 was used by the lector during Matins since some readings contain divisions into twelve lessons. This shows that it was probably made for use within a monastery.548 BC 1 also bears evidence of liturgical use, and the folios containing the Translatio S. Mercurii are among the most worn, with some folios containing wax drops.549 In general, the readings for the principal feasts of Santa Sofia bear moderate to heavy signs of use while readings for feast days of saints who were not associated with the abbey appear relatively pristine. The evidence that BC 1 was created in Benevento, at a monastic institution, and that the signs of its use in the monastic liturgy point towards the spiritual culture of Santa Sofia, which was the largest and most

545 On John of Gaeta’s hagiography see, O. Engels, “Alberich von Montecassino und sein Schüler Johannes von Gaeta,” Studien und Mitteilungen zur Geschichte des Benediktinerordens 66 (1955): 35-50. 546 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:47. 547 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:47-8, n. 2. In volume 2 of Les manuscrits (p. 49) Mallet and Thibaut suggested the possibility of a later date of the late twelfth century for BC 4. BC 4 contains a recension of the Translatio S. Nicolai by Nicephorus of Bari (BHL 6180). According to A. Pertusi’s research in “La contesa per le reliquie di S. Nicola tra Bari, Venezia e Genova,” Quaderni Medievali 5 (1978): 20, on which Mallet and Thibaut based their own conclusions, the Beneventan recension of the Translatio S. Nicolai in BC 4 must have been composed between 1151 and 1190, thus pushing the date of BC 4 to between those two dates. While this may impact the terminus post quem of BC 1, it is not a certainty first and foremost because this dating is predicated on BC 1’s relationship to BC 4, which itself is not a definite. BC 4 may well have been produced later than BC 1 as there is no evidence to suggest otherwise. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:47. On Nicephorus’ Translatio, see Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 119. 548 Readings for Monastic Matins on Sundays and feasts were divided into twelve lessons. See Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity, 40; J. Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy from the Tenth to the Eighteenth Century: A Historical Introduction and Guide for Students and Musicians (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 91-2. BC 1, fols. 171v-175v contain the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth lessons for the feast of Pro Sancta Cruce. BC 3, 4, 7, 17 also include readings divided into twelve lessons. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:37. 549 Overall signs of liturgical use in BC 1 includes evidence of thumbing on readings for primary feast days, wax drops (see, for instance, fol. 239v), careful and uniform formatting for legibility. 149

productive scriptorium in late eleventh- and early twelfth-century Benevento, suggests that the manuscript was created within Santa Sofia and may even have been used there.

The manuscript bears further evidence that situates it in the scriptorium of Santa Sofia. First, BC 1 shares significant paleographic similarities with Beneventan codices firmly attributed to the twelfth-century scriptorium of Santa Sofia.550 These characteristics, identified by Virginia Brown, include the following: - two-column format of thirty lines each (Fig. 2) - uniform script with moderate ascenders and descenders (Fig. 2)

- final punctuation consisting of ,., (running very closely together) (Fig. 3)551 - pearling on ornamental capitals (Fig. 5) - vertical infilling of majuscules with blue (Fig. 4)

- majuscules that terminate in “vaguely floral motifs”552

550 For a list, see Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 684-86 and Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 14-5, n. 65; Mallet, Les manuscrits, 1:71; Lowe, The Beneventan Script, 11. 551 BC 1, fol. 270, lines 2 and 14. 552 Naples, Biblioteca della Società di Storia Napoletana, XXXIII A 1 (3) (Breviary, c. 1161) and BC 22 (Breviary, c. 1161) are additional examples of the twelfth-century trends in the scriptorium of Santa Sofia. See Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 459 and 676-9. 150

Figure 4 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 270r.

151

Figure 5 Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1, fol. 280r.

152

BC 1 also shares similar codicological attributes as other known Santa Sofian manuscripts from the twelfth century. For instance, Mallet and Thibaut attributed the twelfth-century breviary, BC

22, to the scriptorium of Santa Sofia because of its paleography and codicology.553 BC 1 shares the same support, the same system of ruling, same number of columns and number of lines (except for folios in BC 22 that contain neumes), same amount of space between columns, and similar color scheme in rubrication.554

The narrative content of BC 1 also offers convincing evidence that the manuscript originated in the twelfth-century scriptorium of Santa Sofia. The lectionary includes the feasts associated with the principal saintly patrons of Santa Sofia, like Mercurius and the Twelve Holy Brothers, as well as other saints associated with Benevento, like Bartholomew and Januarius, who were long held as the city’s patron saints.555 In addition to these, BC 1 includes a local usage for the feast of the passio of St Sofia and her daughters, as mentioned earlier. The feast of St Sofia and her daughter’s passio aligns with the celebration of the passio in other Santa Sofian manuscripts.556 In BC 1, the passio of St Sofia and her daughters is indicated on 30 September, according to the ordering of lectiones. However, in the Martyrology of Usuard, the basis of the Roman

Martyrology, the passio of St Sofia was celebrated typically on 1 August.557 Here, rather than following the Martyrology of Usuard, the lectionary appears to have followed the sequence found in the martyrologies produced in Santa Sofia. These include, London, British Library, Additional MS 23776 (twelfth or thirteenth century); BC 26 (twelfth century); BC 37 (eleventh or twelfth century); Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale VI E 43 (eleventh or twelfth century); Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 4928 (twelfth century); and Vatican City,

553 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:43-4. 554 The full codicological characteristics of BC 1 and BC 22 can be compared in Les manuscrits, 1:111-2 and 2:76-7. 555 For the translation of St Januarius to Benevento, see AASS, September 4, pp. 766; Granier, “Napolitains et Lombards aux VIIIe-XIe siècles,” 436; Fasola, “Il culto a san Gennaro, patrono di Napoli, nelle sue catacombe di Capodimonte,” 67-9; Anderson, “Historical Memory,” ch. 4. 556 For the tradition of St Sophia in Benevento, see Robertini, “Il ‘Sapientia’ di Rosvita,” 651-2. According to Robertini, the tradition of the Passion of St Sophia and her daughters in BC 1 (BHL 2966) is derivative of the Milanese tradition, which ultimately came from the Roman tradition represented in the Passio S. Sophiae (BHL 2698). It may have been that the abbey of Santa Sofia coopted the milanese tradition sometime before the compilation of BC 1. Besides BC 1, The feast of St Sophia and her daughters is mentioned only in BC 66, a late twelfth-century ordinary made for the monastery of San Pietro. 557 Martyrologium Usuardi monachi, ed. Jean-Baptiste du Sollier, in PL 123, cols. 483-992 and 124 cols. 9-853. For the feast of Sofia, 124: col. 319. For more, Dubois, Le Martyrologe d’Usuard: texte et commentaire (Brussels: Société des Bollandistes 1965). 153

Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 5949 (twelfth or thirteenth century).558 Here, the dating of a 30 September celebration of the feast of the passio S. Sophiae in BC 1 correlates to the local usages found in other Santa Sofia calendars.559

Finally, the lectiones for two additional saints in BC 1 also indicate a possible Santa Sofian context. A fragmented Beneventan colophon, originally part of Naples, Archivio Storico

Diocesano, fondo Ebdomadari, Cod. misc. 1, fasc. VII, fol. 32,560 documented that in 1161 Henry, the archbishop of Benevento (1156-1170), consecrated the church of San Salvatore, built next to Santa Sofia’s infirmary. Abbot John of Santa Sofia (c. 1142-1177) was present and oversaw the interment of several saints’ relics within the new church.561 The relics placed within the church of San Salvatore had probably originally belonged to Santa Sofia, since Santa Sofia’s own abbot oversaw their translation within the church. These relics included those of Juvenal (2 May), the Seven Maccabees (1 August), Cornelius (14 September), Renatus (6 October), Nemesius and his daughter Lucilla (31 October), Marianus (1 December), and Abundius (10

558 Mallet, Les manuscrits, 1:121; 2:95. The abbey’s adherence to the Martyrology of Usuard except for several modifications, see London, British Library, Additional MS. 23776 and Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 685. It was common for communities in southern Italy to follow the martyrology of Usuard while also modifying it through the insertion of local saints. See Hilken, Memory and Community, 78-9; H. Quentin, Les martyrologes historiques du moyen âge: étude sur la formation du martyrologe romain (Aalen: Scientia-Verl., 1969), 691-2; Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 273-360. 559 The feast of Santa Sofia is absent in the late twelfth-century martyrology of Gualdo Mazzocca (Vatican City, BAV, Vat. lat. 5949), which was likely made in the scriptorium of Santa Sofia but for a neighboring community. In this martyrology, several Santa Sofia saints are omitted. In particular, the martyrology omits the dedications of altars and feasts of relic translations that were specifically Beneventan, including that of Mercurius. Mercurius’ passio is, however, celebrated on 25 November in Vat. lat. 5949. See Hilken, Memory and Community, 66, 83. The omission of such feasts may have been due to the fact that the chapter-book was made for use outside the monastery. 560 Brown discovered that this fragment belonged to the Santa Sofian Breviary Naples, Archivio Storico Diocesano, fondo Ebdomadari, Cod. misc. 1, fasc. VII, fol. 32. See Terra Sancti Benedicti, 458-72. On this manuscript, see also R. Arnese, “Il codice miscellaneo n. 1 dell'Archivio Storico Diocesano di Napoli,” Atti della Accademia Pontaniana 18 (1968-69): 183-95. The manuscript consists of fourteen fascicules which are liturgical/hagiographical in nature see Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 458, n. 23. 561 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 465. Mallet and Thibaut expanded on Brown’s arguments, proving compelling evidence that the colophon was produced in the scriptorium of Santa Sofia. They argued that its codicological and paleographical similarities with BC 22, a twelfth-century breviary, demonstrate that the two manuscripts were almost definitely made in the same scriptorium. The only such scriptorum known in the twelfth century to be capable of producing such similitude was that of Santa Sofia. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:43. 154

December).562 St Juvenal was honored with an altar and was celebrated in the calendars of Santa

Sofia and others, like the Seven Maccabees, were affiliated with Beneventan families.563

A few of the saints deposited in San Salvatore also share a connection with BC 1 and the lectionary BC 4. Together, Benevento, BC 1 and BC 4, which may have been produced in the same scriptorum,564 include readings for three out of the seven saints translated from Santa Sofia to San Salvatore in 1161: Cornelius (Benevento, BC 1, fols. 164r-169r), the Seven Maccabees (Benevento, BC 1, fols. 13r-16v moved at a later date to Benevento, BC 2, fols. 228r-229v), and Juvenal (Benevento, BC 4, fols. 153r-159r). Since these saints are among those who can be associated with Santa Sofia with some certainty, based on their presence in calendars as well as the fragmentary colophon of 1161, their simultaneous appearance in BC 1 and 4 provides further support for a Santa Sofian context for the production of these lectionaries.565

The question remains whether or not BC 1 was made for use within Santa Sofia. Unfortunately, there is no definitive answer to this. Since the abbey had such an active scriptorium and provided liturgical material for its neighbors, it cannot be said with certainty that the lectionary was made for use in Santa Sofia. Sources like the chapter book of Gualdo Mazzocca (Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 5949) and the liturgical texts made by Santa Sofia for San Pietro intra muros (Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 29 and 37, for example) bear the

562 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 462-4. The colophon is transcribed by Brown and reads as follows: “Anno millesimo centesimo sexagesimo primo Henricus venerabilis beneventanus archiepiscopus consecravit basilicam Sancti Salvatoris iuxta infirmarium sitam et pro infirmis specialiter constructam. In cuius altari recondite sunt reliquie sanctorum Cornelii pape, Iuuenalis martyris, Mariani martyris, Renati episcopi et confessoris, Sancti Abundii diaconi et martyris, Nemesii martiris et Lucille virginis filie eius, sanctorum septem fratrum decimo die intrantis mensis septembris anno promotionis Abbatis Iohannis quarti septimo in anniuersario autem dedicationis prefate basilice omnibus ad eam concurrentibus ex autoritate ante dicti archiepiscopi decem dierum remissio condonatur hanc ecclesiam domnus Albertus decanus fecit fieri et pro ea hunc librum scribi.” 563 For example, London, British Library, Add. MS 23776, BC 29 and Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 5949 include Juvenal’s feast with the rubric “in Santa Sofia.” See Hilken, Memory and Community, 188; Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 466. For more on Juvenal in Santa Sofia, see also Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 2:40. 564 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:36-7. 565 Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 465-6, n.35. The evidence for the saints attached to Santa Sofia is based on studies of lectionaries and martyrologies. To my knowledge there is no (known) list of the identities of the saints enshrined there. However, Leo Marsicanus mentioned in the Chron. Cas. that Arichis II placed the bodies of thirty-one saints in the abbey of Santa Sofia. See Chron. Cas., bk. 1, ch. 9, pp. 37-8. A later document from 1119 mentions the presence of forty-four saints. See Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 10:544. According to Brown, the saints relics’ placed within San Salvatore were not chosen randomly. Instead, they appear to represent a hierarchy: Cornelius was a pope, Juvenal was a martyr, Renatus was a bishop, Abundius and Nemesius were , the Seven Brothers were Old Testament saints. See Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 467. 155

fingerprint of Santa Sofia not only in their paleographic features but in their content, like BC 1. One detail might, however, be telling. In addition to the inclusion of Santa Sofian saints in the calendars made by Santa Sofia, the note “in sancta Sofia” appears in several entries for the Santa Sofian feast days. Lowe, Brown, Kelly, and Hilken have taken this, among other elements, as a sign that these sources originated in Santa Sofia but were made for use outside the monastery as a way to show which saints were held in the abbey.566 Benevento, BC 1 does not include such a reference. This may be because the manuscript was made for use within the monastery rendering such an indication unnecessary.

If BC 1 was made for use within Santa Sofia, it points to the continued liturgical focus on the cult of St Mercurius, and other historic Beneventan saints, within the abbey. However, even though it cannot be shown unequivocally that BC 1 was actually used in the abbey, it nevertheless remains highly plausible that the contents of the lectionary closely resemble the liturgical practice of Santa Sofia. In the end, the evidence suggests the following: first, BC 1 was likely composed in the scriptorium of Santa Sofa based on paleographical features and content; second, BC 1 is at the least reflective of the liturgical readings that the abbey used, since it contains saints particularly associated with Santa Sofia; if BC 1 was made for use outside Santa Sofia, it also represents how Santa Sofia chose to curate its own history through liturgical material intended for another community.

The possibility that BC 1 was intended for use in another community brings up an important aspect of the creation of historical identities through the use of the liturgy. Santa Sofia’s tendency to incorporate its own saints in the martyrologies and calendars of other monasteries shows its willingness to circulate its own history, rendering its hagiography not only a story remembered by the abbey but also by all those who participated in the liturgical celebration of these saints. This reality is important in itself because in cases like BC 1, which holds hagiographical texts associated particularly with Santa Sofia’s past, the abbey would have integrated the story of its own history within the communities that received liturgical sources from Santa Sofia.

566 Lowe, The Beneventan Script, 2:152; Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 685; Hilken, Memory and Community, 66; Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 72. 156

Through the production of manuscripts, the memory of Mercurius’ discovery and translation was disseminated through the performance of the holy liturgy.567 Specifically, the copying/writing of a liturgical text like the Translatio and its relationship with other liturgical sources make it possible to imagine very particular moments in the spiritual life of a community in early twelfth- century Benevento, whether in Santa Sofia or elsewhere. For example, the martyrology in Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 29 was made in Santa Sofia for the monastery of San Pietro intra muros, but very likely resembles a martyrology that would have been used in Santa Sofia since it contains the primary Santa Sofian saints. In this martyrology, the feast of the Translatio S. Mercurii on 26 August is highlighted and bolded in red ink, indicating that a particular lesson or homily was read in honor of the saint during the office of Matins.568 Homilies or longer readings were taken from office lectionaries, like BC 1.569 In the case of the celebration of Mercurius’ translatio on 26 August, during the morning chapter on the day before the feast, the monks may have heard a chapter of the Translatio S. Mercurii divided as such to prepare them for the following day.570 On the actual feast day, during the office of Matins, a longer selection or perhaps the entire Translatio was read aloud. During this celebration, the community heard a story of forgetting and remembering. First, they recalled how Constans II imported Mercurius’ relics from Byzantium and later forgot them in Quintodecimo. Then, those present were reminded how Arichis II commissioned a search party, scoured the earth, and eventually uncovered the relics of Mercurius. Finally, the monks heard how, as a result of this discovery, Prince Arichis II established the very feast they were gathered to celebrate:

567 For more on this idea in general, see C. Symes, “Liturgical Texts and Performance Practices,” in Understanding Medieval Liturgy, eds. H. Gittos and S. Hamilton (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2015), 239-67; Related to a specific community, see Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity. 568 On the function of martyrologies see Hilken, Memory and Community, 88-93. The following paragraphs have been greatly aided by Hilken’s research on the chapter book of Santa Maria del Gualdo Mazzocca and the use of liturgical sources. In the early twelfth-century office manual of Santa Sofia, the scribe noted that on these special feast days, during the morning office the lector would prepare the monks for the feast by reading a short excerpt from a homily or a saint’s life. Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 4928, fols. 296v-297v are edited in Hilken, Memory and Community, 167: “Deinde lector legat lectionem, sive de regula sive de omelia. Qua finita pronuntiet de tabula fratres qui debeant cantare vel legere nocte sequenti, postea vero dicat sacerdos.” 569 Regarding office lectionaries, see R. W. Pfaff, The Liturgy in Medieval England: A History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 7; P. Salmon, Les manuscrits liturgiques latins de la Bibliothèque Vaticane (Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1971), 4:ix-xi; Hilken, Memory and Community, 92, n. 84. 570 If a capitular lesson does exist for the feast of Mercurius, it may be in Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale, VI E 43 or Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale, XVI A 19, both of which contain mass readings and are unedited. For more, see Lowe, Scriptura Beneventana. 157

Arichis stated that in the basilica, where Mercurius had been carried, on the altar dedicated to him, according to the custom in all important churches, Mercurius would be held among all others through devotion to him individually and honorably in special feasts to be celebrated during either the mass or office, depending on what the solemnity called for.571

Here, the Translatio as a text was a conscious effort to trigger the memory of a collective past, the meaning of which was reinforced by the performative interaction between the content of the text and the celebration of the feast of Mercurius. The text itself and the performance of the text in the liturgy created a relationship of reciprocity between the inventio and the memory of the inventio. The monks listened as the lector recalled the origin of the feasts of Mercurius, but they also actively and simultaneously celebrated those feasts, creating and reinforcing the lines of memory established with the composition of the text. When the Translatio S. Mercurii was read among members of neighboring communities, this memory was significant for Santa Sofia because the abbey stood at the center of the narrative as the recipient not only of the treasured relics but the patronage of the prince and bishop of Benevento. This confluence gives the sense that the past remained relevant, that the past held the power to order the present.

The collection of feasts in BC 1, particularly those that relate to Santa Sofia, represents a selection of saints important and particular to the community in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. These saints all happened to be rooted in the past. Among these, Mercurius, the Twelve Brothers, Januarius, and Bartholomew recalled Santa Sofia’s central role in the spiritual life of Benevento, as a place where the stories of ancient saints were creatively transcribed and shared. The abbey was not in the process of creating new saints but rather uncovering and reimagining old ones.

It is worth noting that the lectionary not only included saints like Mercurius, important for the formation of the abbey’s identity. It also collected the stories of the saints of other Beneventan ecclesiastical institutions, like Bartholomew and Januarius, important for the city’s identity as the seat of the archbishop. In other words, while the saints of Santa Sofia’s past appeared in the codices of institutions outside the abbey walls, particularly the cathedral, through the copying

571 Translatio S. Mercurii, p. 577: “Quin etiam sub protestatione adiecit, quod in basilica, ad quam vehendus erat, altare ipsius, hoc ei privilegio dignitatis, sicut ecclesiis principalibus consuevit, impenso, ut festis precipuis in missarum aliorumve officiorum, que sibi queque prout est poscit solemnitas, celebrationibus devotius et specialius asstendo, inter cetera principalius esset habendum.” 158

and sharing of liturgical sources, so too did the saints of a broader local identity infiltrate and influence the group of monks within Santa Sofia. This relationship shows the formative role that scriptoria played in the shaping of local identities and memory as well as local competitions.

Santa Sofia and her Neighbors after the Late Eleventh Century: New Contexts for the Translatio S. Mercurii

The sense that there was a minimal division between the community of Santa Sofia and the rest of Benevento is also evident in the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae. In this collection of documents, as we shall see, the abbey stood not only in the midst of the spiritual communities of Benevento, like San Pietro intra muros, but also among a complex network of temporal and ecclesiastical authorities outside Benevento. The abbey repeatedly used the memory of Mercurius to strengthen its position within this network. The documents copied in the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae both predate and overlap with the period in which the Translatio S. Mercurii was composed in BC 1. This chronology suggests that the liturgical aspects of Mercurius’ cult, like the record of his Translatio in BC 1, developed alongside the growing awareness of and attention to his relics represented in the documents of the Chronicon. This affinity prompts us to study the two sources together, not as a monolithic work, but as contemporary products of the process of preserving and “inventing” memory within the abbey of Santa Sofia between the late eleventh and the early twelfth century.

The Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae was compiled in the scriptorium of Santa Sofia between 1098 and around 1119.572 Martin argued that the compilation of the Chronicon began around 1098 in response to a text written by Leo Marsicanus, which detailed the conflict between Santa Sofia and Montecassino.573 We will return to this text shortly. In addition to the conflict with Montecassino, it is possible that other causes contributed to the compilation of the Chronicon between the late eleventh and twelfth century. These include the pressures brought on by the regional Norman lords, the abbey’s relationship with the papacy, and the increased attention to the archbishops of Benevento.

572 The manuscript, Vat. Lat. 4939, was composed predominantly by a single hand. See Martin’s comments in the introduction, CSS, 1:2-3. 573 Martin, “Breve storia dell codice,” in CSS, 1:2, 62-3; Anderson also provides an overview of the contents and composition of the Chronicon. See “Historical Memory,” 253-4. 159

The Chronicon contains year-by-year-Annales for the city of Benevento with short entries, a catalogue of dukes and princes of Benevento, and a Liber praeceptum consisting of donations made to Santa Sofia from the time of Arichis II through 1119. The documents are predominantly copies of earlier charters and relate, for the most part, to the abbey’s property and independence. The Chronicon contains relatively few forgeries and is considered to present events and the abbey’s land holdings accurately in general.574 The collection of documents within the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae strategically positioned the abbey within a complex network of shifting relationships while strengthening its own authority within this network. The Chronicon records Lombard, papal, and Norman activities in and around Benevento and further afield while Santa Sofia and its history stand at the center of this narrative. It is rooted in the Lombard past of Arichis II and ancient saints like Mercurius, but acknowledged the presence and patronage of neighboring twelfth-century authorities.

One of the ways in which this connection between past and present appears in the Chronicon is through the memory of Arichis II’s royal patronage.575 The memory of Arichis appears in the documents of the Chronicon dated to the late eighth century. The first documents in the Liber praeceptum of the Chronicon comprise over ten folios (28v-39r) and include sixty-nine individual donations made by Prince Arichis II to Santa Sofia. The donations are preceded by a lengthy prologue in which Arichis II confirmed the foundation of the monastery and the provision of a treasury of precious objects donated to Santa Sofia. These donations are accompanied by a full-page miniature of Arichis himself overseeing construction of the abbey.576 This series of donations by Arichis II is one of the few instances where interpolation is thought to be at work in the Chronicon.577 Here, it is important to note that the Chronicon, although consisting primarily of copies of genuine documents and therefore containing a cartulary reliable for identifying the abbey’s holdings, also represents the ways in which a community creatively recalled its origin to suit its needs in the twelfth century. My questions here will not focus on the truth or falsity of documents held in the Chronicon but rather the ways in which the monks of

574 For more on the composition of Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 4939, see CSS, 1:64-78. 575 On temporal conflation and memory in foundation charters, see Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 20-1. 576 CSS, 1:289- 336. The miniature can be found on fol. 28v. of Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. lat. 4939. Facsimile in CSS, “tavole.” Vat. lat. 4939 is also available digitally at https://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Vat.lat.4939. 577 CSS, 1:60-63. 160

Santa Sofia remembered and created (or invented) a past that was useful to them.578 In the process of writing memory, the discovery of St Mercurius was an important tool used to encourage authorities to honor the abbey’s possessions, alongside recognizing its importance due to the memory of Arichis’ foundation and patronage. The following analysis is based on Martin’s transcription of the Chronicon. In these copied charters, presented here in chronological order, the memory of Mercurius’ discovery and translation was invoked by the abbey as a means of addressing the conflicts and concerns of the late eleventh and early twelfth century, especially those related to the temporal and ecclesiastical powers that surrounded the abbey. These examples reveal an affinity between the hagiographical narrative of the Translatio S. Mercurii and the documents preserved in the Chronicon and provide an interpretive framework in which to understand how the memory of St Mercurius was utilized in the twelfth century by the abbey of Santa Sofia. Similar to the reciprocity between the ducal charter of 908, examined in chapter 1, the following analysis demonstrates the extremely porous boundaries between charter and hagiographies. Inventiones, in particular, were well suited for the fashioning of history because, in these sources, the past (or a new past) was quite literally uncovered in the discovery of relics. In turn, this remembered or imagined history could infiltrate other records of the past, like charters and diplomas.

6.1 Praeceptum confirmationis, 1080

As mentioned, by the mid-eleventh century, the land holdings of Santa Sofia that lay outside Benevento had contracted compared to its original eighth-century endowment made by Arichis and his successors.579 In response, the abbey made a concerted effort to keep or regain the properties that it could. At times, this entered the community into disputes with nearby ecclesiastics.

One example of such a dispute reveals that devotion to Mercurius encouraged a regional bishop to concede to the abbey’s complaints. In 1080, the bishop of Ariano, Meinardus (c. 1069- c.

578 I follow a similar approach in chapter four of this dissertation, where I discuss the twelfth-century Chronicon Vulturnense. For more on this view of truth vs. falsehood in chronicles and how to approach matters related to interpolation in cartularies, see Bouchard, Rewriting, ch. 2. 579 The loss of property is owed to a number of factors, including the expansion of Byzantine power throughout Apulia in the tenth century as well as the arrival of the Normans in the eleventh. For more, see Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 280- 1. 161

1080), swore to no longer demand services or dues from the church of Sant’Angelo in Ariano, a dependency of Santa Sofia.580 Bishop Meinardus confessed his wrongdoing and promised to never again act in illicitis actibus on account of the love he had for God and for St Mercurius and all the other saints who rested in the monastery.581 The praeceptum attests to the increasing pressure faced by the abbey as the political landscape of the region surrounding Benevento changed, in part due to the arrival of the Normans and the simultaneous consolidation of episcopal authority in regions claimed by the Norman lords. In response to this pressure, the abbey capitalized on its reputation as the guardian of Mercurius’ relics.

Meinardus’ diocese of Ariano was one of the earliest Norman settlements in southern Italy, although it is unclear how important the territory was for the Normans who settled in this area during the first half of the eleventh century, when they still (at least nominally) submitted to the

Byzantine emperor.582 However, by the late eleventh century, Ariano had become a part of the wider move to consolidate diocesan networks of power in the region surrounding Benevento. Meinardus was likely one of the earliest bishops of Ariano, because there is no record of a bishop there before 1038.583 His appointment seems to have more or less coincided with that of a

Norman count of Ariano around the same time.584 There is even reason to suspect that he was from Poitiers and thus could have been appointed to the see by one of the early Norman counts of Ariano.585 Meinardus is also mentioned in documents that record transactions between the

580 CSS, 2:703-705. For Meinardus, see Kehr, Italia Pontificia, 9:137 and Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 3:212-8. Meinardus is also depicted on the bronze doors of the Cathedral of Benevento. See Bloch, Montecassino in the Middle Ages, 1:120. For more on Ariano, see T. Vitale, Storia della regia città di Ariano è sua diocesi (Bologna: Forni Editore, 1894); See also Chron. Cas., bk. 3, ch. 29, p. 399. 581 CSS, 2:704: “ob amore Dei et Sancti Mercurii cunctorumque sanctorum qui in predicto monasterio requiescunt, cum iustum sit ab iniquitate recedere et ad emendantiam tendere.” 582 The Normans settled in Ariano as early as 1019 but the first known Norman count of Ariano, Ubbertus, settled there before 1047. Loud, Latin Church, 60-2; CSS, 2:756. The comital family of Ariano were among the most powerful in southern Italy. Throughout the CSS, there is a clear focus on donation charters from them. For more, see Loud, “The Medieval Records of the Monastery of St Sofia,” 368. For an index of charters related to Ariano, see Loud, Latin Church, 37-8. 583 Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 10:213; A. Pratesi, “‘Chartae rescriptae’ del secolo XI provenienti di Ariano Irpino,” Bullettino dell’istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo 68 (1956): 165-202. Document no. 2, shows the earliest evidence of the presence of a bishop at Ariano. 584 Loud, Latin Church, 62. 585 Ughelli claimed that Meinardus was from Padua based on an inscription found on a baptismal font commissioned by Meinardus for his cathedral in Ariano (Italia Sacra, 10:213). However, according to T. Vitale, Ughelli misread pictavii for patavii. The inscription is printed in Vitale, Storia della regia citta di Ariano e sua diocesi (Rome: Stampa Salomoni, 1794), 192-3 and in Italia Sacra, 10:213. The line in question reads in Vitale: “Hos fontes sacros huc ad baptismatis usus/huic praesul sanctae meinardus contulit almae/pictavii natus clarisq[ue] parentibus ortus.” 162

Norman Count Girardus and Santa Sofia.586 Even though the abbey had received papal confirmations of its independence from episcopal lordships through the eleventh century, it seems that by the 1080s, Santa Sofia still had to navigate its relationship with bishops like Meinardus in the process. When reasserting its claim over dependant communities like Sant’Angelo, devotion to Mercurius proved a useful tool for the abbey in negotiating its authority.

Encoded in the mention of Mercurius in the charter are the messages contained in the Translatio, which describes the eighth century yet speaks powerfully to a twelfth-century audience. In the text, the bishop of Benevento played a decisive role in the discovery of Mercurius’ relics. Not only is the bishop the recipient of the divine revelation, he also helps Prince Arichis carry the relics into the city and inter them within Santa Sofia. Despite this important role, throughout the Translatio the bishop curiously remains anonymous. As a contrast, we should consider the ninth- century Translatio S. Januarii, a version of which is also copied in BC 1. Here, the bishop of Benevento, Gutto, performs a very similar role and is named on several occasions by the author.587 It is likely that the author/copyist of Mercurius’ Translatio knew the Translatio S. Januarii. For one, the Translatio S. Januarii appears in the same manuscript as the Translatio S. Mercurii (BC 1). Further, the Translatio S. Januarii, dated to the ninth century, was a legend of Benevento’s past and was probably widely circulated through the city both orally and through liturgical manuscripts. Therefore, if the author of the Translatio S. Merucrii was familiar with the Translatio S. Januarii, and we see some of the same themes echoed in the former, we might expect the Translatio S. Mercurii to have included a similar identification of the bishop. Of course, there are many reasons why the eleventh- or twelfth-century author/copyist of the

586 Meinardus also appears in a 1079 cartula oblationis with Count Girardus of Ariano granting Santa Sofia rights to the churches in their castellum. See CSS, 2:715-6. 587 Translatio SS. Januarii, Festi et Desiderii, 889-891. The manuscripts containing this Translatio are late. The earliest of these is BC 1, ff. 195v-200. See Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:111-121; Poncelet, Catalogus codicum hagiographicorum latinorum bibliothecae Vaticanae (Brussels: Société des Bollandistes, 1910), 169. A reference to the Translatio appears as early as 832 on the epitaph of Prince Sico. Epitaphium Siconis principis, ed. E. Dümmler, in MGH Antiquitates, Poetae Latini medii aevi 2, (Berlin: Weidmann, 1884), pp. 649-51. A photograph of the epitaph can be found in Angelo Silvagni, Monumenta epigraphica christiana saeculo XIII antiquiora quae in Italiae finibus adhuc extant (Vatican City: Pontificium Institutum Archaeologiae Christianae, 1943), vol. 4, fasc. 2, Beneventum, tab. 3. For a detailed analysis of the epitaph as well as other epitaphs composed during the Sician dynasty, see Anderson, “Historical Memory,” 67-75; Gray, “The Paleography of Latin Inscriptions in the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Centuries in Italy,” 123-39. The Translatio S. Januarii has a similar bridge scene to the one in the Translatio S. Mercurii. 163

Translatio S. Mercurii chose to keep the bishop’s identity anonymous. One possibility, however, might be ruled out. That is, it is unlikely that the individual responsible for the inclusion of the Translatio S. Mercurii in BC 1 did not know or at least have access to the identity of the eighth- century bishop of Benevento, if BC 1 was indeed created in Santa Sofia. The Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae contains a 769 praeceptum confirmationis in which Prince Arichis II and the bishop of Benevento, venerabilis Iohannis, together granted absolution to the church of Santa Maria and

San Marciani.588 Since Bishop John was attested in the Chronicon, it may be more reasonable to suggest that the bishop was intentionally left anonymous in the Translatio S. Mercurii to emphasize the role of Arichis.

Here, we have a case where forgetting may have been just as powerful as remembering. In the text, the bishop was kept in a secondary role behind the prince and Santa Sofia. The bishop acted as a loyal and helpful subject of Arichis. He is the recipient of Mercurius’ divine revelation and aids in the discovery of the relics. Most significantly, the bishop facilitates the bonds between the temporal power and Santa Sofia. The role of the anonymous bishop in the Translatio was a useful tool to reflect and reinforce the relationship between the abbey and the ecclesiastical and temporal authorities in and around Benevento.589 The most important bond in the Translatio was not between the bishop and the prince but between the prince and the abbey. By stripping the bishop of his identity, the audience focused only on his actions, which provide an instructional blueprint for contemporary audiences. The bishop and, implicitly, his cathedral are secondary to the abbey of Santa Sofia. In this way, the Translatio provided a model for the relationship between the abbey and ecclesiastical leaders surrounding it. This model was fundamentally beneficial for the abbey, but it highlighted the bond between the abbey and the bishops of Benevento, who would be blessed by Mercurius as they supported the abbey. This relationship is reinforced elsewhere in the Chronicon where donations made to Santa Sofia by the archbishop of Benevento in the late eleventh and early twelfth century underline that the abbey benefitted from

588 CSS, 2:515-6: “Firmamus nos domnus vir gloriosissimus Aricis summus dux genti Langobardorum, per rogum Arnoaldi abbati nostro, absolutionem ecclesie Beate Sancte Dei genetricis Marie et Sancti Marciani quem quoddam Garohin abbas a novo fundamine edificare visus fuit in locus qui dicitur ad Pletta, secundum qualiter per suum membranum firmitatis absolutionis quas Iohannes venerabilis episcopus sancte sedis ecclesie nostre Beneventane predicti Garohin a suo anulo sigillato emisit. . .” There are several copies of this document. See also, Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 8:26. 589 Certainly, this message would have been relevant and in keeping with Arichis’ relationship with Beneventan ecclesiastics in the eighth century. Gyug, “Du rite bénéventain,” 75. 164

the support of the cathedral.590 Just as it was important to preserve the donations and confirmations made to Santa Sofia from the archbishop of Benevento in the Chronicon, so too was it important to reinforce and mold this relationship through hagiographical writings.

A further contributing factor to the representation of the bishop in the Translatio is the flurry of hagiographical narratives produced during the later eleventh and early twelfth century that extolled the virtues and authority of the Beneventan archbishops, which we explored above. It is possible that this attention to the bishop may have boosted the Beneventan cathedral’s reputation in the city while the abbey of Santa Sofia slipped from its former prominence, as argued by Kelly. Yet, the continuous attention to the abbey’s royal patron, Prince Arichis, and its saintly patron, Mercurius, demonstrates that, in reality, the abbey’s historic association with the Lombard princes was not forgotten after all. If, as there is good reason to believe, Santa Sofia was the principal promoter of the cult of St Mercurius in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, it seems that at the same time as the Beneventan cathedral grew in significance and authority, the abbey of Santa Sofia utilized its prestigious past in order to maintain its position within Benevento. While the Beneventan archbishops and the abbey of Santa Sofia appear to have had an amicable relationship throughout the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the simultaneous promotion of historic relic cults in each institution may indicate that there was some level of competition between the abbey and the cathedral, as their statuses in the ecclesiastical hierarchy of Benevento underwent a period of change.591 Further evidence of this competition comes in the hymn dedicated to St Mercurius, composed by Archbishop Landulf II (1108-1119).592 Here, the cathedral, while extolling the virtues of the Lombard past, may have been co-opting the abbey’s patron saint. At this time, as discussed, the cathedral was powerful and backed by the support of the pope. As Santa Sofia copied its saints in liturgical records for institutions across Benevento,

590 For example, see CSS, 2:690-2 and 759-62, demonstrates the working relationship between Madelmus and Archbishop Roffredus of Benevento. 591 Though by the eleventh century, confirmations made by Santa Sofia stress its independence from episcopal interferences, the archbishop appears in several confirmations made to the abbey through the course of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. In these, the archbishop acts as a patron of the abbey, reinforcing its rights over landed possessions in Benevento. For an example in which Santa Sofia’s independence is confirmed, see the confirmation made by Otto I in 983, in CSS, 2:613-4 and the 1022 privilege from Benedict VIII in CSS, 2:616-8. As a sign of the working relationship between Santa Sofia and the archdiocese, see the document from 1075, in which Archbishop Milo of Benevento judged against the bishop of Dragonara in favor of Santa Sofia’s rights over two churches. See CSS, 2:683-4. 592 Held now in the Veroli manuscript. See Giovardi, ed., Acta, 32-45. 165

it may have been a defensive posture on the part of the monastery versus the archbishops.593 Thus, the correlation between the promotion of ancient episcopal saints, like Bartholomew and Barbatus, as well as those associated specifically with Santa Sofia during the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries reveals a complex relationship between the abbey and the archbishop of Benevento. Here, the abbey benefited from the patronage of the episcopacy, which represented a potential source of protection and support. However, the abbey may also have felt the need to articulate its position within Benevento with a growing attention to the archbishop’s central role in the ecclesiastical administration of Benevento.

Equally as provocative is the model that the anonymous bishop of the Mercurius tale provided for ecclesiastical authorities surrounding Santa Sofia in the twelfth century, such as Bishop Meinardus who may have focused their aspirations on the abbey’s property. The Translatio supported the sense of a historical order within Benevento in which the abbey and the city’s highest leading officials governed the spiritual well-being of the city. The bishop, anonymous as he was, became a malleable identity who could provide a blueprint for the relationship between the abbey and its neighbors.

6.2 Cartula concessionis, 1082

In addition to dealing with bishops eager to claim their own jurisdiction, Santa Sofia also used the discovery of Mercurius’ relics, expressed conjointly in the Translatio and the Chronicon, to reflect its position within the unique political structure of Benevento in the late eleventh and early twelfth century. Here, the Chronicon provides evidence that Santa Sofia used its status as an ancient monastery, founded by the first Lombard prince, and endowed with the divine protection of St Mercurius, to solicit the patronage of local Beneventan leaders, like Dacomarius and the papally appointed rectors of the late eleventh century.

Stephanus schuldahis was the rector of Benevento in 1082 when, together with Dacomarius, he granted land within Benevento to Abbot Madelmus of Santa Sofia.594 A cartula concessionis in the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae records that on August 26, the feast of the translation of St

593 My thanks to Professor Richard Gyug for pointing out this important distinction as well as providing helpful feedback on a preliminary version of this chapter. 594 Schuldahis was a traditionally Lombard title of authority. See Oldfield, City and Community, 24. 166

Mercurius, a large crowd of nobles and citizens of Benevento gathered around Santa Sofia, “where the body of the saint rested.” The document is written from Stephanus’ perspective and portrays a vivid memory of a communal celebration surrounding the abbey. Stephanus’ recollection of the event is worth quoting:

During the celebration of the solemnity of the translation of Blessed Mercurius, I Stephanus, the rector of Benevento, gathered with a great crowd of Beneventan nobles and other men of good standing in the church where Mercurius’ holy body lay, that is within the walls of the monastery of Santa Sofia. Then, the lord Madelmus, the distinguished abbot of this monastery, who was surrounded by ranks of good and spiritual men, warned us to reject the slippery slope of luxury and beseeched us instead to turn all our efforts to the love of God.595 He began assiduously to implore that on behalf of our love for God and for the health of our patria and for our own salvation we should consider donating to the monastery of Santa Sofia a plot of land within the city, which now is joined to the rear wall of the monastery, on the part known as Caballus, where they would build a small hospice for the respite of monks. Then, I, Stephanus the rector, hearing these things, began to ask each and every citizen who was present at this meeting whether they intended to consent to or deny the requests of the abbot. Meanwhile, it came to memory that St Mercurius entered into this city in the translation of his holy body. We also recalled how many and how great the gifts were that had been born by the most benevolent prince of this patria and those loyal to him. When the people heard this, they were enkindled with love for God and all the saints who lay to rest in the monastery, and they happily agreed that the abbot’s petition be granted. They beseeched me and Dacomarius, whom the highest power placed in command of this good city, that we assent to such a worthy request.596

This document places Santa Sofia as the center of a celebration of Benevento’s past. Importantly, those gathered in the abbey were not only members of the Church but also members of the laity.

595 By the twelfth century, Santa Sofia numbered around fifty monks, according to Falco of Benevento. See Falco, Chronicon Beneventanum, 182 and Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 294. 596 CSS, 2:745-6: “dum ad celebrandam sollempnitatem Beati Mercurii ego Stephanus schuldahis cum magno coetu Beneventanorum nobilium et aliorum bonorum hominum astitissem in ecclesia in illa in qua sacrum corpus eius decenter locatum est, scilicet infra claustra cenobii Sancte Sophie, tunc domnus Madelmus egregius abbas ipsius monasterii circumseptus spiritualium virorum bonorum ordinibus, inter salutaria verba que proferebat monendo nos spernere lubricos luxus seculi et totis viribus amare Dominum, cepit nos anxie obsecrare quatinus pro amore Dei et salute huius patrie ac salvatione animarum nostrarum concederemus sibi ad partem ipsius monasterii placeo illa publica que nunc videtur esse retro iunctaque pariei claustre prephati monasterii a parte loci Cabbali nomine. Igitur ego ipse Stephanus sculdahis, hos audiens, explorare omnium astantium civium mentes cepi, cognoscere cupiens utrum concedere an resistere tante petitioni presumpsissent. Interea ad memoriam ducitur quod beatus Mercurius in translationem sacri sui corporis in hac urbe egerit et que et quanta et qualia xenia a benignissimo principe huius patrie et eius sodalibus sibi fuerint oblata. Libenter optabat iuxta petitionem prephati abbatis fieri, cogendo quidem et obsecrando me et Dacomarium quem summa potestas prefecit ad gubernandum una mecum rem publicam et populus huius urbis in tali bono proposito assensum prebere.” 167

The scene here is similar to that found in the Translatio where the administration of Benevento, made up of temporal and ecclesiastical leadership, gathered around the abbot and monks of Santa Sofia as the spiritual epicenter of the city. The decision of the crowd to grant Madelmus’ request hinged on their love for Mercurius and their memory of Prince Arichis and his companions, the former Lombard administration. Although there was no longer a Lombard prince since Benevento had already submitted to Rome, Arichis’ memory is nevertheless invoked alongside Mercurius’ as is the past that these figures represented. The abbey’s use of Mercurius and Arichis here aligned the Beneventan nobility with the prince. In giving like a prince, the nobility was granted legitimacy and prestige. As the recipient of their gifts, the legitimacy and prestige of the abbey was simultaneously reinforced.

It is also noteworthy that, while Arichis II is invoked, his name is not mentioned. It is as if the two figures, Mercurius and Arichis, were so intertwined in the history of the city that there was no need to mention Arichis by any other name than princeps huius patriae. Further, it is worth noticing another absence in this text: there is no mention of the archbishop of Benevento, perhaps reiterating a similar ambivalence to his role in such transactions as found in the Translatio. The archbishop also does not number among those deciding citizens of Benevento. Here, it is Dacomarius and Stephanus who have been placed in charge of the city, perhaps implicating again that there was some competition between the abbey and the episcopal leaders of Benevento.

Thus, this document also provides evidence for the influence of local officials in the administration of Benevento and how Santa Sofia used the memory of Mercurius and Prince Arichis to negotiate its relationship with these leaders. Importantly, the privilege shows that the citizens of Benevento acted together, led by local officials free from outside interference. While Stephanus was the papally appointed rector of Benevento, at no point did he mention the pope in this appeal to the citizens of Benevento.597 Even though Santa Sofia was under the direct submission to Rome at the time and even benefitted from that status in its ongoing trial with Montecassino, it profited from the patronage of Beneventan nobles like Dacomarius, who at

597 The reigning pope at the time was Gregory VII. The Chronicon contains no privilege from Victor III. The only mention of his papacy is in the Annales. See CSS, 1:248. His absence from the Chronicon is curious. It may be a product of the ongoing feud with Montecassino. 168

times governed Benevento outside of the authority of the pope.598 Here, rather than align itself with Rome, the abbey curated its identity within the governing system of Benevento through the memory of the Lombard prince and his saint. 1082, the year in which the celebration took place, was less than a decade after the last hereditary Lombard prince, Landulf VI, submitted Benevento to Rome. As mentioned, Dacomarius was likely a former members of Landulf VI’s court and, although he was appointed as papal rector, Stephanus himself had also been connected to the court of Landulf VI.599 This scene of local governance portrays that Benevento maintained to a great extent its local heritage, infrastructure, and identity as the traditional seat of Lombard power.

It is significant that the Beneventan nobility was inspired to grant land to Santa Sofia on the feast of Mercurius’ translatio on 26 August. First, it shows us that the feast was central not only to Santa Sofia but also to the entire city of Benevento. Second, it is worth noticing that this event took place in the late eleventh century, when the feast of the Translatio appears with consistency in liturgical calendars. Therefore, the 1082 cartula may be reflective of an early phase of the promotion or bolstering of Mercurius’ cult, if indeed he did not have a thriving cult before this period.600 The cartula takes on a deeper significance when seen as a rare example of one way in which the Translatio was used by the abbey. It is unclear what Stephanus meant when he wrote that the translatio of Mercurius’ holy body came to memory (ad memoriam ducitur), a phrase we have seen already in the Vita S. Pardi. Did he mean to imply that the memory of the blessed saint spontaneously was recalled by the crowd? Or, since it was the feast of the translation, did he indicate that some version of the Translatio S. Mercurii was read or recited to those present? If the second scenario is correct, then this also shows that the Translatio was used in a versatile manner, not only for monastic audiences during Matins but possibly also for a wider lay reception.

598 Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 277. 599 Oldfield, City and Community, 24-5; CSS, 2:684, in which Stephanus sculdahis is listed as a nobleman of Benevento, associated with the court of Landulf VI. 600 CSS, 2:745. Copies of the charter include, besides for that held in Vat. lat. 4939, fol. 195r-196v, Benevento, Museo del Sannio, cod. 42 (ex 15), f. 157v-159v; Paris Lat. 5410, f. 321r-324r; Naples, Biblioteca Società Napoletana di Storia Patria, cod. XXIII B 12, f. 92v-93v. 169

In addition to this, the 1082 cartula may provide evidence that the abbey was in the process of composing some version of the text, or working off an earlier original. It is possible that Stephanus and those present during the 1082 celebration heard the version held in BC 1, since the manuscript is dated to the late eleventh or early twelfth century. These possibilities, of course, cannot be proven unequivocally. In either case, it shows the continued significance of Mercurius’ relics and how the memory of his discovery was used to suit the needs of a contemporary audience. Here the discovery and translation of Mercurius served not only to glorify God, a fifth-century martyr and an eighth-century prince; it served also to celebrate the abbey and to strengthen its standing in the twelfth century.

6.3 Praeceptum confirmationis, 1092

A third example of the reconstruction of the memory of St Mercurius in late eleventh-century Santa Sofia within the Chronicon pertains to the ongoing feud with Montecassino, the timing of which overlapped with the compilation of the Chronicon and the transmission of the Translatio in BC 1. Here, the abbey’s connection with Rome is brought to the fore, since it was through papal confirmations that the abbey maintained a historic sense of its independence. Whereas Stephanus’ 1082 document revealed Santa Sofia’s ties with local authorities, others show that while it left Rome out of certain situations, it appealed to its bond with the pope in others. Specifically, the Chronicon shows that the memory of St Mercurius was invoked as the abbey reiterated its submission to Rome and, in doing so, claimed independence from Montecassino. For instance, in a document dated to 1092, Pope Urban II confirmed Santa Sofia’s direct dependence on Rome.601 Urban II’s confirmation was accompanied by a gift of liturgical vestments to Abbot Madelmus. The gloves and shoes given by Urban II were to be worn on five occasions throughout the year: the Resurrection, Pentecost, , the solemnity of the

Twelve Brothers, and on the solemnities of St Mercurius, 25 November and 26 August.602 To

601 CSS, 2:630-636: “Tuis igitur karissime fili Maldelme, iustis petitionibus annuentes, Beate Sophie cenobium, cui Dei auctore presidere cognosceris, sub tutela et iuris dicione sedis apostolice sicut actenus manis perpetuo permanere presentis pagine auctoritate sancimus, ut soli Romane ecclesie subditum ab omnium ecclesiarum sub personarum iugo liberum habeatur.” The miniature is on fol. 145v of Vatican City, BAV, Vat. Lat. 4939. 602 CSS, 2:633: “Tibi vero, quem propensiore caritate complectimur, ex apostolice sedis peculiari benignitate id muneris personaliter indulgemus ut per annum quinquies, id est in die sancto Resurrectionis et Pentecostes et Natalis dominici et sollempnitates sanctorum Duodecim Fratrum hac sancti Mercurii, ad missarum tantum sollempnia cyrotegis et campagis utaris.” On the original privilege, held in Archivio Aldobrandini, Doc. stor. Abbadie, I, 27,

170

signify the importance of the document, a miniature depicting Urban II handing the praeceptum to Abbot Madelmus decorates the margin of the folio. This image freezes the action in time and space and thus preserves the impact of the donation, making it ever-immediate and ever- authoritative. Similarly, through the use of the liturgical treasures granted by the pope, the document emphasizes the status of the abbey (dependant only on Rome) on its principal feast days, including the celebration of Mercurius and the Twelve Holy Brothers. Here, the memory of the abbey’s prestigious past fused with its contemporary connection to Rome.

The preservation of Urban II’s praeceptum was especially significant because during the period in which the Chronicon was compiled, Montecassino’s efforts to claim Santa Sofia’s dependency had intensified. For instance, Leo Marsicanus’ Breviatio de monasterio S. Sophiae in Benevento, composed around 1098, records how in the decades leading up to the twelfth century, Leo himself appealed to none other than Urban II for support in Montecassino’s case, perhaps in response to Urban II’s 1092 praeceptum to Santa Sofia.603 This, as mentioned, was one catalyst for the compilation of the Chronicon.604 The early phase of work on the Chronicon also correlates with the years of Abbot Madelmus’ abbacy (1075-1103). It appears that Madelmus was a prominent voice in the defense of Santa Sofia against Montecassino as well as an ardent promoter of Mercurius’ cult, since he appears in every charter in which Mercurius’ patronage over the abbey is invoked.

In the Breviatio, Leo wrote that he was able to gain nothing from his pleas to the pope until 1097, when Urban II issued a privilege in which he listed Santa Sofia as a dependency of

Mercurius’ feast day is the only one out of the five celebrations to be written in capitals. An edition of the original is in CSS, 2:636-7. On the Aldobrandini charters of Santa Sofia, see Loud, “Medieval Records of the Monastery of St Sofia, Benevento,” ch. 4 and A. Pratesi, Carte latine di abbazie calabresi provenienti dall’Archivio Aldobrandini (Vatican City: Biblioteca apostolica vaticana, 1958); It was not uncustomary for Popes to grant liturgical vestments to abbots, especially for use during the consecration of churches. See Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 36-7; S. Schoenig, Bonds of Wool: the and Papal Power in the Middle Ages (Washington, D.C.: The University of America Press, 2016). 603 Leo Marsicanus, Breviatio de monasterio S. Sophiae, ed. E. Gattola, in Historia Abbate Casinensis 1:54-6. Leo is vague on the events leading up to the late eleventh century, when Montecassino seems to have taken up its cause with strength: “Post haec licet nos ignoremus qualiter vel quo tempore idem monasterium a nobis defecerit.” See further, Block, Montecassino in the Middle Ages, 1:269-71. 604 Among the portions compiled in the late eleventh century was the long (possibly interpolated) donation by Arichis II. See Martin, “La storia di Santa Sofia,” in CSS, 1:60-4. 171

Montecassino.605 According to Leo’s account, Abbot Madelmus was angered by this and approached Urban II during a visit to Benevento in 1098. Urban II implored Abbot Madelmus to resolve the issue at the forthcoming Council of Bari: “Because I have long suffered your complaints against the brothers of Montecassino, Abbot, it is undoubtedly time that you respond to them regarding their case.”606 Despite Urban’s request, the abbot of Santa Sofia did not send any response to the council of Bari. Instead, Archbishop Roffredus of Benevento reported that Anso, Dacomarius’ son and the “lord” of Benevento, had refused to send a letter in response to

Montecassino’s claims.607 According to Leo, Urban was so angered by this he was moved to admit the just cause of Montecassino. Of course, we must take this account with some caution, since it was composed by Montecassino’s own historian and most vocal champion.

In the end, the matter was never resolved, at least not in favor of Montecassino. Even after Urban II wrote to Anso and asked for some response regarding the dispute, there was still no definitive answer sent to Rome.608 Urban II died in 1099 and Anso was expelled from Benevento in 1101 by Roger Borsa, who had intended to help the newly enthroned Pope Paschal II regain control of the city from local officials like Anso. Thus, it was up to the abbey to preserve its position.609 Placed within the Chronicon, Urban II’s praeceptum challenged any assault to its status in the late eleventh century through the memory of Mercurius, whose feast day from that point on also commemorated the close, if not idealized, bond the abbey enjoyed with Rome as well as celebrated the autonomy of Santa Sofia from the time of its foundation.

As we have seen, other documents show that the abbey acknowledged the importance of local authorities, like Dacomarius and Stephanus, for whom the recollection of Arichis II and St Mercurius represented a prestigious and powerful past, regardless of any ties with Rome. In

605 JL 5681; the privilege is printed in Gattola, Historia, 1: 149-151. For a list of Montecassino dependencies extracted from this privilege, see Bloch, Montecassino in the Middle Ages, 2:665. For clear reasons, this privilege is not mentioned in the CSS. 606 Leo Marsicanus, Breviatio, 54: “Tum Papa nequauquam hoc inquit inter vos covenit, sed quoniam iamdiu est, Abba, quod querelas fratrum Cassinentium pacior, proculdubio oportebit te illis super hac respondere.” 607 Leo Marsicanus, Breviatio, 55: “Papa iussit abbati, ut surget, et rationem suam de his coram omnibus redderet. Tunc ex summissione abbatis surrexit Archiepiscopus Beneventanus, cepit ostendera imparatum super hoc negocio abbatem venisse, seque neque posset, neque andere racionem de his nisi, apud Beneventanum aliquatenus reddere dicentes se a domne civitatis prohibitos esse, si cogeret, Beneventanum si amissurum procul dubio scire.” 608 The letter is included in Leo’s Breviatio, 55; See also Kehr, Italia Pontificia, 9:25. 609 Further attempts were made by Montecassino in the first quarter of the twelfth century. See Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 280. 172

examples like the 1092 praeceptum, the abbey utilized the same history to articulate its relationship with a different authority: the pope. By emphasizing support from the papacy, Santa Sofia also implicated its standing relative to the archbishops of Benevento, who were also connected to papal authority. These messages were also implicitly held within the Translatio S. Mercurii. The timing of the Chronicon, compiled between 1098 and 1119, and the transmission of the Translatio suggests that these two sources functioned in harmony to confirm and enforce the status of the abbey.

6.4 Privilegium, 1092

The last context considered here is the growing power of the Norman lords in the region surrounding Benevento and the impact their presence had on Santa Sofia. Although the abbey faced threats to its properties outside Benevento from the administrative changes brought on by the Norman conquests, it also stood to gain from the piety of these new lords. As a result of the Norman presence as well as the influence of Gregorian reforms, which brought an influx of donations to monasteries from the laity, the abbey of Santa Sofia experienced a period of growth and change between the late eleventh and early twelfth century.610 The Chronicon Sanctae

Sophiae records nine donations of castella by Norman lords. 611 Among these, a privilege dated to 1092 will be our final focus in this chapter. In this donation a nobleman related to the counts of Molise, named Robertus de Principatu, granted the castellum of Toro (Campobasso). The document itself may be a later addition to the Chronicon, possibly incorporated sometime in the

1120s.612 In the privilege, Robertus granted the land of Toro to Abbot Madelmus in the presence

610 On the impact of the Gregorian reforms on lay donations of proprietary churches to abbeys, see Ramseyer, Transformation, ch. 1. 611 The first of these was donated in 1065 by Robert Guiscard who gave the monastery the castellum called Ripe Longe “pro anima mea et anima parentum meorum”: CSS, 2:707; Loud, “Lombard Abbey,” 282. 612 Martin argued that this document was added to the cartulary at a later date. Jamison also noted that the document is open to suspicion, but gave no further explanation. See Jamison, “The Administration of the County of Molise in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries,” 542, n. 8. It is nearly identical to an 1124 privilege, which is now preserved in a 1270 copy in the Museo del Sannio, Fondo di S. Sofia XII, 41. Martin supports its falsity based on the absence of Toro in any list of Santa Sofia properties until the 1131 privilege of Anacletus II (CSS, 2:654-62). For his arguments, see CSS, 2:670-1, n.16. If the actual donation was made in 1124, this would have been almost two decades after Abbot Madelmus ended his career as abbot in 1107, as explained in the Annales (CSS, 1:245). It is possible that the 1092 privilege was added around the same time that the 1124 privilege of Toro was composed and the later scribe used Madelmus’ apparent reputation for negotiations with neighboring lords to lend authenticity to the document. 173

of members of the feudal family of Molise.613 Significantly, the transaction took place before the altar of St Mercurius in Santa Sofia and was transcribed by a Falco notario scribe sancti

Beneventani palacii. 614 Here, the scene is similar to the public donation made by Stephanus the rector. Within the abbey, the altar of Mercurius and the memory of his translatio served as a powerfully present memory of the abbey’s elevated status. The altar provided, therefore, a model of patronage for the lords of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, be they temporal or ecclesiastical (as in the case of Bishop Meinardus of Ariano), natives of Benevento or established elsewhere.

While scholars have long held that there is little evidence for Norman lords encouraging the support of particularly “Norman” saints in southern Italy, Mercurius might be an exception.615 It appears that St Mercurius’ reputation as a Byzantine had at some point spread to Normandy. Mercurius appears in the Gesta Francorum et aliorum Hierosolimitanorum, a chronicle of the first crusade written by an anonymous author around the beginning of the twelfth century. Later, Orderic Vitalis copied this information about Mercurius from the Gesta within his Historia Ecclesiastica, written in Normandy between 1114 and 1141. According to these historians, during the siege of Antioch in 1098, the crusaders went into battle against a Muslim army. Nearly defeated by the Muslims, the crusaders were aided by three warrior saints, including Mercurius:

613 CSS, 2:667-671. The Robertus indicated in this charter is Robertus f. Tristayni, the lord of the castrum Limosano, in Campobasso which lay about ninety kilometers northeast of Benevento. See CSS, 2:670. The Chron. Cas. also includes two mentions of Robertus f. Trosteni. The first reports that he was a member of Bohemond’s retinue: “Mox Bohemandus ad sua regressus ad prefatum iter aggrediendum se preparavit. Perrexerunt autum cum eo capitanei hi: Tancredus Marchisii filii, Robbertus filius Girardi, Richardus de Principatu et Rainulfus frater eius, Robertus de Ansa, Hermanus de Cannis, Robertus de Surda valle, Robertus filius Trosteni . . .” In this passage, Hoffman has identified Robertus f. Trosteni as the grandson or nephew of Robert II, count of Molise. See Chron. Cas., bk. 4, ch. 11, p. 477. In the second mention, Robertus f. Trosteni is said to have donated the church of Santa Illuminata to Montecassino in June 1109: “Sed et Johannes Triventinae sedis episcopus una cum Roberto filio Tristayni Limessani castri domino, optulit huic loco ecclesiam S. Illuminatae infra fines praedicti castri Limesani.” See Chron. Cas., bk. 4, ch. 32-4, p. 499. See also, Bloch, Montecassino in the Middle Ages, 1:427. On his relation to the counts of Molise, see E. Cuozzo ed., Catalogus Baronum. Commentario (Roma: Istituto Storico Italiano, 1984), ch. 804, p. 219 and E. Jamison, “I conti di Molise e di Marsia nei secoli XII e XIII” in Convegno storico abruzzese-molisano. 25-29 marzo 1931, Atti e memorie (Casalbordino: Nicola de Arcangelis, 1932), 1:88 and “The administration of the county Molise in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,” English Historical Review 44, no. 176 (1929): 1-34 and 47, no. 177 (1930): 1-30. Cuozzo and Jamison agree that Robertus f. Trostayni was the nephew of Rodolfus II of Molise. 614 CSS, 2:667-669: “Qua propter bona mea voluntate, in presentia Iohannis et Landulfi iudicum et Roaine generi mei et Ugonis Abalierii et Iohannis Guarini et Roberti de Minianello et aliorum bonorum hominum, per librum quem mani accepi obtuli Deo et in predicto monasterio super altare beati Mercurii martyris pro salute anime mee et prefati mei genitoris totum castrum cum omni hominibus et omnibus suis pertinentiis et teritoriis. . .” Also: “Et tibi Falconi notario scribe sacri Beneventani palacii taliter scribere precepi. Actum intra idem monasterium. Feliciter.” 615 Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery”; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 59-60. 174

Then also appeared from the mountains a countless host of men on white horses, whose banners were all white. When our men saw this, they did not understand what was happening or who these men might be, until they realized that this was the succor sent by Christ, and that the leaders were St George, St Mercurius, and St Demetrius. This is quite true, for many of our men saw it.616

While St George and St Demetrius appear to have had cults in Normandy by the late eleventh century, the awareness of St Mercurius and the development of his cult outside southern Italy and Byzantium is less clear.617 In both accounts, Mercurius’ patronage is associated with protecting the Latin crusaders. Therefore, it is possible that awareness of Mercurius’ cult came to the Normans as crusading armies passed through southern Italy and were exposed to his widespread cult there, including through the celebration of the liturgy. Therefore, by the first quarter of the twelfth century, Mercurius’ relics may have served as a meeting point for the community of Santa Sofia and the new Norman lords of Campania. Indeed, this cultural intersection may also have been a relevant factor in the late eleventh-century praeceptum made by Bishop Meinardus discussed above. While far from establishing proof of a pattern, these two documents demonstrate a Normanno-French awareness of Mercurius’ cult in southern Italy.618 At the least, an awareness of St Mercurius in Normandy by the twelfth century should, perhaps, contribute to the growing skepticism among scholars regarding the existence of a distinct

Norman identity by this period in southern Italy.619 It should also support the sense that there was a great deal of interaction and exchange between Norman settlers and the communities of southern Italy. While the origins of Mercurius’ reputation in Normandy is unclear, perhaps the abbey of Santa Sofia utilized his apparently widespread saintly reputation in an attempt to align the power of new regional lordships with that of an ancient military saint, known to have been

616 The Deeds of the Franks and the Other Pilgrims to Jerusalem, ed. and trans. R. Hill (London: T. Nelson, 1962), 69. The legend is repeated in Orderic Vitalis, The Ecclesiastical History of England and Normandy, ed. and trans. Marjorie Chibnall (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), 3:114-5. On Orderic and St Mercurius see V. Gazeau, “Orderic Vitalis and the Cult of Saints,” in Orderic Vitalis: Life, Work, and Interpretations, eds. C. Rozier, D. Roach, G.E.M. Gasper & E.Van Houts (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2016), 172-88, at 183-4.

617 Gazeau, “Orderic Vitalis and the Cult of Saints,” 177-8. As J. MacGregor has shown, Mercurius does not appear in every account of the battle of Antioch, so there seems to have been misgivings about his presence along with George and Demetrius. See MacGregor, “Negotiating Knightly Piety: The Cult of the Warrior-Saints in the West, ca. 1070- ca. 1200,” Church History 73.2 (2004): 317-45, at 324-32. 618 Scholars have long appreciated the Norman devotion to St Michael the Archangel. In fact, Norman devotion to St Michael is cited as one of the reasons for Norman migration to southern Italy, as pilgrims from Normandy travelled to Apulia to venerate the shrine of St Michael on Monte Gargano. See Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 52. 619 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 60. 175

tied to the Lombard authorities of the past, like Arichis II, and protector of the Latin crusaders. Mercurius’ appearance in the historiography of twelfth-century Normandy displays inventiones not only as a vehicle for the formation for identity but also as a vehicle for cultural exchange.

Ultimately, in this period when powerful regional lords fought each other over land and institutions, military saints (and princes) of the past naturally attracted donations. Indeed, with its emphasis on Lombard prowess against Byzantine forces, the Translatio S. Mercurii provided an enticing ideal of temporal authority for the Norman lords, who were in the midst of political negotiation with the Byzantine empire during the early years of their arrival in southern Italy. Here, the abbey used Mercurius’ presence, especially underlined by the Translatio, to reinforce networks of patronage in a similar way as the documents in the Chronicon.

Conclusion

The compiler of the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae did not include every privilege in his codex. He only chose those documents which were the most important for the community.620 It is easy to see why the community of Santa Sofia found value in charters like Stephanus the Rector’s and those from incumbent regional authorities like Robertus and Meinardus. These documents exemplified the ideal relationship between the monastery, the community, and the elite, both those who were new to the region and those who lived as neighbors to the abbey. Between the late eleventh and early twelfth century, the community of Santa Sofia had good reason to preserve such a message. First, the monastery had experienced considerable expansion, making it in some ways vulnerable to the claims of neighboring institutions like Montecassino and prelates like Meinardus. Second, although Benevento remained largely self-governed, this did not exempt the city from turmoil. One need only turn to Falco of Benevento’s Chronicon Beneventanum to realize that the early twelfth century was marked by inter-communal conflict and civil strife brought on by familial rivalries and anti-papal sentiment. In 1119, Falco reports that Archbishop Landulf held a synod to address the state of the war-torn Benevento. Landulf witnessed that “the city had been overcome and divided in every way by the afflictions of those seeking to plunder and that his churches were harassed on a daily basis by robbers.”621 In a time of upheaval and

620 For a list of documents from Santa Sofia, see Loud, “The Medieval Records of the Monastery of St Sofia, Benevento,” 364-373. 621 Falco of Benevento, Chronicon Beneventanum, 42. 176

institutional uncertainty, the documents preserved in the Chronicon function in a similar way to hagiographical sources like the Translatio S. Mercurii. The narrative sources that emerged between the late eleventh and early twelfth century were intended for use at that point, and not in the past. The monastery invoked the memory of the past, of St Mercurius and the very foundation of the monastery by Prince Arichis II in order to strengthen the community’s role in the present, to provide continuity with a prestigious past.

In the Chronicon, the first charters included are those granted by Arichis in the 770s. Although much of the Chronicon is concerned with negotiations of the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries, the events contemporary to the compiler find meaning through their connections to the history of the monastery. Events like the foundation by Arichis and the translation of Mercurius’ relics reverberate in the donations of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Here, the Translatio is given even more complexity with its dual function as both a part of a living archive and its power to echo the sacred liturgy of one of Benevento’s most prominent monastic institutions.

Ultimately, the memory of the discovery and translation of Mercurius’ relics was the memory of an ideal past. In many ways, Arichis was the ideal patron because he granted land, prestige, and the bodies of the saints to the monastery of Santa Sofia. In the text, he is referred to as the nobils heros, who removes his own royal robe and submits his authority to Mercurius. He grants treasures and authority to the saintly patron whose remains he places in the church of Santa

Sofia.622 Therefore, in the Translatio, the memory of Arichis II performs the actions displayed in the charters, a reference to the spiritual centrality of Santa Sofia in Benevento at a time when lay lords did not have the physical presence of a prince to keep them in check. Just as the Translatio is as much informed by the circumstances of the late eleventh and twelfth century, so too are the eighth-century documents held in the Chronicon. Through the memory of Arichis, the author/copyist of the Translatio reinforced a line of continuous saintly protection and worldly favor granted to Santa Sofia, since the time of its foundation, thus also offering institutional continuity and continuous lines of memory. Together, these sources reveal how a community

622 Waitz, ed., Translatio S. Mercurii, 577: “Dum hec geruntur, Arechis nobilis heros, principali ornatu deposito, indutus cilicio, ante corpus martiris humi prosternitur, atque iure ratus, velle sanctum, ut et oblatione munerum bone mentis nitorem pretenderet, ut de purpureis gausapis taceam et telis Phocaico stagmine textis et vasis argento aurove celatis, quibus etiam plurimum decoris extrinsecus margaritae electro variante polita clausione rutilantes addiderant, predia martiri obtulit numerosa.” 177

engaged memory and history, through charter and liturgy, in order to establish a relationship with secular power and articulate its identity as a center of spiritual prestige.

This study of Mercurius’ cult has revealed that the process of cult formation and codification has everything to do with the multifaceted and complex process of remembering and forgetting. The memory of Mercurius served to strengthen the sense of a common origin for Santa Sofia by creating links to a common past, and fashioning a model for the ideal relationship with secular and ecclesiastical elites.

In the following chapter we will turn to another monastic chronicle, the Chronicon Vulturnense, composed at nearly the same time as the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae. Like the abbey of Santa Sofia, the monastery of San Vincenzo al Volturno utilized the Lombard past, especially the memory of Prince Arichis and the discovery of an ancient saint, to gain favor and protection from local Norman lords. Unlike Santa Sofia, San Vincenzo was not as successful in its endeavors to revive the memory of the Lombard past during the twelfth century.

178

Chapter 4: Inventio and Memory in the Chronicon Vulturnense Introduction

Throughout this dissertation, we have explored several inventiones that appeared in lectionaries and homiliaries. In these manuscripts, inventiones were bound with other hagiographical narratives used commonly in the liturgy. But this dissertation has also made clear that inventiones appeared as well in other literary contexts, such as chronicles and diplomatic sources, and that they were versatile means of writing and rewriting history. For example, we have considered the function of an inventio and its ensuing translatio in a charter, like the 907 charter of Duke Gregory IV of Naples examined in chapter one, as well as an inventio in a civic chronicle, like Falco of Benevento’s description of the 1119 discovery of St Barbatus, discussed in chapter three. We have not, however, considered in significant detail full-length inventiones and translationes in monastic chronicles. In such works, the relic narratives punctuate the wider written history of a community, and are interspersed with charters, privileges, liturgical documents, and other material that made up a monastic archive.

The focus of this chapter will be the Chronicon Vulturnense, a chronicle-chartulary, compiled during the first half of the twelfth century, probably between c. 1119 and 1139, by John, a monk of the abbey of San Vincenzo al Volturno.623 Chronicle-chartularies, used most commonly by

623 The most recent Latin edition of the manuscript is in John of San Vincenzo al Volturno, Chronicon Vulturnense del Monaco Giovanni, Fonti per la storia d’Italia, ed. V. Federici, 3 vols. (Rome: Istituto storico italiano, 1925-1938) (hereafter Chron. Vult.). L. A. Muratori was the first to edit the Chronicon Vulturnense in 1725. There is now an Italian edition of the Chronicon Vulturnense in Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni scritto intorno all’anno 1130, eds. M. Oldoni and F. Marazzi, trans. L. De Luca Roberti, A. Michele Iorio, and P. Vittorelli (Cerro al Volturno: Volturnia Edizioni, 2010). For background on the manuscript, see Marazzi, “Leggere la storia di San Vincenzo al Volturno attraverso il Chronicon Vulturnense: segni, disegni, e percorsi di una narrazione monastica,” in Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni scritto intorno all’anno 1130, XXIV. The terminus post quem is based on the account of the consecration of the abbey church by Pope Paschal II in 1115 held in the Chronicon as well as a dedication of Book I to the abbot Amicus (1109- post 1117). The terminus ante quem is based on the possibility that John the Compiler became abbot of the monastery of San Vincenzo in 1139 until 1144. Since he did not mention holding abbatial status, scholars believe the Chronicon was composed before this date. For the dating, see Federici, “Ricerce per l’edizione del Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni, I: Il codice originale e gli apocrifi della cronaca,” Bullettino dell’Istituto storico italiano per il medio evo e Archivio muratoriano 53 (1939): 147-236; “II: Gli abbati,” ibid 57 (1941): 71-1114; “III: Gli abbati (continuazione),” ibid 61 (1949): 67-123; “IV: La biblioteca,” ibid 61 (1949): 173-180; A. Pratesi, “Il Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni,” in Una grande abbazia altomedievale nel Molise, San Vincenzo al Volturno: atti del I Convegno di studi sul Medioevo meridionale, Venafro, S. Vincenzo al Volturno, 19-22 maggio 1982, ed. F. Avagliano (Montecassino: Pubblicazioni Cassinesi, 1985); H. Hoffmann, “Das Chronicon Vulturnense und die Chronik von Montecassino,” Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 22 (1966): 176-96; E. D’Angelo, “Produzione letteraria e manufatti librari dello scriptorium di San Vincenzo al Volturno. Nuove ipotesi,” ArNos 2 (2009): 149-184, at 149-50. 179

monastic communities, are hybrid collections of historical narrative, transcriptions of charters, land transactions, and sometimes liturgical and hagiographical material. While these sources were not composed with as much frequency as chronicles of purely historical narrative or chartularies made up only of charters and diplomas, there are five from communities in southern

Italy that date to the twelfth century, including the Chronicon Vulturnense.624 Over the course of the early twelfth century, several of the great Benedictine monasteries in Italy compiled chronicle-chartularies. We have already examined the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae from the abbey of Santa Sofia in Benevento, compiled between 1098 and 1119. There was also the Chronicon Casinensis of Montecassino, composed between 1099 and 1139 as well as the twelfth-century chronicle of the abbey of Farfa by Gregory Catino (c. 1060-1135), written between 1107 and 1119 and the chronicle-chartulary of San Clemente a Casauria, in northern

Lazio.625 These few examples, being near contemporary to the Chronicon Vulturnense, provide a wider context in which to situate Volturno’s efforts to preserve its own history. In the broadest terms, during this period, when competition for patronage and wealth was steep, monastic communities combined historical narrative and charter transcriptions to varying degrees as a way to regulate their standing in relation to neighbors, as well as to shape and reimagine the past.626

San Vincenzo’s chronicle is divided into seven books, including a lengthy prologue. It recounts the abbey’s past from its foundation until the twelfth century. The Chronicon’s overall structure is essentially a record of the deeds of San Vincenzo’s abbots, a gesta abbatum. However, within this wider organization, John the Compiler inserted other sources from the abbey’s archive. These include copies of hundreds of charters, donations, and records of land transactions relative to each abbacy, dating from the eighth until the eleventh centuries. In addition to diplomatic sources, the Chronicon also contains legendary material by various authors and from different moments in the abbey’s history. For example, Book One of the Chronicon includes a Vita of the abbey’s founders, which was composed by the abbot of San Vincenzo, Ambrosius Autpert (777-

624 For an overview of the genre see, Loud, “Monastic Chronicles in the Twelfth-Century Abruzzi,” Anglo-Norman Studies, Proceedings from the Battle Conference, ed. J. Gillingham (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2005): 101-31; Geary, Phantoms, 81-114; Bouchard, Rewriting, 22-37. 625 Anderson provides a closer look into some monastic chronicles of the twelfth century. See “Historical Memory,” 249-54. 626 A. Sennis, “Dreams, Visions and Political Competition in the monasteries of Medieval ,” in Compétition et sacré au haut Moyen Âge: entre médiation et exclusion (IVe-XIe siècle), eds., P. Depreux, F. Bougard, R. Le Jan (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015), 361-78. 180

8).627 There are also records of liturgical rituals that took place in the abbey, such as formulae for the monastic ritual of the clamor, as well as other hagiographical accounts that may have originally been used in the readings for the Divine Office in San Vincenzo.628 Simply put, the Chronicon is a scrap-book collection of diverse sources from various periods in the abbey’s history, assembled and systematized in the early twelfth century.

In the Chronicon Vulturnense, legends of discovery were used to connect the abbey to a past network of saintly and temporal patrons in order to strengthen the community’s status. They helped to authenticate and sanctify land transactions that attested to San Vincenzo’s historical wealth and patronage. While the use of hagiographical and other spiritual sources in monastic chronicles has been well appreciated, especially for sources from medieval England and France, there has been little attention to the intersections of relic narratives and other forms of written history in the Chronicon Vulturnense.629 Scholars have long mined the Chronicon for the information it contains about the settlement patterns in the terra of San Vincenzo, a large stretch of land surrounding the monastery. These studies have often considered the Chronicon in terms of its factual reliability, addressing the manuscript not as a whole but on the basis of its parts: diplomas, charters, land transactions.630 And here, scholars have inevitably run into the problem of the “truth value” of such sources, because the Chronicon contains a number of forged documents as well as legendary sources, a characteristic that is typical for the genre. This is all to say that the chronicle of San Vincenzo has not yet been fully examined as a whole, with an appreciation for the interplay between historical and spiritual imagination that gives meaning to the entire source. Therefore, as a contribution to this wider focus, this chapter will examine how inventiones in the Chronicon illustrate the role that hagiography played in the curation and remembrance of an abbey’s history.631 A major component of this dissertation has been an examination of how inventiones reveal the extremely porous boundaries between hagiographical

627 Chron. Vult. 1:101-23. 628 On the liturgical nature of the Chronicon Vulturnense, see R. Gyug, “Reading for Ritual: Liturgy and Ritual in Southern Italian Chronicles,” 561-4. 629 See especially, Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past; Bouchard, Rewriting; Ugé, Creating the Monastic Past, 14. For liturgical and hagiographical sources in Italian monastic chronicles, especially the chronicle of Farfa, see Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity. 630 C. Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo al Volturno in the 8th to 12th Centuries: the Historical Framework,” in San Vincenzo al Volturno: the Archaeology, Art, and Territory, 227-58; Marazzi, “leggere la storia.” 631 For the role of liturgical and devotional sources and time in medieval historiography see Fassler, “The Liturgical Framework of Time,” 165; Spiegel, “Memory and History,” 149-162. 181

and historiographical modes of thought in medieval communities, how charter and legenda intersected. This reciprocity is especially discernable in the inventiones of the Chronicon Vulturnense. Beyond these observations, this study also gives us the opportunity to discern how the memory of the Lombard Prince Arichis II took shape in yet another context. We saw in the last chapter how the memory of Prince Arichis worked to the advantage of the Beneventan community of Santa Sofia as the abbey reconnected to its foundation in its chronicle cartulary. The abbey of San Vincenezo exercised historical memory along similar lines, rearticulating its bond with the eighth-century Lombard Prince. Yet, unlike Santa Sofia, San Vincenzo’s revivication of its Lombard roots did not play out as successfully for the abbey. Thus, we are given a reminder that the formation of historical memory was not a uniform process across communities of southern Italy.

This chapter begins with a brief history of the abbey of San Vincenzo al Volturno and the compilation of its chronicle. Following this, I discuss how devotional and, specifically, hagiographical, sources served as the backbone to the abbey’s written history. Records of liturgical rituals and hagiographical texts that may have been used in the liturgy give meaning to diplomatic sources throughout the Chronicon and demonstrate how the chronicler used the spiritual history of the abbey to make sense of its institutional history. Following this, I examine the forms and functions of discovery in the Chronicon, where several inventiones and translationes appear at key moments in the abbey’s past.

The remainder of this chapter will explore in depth the “discovery” of the relics of St Martin de Monte Massico, a sixth-century hermit and companion of St . In the Chronicon, John included anecdotes about St Martin’s relics as a way to refute the claims of the nearby (Norman-appointed) bishop, Bernard of Carinola, who had reportedly translated the relics to his new diocese of Carinola between the late eleventh and early twelfth century. These anecdotes, while not strictly speaking inventiones, nevertheless rely heavily on tropes commonly found in relic discoveries and, like most inventiones, may have been suitable for use in the divine office of San Vincenzo. Therefore, in this chapter, we will consider these texts to be “quasi- inventiones” because John the Compiler clearly modeled them according to the genre. These narratives also share many similarities with other inventiones we have addressed so far. Notably, these legends of St Martin in the Chronicon utilize the memory of a Lombard past, specifically that of Prince Arichis II, who attempted and failed to remove the relics of St Martin from Monte 182

Massico. Here, the inability of the prince to translate the relics led him to grant San Vincenzo authority over the monastery on Monte Massico and the cult of St Martin. As we shall see, the monastery of San Martino held a large portion of land on and around Monte Massico so Arichis II’s actions amounted to a considerable donation of territory and authority to San Vincenzo. This legend ultimately reinforced the past bond between the Lombard princes and the abbey of San Vincenzo. It also demonstrates perfectly the frequent inseparability of hagiographical and historical memory in medieval sources. Up until now, scholars have studied the hagiographical sources about St Martin as disembodied texts, not taking into consideration how they interact with other sources held in the Chronicon. This context, I argue, is fundamental to interpreting these sources. I conclude this chapter by examining one more addition to the story of these relics. Sometime around the 1130s, the famed Montecassino historian, Peter the Deacon, provided his own interpretation of the discoveries of St Martin’s relics. In his account, the abbey of San Vincenzo and the past Lombard rulers are portrayed as inadequate guardians of the cult of St Martin while the Normans and Montecassino are seen as the rightful heirs to the blessings of the saint.

A Short History of San Vincenzo al Volturno

The abbey of San Vincenzo al Volturno is one of the best studied early medieval abbeys, thanks in part to the magnificent archaeological remains of the monastic complex as well as evidence from archaeological excavations.632 It was founded in the early eighth century on the present-day

632 The early history of San Vincenzo has been covered extensively. See the collection of essays in Marazzi, ed., San Vincenzo al Volturno: cultura, istituzioni, economia, Miscellanea Vulturnense 3 (Monte Cassino: Abbazia di Montecassino, 1996); Marazzi, “L’Abbazia di S. Vincenzo al Volturno,” in Longobardia et longobardi, 256-7; the collection of essays in F. Avagliano, ed., Una grande abbazia; Archaeological excavations in the Volturno Valley have revealed significant information on the abbey and its landed wealth. See the many publications of R. Hodges on the subject: Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages: the Rise and Fall of San Vincenzo al Volturno (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997); Hodges and J. Mitchell, eds. San Vincenzo al Volturno: the Archaeology, Art and Territory of an Early Medieval Monastery (Oxford: British Archaeological Reports, 1983); Hodges, ed., San Vincenzo al Volturno 1: the 1980-86 Excavations part 1 (London: The British School at Rome, 1993); Hodges, ed., San Vincenzo al Volturno 2: the 1980-86 Excavations part 2 (London: The British School at Rome, 1995); Hodges, K. Bowes and K. Francis, eds., Between text and territory. San Vincenzo 4 (London: British School at Rome), 2006. Today, there is a disagreement among three of the principal investigators of the excavations of San Vincenzo. Hodges and Mitchell identified the remains of an oratory as the original foundation of the monastery, which would have constituted the core of the original monastery. That is, the oratory that was dedicated to St Vincent, discovered by Paldo, Tato, and Taso in the eighth century, and then became the church of San Vincenzo Minore. Marazzi, on the other hand, questions this identification citing evidence that the cult of St Vincent of Saragossa may have post dated the foundation of the monastery. Marazzi provides a detailed overview of the controversy in “Leggere la storia,” 35-40. 183

Rocchetta plain, along the frontier between the Principality of Benevento and the Carolingian Empire (map 5). According to the abbey’s legend, its founders were three young Lombard nobles who had abandoned their riches in Benevento to lead a life of asceticism.633 By the ninth century, it was one of the wealthiest monasteries in early medieval southern Italy. In the first years after its foundation, according to the Chronicon, San Vincenzo received the bulk of its territory from the Lombard rulers, Duke Gisulf I (689-707) and Arichis II (754-787).634 The exact stretches of land contained in these donations are uncertain because the surviving copies held in the Chronicon are almost certainly interpolations, written well after the eighth century, at a point when the abbey attempted to recuperate land and records lost during Saracen invasions.635 However, scholars have reconstructed the probable contents of the donations by Duke Gisulf and Prince Arichis II through later documents included in the Chronicon that include descriptions of the terra of San Vincenzo. Wickham, for instance, suggested that these donations from the

Lombards consisted of a large swath of land immediately surrounding the monastery.636

633 The foundation legend is a part of the Vitae of Paldo, Tato and Taso, which is found in two separate versions in the Chronicon: Chron. Vult. 1:101-23, 124-44. 634 Chron. Vult., 1:133-6, 154-5. 635 Chron. Vult. 1:133, n. 3 and 154, n. 4. According to Federici, the charter attributed to Duke Gisulf I (doc. 9) may have been written by Peter the Priest, the author of the second Vita of Paldo, Tato, an Taso (BHL 6416) in the Chronicon. The charter attributed to Arichis II was made after doc. 9 , in order to reinforce the claims in the grant attributed to Gisulf I. 636 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 229-30. 184

Map 5 Main locations mentioned in Chapter 4.

In addition to the Lombard lords, San Vincenzo also gained protection and donations from the Carolingian rulers, including Charlemagne and Louis the Pious after the Lombard kingdom to the north fell to the Carolingians. San Vincenzo was a site of spiritual prestige, it was wealthy, strategically placed in Beneventan territory with about 300 square kilometers of land in the late eighth century.637 Therefore, it remained a valuable resource for competing polities through the ninth century, notably the Lombards in the south and the Carolingians in the north, whose

637 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 231. 185

authority in southern Italy was tenuous at this point.638 Indeed, throughout the Chronicon Vulturnense, the abbey’s historical identity hinges on its bonds not only with the Lombard rulers of Benevento but also on the support it received from the Carolingians.

The Carolingian impact on San Vincenzo went beyond donations of land to influence the identity of the abbey at an early date. In the late eighth century, a Frankish faction emerged within the community. This group was led by Ambrosius Autpert (777-778), himself a Frank and possibly even a member of the Carolingian court before becoming an abbot of San Vincenzo.639 The election of a Frankish abbot might have upset the equilibrium between Carolingian and Lombard forces within the abbey and among its patrons. Interestingly, the Chronicon does not reveal internal strife during the late eighth century. On the other hand, the eighth-century Codex Carolinus includes a letter from Pope Hadrian I (772-795) about a controversy that arose in San Vincenzo between the Frankish monks, who were loyal to Ambrosius, and a monk named Poto, a Lombard. In 778, Poto and his followers allegedly deposed Ambrosius, who died before he could air his grievances against Poto in Charlemagne’s court.640 The Chronicon makes no mention of this sort of conflict because, as we will see, the sense of monastic harmony and the past bonds with secular rulers were especially important for the abbey to preserve during the early twelfth century, when the chronicle was compiled.641

While San Vincenzo’s wealth may have rivaled that of its neighbor, Montecassino, in the late ninth century, its fortune changed for the worse at this time.642 A Saracen invasion of 881, which destroyed much of the monastery’s buildings, marked a turning point in San Vincenzo’s history. The sack of the monastery and the loss of its wealth and land are the main subjects of one text in the Chronicon known as the Ystoria decollatororum nungentorum monachorum huius

638 G.V.B. West, “Charlemagne’s Involvement in Central and Southern Italy: Power and the Limits of Authority,” Early Medieval Europe 8.3 (1999): esp. 350-61; Marazzi, “L’Abbazia di San Vincenzo al Volturno,” 257; Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 29-34. 639 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 30. 640 W. Gundlach, ed., Codex Carolinus, MGH Epistolae 3 (Berlin: Weidmann, 1892), 593-7, no. 66; Granier, “La fonction normative des textes hagiographiques dans la Chronique de Saint-Vincent du Vulturne (vers 1120),” in Normes et Hagiographie dans l’Occident latin (VIe-XVIe siècle). Actes du Colloque international de Lyon, 4-6 octobre 2010, Hagiologia 9, eds., M. and T. Granier (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), 156-7; H. Houben, “Carlo Magno e la deposizione dell’abate Potone di S.Vincenzo al Volturno,” in Houben, Medioevo monastico meridionale (Naples: Liguori, 1987), 43-53. 641 Marazzi discusses the manipulation of memory in the Chronicon in “Leggere la storia,” 51. 642 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 227. 186

monasterii. This source was first written by a former abbot of the monastery named John, perhaps John III (981-984) or John IV (998-1007), and later copied in the Chronicon.643 In addition to the 881 destruction, the Ystoria also tells of the history of San Vincenzo’s relationship with the Lombards and the Carolingians and the state of the abbey after the Saracen invasion.644 According to the text, the monks who survived the attack lived in exile in Capua until 916.645 The silence of the Chronicon regarding donations from high-ranking authorities when they returned to their monastery in the early tenth century suggests that the monks received little in the way of financial support from both the Lombard rulers as well as the Carolingians. These financial hardships were in part due to the fact that the Carolingian empire was in decline and, as we have seen in earlier chapters, the Lombard principality was also beginning to retract with the growth of Byzantine authority throughout southern Italy.646 The Ystoria recalls that as a result of the destitution of the community, San Vincenzo remained in ruins for much of the tenth century.647 While the monks were in exile in Capua, the abbey leased its property to local lords. Thanks to these leases, we can observe that, by 930 (a few years after the return of the monks), it held only a portion of its former estates.648 Although the entire Volturno valley was probably not as desolated after the Saracen invasions of the late ninth century as the Chronicon leads us to believe, the abbey never regained the wealth it once had.649

From the late tenth century onwards, the abbey underwent a long period of rebuilding and, cause or effect, attempted as well to attract the support of temporal authorities. Under the impetus of abbots John IV (998-1007), Hilarius (1011-45), John V (1076-1109), and Gerard (1109-1117),

643 Was Abbot John, the author of the Ystoria, the same John who compiled the Chronicon? Hodges appears to believe they were one in the same. However, there is no evidence to conclusively support this. The name John was common (the abbey had at least six abbots by the name of John between the eighth and the twelfth centuries) and the chronicler does not mention that he was abbot at the time of the compilation. See Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 23. For the contrary, see Pratesi, “Il Chronicon Vulturnense del Monaco Giovanni,” 228-9. 644 Chron. Vult., 1:447-76. The destruction is recounted in Chron. Vult., 1:364-70; Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 35; Kreutz, Before the Normans, 36-7; Houben, Il saccheggio del Monastero di S. Modesto in Benevento (Verso l’860): Un ignoto episodio delle incursioni arabe nel mediterraneo (Galatina: Congedo Editore, 1983). 645 A very similar situation occurred at Montecassino, which was sacked in 883 by the Saracens. The monks of Montecassino also fled to Capua and did not return to Montecassino until 950, according to Leo of Ostia’s Chronicon Casinensis. See Chron. Cas. bk. 1, ch. 48, pp. 126-8; Loud, Latin Church, 24. 646 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 37; Loud, Latin Church, 27. 647 Chron. Vult., 1:370: “Pemansit autem desolacio huius monasterii preciosi Martyris Vincencii in annos triginta tres, in quibus nullius hominis habitacio, sed tantum bestiarum possessio fuit.” 648 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 37. 649 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 240-3. 187

the basilica of San Vincenzo Maggiore was first built anew and, by the early twelfth century, the entire abbey had been reconstructed.650 The building history, as shown by the archaeological excavations, was contemporary to the rebuilding of Montecassino after it too was sacked by the

Arabs and lost a portion of its land.651 The rebuilding of the San Vincenzo abbey culminated in 1115 with the consecration of the new abbey church by Pope Paschal II. It was no coincidence that the consecration of the abbey occurred around the same time that John began work on the Chronicon Vulturnense. These two efforts in rebuilding, in stone and on parchment, were intended to help the community regain its past prestige within a climate of rapid political change.

Despite the abbey’s physical growth from the late tenth to the early twelfth century, it faced new challenges from incumbent regional lords. In particular, local counts in the Abruzzi had begun to seize San Vincenzo’s already shrunken property beginning in the early eleventh century and had even attacked the abbey.652 Among these local counts, the Borelli family greatly impacted San Vincenzo’s wealth. The Borelli arose from Abruzzi kin groups that inhabited the frontier between the Carolingian empire and the Lombard Principality. As political stability declined in this area in the tenth century, the Borelli helped to fill the vacuum. They governed their territories as quasi-independent groups, aligning with ecclesiastical institutions to strengthen their authority. In particular, the Borelli favored San Vincenzo’s neighbor, the monastery of Montecassino. As early as 1014, the Borelli allied with and donated stretches of territory in the

Abruzzi to Montecassino.653 The bonds established between Montecassino and the Borelli were made sometimes at the expense of San Vincenzo. For instance, in the eleventh century, the

Borelli attacked the land surrounding San Vincenzo and seized Castel San Vincenzo.654 The latter was one of the most important castelli in the terra of San Vincenzo and may have even included the land on which the monastery itself sat.655 Its loss was a considerable blow to the monastery’s landed wealth.

650 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 37-8; Wickham, “The Terra San Vincenzo,” 240-52. 651 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 170; Loud, Latin Church, 25. 652 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 38. 653 Chron. Cas., bk. 2, ch. 3, pp. 172-81. 654 L. Feller, “The Northern Frontier of Norman Italy, 1060-1140,” in The Society of Norman Italy, eds., Loud and A. Metcalfe (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 55-6. 655 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 237. 188

As time progressed, the Borelli partnered with the Normans.656 By the early twelfth century, certain branches of the Borelli family had become vassals of the Norman count Hugh of Boiano. Together, these groups continued to consolidate their authority at the expense of San

Vincenzo.657 The Chronicon records that by the 1050s both the Normans of Capua and the

Borelli had usurped property from San Vincenzo and attacked the monastery.658 Further incursions through the eleventh century by the Norman counts reduced the abbey’s possessions to the territory immediately surrounding it.659

In some accounts in the Chronicon, the Normans themselves are the ones really to blame for the abbey’s decline in wealth. For instance, John the Compiler interrupted his account of the Frankish abbot Joshua (792-817) to write that before the Saracen invasions, San Vincenzo held many castelli where land and churches “were plentiful.” After the devastations of the ninth century, those who survived were able to attempt to reclaim the possessions of the monastery. That is, “until the Normans arrived in Italy.” According to John, the Normans “seized all things for themselves, and they began to build castelli...which they were able to obtain acting either without lord or law, saying that they were the patrons, nay oppressors of the churches...this evil has persisted up until today and they have taken, not without [causing] grave sacrilege, the estates and possessions of churches for themselves and their sons as if by hereditary right.”660 Here, it is as if John the Compiler was drawing a comparison between the Saracen and Norman invasions, two waves of destruction endured by the community.

While resistance to the Normans was not uncommon in the early years of the Norman invasions of southern Italy, seen sporadically in monastic sources like the Dialogues of Abbot Desiderius of Montecassino (1058-1087) and the Chronicon Casinensis, composed during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, scholars tend to appreciate that the Normans and some native ecclesiastical

656 Chron. Vult., 3:89; Feller, “The Northern Frontier,” 55. 657 Loud, Latin Church, 107. 658 Chron. Vult. 3:79, 89. 659 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 39. 660 Chron. Vult., 1:231: “cessante quoque devastacione et persecutione illorum, qui tunc evadere potuerunt, ut sua invenire valuerunt, regis iudicio et precariis possederunt, usque quo Normanni in Italiam pervenerunt. Qui sibi omnia diripientes, castella ex villis edificare ceperunt . . . que optinere potuerunt, velud sine rege et sine lege agentes, ipsarum se ecclesiarum patronos, immo dominatores dicentes . . . quod malum usque hodie perseverat, et ecclesiarum praedia et possessiones, non sine gravi sacrilegio, hereditario quasi iure sibi et filiis suis assumunt.”; Loud, The Age of Robert Guiscard, 284-5. 189

communities of southern Italy came to have a more or less cooperative relationship by the first half of the twelfth century, as evidenced by our previous discussion of the Chronicon Sanctae

Sophiae.661 In addition to this, the perception of a distinct “Norman” identity by the early twelfth century had diminished because the Norman settlers had increasingly integrated into the southern

Italian population through intermarriage and assimilation.662 However, the Chronicon Vulturnense gives quite a different picture. In the early twelfth century, John seems to have considered the arrival of the Normans, especially those who occupied Capua, as similar to if not worse than the attacks by the Saracens. From John’s perspective, and quite possibly the community of San Vincenzo’s, the Normans remained a threat to the abbey in the early twelfth century.

Meanwhile, nearby Montecassino continued to benefit from its relationship not only with local counts like the Borelli but eventually the Norman princes as well. In the course of the mid to late eleventh century, Montecassino’s wealth increased thanks to the donations of the Norman counts. Graham Loud notes that in several instances Norman counts granted Montecassino rights over property it had confiscated from rebellious regional authorities, in particular from the Lombards who had formerly governed regional estates. For instance, in 1079 the Norman Prince Jordan I of Capua (1046-1091) granted Montecassino another part of the terra of San Vincenzo. This territory, known as Sujo, lay south of the monastery and had been usurped by Prince Jordan five years prior from its previous Lombard lords because they had been deemed disloyal to the

Norman authority.663 According to Wickham, as this process continued, San Vincenzo lost its prestige along with its land and “slipped under the wing of the more resilient Cassino in the twelfth century, after several decades of bad relations.”664 This decline began shortly before the compilation of the Chronicon by John but continued into the twelfth century. Therefore, the

661 Chron. Cas., bk. 2, ch. 69-71, pp. 308-12; Desiderius of Montecassino, Dialogi de Miraculis Sancti Benedicti, ed. G. Schwarz and A. Hofmeister, MGH Scriptores 30.2 (Leipzig: Karoli W. Hiersemann, 1934). 1138-9; Loud, “Monastic Miracles in southern Italy,” Studies in Church History 41 (2005): 115-19; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 52-4; Loud, “The Norman counts of Caiazzo and the abbey of Montecassino,” in Montecassino and Benevento in the Middle Ages. 662 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 64; N. Webber, The Evolution of Norman Identity, 911-1154 (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2005). 663 Loud, Latin Church, 113; Codex Diplomaticus Caitanus (Montecassino: Abbey of Montecassino, 1958-1969), 2:120-4, nos. 251-2. 664 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 247. 190

abbey’s written history, its record of landed wealth and powerful patrons, commemorated and kept alive the abbey’s magnificent past while encouraging the support of new patrons.665

The reasons for the imbalance in favor between Montecassino and San Vincenzo al Volturno are not entirely clear. However, Montecassino’s resilience against the loss of wealth may have been attributed to its military power, which other communities like San Vincenzo, did not develop over the course of the tenth and eleventh centuries.666 Unlike San Vincenzo, the settlement patterns in the terra of Montecassino during the tenth and eleventh centuries include considerable signs of military preparedness, which may have helped defend against the Norman invaders and therefore prevented the loss of land experienced by San Vincenzo. For instance, a focus on fortifications, such as walls, in the castelli of the terra sancti benedicti in the tenth and eleventh centuries is more apparent in documents related to territories held by Montecassino than those of San Vincenzo.667

Another factor may have been Montecassino’s reputation as the abbey of St Benedict of Nursia. The Normans favored large Benedictine abbeys as they consolidated power in southern Italy since these communities linked the Normans with the reform papacy and aided in the reorganization of the ecclesiastical landscape.668 Montecassino’s association with the very roots of Benedictine monasticism may indeed have impacted its high standing with Norman lords relative to that of San Vincenzo’s. As Ramseyer has shown, the spread of the Benedictine Rule and the establishment of territorial lordships of large Benedictine communities throughout southern Italy occurred contemporaneously with the Norman conquest.669

Beyond the pressure from Norman lords of Capua, another challenge faced by San Vincenzo, which also contributed to the compilation of the Chronicon Vulturnense, was the claim of the monastery of Farfa of authority over San Vincenzo. The chronicle of the monastery of Farfa was composed by Gregory Catino between 1107-1119, contemporaneous to or shortly before the compilation of the Chronicon Vulturnense. In it, Gregory asserted that Farfa’s first abbot,

665 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 41. 666 Loud, Latin Church, 114. 667 Wickham, “The Terra of San Vincenzo,” 246-7. 668 Ramseyer, Transformation, 193-6. 669 Ramseyer, Transformation, ch. 5. 191

Thomas of Maurienne, subjected San Vincenzo to the abbey of Farfa in the early eighth century.670 The Chronicon Vulturnense is silent regarding the claims made by Gregory, although it is likely that John the Compiler was aware of them.671 Probably in part to counteract these claims, the Chronicon presents an alternate past for San Vincenzo devoid of any sign of Farfa’s control over the abbey. In this way, the Chronicon proclaims the independent identity of the abbey.672 Further, in the 1115 consecration by Paschal II recorded in the Chronicon, the pope confirmed the abbey’s independent status.

In general, John’s intentions behind the chronicle-chartulary were to counteract significant attempts to subsume the abbey made by Farfa and the Normans. John also wished to inspire the growth of his abbey through the memory of its illustrious past. The Chronicon was composed after a period of rebuilding, which although may have given the appearance that the abbey regained its wealth, was an “illusion,” in the words of Hodges.673 The abbey’s wealth was significantly reduced and it continued to lose land to the Normans and their allies during the twelfth century. Through legendary tales of princes, dukes, and emperors as well as stories illustrating the holiness of the monks, John sought to encourage a new era of patronage in a new political landscape. Through the careful selection of past identities and memories, the Chronicon curated a very specific history for the community of San Vincenzo. However, control over this history was met with fierce competition.

The Chronicon Vulturnense in Context

While it must have once boasted an impressive library, with many sources attesting to its liturgical and literary culture, only five manuscripts remain that can be securely attributed to the abbey of San Vincenzo.674 Because of this lack of literary evidence, much of what we know

670 Boynton has covered this controversy in Shaping a Monastic Identity, 206-15. 671 Pratesi, “Il Chronicon Vulturnense,” 226-8. 672 Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity, 212; Delogu, “I monaci e l'origine di San Vincenzo al Volturno,” in San Vincenzo al Volturno: La nascita di una città monastica, eds. Hodges, Mitchell, Delogu (Isernia: Institute of World Archaeology, 1996), 49-51. 673 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 39. 674 On the archive of San Vincenzo, see L. Duval-Arnould, “Les manuscrits de San Vincenzo al Volturno,” in Una grande abbazia altomedievale, 535-78; Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 104, 583, 683, 684. The five manuscripts are: London, British Library, Add. Ms. 5463 (Codex Beneventanus, eighth century?); Vienna, Nationalbibliothek, Ms. 68 (medicinal texts, tenth century); Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Chigi, D.V. 77 (Flores psalmorum,

192

about San Vincenzo and its spiritual identity comes from the Chronicon, beyond what has been learned from the physical remains of the abbey and the evidence learned from archaeological excavations in the terra of San Vincenzo. It is possible, for example, to reconstruct from the hagiographical sources held in the Chronicon the types of saints’ cults that developed in San Vincenzo as early as the eighth century but which were still important to the abbey in the twelfth.675 We will explore how the Chronicon reveals the spiritual identity of San Vincenzo in the sections to follow. First, it is necessary to introduce some characteristics of the Chronicon as well as its history.

The Chronicon survives in the twelfth-century Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana,

Barb. lat. MS 2724.676 The manuscript holds 341 folios and measures 19.5 x 32.6 cm. It is written in Beneventan minuscule of the Montecassino style.677 There are at least ten different hands throughout the manuscript and it contains thirty-seven miniatures and twenty-nine images of abbots that precede each chapter.678 In addition to the surviving twelfth-century Chronicon, there is a fragment of a manuscript now held in the archives of Montecassino, which scholars believe may have been an earlier version of a chronicle of San Vincenzo.679 In 1925, this fragment was discovered by Gaetano Sabatini. Sabatini donated the manuscript to the Istituto

Storico Italiano in 1940.680 The fragment has been dated to between the late tenth and early eleventh century, a generation before John the Compiler began to work on the extant twelfth-

litanies, various prayers, eleventh century); Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Barb. lat. 2724 (Chronicon Vulturnense, early twelfth century); Rome, Biblioteca Vallicelliana, Ms. D. 8 (Bible, twelfth century); D’Angelo, “Produzione letteraria e manufatti librari dello scriptorium di San Vincenzo al Volturno,” 149-84. 675 For relic cults at San Vincenzo, see Mitchell, L. Watson, F. de Rubeis, Hodges, I. Wood, “Cult, Relics and Privileged Burial at San Vincenzo al Volturno in the Age of Charlemagne: The Discovery of the Tomb of Abbot Talaricus (817- 3 October 823),” in I Congresso nazionale di archeologia medievale, Pisa, 29-31 maggio, ed. S. Gelici (Florence: All'Insegna del Giglio, 2000), 1; Mitchell and Hodges, “Portraits, the cult of relics and the affirmation of hierarchy at an early medieval monastery: San Vincenzo al Volturno,” Antiquity 70 (1996): 20-30; Sennis, “The Power of Time: Looking at the Past in Medieval Monasteries,” in Self-Representation of Medieval Religious Communities: The British Isles in Context, eds. A. Müller and K. Stöber (Berlin: Lit, 2009), 307-25. 676 Federici’s edition has received some criticism for its failure to note certain paleographic attributes of Barb. lat. 2724. However, the edition as a whole is considered a reliable witness to the manuscript. For criticisms and problems with Federici’s work, see Hoffmann, “Das Chronicon Vulturnense und die Chronik von Montecassino”; Pratesi, “Il Chronicon Vulturnense,” 221-2. Barb. lat. MS 2724 is available digitally on the Vatican’s digitized manuscript library: https://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Barb.lat.2724. 677 On this sub-script see Brown, Terra Sancti Benedicti, 670. 678 N. Paone, “Insegnamenti e peculiarità di San Vincenzo al Volturno,” in Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni scritto intorno all’anno 1130, 19. 679 Sennis, “Tradizione monastica e racconto delle origini in Italia centrale (secoli XI-XII),” Mélanges de l'école française de Rome, Moyen Âge 115.1 (1993): 210. 680 G. Braga, ed., Il frammento Sabatini: un documento per la storia di San Vincenzo al Volturno (Rome: Viella, 2003). 193

century Chronicon Vulturnense. The “Sabatini Fragment” contains a legend of Charlemagne’s journey to San Vincenzo as well as the Vitae of two abbots, Ambrosius Autpert (777-778) and

Maio (872-901).681 Since similar sources also appear in Barb. lat. 2724, the Sabatini Fragment may point to an earlier effort made by the abbey to compile a written history, a “proto-chronicle” according to Marazzi.682

As mentioned, the Chronicon Vulturnense’s structure is based on the succession of the monastery’s abbots, beginning in the early eighth century and ending in the mid eleventh century. Thus, the contents of the Chronicon follow a broadly chronological retelling of the abbey’s history. Included throughout the accounts of the abbots, there are diplomas, hagiographies, and liturgical rites copied into the Chronicon. The organization of the sources follows a more or less chronological history of the abbey. John divided the chronicle into seven books, which he compared with the seven ages of creation, thus intertwining the abbey’s history and the achievements of its abbots with that of sacred time and the will of God. Despite this, for unknown reasons, John only completed four books of the Chronicon.683

John the Compiler is responsible for composing some of the contents, such as the prologue to Book One. John also took credit for the source entitled Qualiter Constantinus imperator primus construxit his ecclesiam, which recounts the foundation of the abbey by Paldo, Tato, and Taso and a vision of Emperor Constantine the Great.684 Most of the sources, however, are from earlier authors, like Ambrosius Autpert, who wrote the eighth-century version of the Vita of Paldo,

Tato, and Taso (BHL 6415).685 There is also a tenth or eleventh-century Vita of the three founders by a cleric named Peter the Priest (BHL 6416), as well as the previously mentioned

Ystoria by another abbot of the monastery, confusingly also named John.686 At times, as we will see with the story of St Martin de Montemassico’s Translatio, John noted that he discovered ancient writings in the abbey’s archives but for which no other extant version exists.687

681 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 23. 682 Marazzi, “Leggere la storia,” 35. 683 Marazzi, “Leggere la storia,” 21. 684 Granier, “La fonction normative,” 155; Chron. Vult., 1:145: “Sed qualiter hic locus antique habitacionis fuerit, vel a quibus predicta ecclesia in primis edificata, sicut a fidelibus viris et religiosis patribus didici, narro.” 685 Chron. Vult., 1:101-23. 686 Chron. Vult., 1:124-44. 687 Chron. Vult., 1:302. 194

To make matters more complicated, John frequently interspersed sources within sources. For instance, the Ystoria is the first source in Book Three of the Chronicon. It follows the chapter on Abbot Maio of San Vincenzo (872-901). Within the Ystoria, however, John the Compiler inserted a commemoratorium by a monk named Sabbatinus. The commemoratorium was composed sometime after the destruction of the monastery in 881 and listed the abbey’s possessions in hopes of rebuilding the community’s estates.688 In a similar fashion, charters interrupt narratives and narratives punctuate long series of diplomas and charters. The following inventory is intended to present the overall structure of the Chronicon as well as to give a glimpse into the composite nature of the manuscript. I have indicated a potential date for the original composition of each source, when possible.689

Table 2 Partial Inventory of the Chronicon Vulturnense.

1v-5v Oratio domini Autperti abbatis pars divisa contra c. 777-778 sepcies septena vicia que prodeunt de inventrice malorum superbia (prayer by Ambrosius Autpert on the seven sins)

5v-6r Donation of Bernard, son of John, to San Vincenzo Attributed in Chronicon of the monastery of Saint Columba and the churches to February, 1070 of Saint Donatus, Saint Nicholas, and Saint Germain

6v-7r Pro inimicis ecclesiarum qui se corrigere vel emendare noluerunt (ritual of the monastic clamor)

688 Chron. Vult., 1:372. 689 Granier also provides a list of the contents of the first 139 folios of the Chronicon. See Granier, “La fonction normative,” 152-153. The twelfth-century date range indicates sources that scholars have attributed to the period in which the Chronicon was compiled under the direction of the monk John of San Vincenzo. In some cases, John indicated that he was responsible for the composition of the source. For more on the dating see ibid, 152-5. 195

7v-8r Report of the consecration of the new abbey church post 1115 by Pope Paschal II, confirmation of papal privileges, maledicamus, ritual of mea culpa

8r (Later addition) Anastasius IV offers the monastery 1153-1154 of Saint Deodatus to San Vincenzo

8r (Later addition) Pope Alexander III grants San 1178-1179 Vincenzo the monastery of Saint Victorini in Benevento

8r (Later addition?) Ritual of confiteor

8v Ruling of Abbot Taso on penance of monks 729-739

9r-15r Prologue to Book 1, dedication of Chronicon to Written in early twelfth Abbot Benedict (1109-1117) by John the Compiler, century list of pontifical privileges, explanation of the book’s organization in seven parts, liturgical formula for Prima virtus requirere superius, on the doctrine of eternal creation

15v-21r Chronology/ list of the six ages of the world, ending Written in early twelfth with Alexis Comnena and the first crusade by John century the Compiler

21r bis (Later addition) Monks of San Vincenzo swear an 1260 oath never to sell the property of the monastery

196

22r Epistula beati Hieronymi ad papam Darnasum, epistula Damasi pape ad Hieronimum presbiterum

22r-29r List of popes from Peter to Honorius II (1124-1130) Written in twelfth century

30r-42r Vita Paldonis, Tatonis, et Tasonis by Ambrosius c. 777-778 Autpert (BHL 6415)

42r-52v Vita Paldonis, Tatonis, et Tasonis by Peter the Priest Written in tenth or (BHL 6416), including forged documents from eleventh century? Gisulf I (689-706) and Charlemagne (715) with miniatures

52v-54v Qualiter Constantinus imperator primus construxit Written in early twelfth hic ecclesiam, by John the Compiler? century

54v-55r Diploma of King I Attributed in Chronicon 749-756

55r-55v De monasterio s. Benedicti quod ab eis restauratum Written in early twelfth est century (with later additions?)

Inventory of fols. 55v-341v =

Beginning of a chronology following abbots from Abbot Tato (720-21) through c. 1066 (quasi-gesta abbatum). Each chapter includes an account of the

197

abbot’s reign of varying lengths, composed likely in the early twelfth century, as well as charters, diplomas, land transactions, and narratives dating originally to the abbot’s time period, including

(among other texts):690

55v-56v Sanctus Tato (721-729)

56r-56v Diploma of Prince Arichis II to San Vincenzo with Attributed in miniature Chronicon to March, 760

56v-58v Sanctus Taso (729-739)

58v-61v Ato Abbas (739-760)

61v Herempertus Abbas (760-763)

61v-64r Iohannes Abbas (763-777)

64r-71v Vita vel obitus domni Autperti venerabilis abbatis post 778

66v-67r Diploma of Charlemagne to Abbot Autpertus Attributed in Chronicon to 775

(…)

74r Incipit Liber secundus chronice huius

690 I have decided to include only those sources which are demonstrative of the general structure and/or that pertain to the arguments in this chapter. In other words, this inventory is not exhaustive. 198

(…)

104v- Epyphanius abbas (824-842) 110v

109v- Translatio S. Martini and diploma of Arichis II to Translatio likely 110v San Vincenzo composed in early twelfth century but John mentioned it was passed down from the time of Epiphanius (see analysis below); diploma attributed to 754-787.

(…)

124v- Explicit liber Secundus, Incipit Liber Tercius: Composed in tenth or 139r Prologus domini Johannis venerabilis abbatis in eleventh century by Ystoria decollatorum nungentorum monachorum John, Abbot of San huius monasterii Vincenzo

139v Explicit Liber Tercius. Incipit Liber Quartus.

292r-332r Ilarius Abbas (1011-1045)

332r- Liutfridus Abbas (1045-1053) 333v

199

334r- Iohannas Quintus Abbas (1053-1076) = end of 341v Chronicon

This inventory does not include every document held in the Chronicon. Indeed, there are hundreds of diplomas, charters, land transactions, and micro- and full-length narratives that appear throughout the manuscript. It also bears mention that while most of the charters held in the Chronicon are considered trustworthy witnesses, it also contains a number of forgeries.691 Martin concluded that around 15% of the documents were falsified, a small percentage compared to Peter the Deacon’s twelfth-century continuation of the Chronicon Casinensis.692 Of this percentage, most falsifications appear in the documents from prior to the late ninth century, the period in which the abbey was abandoned and likely lost much of its extant archive. Indeed, scholars maintain that many of the documents from before 881, copied in the Chronicon, represent either forgeries or documents that have been revised considerably and therefore are thought to have been “interpolated.”693 Notably, the early documents in the Chronicon from sovereign authorities like Duke Gisulf I, Prince Arichis II, and Charlemagne, are considered to have been falsified. In general, it is not certain whether John the Compiler was responsible for some or all of the forged documents or if he copied documents that had been forged at an earlier date.694 Despite this, we must recall that these charters represent an invaluable insight into the abbey’s perception of its past and its bond with historical authorities and powerful patrons.695 We will return to the forged charters of Gisulf, Arichis, and Charlemagne shortly.

The Chronicon was compiled, first and foremost, to “create a usable past” for the monks of San

Vincenzo.696 It was intended to preserve the history of the abbey as well as to send a message to outsiders, such as the Norman lords, that the monastery remained important in the ecclesiastical landscape. John the Compiler counterbalanced the challenges faced by the abbey through past records of its prestige. These records addressed several concerns outlined above. First, the

691 Chron. Vult., 1:124-144; Regesti dei documenti dell'Italia meridionale, 570-899, eds., J.-M. Martin, E. Cuozzo, S. Gasparri, M. Villani (Rome: École française de Rome, 2002), 22-3. 692 Regesti dei documenti, 22. 693 Marazzi, “Leggere la storia,” 24; See Bouchard’s discussion on interpolation and forgeries in Rewriting, ch. 5. 694 Pratesi, “Il Chronicon Vulturnense,” 221-31. 695 Bouchard, Rewriting, 2-3. 696 Ugé, Creating the Monastic Past, 1. 200

memory of the Saracen invasions of the ninth century continued to shape the abbey’s identity in the twelfth, since these attacks had greatly impacted the abbey’s landed wealth. The Chronicon included several accounts, like the Ystoria as we will see shortly, to depict the abbey as a resilient and holy victim of these invasions. Second, the arrival of the Normans also loomed large in John’s perception of the abbey’s recent past. Related to this was the relative wealth of Montecassino, which benefited from the presence of the Norman lords at the expense of San Vincenzo. The Chronicon’s depiction of the past bonds with the Lombard and Carolingian rulers attempted to portray San Vincenzo as an equal of Montecassino’s, and therefore worthy of patronage. Finally, there was the abbey of Farfa, which, in the twelfth century laid claim to the abbey of San Vincenzo. These neighboring ecclesiastical and secular lordships put pressure on the community of San Vincenzo, which responded with the compilation of its written history. The Chronicon was one way to demonstrate that the abbey was both prestigious and autonomous.

Legendary Memory and Spiritual Identity in the Chronicon

The assortment of texts held in the Chronicon, at first glance, gives the impression that the Chronicon is merely a miscellaneous collection of sources, a mix of hagiographies, charters, and records of liturgical rituals. Alessandro Pratesi noted that compared to other eleventh and twelfth century chronicles from Italian monasteries, like the Chronicon Farfense or the Chronicon Casinense, the organization of the Chronicon Vulturnense is a “confused collection of materials” lacking an overarching unity.697 Marazzi more recently echoed these statements, referring to the Chronicon’s assembly as “hasty,” a product of John the Compiler’s ambition to link the abbey to a “universal chronology.”698

It is true that the boundaries between the diplomatic, narrative, and liturgical sources are blurred throughout the manuscript. John frequently and without pause blended charters and privileges into the hagiographical sources, like the Vitae of Paldo, Tato, and Taso, and the Ystoria decollatorum nungentorum. In this way he wove the rights and privileges of the monastery into

697 Pratesi, “Il Chronicon Vulturnense,” 227: “Ma la compilazione del Chronicon Vulturnense ci si presenta, a paragone dei testi dello stesso genere storiografico, come una raccolta confusa di materiali che confluiscono nell’opera senza legarsi in un’esposizione armonica. . .” 698 Marazzi, “Leggere la storia,” 21-2. 201

the wider legendary memory of the community.699 The above mentioned assessments of the Chronicon, however, have not taken into consideration that John the Compiler purposefully mingled sacred time with recent events; liturgical records, hagiographical sources, charters, diplomas, and annales were all tools in the abbey’s arsenal to appropriate and reshape its past.700 This intertwining of spiritual and diplomatic material, rather than being haphazard, gives order to the Chronicon and represents a deliberate intersecting of different sorts of literary techniques. Sources that portray the spiritual life and memory of the abbey, like hagiographies and records of liturgical rites, give meaning to diplomas and charters. Before proceeding to the inventiones in the Chronicon, it is necessary first to explore the overarching ways in which the spiritual identity of the abbey informed John’s compilation of the Chronicon, a characteristic of the manuscript that ultimately offers an interpretive context in which to study the inventiones held in the

Chronicon.701

One way in which John the Compiler infused the abbey’s past with sacred meaning was through the very organization of the Chronicon against the backdrop of Biblical time. As mentioned, John wrote that he intended the Chronicon to have seven books. Despite the fact that the work appears to have never been completed, in the opening lines of Book One, John went to great lengths to explain how he structured his work. “I have divided the entire work into seven parts because the work of the Creator was finished in seven days and we discern that the entirety of time is understood or made clear by the number of those days.”702 Further on, he wrote that the significance of the seven-part division was also based on a passage in the : “we have also seen that John wrote in the Apocalypse and Paul wrote in the seven letters that the seven churches will convene in unity of faith from all over the world for the worship of

Christ.”703 With these words, John tells his reader that, above all, sacred time and biblical history

699 Similar observations have been made by Constance Bouchard for chronicle-chartularies from twelfth-century France. See Bouchard, Rewriting, ch. 3. 700 Spiegel, “Introduction,” in Representing History, 4. 701 See Boynton’s recent work on the Cluniac manuscript, Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, lat. 17716 in “Music and the Cluniac Vision of History in Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS lat. 17716,” in Chant, Liturgy, and the Inheritance of Rome: Essays in Honour of Dyer. Henry Bradshaw Society, Subsidia 8, eds., D. J. DiCenso and R. Maloy (London: Boydell, 2017). 702 Chron. Vult., 1:35: “In septem igitur divisionis gradus opus omne distinuimus, ut quia septem diebus universa opera Creatoris condita eorum numero cuncti temporis metam vel augeri vel deficere cernimus. . .” 703 Chron. Vult., 1:35: “septem quoque ecclesias in unitatem fidei convenire ex tocius mundi latitudine ad Christi pietatem, quibus Iohanem in Apocaplipsi et Paulam septem epistolas scribentem vidimus.” 202

shaped his work. He referenced not only the beginning of salvation history with the creation of the world in seven days but also the end of time foretold in Revelation.704 The trope of sacred time in chronicles is not original to the Chronicon Vulturnense and has long been appreciated as a hermeneutic of medieval historiographers to make sense of their institutional histories.705 For John and other chroniclers of his time, the chronology of sacred and eternal time overlapped with the chronology of San Vincenzo’s local history and thus anchored the abbey in salvation history.

Through this “layering of temporalities,”706 the more recent events in the abbey’s history acquired meaning because they were absorbed within biblical history.707

Beyond John’s description of the Chronicon’s structure, there are several additional clues that reveal how the spiritual life and practice of the abbey gave meaning to its history within the Chronicon. For example, the rest of the prologue includes several sources that are overtly liturgical or extracted from specific moments in the abbey’s liturgical history. Among these are the prayer by the abbot Ambrosius Autpert against the seven vices, a monastic clamor against enemies, a report on the 1115 consecration of the new abbey by Pope Paschal II, and a treatise on the formulas of the confiteor.

The clamor, a recognized liturgical ritual, was used by monasteries to curse enemies and to ward off threats to property.708 In the report on the clamor in the Chronicon, entitled “Concerning the enemies of the churches who do not want to correct or amend themselves,”709 John included the step-by-step instructions on the ritual and the prayers said by the monks as they convened for this practice.710 In these prayers, the monks of San Vincenzo called upon God and the saints to curse

704 According to the Apocalypse of St John, letters will be sent to the leaders of seven churches across Asia Minor foreboding the end of time. The cities were Pergamon, Thyatira, Smyrna, Sardis, Philadelphia, Ephesus, and Laodicea. On St John’s Apocalypse, see E. Jastrzębowska, Cities of the Apocalypse, Studia Archaeologica 217 (Rome: L’erma di Bretschneider, 2017). 705 See, Boynton’s article, “Writing History with Liturgy,” 189. For the understanding that biblical narrative reflected history as a whole in medieval thought, see J. Harris, “The Bible and the Meaning of History in the Middle Ages,” in The Practice of the Bible in the Middle Ages, eds., S. Boynton and D. J. Reilly (New York: Columbia University Press, 2011), 84-104. 706 For this term, see Boynton, “Music and the Cluniac vision of History,” 407. 707 Spiegel, “Memory and History,” 152. 708 On the monastic clamor see L. K. Little, Benedictine Maledictions: Liturgical Cursing in Romanesque France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993), 206; Boynton, Shaping a Monastic Identity, 131-5; Geary, “Humiliation of the Saints,” in Living with the Dead, 91-115; G. J. G. Snoek, Medieval Piety from Relics to the Eucharist: A Process of Mutual Interaction (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 166-75. 709 Chron. Vult., 1:17: “Pro inimicis ecclesiarum quo se corrigere vel emendare noluerint.” 710 Chron. Vult., 1:17-20. 203

enemies who “invaded or seized the property of the church.”711 Sources like the clamor were not only indicative of the abbey’s piety and spiritual authority against enemies, but were also ways in which John transmitted the liturgical identity of the abbey within its wider history. For the monks of San Vincenzo, the curses sung in the clamor were concrete weapons against the actual destruction and invasions the abbey had experienced in its past, such as the devastating attack made by the Saracens in 881, as well as those they continued to experience in the twelfth century, like the disruptions brought by the Normans of Capua. As Antonio Sennis has noted, the clamor in the Chronicon uses memory as a powerful tool against enemies. In one of the curses, the monks pray that their enemies be forgotten to oblivion.712 Thus, the Chronicon’s dual use of the power of memory is illustrated. On the one hand, it preserved the memories of these most important moments in the abbey’s past, like the attacks by the Saracens and Normans. On the other hand, it was also a tool to erase the memories of those same groups who threatened the community.

Immediately following the clamor, John included a report of the 1115 consecration of the new abbey church. Notably, John mentioned in this report that the relics of St Vincent were held in the church.713 Attending the consecration were cardinals, archbishops, bishops and abbots. This report details the solemnities and how those present received the remission of their sins. It also includes the exact words of Paschal II in malediction against the enemies of the abbey, warning that they would face excommunication if they infringed on the abbey’s rights. The remembered maledictiones of Paschal II directly intersect with the prayers in the monastic clamor, uniting the two sources in the Chronicon through a common rhetoric.714 The report of this consecration was even used annually during the feast of the dedication of the church as illustrated by the fact that

711 Chron. Vult., 1:18: “maledicimus, excommunicamus . . . [eos] qui bona huius ecclesie diripuit vel invasit . . . ” 712 Sennis, “The power of time,” 323. 713 Chron. Vult., 1:20: “Anno dominice incarnacionis millesimo centesimo quinto decimo. Venerande memorie dominus papa Paschalis secundus hanc ecclesiam consecravit ad honorem summi Dei et vocabulo eius preciosi martyris Vincencii, in qua honorifice suis manibus ipsius beatissimi Vincentcii martyris et aliorum sanctorum fere quinquaginta sacras reliquias collocavit.” San Vincenzo al Volturno probably acquired the relics of St Vincent during the first half of the ninth century, following the completion of the crypt of the Basilica of Abbot Joshua in 808. Excavations of the crypt revealed a niche that was probably for Vincent’s relics. On the relics of St Vincent in San Vincenzo, see Mitchell, Hodges, Watson, “Relics and Privileged Burial”; Mitchell, “Artistic patronage and cultural strategies in Lombard Italy,” in Towns and their Territories between Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, eds. G.P. Brogiolo, N. Gauthier, N. Christie (Boston: Brill, 2001), 357. 714 Chron. Vult., 1:21: “Nos autem hec omnia scientes et intelligentes, ex divina auctoritate Patris et Filii et Spiritus sancti et sancte Romane Ecclesie adiuti meritis et precibus istorum, sanctorum sequentes vestigia precedencium patrum nostrorum, quos maledixerunt maledicimus . . . ” 204

John concluded the text by addressing his brothers: “Therefore you, brothers, who have gathered today for the solemnities of the dedication of this church, so that you may accept remittance of your sins, confess to the Lord our God.”715 The remembered consecration of the new abbey church, as a liturgical moment preserved in time, solidified San Vincenzo’s place among ecclesiastical authorities and reiterated the protection from Rome, which was guaranteed during the consecration.716

In a similar way to the insertion of liturgical prayers and rituals in the Chronicon, San Vincenzo’s foundation legends and other hagiographical sources also play an integral role in shaping the abbey’s remembered history. The saints’ vitae were sources in which the porous boundaries between history, liturgy, and hagiography are easily discernible. On the one hand, these sources in general were frequently in origin used as legenda, readings in the celebration of the divine office.717 On the other hand, they were powerful modes of writing history.718 The interplay between hagiographical legends and charters, diplomas, and land transactions illustrates how the Chronicon crafted the past in order to position the abbey in an elevated place among a network of historical authorities, particularly early Lombard and Carolingian rulers and thus negotiated its standing in the twelfth century.

As mentioned, there are three versions of the foundation legend of San Vincenzo held in the Chronicon, which appear consecutively in the manuscript. The first was written by Ambrosius Autpertus in the eighth century, the second by a monk named Peter the Priest sometime in the eleventh century, and the third was likely compiled during the early twelfth century under the direction of John the Compiler. Each version concerns the actions of the three founders of the monastery, Paldo, Tato, and Taso yet differs in certain key aspects. In the brief discussion to follow, I examine the three Vitae in the order in which they appear as well as miniatures that accompany these texts in the Chronicon.

715 Chron. Vult., 1:21: “Vos, ergo, fratres, qui hodie ad tanta sollempnia dedicacionis sancte huius ecclesie devotissime advenistis, ut peccatorum vestrorum indulgenciam accipere possitis, date confessionem domino Deo nostro.” 716 For consecration in French chronicles see, Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 79-81. 717 Gyug, “Reading for Ritual,” 561-2. 718 Spiegel, “Introduction,” 15. 205

According to the Vita of the abbey’s founders by Ambrosius Autpert (the earliest of the three vitae held in the Chronicon),719 Paldo, Tato, and Taso were young Beneventan nobles who left their home in search of a more holy way of living.720 As they wandered, they landed in the Benedictine monastery of Farfa. Farfa’s abbot, Thomas of Maurienne, offered hospitality to the nobles and instructed them in the monastic life for a short time. Soon, Paldo, Tato, and Taso’s families came from Benevento in search of them. When the Beneventan families begged the three young men to return home, Thomas of Maurienne intervened and suggested that Paldo, Tato, and Taso found their own monastery, closer to Benevento. Thomas told them about an oratory dedicated to St Vincent, which was located in a secluded and dense forest.721 The three nobles traveled to the oratory and began to lead an ascetic life there, soon gathering followers.

While Ambrosius’ version of the foundation legend stresses the poverty and asceticism of Paldo, Tato, and Taso, the Vita by Peter the Priest, which immediately follows Ambrosius’ Vita in the Chronicon, emphasizes the connection with Beneventan and Carolingian nobility to a greater extent. Ambrosius’ focus on the monastic purity of the abbey may be attributed to the fact that he wrote during a time of prosperity for San Vincenzo and financial precarity did not motivate Ambrose to focus on attracting new patrons by emphasizing the abbey’s wealth and prestige. Peter, on the other hand, wrote his Vita during the tenth or eleventh century, as the abbey attempted to recuperate its wealth, and so stressed its connection with powerful patrons. According to Peter’s account, after Paldo, Tato, and Taso began to gather followers at the oratory of St Vincent, the reputation of these monks reached the ears of the Lombard Duke Gisulf I (689-

719 Granier analysed the variances between the three vitae. Granier noted in particular that the second Vita of Paldo, Tato, and Taso by Peter the priest includes three differences from the version by Ambrosius Autpert (BHL 6415). First, it recounts the refoundation of Montecassino by Paldo, Tato, and Taso, who appoint abbot Petronax to Montecassino. Second, it emphasizes the monastic life at San Vincenzo in its early years. In this effort, Peter’s Vita includes two forgeries, one from Duke Gisulf I and the other from Charlemagne. Finally, the text does not consider the abbots who succeeded Taso in the same way that Ambrose’s version does. See Granier, “La fonction normative,” 154-5. 720 Chron. Vult., 1:104-6: “Tres igitur ex nobili genere horti, iure consanguinitatis propinqui, Paldo, Taso, et Tato fuerunt, viri Beneventani, et quibus Paldo ex uno, Taso vero et Tato ex altero fratre sunt procreati. . .” 721 Chron. Vult., 1:110-1: “Filii karissimi, audite consilium patris vestri et horum preces spernere nolite; ostendam vobis, si vultis, a Deo vobis locum preparatum. . . Est autem, dilectissimi filii, locus ad quom vos ire desidero in Samnii partibus super ripam Vulturni fluminis, ubi inicium sumit a mille fere passibus. in quo videlicet loco situm est oratorium martyris Christi Vincencii nomine dedicatum; ex utraque vero parte fluminis silva densissima, que habitacionem tantum prestat ferarum latibulaque latronum.” 206

706). He granted the monks of San Vincenzo lands, mountains, and churches, including jurisdiction over the inhabitants of the surrounding land.722

At this point in the manuscript, both a miniature depicting Duke Gisulf’s donation as well as a copy of the (interpolated) charter accompany Peter the Priest’s Vita.723 The miniatures that appear alongside the narratives and charters help to encode the texts with meaning. The miniatures were devised, probably under the direction of John specifically for the Chronicon, to visually demonstrate the bond between the abbey and its patrons. Of the thirty-nine miniatures in the Chronicon, twenty one portray a patron of the abbey in the act of handing a scroll to the monks of San Vincenzo.724 Similar to the miniature of Pope Urban II in the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae, the miniature of Duke Gisulf I in the Chronicon Vulturnense immortalizes both the written words of the duke as well as the symbolic and symbiotic act of donating to the monastery. The image shows Duke Gisulf handing a large and bright red unfurled scroll to monks of San Vincenzo. Since there are three figures, the monks likely represent Paldo, Tato, and Taso. On the huge scroll, one reads the first lines of the charter, repeated immediately below the image in the text. Gisulf gestures to the monks, offering the scroll, and the monks stretch out their hands to receive it. The monks stand before, almost blocking the open portal to the monastery. In fact, the monk who stands on the threshold of the monastery has one leg extended so that he stands with one foot in the monastic zone and the other mid-step into the lay world. The viewer can catch a glimpse of the monastery before which the exchange between the monks and the duke unfolds. It is fortified, with intricate architectural details, and a large chalice sits on an altar. Thus, beyond the portal, the spiritual life of the abbey is implicated. Behind the monks, the viewer can make out an altar with a liturgical chalice placed on top, representing the liturgical space of the abbey’s church and the daily practice of the monks. In this snapshot, the miniature encapsulates the imagined and ideal bond between a monastery and its patrons. While the ruler bestowed gifts and privileges to the monks, in exchange, the monastic community

722 Chron. Vult., 1:132: “Tunc ipse dux nimis illorum vitam et Christo amicam paupertatem cepit laudare et suppliciter eos exorare cum suis omnibus ut quaecumque sibi necessaria fuissent ab eo peter dignarentur . . . concederet eidem monasterio, tam presentibus Dei servis quam semper futuris, terras, vel montes adiacentes undique aut imminentes, per fines quos ipse decerneret; ecclesias quoque quae longe lateque ignibus combuste et a cunctis habitatoribus derelicte videbantur sub iurisdicione monasterii constitueret, quatenus ab eis restaurate, sibi proficerent in salutem.” 723 Chron. Vult., 1:132-6. 724 Sennis noted a very similar ratio for the Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae. Of the thirty eight miniatures in that chronicle, twenty three depict a sovereign or a pope granting a scroll to the monastery. See Sennis, “Tradizione monastica,” 196. 207

exercised its spiritual authority to offer prayers for the patron through the rites of the liturgy.725 Further, in this image, the figure of the duke can be taken in varying ways. Gisulf can be seen literally, as a figural representation of a historic moment in the abbey’s past during which the abbey entered a bond with a temporal patron. Simultaneously, the image of the duke can be interpreted symbolically because his action modeled the ideal bond between the monks of San Vincenzo and their noble patrons in future generations. Again, with this image, the modern (and medieval) reader can appreciate the fluidity between historical, liturgical, and hagiographical modes of representing the past. This fluidity unites the sources in the Chronicon, supplying a unified coherence to the abbey’s written history.

This reciprocity is echoed again in Peter’s Vita. Immediately following Gisulf’s donation, Peter recounted how rumors of San Vincenzo’s holiness had also arrived at Charlemagne’s court. Charlemagne led his magnates and a multitude of Frankish nobility to the monastery. The monks met the emperor and his party outside the monastery, carrying lanterns and incense. Charlemagne then laid prostrate before the cross in the abbey’s basilica and prayed. Following this, the monks and the nobles walked around the buildings of the entire monastery.726 After this procession, Charlemagne told them that he had never before seen or heard of monks of such piety, either in or other lands. Together with his magnates, bishops, abbots, dukes, and nobles, he granted gifts to the monastery in exchange for the salvation of his soul.727 As noted by Gyug, in this passage the Chronicon emphasized its relationship with Charlemagne through liturgical discourse and memory.728 It employed liturgical performance to act out, as it were, the

725 Much has been written on the economy of salvation. See especially Geary, Living with the Dead in the Middle Ages, ch. 4. For the gift economy and the exchange of prayers for the dead at Cluny, see Rosenwein, To Be the Neighbor of : The Social Meaning of Cluny’s Property, 909-1049 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989), 41 and ch. 4. 726 Chron. Vult., 1:137-8: “cumque omnia haec piissimus imperator audisset, omnipotenti Domino gratias referens, suos omnes exortare cepit, ut pro Dei amore et eius martryris Vincencii Christi famulos visitare et locum hunc conspicere deberent. Quod et factum est. Properant autem imperatore ad monasterium cum universis magnatibus suis et valida multitudine nobilium Francorum, sanctissimi patres cum sacro collegio monachorum eunt obviam cum cereis, lampadibus et diversis thimiamatibus atque cum magna animi exultacione illos in ecclesiam usque deducunt. Mox ergo imperator ante crucem prostratus diucius oravit, indeque surgens sanctorum vestigiis patrum advolitur et illorum pedes. . .simul cum eo deambulantes omnia monasterii edificia circumierunt.” 727 Chron. Vult., 1:138-9: “Iustum est ut a nostra excellencia tam religiosi et probabiles vite patres diciora et ampliora dona accipiant et locus iste ab imperiali potencia sublimetur, quatenus nos et nostri heredes cuntique nostri fideles, suffragante beatissimo levita et martire Vicencio et intercedentibus istis presentibus atque futuris Dei servis, mereamur accipere a piissimo Domino veniam et indulgenciam omnium peccatorum nostrum.” 728 Gyug, “Reading for Ritual,” 563. 208

relationship between the abbey and its donors. As in the account about Gisulf, another miniature depicts Charlemagne granting a scroll to the abbot of San Vincenzo, who stands before the open portal to the monastery where, once again, an altar and chalice can be seen in the background. A second charter, this time from Charlemagne, accompanies the miniature.729In the miniature, an imposing Charlemagne stands, larger than Duke Gisulf, holding a scepter. The abbot of San Vincenzo has stepped out of the church to greet the emperor.

John the Compiler’s Vita of Paldo, Tato, and Taso immediately follows the Vita by Peter the Priest. His text, entitled Qualiter Constantinus imperator primus construxit hic ecclesiam, relates how, long before the time of the three Beneventan nobles, Constantine the Great traveled to the Apennines. While he rested in a spot along the river Volturno, he had a miraculous vision of three saints: St Stephanus, St Laurentius, and St Vincent. According to the chronicler, Constantine had already built churches for Sts Stephanus and Laurentius, and Vincent had come to request his own. Upon waking, Constantine immediately ordered that an oratory be built.730 This oratory would be discovered three centuries later by Paldo, Tato, and Taso, thanks to Farfa’s intervention. John the Compiler’s text thus adds yet another strata of historical patronage to the abbey’s past and prefigures the discovery of the oratory by the abbey’s first three abbots with a miraculous vision of its saintly patron, which we will discuss below.

At the end of this source, John included a brief anecdote, which he entitled De monasterio S.

Benedicti quod ab eis restauratum.731 It appears as a sort of addendum to the legend about Constantine. De monasterio recounts how Paldo, Tato, and Taso helped Abbot Petronax of Montecassino (d. 747) restore his monastery after it had been destroyed during the Lombard raids of the seventh century. Since it is included as a part of his Vita and no other author is mentioned, scholars maintain that John the Compiler is also responsible for this text.732 Its attention to the historical relationship between Montecassino and San Vincenzo may have been

729 The date given in the charter is 715, a historical impossibility since Charlemagne was born in 742. The inaccurate date probably reflects the desire to place Charlemagne at the time of Paldo, Tato, and Taso. 730 Chron. Vult. 1: 147-9: “Porro hic tercius, iuvenili renitens flore, apud Cesaraugustam simili archiviaconatus pollens honore, Vincencius est martir, cuius forsan olim didicisti et nomen. si ergo nobis par est agone, par in certamine, par in labore, cur tibi dispar devocione? confestim, surgens de visione, locum perspicito haud procul aptum ab ortu fluminis ad mille passus, quo statim munere celesti fartus, illi templum construe aptum.” 731 Chron. Vult., 1:150. 732 Granier, “La fonction normative,” 155. 209

intended to emphasize the autonomy of San Vincenzo from Montecassino, which in the twelfth century, increasingly controlled the land around the abbey. Following De monasterio, there is a charter granted by Prince Arichis II to the monastery of San Vincenzo. The charter, according to the text, was made in the time of Abbot Tato (c. 760) and, in it, Arichis II confirmed all the donations made by Duke Gisulf I. Once again there is a miniature attached to the text in the chronicle. Like the other miniatures before it, this image portrays the Lombard prince handing a scroll to the three monks (again, perhaps Paldo, Tato, and Taso?). This time however, instead of an altar behind the monks, one of them holds a large and bejeweled book (perhaps a liturgical codex, a copy of a monastic regula, or maybe even the Chronicon itself), suggestive of the eventual preservation of Arichis’ donation in the abbey’s archival memory.

According to Antonio Sennis, these images represent the bonds that the monks held with varying ruling entities and the monastery’s ability to transcend political frontiers.733 This may be true but it seems also that the miniatures should not be studied as disembodied from the sources that surround them. Rather, they ought to be read as part of the charters and legendary sources. In this way, the miniatures implicate the spiritual life of the abbey within the accompanying texts and magnify the intertwining of historical, liturgical, and legendary memory throughout the Chronicon. In these images, John visualized the ritual economy of exchange, where monks would return their prayers for the support of patrons.734 Within these miniatures, John presented images of the abbey’s spiritual life and the rituals of the liturgy to emphasize San Vincenzo’s important role as a participant in the ritual gift economy, both in the past and the present. The miniatures of Charlemagne and Gisulf underscore that, in exchange for patronage, the abbey’s donors were remembered through the rituals of the sacred liturgy and daily spiritual life of the monks. In the miniature depicting Arichis II, John implied that powerful patrons were ingrained in the abbey’s memory. Screening the entrance to the monastery, the monks, from their foundation, stood as intermediaries between secular authorities and a holy life of continuous prayer.

733 Sennis, “Tradizione monastica,” 196-7. 734 Boynton, “Music and the Cluniac Vision of History,” 417; M. McLaughlin, Consorting with Saints: Prayer for the Dead in Early Medieval France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994), 138-53. 210

Furthermore, these images and texts embedded the action of the patronal support for San Vincenzo within a hagiographical foundation legend. In doing so, the Chronicon emphasizes that supporting the monastery through donations and protections was, in itself, a devotional act, a key part of sacred history. Thus, the images also made the patronage of the abbey a part of the sacred past, aligning the three spiritual founders, Paldo, Tato, and Taso, with temporal guardians, Gisulf I, Charlemagne, and Arichis II. This imagery would have made a compelling model for contemporary authorities in their relationship with the monks of San Vincenzo.

The Chronicon’s intertwining of donation and hagiography, of land transaction and the sacred past, gives order to the Chronicon as a whole.735 This is demonstrated visually through the miniatures of the abbey’s earliest abbots as well as through the inclusion of liturgical, legendary, and devotional material throughout the manuscript. It is a pattern we will see again when we discuss the inventiones throughout the Chronicon, especially that of St Martin de Monte Massico. For now, it is important to note that the memory of these lords and the pious foundations of the monastery served not only to preserve the origin stories for future generations of monks but also to create a model for the regional authorities in the twelfth century.736

Discovery and Memory in the Chronicon

Having examined the overall structure of the Chronicon and its use of hagiographical memory, especially in its foundation legends, it is now time to proceed to the inventiones held in the text. In the following pages, we will see that John used the theme of discovery in a variety of ways that do not always adhere to the boundaries of the genre we have studied previously in this dissertation. Nevertheless, the event of discovery, as in other inventiones, allowed John to creatively imagine the past. Through the discoveries and quasi-discoveries, as we will see, John was also able to address the contemporary needs of the community.

735 On the images of St Vincent in the Chronicon, see Sennis, “Tradizione monastica,” 195. 736 Granier sees the figures of Gisulf and Charlemagne as representatives of, on the one hand, a local ruler (Gisulf) and, on the other hand, a universal ruler (Charlemagne). See Granier, “La fonction normative,” 157; See also Sennis, “Tradizione monastica,” 198-9. For the donations of privileges in French monasteries, see Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 82: “Privileges, the explicitly structured relations between the abbey and the outside world, become the image of origins and of the abbey’s identity.” 211

The first inventio is the discovery of the oratory of St Vincent by Paldo, Tato, and Taso. This discovery is not emphasized in the first Vita by Ambrosius Autpert, composed in the eighth century. Ambrosius simply wrote that Thomas of Maurienne told Paldo, Tato, and Taso about the oratory. Ambrosius then proceeded to explain the ascetic life that the three Beneventan nobles led there. In the account by Peter the priest, on the other hand, the discovery of the cave oratory is more pronounced and follows some of the same themes found frequently in other inventio narratives.

In the Vita of Paldo, Tato, and Taso by Peter the priest, which may date to the eleventh century, Thomas of Maurienne does not merely instruct the three Beneventan nobles to seek out the oratory. Instead, the account indicates that Thomas prophesied the discovery of the oratory: “Thomas, opening his mouth, as we know well, spoke in a prophetic voice: ‘hear my words, dearest brothers, and believe them faithfully, because through the example of your action many shall enter the heavenly kingdom. . .You will discover near the mouth of the river Volturno on the banks of the river-bed an oratory of Vincent, the martyr of Christ.” Thomas goes on to describe the oratory as the ideal location for a monastery since it was sufficiently removed from the “tumults” of the secular world, located in a dense forest, safe and spacious.737

Paldo, Tato, and Taso set out as they were instructed. The three nobles traveled as pilgrims, carrying no food beyond what they could fit in their small satchels. Just as the abbot of Farfa had prophesied, they discovered the oratory of St Vincent (“invenerunt istic oratorium Beati Vincencii”). However, they were unable to find anything to eat or drink, except for the water of the river Volturno (“nulla vescendi aut bibendi preter fluminis aquam invenire potuerunt”). Exhausted, they lay on the ground and placed stones under their heads as pillows. A short time later, a mysterious man appeared before the oratory and said: “I heard that pilgrims had come here. I come from my herdsmen but I have here a small amount of grain and some wine.” Taso looked around for something to hold the food and wine in and finally discovered (“invenire”) a

737 Chron. Vult. 1:128-9: “venerabilis ille prudentissimus pater Thomas aperiens os suum prophetica, ut modo cognoscimus, voce, manifeste loquutus est, dicens : ‘Audite verba inea, karissimi fratres,et fiducialiter credite, quia per vestre accionis exemplum multi celeste ingredientur regnum; nunc autem ego vobis ostendam aptissimum locum, ab omnibus secularibus tumultibus remotum sciatis pro certo quia ibi adimplebit Deus desideria cordis vestri, et ibi facietis fluctum acceptabile omnipotenti Deo; invenietis enim prope capite Vulturni fluminis in ipsius alvei ripa positum oratorium Christi martyris Vincencii” 212

small bowl and a cup in the corner of the oratory, “where, at one time, the priest would have picked up the small basins offered when he came to this place to say mass once a year.” Having received the grain (farine) and wine, Paldo, Tato, and Taso gave thanks. According to Peter the priest’s Vita, Paldo, Tato, and Taso never learned who the generous but mysterious man was.738 However, a miniature placed earlier in the Chronicon, in the middle of Ambrosius’ Vita, shows clearly that the mysterious man was considered to have been an angel.739 Associated with the divine being, the objects discovered in the oratory, including the liturgical chalice, the food, and the wine, were indicators of the holiness of the monastery’s location. The implications of the celebration of the Eucharist in the farine and the vinum underscore the holiness of the discovered site and the virtue of the monks who inhabited it.

While this legend does not include a traditional inventio account in which the relics of a lost or forgotten saint were discovered, it approximates an inventio legend in a number of ways. First, the discovery of the oratory by Paldo, Tato, and Taso uses the prophetic instructions of a spiritual leader, a common trope in inventiones, and the eventual discovery of a holy place. In fact, holy spaces are commonly discovered in hagiographical sources, as a way to demonstrate the holiness of a community’s origin. Amy Remensnyder argues for the importance of revelations of space as one of the building blocks of legendary memory.740 Oftentimes, these accounts include a pilgrim stranger, like the mysterious shepherd, and a miraculous discovery that authenticates the holiness of a site.741

738 Chron. Vult., 1:129. The account by Peter reads: “post parvo intervallo noctis vir quidam ignotus venit ad eos, regiam oratorii tetigit dicens: ‘Qui est hic?’ exiliens venit ad eum tacitus venerabilis Taso, cui ille: ‘Audivi quod hic peregrini venissent: a pastoribus meis venio, sed habeo hic aliquantulum farine et in utre vinum: accipe si habe ubi’. Cum huc illucque vasculum quereret iam dictus Tasi invenit cupum apium iacentem et collocavit in eo ipsam farinam, deinde in angulo oratorii invenit parvam butticulam, ubi presbyter offerendas amulas suscipere solebat, quando ibidem missam semel in anno facere veniebat; lavit et effudit misitque in eam vinum. Ac deinceps nullus scire potuit quis ille fuisset qui hec optulit.” 739 The miniature is placed a few folios before Peter’s Vita, during the same scene in Ambrose’s Vita of Paldo, Tato, and Taso. Peter the priest clearly based his own rendition of this anecdote on Ambrose’s since the wording is very similar. Compare the note above with the following in Ambrose’s text (Chron. Vult., 1:113-4): “et ecce facto parvo intervallo, venit ad eos quidam homo ignotus nocturno silencio, regiamque oratorii pulsans, ait: ‘Quisnam hoc in loco quiescit?’ ad cuius vocem exiliens, tacitus venit ad eum venerabilis Taso. cui ille: ‘Audivi’, inquit, ‘a dicentibus quoniam hic peregrini adessent et propterea a pastoribus meis veniens, detuli modicum farine ac vini. Si habes ubi hoc quod attuli econdas, accipe.’ Tum ille quedam vascula repperiens, tanquam a Deo sibi oblata, suscepit que offerebantur. Quo adscendente, nullus deinceps compertus fuit quisnam ille fuisset, qui hoc munus gratanter optulisset.” 740 Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 54-5. 741 Remensnyder, Remembering Kings Past, 55. 213

These origin legends utilize the tropes of inventiones in part because they were established genres that helped to create usable pasts for an ecclesiastical community.742 One of the most circulated texts in medieval southern Italy, the Liber apparitionis sancti Michaeli, for example, does not include the discovery of sacred relics. Instead, it includes the discovery of a holy cave and liturgical objects, using much the same language as a more traditional inventio account would. Indeed, the Liber apparitionis and the celebration of the apparition of St Michael are sometimes entitled the Inventio S. Michaelis in eleventh- and twelfth-century lectionaries and sanctorales, such as Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare 1 and 35,743 because the narrative appropriated elements of inventiones in order to strengthen the claims of sanctity and historical prestige for the diocese of Siponto.744 In the eleventh-century Vita by Peter the priest as well as the twelfth-century Chronicon Vulturnense, the revelatory tone of the discovery of the oratory helped to establish that the foundation of the monastery was a miraculous event. The appropriation of the lexicon of inventiones helped to reinforce this. In addition to the discovery of the oratory, the discovery of the wine cup and bowl used previously in masses, and the holy food helped to signify that the oratory was a sacred space; the appearance of an angelic figure (the mysterious man), strengthens this impression. In this case, the site of the future monastery replaces saintly relics. In this sense, the monastery itself was treated as if it were a holy relic. Indeed, the action of discovery is reiterated through the mere repetition of the word “invenire.”

The practice of integrating aspects of inventiones and their ensuing translationes was a way that historiographers and hagiographers could authenticate their legends, as Monika Otter demonstrates regarding historians in twelfth-century England.745 Even though relics had not been discovered, the repetition of the process of discovery coupled with the miraculous nature of the

742 Geary, Phantoms of Remembrance, 7-9. 743 For the celebration of the inventio s. Michaelis in Beneventan sources see Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 3: 846-7 (Mss. 1, 20, 21, 35, 42, 44, 66); In addition to these, there is also a homiliary of Ottobeuren, held in Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale Vittorio Emanuele II, MS 1190, fols. 250v-251. Here, the Liber is also referred to as the Inventio sancti archangeli Michaeli. There is some disagreement over the date of this homiliary. It has been dated to the early ninth century by B. Bischoff in Die südostdeutschen Schreibschulen und Bibliotheken in der Karolingerzeit (Leipzig: O. Harrassowitz, 1940-80), 52-3 and Brown and E. A. Lowe, The Beneventan Script: A History of the South Italian Minuscule (Rome: Edizioni di storia e letteratura, 1980), 2:125-6. E.G. Millar has dated the homiliary to the late eighth century, with Benevento as a potential origin in The Library of A. Chester Beatty: A Descriptive Catalogue of the Western Manuscripts by George Millar (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1927), 1:2-18. 744 The Liber de apparitione [BHL 5948] is edited in MGH SRLI, 541-3. On the text’s interest in the see of Siponto, see Everett, “The Liber de apparitione s. Michaelis in Monte Gargano and the Hagiography of Dispossession,” Analecta Bollandiana 120 (2002): 364-91. 745 Otter, Inventiones, 38. 214

account illustrated that the oratory was an ancient and holy space. Indeed, according to Otter, “the standard inventio narrative carried such strong connotations of ‘truth’ that it was worthwhile to adapt the model.”746 In addition, the standard inventio and the ritual translatio also carried strong liturgical connotations, since they both recalled a liturgical moment and the sources were most commonly read and heard in the liturgy. Therefore, the inclusion of the story in the monastic chronicle gave the entire legend a spiritual importance and rooted it in the sacred time enacted by the liturgy, the cornerstone of the monastic life. Through the use of predictable and established models, the discovery of St Vincent’s oratory likewise connected the abbey to a wider sense of sacred history.747

A similar method of describing the past occurs in the second quasi-inventio account in the Chronicon Vulturnense. In this story, it is not the monastic space that is transformed into a discovered relic but instead members of the monastic community after the 881 destruction of the abbey. This inventio is found in the text entitled the Ystoria decollatorum nungentorum monachorum huius monasterii, written by an abbot of San Vincenzo named John. As mentioned, this text recounts the history of the abbey from its early years through the Saracen invasion of 881. The first portion of the Ystoria is almost purely historical. It covers the genealogies of the Lombard rulers, the invasions of Charlemagne, and negotiations between the abbots of San

Vincenzo and temporal authorities.748 Here, the author of the Ystoria used Erchempert’s Historia Langobardorum as one of his primary sources for information on the Carolingians and the Lombards. The purpose of the source is clear. In the prologue, John wrote that:

Following the truthful lines of historians as much as adding what I have learned from the reports of spiritual fathers, I should leave the memory of the saintly fathers killed for Christ as an image of piety for those who will come after me. Truthfully, killed for Christ they lay dead, who harmoniously passing their days under the institutes of the holy law, merited this end by the grace of Christ, that following Christ they may reach him through a labor of great love, and by the red blood of their passion, decorated by the sevenfold gift of the Holy Spirit, they seized the blessed crown of perpetual triumph. Therefore, because we especially regard them to be worthy and perpetual onlookers of this place and unending granters of favors, it is fitting that their memory be celebrated by all every year in a most dignified manner, so that we might earn their prayers and blessings, as well as

746 Otter, Inventiones, 38. 747 Otter, Inventiones, 40. 748 Chron. Vult., 1:347-360. 215

those of all the saints, to be saved from the dangers of this world and the evils of enemies, and we may receive remittance of our sins.749

Et tamen veridicas sequentes lineas historiographorum, quam ex relacione patrum religiosorum, que didicimus adicientes, posteris nostris, pietatis exemplo, sanctorum patrum nostrorum pro Christo occisorum memoriam relinquamus. Re enim vera pro Christo occisi occubuerunt, qui longo vite sue tempore sub instituta sancte legis unanimes conversantes Christi gracia ad hoc pertingere meruerunt, ut Christo ministrantes ipsum sequerentes usque ad opus magne caritatis, ac roseo cruore sue passionis septemplici Spiritus Sancti munere decorati, perpetui triumphi caperent dyadema beatum. Ergo quia non inmerito illos loci huius semper inspectores, ac bonorum iugiter suffragatores, specialius esse confidimus, oportet ut annis singulis eorum memoria ab omnibus dignissime celebretur, quatenus tam eorum, quam et omnium sanctorum meritis et precibus de mundi periculis ac inimicorum insidiis eripi mereamur, et peccatorum nostrorum veniam consequamur.

Here, John made clear that the monks, who were martyred in the 881 attack, were integrated in the annual celebrations of the saints in San Vincenzo. The Ystoria, therefore, was a crucial part of the process of establishing their sanctity. While not strictly bound by the genre of hagiography, the Ystoria nevertheless served a similar function of incorporating the memory of the saintly monks within the cyclical remembrances celebrated throughout the liturgical year in the abbey.

As mentioned by John, much of the Ystoria is based on the “truthful lines” of historians, like Erchempert. However, the tone of the Ystoria abruptly changes when the author reaches the Saracen invasion of 881. Here, the text details the tragic massacre of the monks of the monastery and transitions from a historical overview to a devotional legend of the martyrdom of the monks of San Vincenzo. According to the Ystoria, when the Saracen armies reached San Vincenzo, they set the abbey on fire. While many of the monks fought to defend the abbey, the soldiers killed the senior monks who had remained in the monastery. Their blood, “poured out for Christ”, marked the stones and walls of the monastery. The author even attested that their blood still bore witness to the massacre in the time he was writing, possibly the tenth or eleventh century. The Saracen warriors plundered the monastery of its sacred treasures and drank from their liturgical chalices (an inversion of the discovery of the chalice in the Vita of Paldo, Tato and Taso?). Following this description, the author provided a precise dating for the event: “This massacre of

749 Chron. Vult., 1:346. 216

the blessed monks for Christ occurred on the tenth day in the month of October, on the third day of the week . . . in the one hundred and sixtieth year from the foundation of this monastery.”750 The provision of this date was a form of commemoration, like a feast day of a saint or an annual liturgical celebration, so that the community could preserve not only the event but the exact date of the massacre.

Immediately after this, the Chronicon includes twenty-four couplets in the form of a planctus complete with musical notation, written for Gregorian chant.751 The planctus interrupts the narrative of the Ystoria and, although it was added by a different hand, it appears to be an original feature of the manuscript. The verses recount the destruction of the monastery and the slaughter of the monks, whose “bodies lay on the ground, blood spilled.” The neumes above the first distich of the planctus were made by yet another scribe, likely at a later date, and attest to the probability that the hymn was sung aloud in the monastery over a period of time.752

750 Chron. Vult., 1:365: “Facta est hec cedes beatorum pro Christo monachorum decimo die mensis octubris, feria tercia, qua secunda lux Lucine rotam ducebat, ab edificacione vero ipsius monasterii iam iverat annus centesimus sexagesimus quintus.” 751 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 144. 752 Chron. Vult., 1:366-7. In his commentary on the planctus, 1:336, n. 4. The planctus reads as follows: Tybia nunc dicat, mea luctu corda recisa Quis subito miseris, funera tanta tulit: Et populis varios clamores reddat ab alto, Quos faciat casus posse referre suos. pariter Muse gemitu redeant resolute, Dulce quod est nimium ductier exicium. Carminibus planctum propriis coniungere tantum, Ut simul astra sonent, cantica tristia dent. Cum domus ista perit, multos hac peste peremit, Ethnica iam venit, querula turba fremit. Fert monachis bellum, tulit unde reflexa flagellum, Et dedit arma super femineamque fidem. Rustica servorum facit hoc manus impia donum, Percutit ipsa suos hac nece sic Dominos. Castra petunt fortes, concurrunt ocius hostes, Corruit alta domus, moenia cuncta ruunt. Non etas tempus, iuvenis, puer atque senectus Excipitur hic sanguis, iaciuntur corpora campis, Spiritus et celo dant iure Deo. Fit rebus finis, non bellis, armaque viris Sanguine respersis, signa fuisse Dei. Et procul Emathios ostendunt florida campos, Cespis purpureum continet ipsa decus. 217

Although the planctus was an ancient genre, most commonly used to mourn a friend or a ruler, the genre had gained popularity in monasteries by the eleventh and twelfth centuries as a way for monks to mourn a loss to their communities.753 The exact time a planctus was recited in a monastery is unclear. Although it was lyric in nature, the planctus was not strictly speaking liturgical since it appeared in a variety of sources, such as songs of deeds (chansons de geste), and could cover a secular topic.754 However, in the monastic setting, it is possible that the planctus could have taken on a paraliturgical function, used perhaps during a funeral mass.755 In the case of the planctus in the Chronicon Vulturnense, the subject matter does not immediately reveal a liturgical context, since it deals primarily with the heroism of the monks during the 881 massacre. However, given the devotional focus on the martyrdom of the monks, the dating that precedes the hymn, and the musical notation, it may be that the planctus was sung on October 10 every year, during the annual commemoration of the event indicated by John’s prologue. Indeed, to this day, on October 10, the Benedictine community of San Vincenzo celebrates the anniversary of the 881 attack at the Chiesa Abbaziale.756 During this celebration, the planctus is sung.757

After the planctus, the theme of martyrdom takes on a more pronounced hagiographical tone in the remainder of the Ystoria. Here, we find the second quasi-inventio we will explore. After the martyrdom of the senior monks, those few who remained were chained and taken into custody. Meanwhile, the grounds of the monastery “perspired with the blood of the monks,” whose bodies were left behind. Finally, after a short time, “certain men” found and collected the bodies of these monks. They were taken in the most dignified manner to lay with the others who were

753 On the genre in general, see C. Cohen, “Les éléments constitutifs de quelques planctus des Xe et XIe siècles,” Cahiers de civilisation médiévale 1 (1958): 83-6; B. McGuire, “Monks and Tears, a Twelfth-Century Change,” in The Difficult Saint: and his Tradition (Kalamazoo: The Liturgical Press, 1991), 133-53. 754 The discussion on the planctus as a genre predominantly concerns the planctus of Abelard. See J. Feros Ruys, The Repentant Abelard: Family, Gender, and Ethics in Peter Abelard’s Carmen ad Astralabium and Planctus (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2014); N. Bell, “Les planctus d'Abélard et la tradition tardive du planctus,” in Pierre Abélard: Colloque international de Nantes, ed. J. Jolivet and H. Habrias (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2003), 261- 6. 755 S. Boynton, “From the Lament of Rachel to the Lament of Mary: A Transformation in the History of Drama and Spirituality,” in Signs of Change: Transformations of Christian Traditions and their Representation in the Arts, 1000- 2000, ed. N. Holger Petersen, C. Clüver and N. Bell (Boston: Brill, 2004), 319-40. 756 See the digital calendar of professions on the abbey’s website: http://abbaziasanvincenzo.org/evento/professione- semplice-di-sr-maria-gabriela/ 757 Hodges, Light in the Dark Ages, 144. 218

buried in the church and were venerated there, like Abbot Maio of San Vincenzo.758 “Do you imagine how many thousands of angels arrived, who transferred the spirits of the blessed monks to heaven?” Not only angels, the author wrote, but St Vincent himself preceded the monks to the celestial kingdom.759

Here, again, we are given an approximation of a discovery and translation. The bodies of the monks, left behind after the Saracen attack, their blood staining the ground as a permanent reminder of their martyrdom, are collected and translated into the abbey church. It does not seem to bother the author that the church had only a short time before been burned by the Saracen armies. Instead, for Abbot John, the purpose of the Ystoria was, as he mentioned in the prologue, to commemorate the martyrdom of these monks, “so that it may be celebrated annually.” By establishing that the bodies of his predecessors had been treated in the same manner as the relics of ancient saints, through translation and enshrinement following the discovery of their bodies, John authenticated the commemoration of their sanctity. Their relics were not lost to oblivion but preserved through the rituals that established and verified sanctity. In the same way that the discovery of the oratory imagined the locus of the abbey as if it were a relic, the “discovery” and enshrinement of the monks’ bodies imagined the community of monks as saintly by remembering it through the same rhetoric found in the hagiographical lexicon of inventiones and their ensuing translationes.

Sources like the Vitae of Paldo, Tato, and Taso and the Ystoria, while written for the first time centuries before the Chronicon, took on new meaning when they were compiled in the abbey’s written history. They served to connect the abbey to a usable past and preserve the sanctity of its foundation. In these contexts, inventiones were efforts of remembering and, therefore, also ways of writing history. While characteristically inventiones and similar legenda may have been used originally in the celebration of the monastic office or the liturgical life of the abbey, their

758 Chron. Vult., 1:368: “horum beata corpora post a quibusdam collecta, aliisque coniuncta, qui in eadem ecclesia occubuerunt, dignissime ibidem reconditi venerantur. Simul quoque cum eis passus venerandus abbas recubat Maio.” 759 Chron. Vult., 1:369: “Quanta putas angelorum milia tunc advenisse, qui beatorum animas ad ecclesia transferrent? et si singuli singulorum custodes a Deo deputati animarum eas perferre sathagebant ad sublimem eterni regis palacium, tamen plures additi, non solum angelorum, sed et preciosorum martyrum, spiritus obviam facti cum stolis albis et palmis victricibus celestis regis preconia resonantes supernis miscent laudes tropheis Rutilans cum istis celsis, (comptus) serta topaciis beatus martyr inclitus archilevita procedit Vincencius.”

219

appearance in the Chronicon reveals the reciprocity between liturgy, historical writing, and collective memory.

The Monastery of San Martino in the Chronicon

Having seen the ways in which hagiographical, liturgical, and devotional sources, including inventio-type stories, served as a backbone to the abbey’s written history in the Chronicon Vulturnense, we will now turn to an inventio sequence including several narrative sources that recall the quasi-discovery and attempted translation of the relics of St Martin de Monte Massico. Like the discovery of the oratory by Paldo, Tato, and Taso, in the Vita by Peter the Priest, the inventiones of St Martin are, not strictly speaking, discoveries. The location of the saint’s relics, as we will soon see, was well-known and so there was no need for a divine revelation, a common attribute of an inventio. However, the narratives about St Martin’s relics follow the structure of an inventio sequence and utilize the specific vocabulary thereof so closely that it seems likely that the authors had inventiones in mind when they composed their texts. The inventio of St Martin’s relics held in the Chronicon and indeed the entire sequence of charters documenting the relationship between the monastery of San Martino and San Vincenzo underscores the sense that, while the Chronicon was rooted in the past, it also strongly communicated the concerns of the abbey’s twelfth-century contemporary situation through the intertwining of diplomatic and devotional sources. In particular, the discovery of St Martin’s relics responded directly to competing claims made by the new Norman ecclesiastical administration that threatened the authority of San Vincenzo al Volturno.

St Martin de Monte Massico was a sixth-century hermit monk, who dwelled alone in a cave oratory. By the late eleventh century his cult had attracted the attention not only of the monks of San Vincenzo but also the ecclesiastical leadership of the diocese of Carinola, which lies at the base of Monte Massico. Later on, Peter the Deacon (d. 1159), the famed twelfth-century Montecassino historian and forger, who compiled a chartulary known as the Registrum Petri Diaconi beginning in the course of the 1130s, also wrote a legend about St Martin. The latter will be discussed in more detail below.760 The competition surrounding St Martin’s relics between San Vincenzo, the diocese of Carinola, and Montecassino led to a series of texts that used

760 W. Pohl, “History in Fragments: Montecassino’s Politics of Memory,” Early Medieval Europe 10 (2001): 357. 220

discovery, memory, and oblivion in order to refute the contemporary claims of others. Amalia Galdi, Hugo Zannini, and Giuseppe Guadagno have focused studies on the sources composed under Bishop Bernard of Carinola and Peter the Deacon, with relatively less attention to the claims made and mechanisms used in the Chronicon.761

The earliest source of information on St Martin’s life comes from the Dialogues of Gregory the Great. In book three, Gregory wrote that he learned of St Martin from Pope Pelagius and many other holy men.762 St Martin was a venerable man living in the region of Campania. He led a solitary life for many years in a cave on a mountain called Montemarsico, present day Monte Massico in Caserta. As a sign of his holiness, when he arrived on the mountain, a spring emerged from the rocky cliffside, “which was sufficient for St Martin’s daily use.” Gregory wrote that while on the mountain Martin overcame torments by demons, healed a young boy who had fallen head first off the mountain, and miraculously moved a very large rock.

Gregory’s Vita S. Martini also relates that St Benedict himself instructed St Martin in the monastic life. The story goes that St Martin had bound his feet with iron chains and affixed them to the stones of his cave, so that he would not be tempted to leave. Hearing of this extreme measure, St Benedict traveled up Monte Massico to visit St Martin. Montecassino is not a far distance from Monte Massico, about forty miles, and from the cave oratory Monte Cassino is just visible to the naked eye. In the legend, Benedict told Martin “if you are a , do not bind yourself with chains of iron, but with the chains of Christ.”763 To this, Martin loosened the chains but remained in the oratory for the remainder of his life. Soon, he attracted followers, who lived on the mountain near his cave and built a small monastery. These monks, we are told, constructed a well from the spring that had miraculously appeared. After Martin’s death, his relics were kept in his cave and guarded by future generations of monks.

761 U. Zannini, “San Martino eremita: vita e culto di un santo attraverso le falsificazione medievali,” in U. Zannini and Giuseppe Guadagno, S. Martino e S. Bernardo (Marina di Minturno: Istituto Grafico Editoriale Italiano, 1997), 16-7; Guadagno, “Bernardo, Carinola, e Foro Claudio tra falsificazioni e verità storiche,” in San Martino e S. Bernardo, 66- 98; Galdi, Santi, 153-72; 247-54. 762 Gregory the Great, Dialogi Gregorii magni: libri IV, ed. U. Moricca, Fonti per la storia d’Italia 57 (Rome: Istituto storico italiano, 1924); The Vita S. Martini (BHL 5601) (excerpted from Gregory’s Dialogues) is also published in AASS October 10, pp. 831-833 (the following discussion is based on the edition in AASS): “Nuper quoque in parte Campaniae vir valde venerabilis, Martinus nomine, in Montemarsico solitariam vitam duxit, multisque annis in specu angustissimo inclusus fuit . . . De quo multa ipse et beatae memoriae papa Pelagio, decessore meo, et aliis religionissimis viris narrantibus agnovi.” 763 Gregory the Great, Vita Sancti Martini, 832: “Si servus Dei es, non teneas te catena ferri, sed catena Christi.” 221

St Benedict died in 547 and Pope Pelagius (Gregory’s source for the legend of St Martin) was born around 520 and reigned as pope from 579 till 590 before his death.764 If Gregory’s story is true, Martin would have inhabited his cave sometime prior to Benedict’s death. Indeed, physical remains of the monastery (including the walls of a cloister) corroborate the existence of a monastic community on Monte Massico. Although all that remains of the monastery is now in ruins, external walls (Fig. 6), the remains of two wells (Fig. 7), and the cave oratory itself (Fig. 8) still survive on Monte Massico, although Martin’s relics now reside in nearby Carinola. The remains of the monastery of San Martino do not give a clear indication of how many monks once inhabited the mountain. According to the legend written by Peter the Deacon, as many as three- hundred monks were present on Monte Massico during a Saracen invasion of the ninth century. Such a high number is likely an exaggeration given Peter’s well-known proclivity towards falsification.765 Earlier mentions of the monastery in the Chronicon Vulturnense, however, give the sense that the monastery was an important place of regional devotion in northern Campania and may have contained a large community of monks.

764 Zannini, “San Martino Eremita,” 16-7. 765 Peter the Deacon, “Opus (Adelberti diac. in Montemarsico?) de translatione tentata saec. VIII et de miraculo saec. IX,” (BHL 5601b), ed. H. Moretus, Analecta Bollandiana 25 (1906): 251 and Peter the Deacon, Vita, translatio et Miracula S. Martini abbatis (BHL 5604), AASS October 10, 835-838: “Euntes autem monachi, numero trecenti, armavere se contra Agarenos . . . ” 222

Figure 6 External edifice of San Martino, Monte Massico, Caserta (Photo: B. Riley).

Figure 7 Remains of a cistern on Monte Massico, Caserta (Photo: B. Riley).

223

Figure 8 Cave oratory of St Martin de Monte Massico with view of altar built for St Martin’s relics (Photo: B. Riley).

San Martino also represented an important space of popular worship from its foundation through the twelfth century. St Martin himself boasted of a prestigious past. He was an ancient hermit saint, associated with St Benedict, and mentioned by Gregory the Great. In addition to this, his hermit dwelling was located on a mountain already known for its holiness since it had an ancient 224

shrine to Apollo. Standing ruins reveal that Monte Massico was a busy thoroughfare in the ancient and early medieval period. With Roman roads leading up the mountain, the shrine of Apollo, and the location of St Martin’s relics, Monte Massico was a well-trafficked terrain. In fact, the monastery of San Martino itself was eventually configured in order to accommodate the passage of pilgrims visiting the cave oratory of Saint Martin, which was located on the north-east side of the mountain.766 Access to the cave oratory was by way of a narrow walkway that circumvented the external walls of the monastery, so pilgrims would not have to enter the monastery’s wall’s (Fig. 9). Inside the narrow cave, an altar was placed before St Martin’s relics and colorful frescoes covered the ogive arch-vaulted ceiling of the oratory.767

Figure 9 Narrow pathway to the cave oratory (Photo: C. Jensen).

766 Zannini, “San Martino,” 39. 767 Zannini, “San Martino,” 43-4; A. Acconci and M. Piccirillo, “L’oratorio rupestre di San Martino in clivo montis marsici, Monte Massico (Caserta),” Arte Medievale 4.2 (2005): 9-30. 225

In addition to Gregory the Great’s sixth-century account of the foundation of San Martino, most information concerning the monastery is found in the Chronicon Vulturnense. While there is much to be learned about San Martino from the Chronicon we must place this information within the overall context of the motivations to preserve and organize San Vincenzo’s past. We will see that the references to San Martino in the Chronicon are interwoven with John the Compiler’s desire to reinforce San Vincenzo’s historical wealth and, more importantly, its connections to an ancient network of powerful patrons and a sacred landscape. That said, some of the documents regarding San Martino held in the Chronicon are considered to have been interpolated, probably during the twelfth century. While I will identify when a document is thought to have been interpolated, this study is more concerned with how the references to San Martino fit in with the wider objectives of the Chronicon.

According to the Chronicon, Duke Romulad II of Benevento (703-729) granted land on and around Monte Massico to San Martino.768 Some years later, the Chronicon tells us, Romuald II’s son, Gisulf II of Benevento (742-750), confirmed San Martino’s possessions.769 These donations do not appear in the Chronicon as copies of charters nor do any extant charters survive outside the Chronicon that confirm these donations. Instead, a 976 document regarding a dispute over land on Monte Massico between the monastery and local nobility, records that these grants took place in the past. The remembered eighth-century land donations from the Beneventan lords reinforced San Martino’s claims to the territory on Monte Massico in the tenth century.770 Federici considered that the donation to San Martino made first by Duke Romuald II and then later confirmed by Gisulf II was not transcribed into the Chronicon because the original document was lost.771

Elsewhere in the Chronicon, we are told that the rights granted by Romulad II and Gisulf II were re-confirmed and expanded by Arichis II (754-787).772 Again, there is no actual charter copied in the Chronicon nor is there any additional source to corroborate this claim. Instead, the Chronicon

768 Chron. Vult., 3:127 769 Chron. Vult., 2: 234-5 770 Chron. Vult., 3:126-7; Codice Diplomatico Longobardo, eds. L. Schiaparelli and C. Bruhe, Vol. 4.2, I Diplomi dei duchi di Benevento, ed. H. Zielinski (Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 2003), 186-7. 771 Chron. Vult., 3:125-7. 772 Chron. Vult., 1: 303; 3:133-4: “. . .adiciens et alia plura, quae infra fluvium, qui dicitur Carnellus (present day Gargliano), et sicut decurrit rivus Saonis, qui de Saxo procedit (near the mouth of the Volturno) designata sunt.” 226

tells of this donation within the wider narrative of the attempted translatio of St Martin’s relics from Monte Massico to Benevento during Arichis II’s reign. After Arichis failed to translate the hermit’s relics from the mountain to Benevento, he confirmed the donations given to the monastery by his predecessors. Then, the Lombard prince added to Romuald and Gisulf’s donation the fertile land between the Carnellus and the Savone rivers. The lack of supporting evidence for these transactions has left some room for suspicion. Despite this, Federici and others have not taken the lack of external copies of these donations as definitive proof that the land transactions did not occur.773 What is certain is that these donations became ingrained within the historical memory of San Vincenzo when they were transcribed within the abbey’s chronicle.

In the Chronicon, the next chronological reference to San Martino comes in a copy of a document attributed to the year 800. In this charter, a Lombard noble by the name of Radeprandus confirmed the possessions of San Vincenzo al Volturno throughout Campania. Included among these holdings was the “peak of the mountain, where the monastery of San Martino has been constructed.” Following these words, the twelfth-century scribe interpolated the words “subiectum predicto monasterio Sancti Vicencii” (“subject to the aforementioned monastery of San Vincenzo.”), in reference to San Martino.774 While this document claims that San Martino belonged to San Vincenzo in the early ninth century, Federici cautiously argued that the monastery would not be officially subject to San Vincenzo until the second half of the tenth century.775 Another interpolation comes in the text known as the Ystoria, examined above. Here, we are told that in the time of Prince Sicard (832-839), “the monastery of San Martino and Santa Cruce on Monte Marsico were given by the Beneventans to the monastery of most blessed

Vincent.”776 Again, since there are no corroborating charters to support the claims of the

Chronicon, the reliability of this transaction has been questioned by scholars.777 However, it is

773 Acconci and Piccirillo, “L'oratorio rupestre,” 12-3. 774 Chron. Vult., 1:251. 775 See Federici’s comments, Chron. Vult., 1:250, n. 1; Acconci and Piccirillo, “L’oratorio rupestre,” 29. 776 Chron. Vult., 1:355: “His diebus monasterium Sancti Martini et Sancte Crucis in monte Marsico a Beneventanis commutata sunt in monasterio Beatissimi Vicencii. . .” 777 Zannini, “San Martino,” 30, n. 66; Acconci and Piccirillo, “L’oratorio rupestre,” 13. Zannini, unlike Federici, saw no reason to doubt that the alleged donation of Sicard was authentic. He argued that both the monastery of San Martino and the cell of Santa Cruce, also located on Monte Massico, were granted to San Vincenzo by Sicard in exchange for the Beneventan churches of Sant Lupulus and Zozimus. 227

important to note that it may have mattered little to the compiler that the original charters were not copied verbatim in the Chronicon or that they may even have ceased to exist. As Constance Bouchard has shown, monastic chartularies at times became suitable substitutes for original charters. Cartularies, according to Bouchard, were seen less as guides to a monastery’s possessions and more as proof itself; their contents, in a sense, replaced original documents.778 More importantly, the interpolations in the Chronicon reveal how the twelfth-century community of San Vincenzo envisioned its past bond with San Martino. The interpolations in the ninth- century documents, which distinguished San Martino as a dependency of San Vincenzo, reveal the need to revisit the past bonds between San Martino and San Vincenzo, emphasizing the latter’s historical claims. By articulating San Martino’s subordination to San Vincenzo, the chronicler (re)wrote his abbey’s history so that its claims in the twelfth century would be made stronger.

Despite Federici’s hesitancy to accept the Chronicon’s claims that San Martino was subject to San Vincenzo by the ninth century, evidence outside the Chronicon exists that demonstrates the close ties between the two communities at this point. This evidence comes in the form of the frescoes that adorn the walls of St Martin’s cave oratory. The paintings inside the oratory date from various moments in history, from the early middle ages until the eighteenth century. While they are in poor condition due to being exposed to the elements, the frescoes inside the cave oratory nevertheless offer some insight into the connections between San Vincenzo and San Martino. Here, we will consider primarily those that are thought to have originated from the ninth century, because they may illustrate a connection between San Martino and San Vincenzo during this period. A series of frescoes in the oratory have been linked with the paintings in San

Vincenzo that date to around the time of Abbot Epiphanius (824-842),779 who, according to the

Chronicon, was previously a monk of San Martino before coming to San Vincenzo.780 In the cave, several haloed figures can be discerned on the eastern wall of the oratory. In a 2005 survey of the frescoes, Acconci and Piccirillo suggested that one of the characters in this sequence depicts St Martin himself while another figure may show the Virgin Mary (Figs.10-12), since a

778 Bouchard, Rewriting, 35. 779 Acconci and Piccirillo, “L’oratorio,” 20-2. 780 Chron. Vult., 1:288: “Epyphanius abbas Sancti Vincencii, prefuit annos xvii menses xi et dies viii. Hic fuit de Sancto Martino in monte Marsico.” 228

crowned female and the contours of a veil can be identified. This image of the Virgin Mary inside Martin’s cave bears stylistic similarities to depictions of the Virgin Mary in a cycle of frescoes in the crypt of Epiphanius in San Vincenzo.781 Both the fresco of the Virgin in Epiphanius’ crypt and that in San Martino’s cave are clothed and crowned in a similar fashion, according to Acconci and Piccirillo.782 Abbot Epiphanius commissioned the images in the crypt of San Vincenzo between 826 and 842 and is even pictured among the living in this series of frescoes, kneeling at the foot of a cross. If Acconci and Piccirillo are correct that the frescoes in the cave of San Martino and those in Epiphanius’ crypt of San Vincenzo are connected, either because they were done by the same artists or commissioned by Epiphanius himself (who had a strong connection with San Martino), the frescoes inside the cave may confirm the beginnings of the bond of dependency between San Vincenzo and San Martino in the second quarter of the ninth century. This connection reveals one way in which the monastery of San Martino could have been brought within the orbit of San Vincenzo. In this context, the paintings inside the cave of St Martin point to the importance that the community of San Vincenzo placed upon the shrine and cult of St Martin as well as the bond shared between the monks of San Vincenzo and San Martino by the ninth century.

781 Acconci, Piccirillo, “L’oratorio,” 20. On the frescoes in Epiphanius’ crypt, see Fernanda de Maffei, “Le arte a San Vincenzo al Volturno: il ciclo della cripta di Epifanio,” in Una grande abbazia altomedievale, 269-352; de Maffei, “Roma, Benevento, S. Vincenzo al Volturno e l’Italia settentrionale,” Commentari 14 (1973): 255-84; J. Mitchell, “The Painted Decoration of the Early Medieval Monastery,” in San Vincenzo al Volturno: The Archaeology, Art, and Territory of an Early Medieval Monastery, 125; G. Basile, “Il restauro delle decorazioni murali della cripta dell’abate Epifanio e degli ambienti attigui dell’abbazia di S. Vincenzo al Volturno,” Arte Medievale 11.1-2 (1997): 171-197. 782 Acconci, Piccirillo, “L’oratorio,” 20. 229

Figure 10 Monte Massico, eastern wall of cave oratory, depicting St Martin? (Photo: C. Jensen).

230

Figure 11 Monte Massico, eastern wall of cave oratory, fresco depicting Virgin Mary? (Photo: C. Jensen).

231

Figure 12 Monte Massico, detail of fresco on eastern wall of cave oratory depicting Virgin Mary? (Photo: B. Riley).

The Chronicon is silent regarding San Martino between the late ninth century and the first half of the tenth century. This is likely because it was the period in which the monks of San Vincenzo were in exile in Capua. However, starting in the middle of the tenth century, San Vincenzo’s interest in San Martino and the land on Monte Massico is more pronounced. Of the nine land 232

transactions in the Chronicon that pertain to San Martino, five come from the tenth century. The earliest of these comes in a copy of a charter from 944, in which Pope Marinus II (932-946) confirmed San Vincenzo’s possessions, including the monastery of San Martino and the monastery of Santa Cruce on Monte Massico. Following this, a document attributed to 962 from the Emperor Otto I (962-973) confirms San Vincenzo’s possession of the cella of San

Martino.783 A 963 charter held in the Chronicon records the donation of a church of Santa Maria in Carinola as well as land purchased in Capua to the community of San Martino. In this document, San Martino is cited as subject to the monastery of San Vincenzo, “where Paul resides as abbot.”784 This charter also implies that San Vincenzo benefitted from its ties to San Martino. As the monastery of San Martino accumulated wealth in nearby settlements like Carinola, which lay at the base of Monte Massico, so too did San Vincenzo’s patrimony over the region expand.

The aforementioned 976 document, which referenced the donations to San Martino from Gisulf and Romuald, also provides clear evidence of San Vincenzo’s claims to San Martino in the late tenth century. This document records a lengthy court case between Atenolfus and Landuldus, counts of the city of Sessa (present day , which is very close to Monte Massico), and the monks of San Martino. The judgement settled a dispute over the use of the land on Monte Massico, which had, according to the charter, long been recognized as belonging to the monastery of San Martino.785

In this case, overseen by the judge of Sessa, Peter the praepositus and monk of San Martino was helped by a representative from San Vincenzo al Volturno by the name of Magelpotus, who was sent by the abbot of San Vincenzo, Paul II (957-981). Peter the monk demonstrated his familiarity with the mountain in a detailed description of the terrain and its inhabitants so that he could prove that his community had owned the property for decades. In this detailed report, the

783 Chron. Vult., 2:103-105. See the discussion by Federici on p. 103, n. 1 and in Zannini, “San Martino,” 30, n. 67. 784 Chron. Vult., 2:214. 785 Chron. Vult., 2:234-5: “ut iam dicta terra, et monte, legibus predicti monasterii Sancti Martini est pertinentes per possessiones, et per preceptum, quem ostenderat, continente inter cetera: quomodo vir gloriosus domus Gisolfus, summus dux gentis Langobardorum, per rogum Godefrit marepahis, et Aicha baioario, et gasindio suo firmaverat in monasterio Sancti Martini, situs in monte Marsico, ubi Deo auxiliante, Albinus abbas regimen tenebatur, hoc est ipsum montem Marsicum, qualiter a domino bone memorie Romoaldo genitori suo in ipsum sanctum Dei locum concessum fuerat, in ipsa racione, sicut in ipsum preceptum sigillatum continere videtur.” 233

monastery of Santa Cruce and San Martino are listed as belonging to San Vincenzo as well as additional unspecified land on the mountain (“terra subscripti monasterii Sancti Vicencii”).786 Further, the fact that the abbot of San Vincenzo guided the arbitrations with these local lords was evidence that San Martino was a subordinate to the monastery of San Vincenzo by the late tenth century and that the monastery had a vested interest in preserving San Martino’s possessions on and around Monte Massico.787

As mentioned, the period between the tenth and the twelfth centuries was a time of rebuilding for San Vincenzo, as the monks attempted to recover land lost after the Saracen invasions and their subsequent exile in Capua. Donations like the church of Santa Maria and its land in Carinola, the confirmation of the fertile land on Monte Massico as well as its institutions, including the cell of Santa Cruce, and other such confirmations throughout this period would have been important avenues for San Vincenzo to recuperate some of the losses wrought by the 881 attack and the subsequent decline of landed wealth.

Mentions of San Vincenzo’s authority over San Martino continue in the Chronicon through the eleventh and early twelfth century. Abbot Hilarius of San Vincenzo received a confirmation from the emperor Henry II in 1014,788 which was re-confirmed in 1038 by Conrad II.789 Following this, Pope Nicholas II reconfirmed San Vincenzo’s claims to San Martino in 1059.790 Finally, there is an 1104 bull attributed to Pope Paschal II confirming the possessions of San Vincenzo, including that of San Martino. However, Federici argued that the attribution of this document to Paschal II in the Chronicon was erroneous. Instead, according to Federici, the bull was likely copied from a charter originally from the reign of Paschal I (d. 824) and altered to accommodate the needs of San Vincenzo in the twelfth century.791

Considered together, these documents in the Chronicon reveal the importance placed on San Martino and its surroundings on Monte Massico. The interpolations and revisions may constrain

786 Chron. Vult., 2:236. 787 Another tenth-century confirmation of San Martino to San Vincenzo recorded in the Chronicon is in a precept from Otto II made in 983, which Federici categorized as authentic. Chron. Vult., 2:249. 788 Chron. Vult., 3:13. 789 Chron. Vult., 3:25. 790 Chron. Vult., 3:91. 791 Chron. Vult., 1:284, 281-2; Zannini, “San Martino,” 30, n. 68; Acconci and Piccirillo,”L’oratorio rupestre,” 13. 234

our knowledge of the eighth, ninth, and tenth century but they reveal a great deal about the goals of the monks of San Vincenzo during the early twelfth century. One of these goals was to claim its daughter house historically. Another, as we will see, was to preserve the connection between the patron saint of San Martino and San Vincenzo. In general, the revision and preservation of the past at work in the Chronicon ought to be considered not for what these actions say about “what happened” but for how they conceptualize “what should have happened,” and, perhaps more importantly, “what should continue to happen.”792

San Martino between Volturno, Carinola, and Montecassino

By the late eleventh century, the monastery of San Martino and its cave oratory became also the object of the aspirations of the ecclesiastical administration of Carinola. The diocese of Carinola, newly founded in the late eleventh century, lay at the base of Monte Massico, much closer geographically than San Vincenzo (Map 6). The bishop of Carinola between the late eleventh and first years of the twelfth century, a man named Bernard, was probably a high ranking member of the Norman elite and was himself eventually sainted. It was under Bernard’s encouragement that the diocese of Carinola appropriated the cult of St Martin. In a series of texts composed probably during the early twelfth century, Bernard of Carinola is said to have successfully translated the relics of St Martin from his cave oratory to the newly constructed cathedral of Carinola. In doing so, Bernard not only physically but also symbolically took away from San Vincenzo the guardianship over the cult of St Martin. In doing so, Bernard also challenged the abbey’s patrimony over the land and territory belonging to San Martino. This move prompted the attention given to St Martin’s relics in the Chronicon Vulturnense. Through the copying, editing, and perhaps even writing of sources in the Chronicon in the twelfth century, John the Compiler attempted to rebuke the claims made by Bernard and his followers.

792 Bouchard, Rewriting, 65 and ch. 5 in general. 235

Map 6 Detail of Monte Massico and Carinola.

It was probably, however, already too late by the time the Chronicon was compiled. By the mid eleventh century, the period in which Lombard authority had retracted, confirmations of San Vincenzo’s authority over San Martino subsided. Like much of Volturno’s other possessions, the monastery of San Martino appears to have been lost to San Vincenzo sometime after the mid eleventh century and may even have been abandoned by its monks. Likewise, authority over the mountaintop oratory and the cult of St Martin soon passed into new hands. In the following section, we will discuss in sequence the series of sources, including those in the Chronicon Vulturnense, that relate the discovery, attempted translations, enshrinement, and loss of St Martin’s relics. We will see through this body of texts that quasi-inventiones were edited or composed in order to lay claim to physical territories as well as to a spiritual landscape.

Three competing traditions will occupy our attention. The first, composed probably in the early twelfth century, records the translation of the relics of St Martin from Monte Massico to the

236

diocese of Carinola by Bernard, the bishop of Carinola. The second is found in the Chronicon Vulturnense. Finally, soon after John of San Vincenzo compiled the Chronicon Vulturnense, Peter the Deacon of Montecassino composed his own versions of the events. In two separate sources, Peter the Deacon challenged San Vincenzo’s guardianship over the cult of St Martin and asserted Montecassino’s own rights over his relics

7.1 Tradition #1: The Discovery and Translation of St Martin’s Relics by Bishop Bernard of Carinola

In order to understand the Chronicon’s response to competing claims of guardianship over St Martin’s relics, it is necessary first to describe those claims. The first of these allegedly occurred sometime between the late 1080s and the early twelfth century in the context of the takeover of Carinola by the Normans of Capua. The Norman Bernard of Carinola was appointed as bishop to the newly elevated diocese of Carinola around 1088, where he reigned until his death sometime before 1109.793

The territory of Carinola is located in the , about sixteen miles from Capua and almost directly at the base of Monte Massico (Map 6). From the Roman age, Carinola was attested as part of the territory known as ager Falernum.794 Ager Falernum underwent a period of decline between the fifth and sixth centuries due to war and plague but was resettled by the Lombards in the seventh century. By the ninth century, Carinola was claimed as a Lombard gastald and, in 978, it was a Lombard comitatus.795 The earliest evidence of Carinola operating as a diocese comes from the late eleventh century. Although it cannot be said with certainty that it had not already been a diocese, it is only in the late eleventh century that Carinola was elevated to an episcopal seat.796 Carinola numbers among the dioceses that grew as a part of the ecclesiastical reorganization carried out by the Norman lords of Capua.

793 Kamp, “Bishops of Southern Italy,” in The Society of Norman Italy, 196; Ughelli, Italia Sacra, 6:466; D. Glass, Romanesque sculpture in Campania: Patrons, Programs, and Style (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1991), 40-3; Loud, Latin Church, 129. We know that Bernard was no longer in office in 1109 based on an 1109 donation from the princes of Capua to the bishop John of Carinola. See J. Mazzoleni, Le pergamene di Capua (Naples: L'Arte tip., 1957-60), 1:29: “. . . ex alio latere est finis terra ecclesie Calinensis episcopii Sancti Iohannis. . .” 794 Galdi, Santi, 153; Guadagno, “L’ager falernus in età romana,” in Storia economia ed architettura nell’ager Falernus, Atti delle giornate di studio 1986, ed. G. Guadagno (Marina di Minturno: Caramanica, 1986), 17-54. 795 Erchempert, Historia Langobardorum Beneventanorum, MGH SRLI, 250; Galdi, Santi, 154. 796 Galdi, Santi, 155. 237

Like the close-by diocese of Aversa, located south of Carinola in Caserta, Carinola was one of the few places where the bishop was either clearly of Norman origin, associated with the Norman princes, appointed by the Norman leaders, or a combination of these attributes.797 The appointment of Normanno-French bishops in territories like Carinola and Aversa was a product of the maintained ties with Normandy in the early years of the Norman conquests of southern Italy. It was also a way to staff newly-founded dioceses with personnel equipped to carry out the goals of the Gregorian reform and thus to further strengthen the sometimes tenuous relationship between the papacy and the Norman authorities.798 Carinola was a formerly Lombard-controlled, urban environment and was thus well suited as an outpost for Norman ecclesiastical authority along the Campanian coastline.

Bernard of Carinola is documented twice in the early twelfth century. In 1101, he was present in Benevento for a trial between the bishop of Aversa and the abbot of the monastery of San Lorenzo in Aversa in the presence of Pope Paschal II. Also present at this meeting were the bishops of Caiazzo, Aquino, Sant'Agata dei Goti, and the archbishop of Capua.799 Second, in an 1104 confirmation to the monastery of Sant’Angelo in Formis, Prince Richard II of Capua granted a piece of land in Capua, which was bordered by the “finis terra aecclesiae Sancti Vicentii quae est Capuanum monasterium.” In the confirmation, Richard warned that anyone who attempted to violate the terms of his charter would face anathema, carried out by “the lord

Bernard, bishop of Carinola.”800 This mention of Bernard comes without further explanation but at the very least suggests a bond between Bernard and Richard II. It further highlights the pressure faced by San Vincenzo with the growing power of the Capuan Normans and their personnel as they increasingly impacted the landed wealth of San Vincenzo. The donation to

797 Loud, Latin Church, 127-9. 798 Kamp, “Bishops of Southern Italy,” 194. 799 Kehr, Italia pontificia, 8:283; Galdi, Santi, 155-6. 800 Galdi, Santi, 156; M. Inguanez, ed., Regesto di S. Angelo in Formis (Montecassino: Badia di Montecassino, 1925), 103-4: “Quoniam ob salutem et remedium animarum principum Richardi scilicet avi ac Iordanis patris nostri, ac ob statum nostri principatus, per hoc vidilicet principale scriptum in perpetuum concedimus ac confirmamus in monasterio Sancti Angeli qui dicitur in Formis, . . .integram unam petiam de terra nostra, quae est in pede de monte nostro qui dicitur Sancti Georgi, in qua est oliveto et hos habet fines: ab uno latere est finis terra aecclesia Sancti Vicentii, quae est Capuanum monasterium; . . . Quid si quis huius nostre concessionis et confirmationis paginam, contemptor aut violator in aliquo esse presumpserit, in ipsa anathema permaneat nisi resipuerit, quam dominus Bernardus Calinensis episcopus me deprecante in ipsa hora concessionis ante altare fecerat, insuper et centum libras auri persolvere cogatur: medietatem in iam dicto monasterio Sancti Angeli, et medietatem nostro sacro palatio.” 238

Sant’Angelo in Formis may have posed a threat to San Vincenzo since the land granted to Sant’Angelo butted up against and may have included some portion of the Terra Sancti Vicencii.

In addition to these brief accounts, hagiographical sources also exist that attest to Bernard’s role as a bishop as well as his interest in the cult of St Martin during the late eleventh and early twelfth century. The easiest to date is the Vita, translatio et miracula S. Martini abbatis (BHL 5604), attributed to Peter the Deacon. A section of this Vita is devoted to the life and deeds of Bernard of Carinola, including his translation of the relics of St Martin from Monte Massico to the episcopal church in Carinola. Peter probably composed this work sometime in or after the 1130s, after he began his career as the historian for Montecassino. Second, there is the Vita et miracula S. Bernardi (BHL 1205) the oldest version of which was edited in the seventeenth century by Michele Monaco. This edition was allegedly based on a now-lost liturgical Office of

St Bernard from Carinola from the thirteenth century.801 This account details the career of Bernard as bishop and his bond with the Normans of Capua. Finally, there is the Historia translationis reliquiarum S. Martini ex Montemassico Carinulam (BHL 5602), held in the fifteenth-century codex 329 of the monastery of the canons regular of St Augustine in Bodeken, near present-day Paderborn.802 This recension, although shorter in length than Peter the Deacon’s, reports essentially the same story of Bernard’s career as bishop and his relationship with the Norman elite of Capua. As an appendix to the Vita, the Bodeken codex also includes the account of Bernard’s translation of St Martin’s relics. Unlike Peter’s account, however, a prologue of BHL 5602 states that the Translatio was composed by a church official from

Carinola according to the wishes of Bernard himself.803 If this is true, the Translatio would have been originally composed between the 1090s and 1109, when Bernard was bishop.

801 M. Monaco, ed., Sanctuarium Capuanum: opus in quo sacrae res Capuae (Naples: 1630), 23-5; also edited in Ughelli, Italia sacra, 6:462-6. 802 Historia translationis reliquiarum S. Martini ex Montemassico Carinulam (BHL 5602) (Hereafter Historia translationis), AASS October 10, 833-5. On the history of the codex, see Moretus, “De magno legendario Bodecensi,” Analecta Bollandiana 27 (1908): 257-351. 803 Historia translationis, 833: “Et cui tantus vir tantæ dignitatis adhibet testimonium, indignum valde est nos et ejus corporis translationem et miracula, quæ translatus edidit, oblivioni aut incuriæ mancipare et non memoriae fidelium commendata dimittere. Ad hujus igitur operis audaciam me non innata mentis meæ sapientia, non artificialis scientia, non facundae loquacitatis opulentia, sed ipsius sancti, de quo loqui cupio, cooperatoris et adjutoris nostri spes est non incerta, et venerandi patris Bernardi, Calinensis episcopi, a quo se transferri permisit, petitio benigna succendit.” 239

The questions surrounding the dating of these sources have been covered in detail by Giuseppe Guadagno and Amalia Galdi and so will only be summarized below. The central challenge for our purpose is to understand if a hagiographical tradition surrounding St Bernard’s translation of Martin’s relics originated prior to the compilation of the Chronicon Vulturnense (1119-1124). Guadagno’s arguments for dating the sources on St Bernard of Carinola follow roughly the manuscript chronology. Guadagno argues that Peter the Deacon’s recension of the Vita, translatio et miracula S. Martini abbatis (BHL 5604) was the earliest source, composed sometime between the 1130s and the mid-twelfth century, after the compilation of the Chronicon Vulturnense. It follows, according to Guadagno, that all later sources about Bernard and the translation of Martin’s relics (BHL 1205, 5602) were then based on Peter’s twelfth-century version.804 Guadagno’s theory therefore situates the development of St Bernard’s cult more than a decade after Bernard’s death and contextualizes his cult promotion within Montecassino and the archdiocese of Capua rather than in Carinola.

Guadagno has raised uncertainties surrounding the development of St Bernard of Carinola’s cult, given the late manuscript tradition of the sources, but this does not mean that the translation itself did not take place at Bernard’s initiative. The fact that the Chronicon Vulturnense clearly responded to competition over the cult of St Martin, as we will shortly see, strongly suggests that such a threat had indeed occurred before its compilation. It is also very likely that the Norman authorities of Capua, including ecclesiastical leaders like Bernard, and their ecclesiastical allies, like Montecassino, were the primary targets for the Chronicon’s rebuttal since they had usurped the territory of Carinola and Monte Massico from the abbey by the late eleventh century. While we cannot be certain of the existence of a written narrative prior to the compilation of the Chronicon, it is very plausible that some hagiographical tradition, whether oral or written, existed by the early twelfth century that recounted Bernard of Carinola’s translation of St Martin’s relics from Monte Massico to Carinola. This tradition preceded the compilation of the Chronicon Vulturnense, which included clear rebuttals to Bernard of Carinola and the Norman’s threat to San Vincenzo’s historic authority over the cult of St Martin.

804 Guadagno, “Bernardo, Carinola, e Foro Claudio,” 66-98. 240

Galdi, contrary to Guadagno, places the original composition of both the Vita S. Bernardi and the Translatio S. Martini at an earlier date, before the compilation of the Chronicon Vulturnense. In this scenario, Peter the Deacon would have based his twelfth-century version on earlier sources, amending them in order to suit the needs of Montecassino. Galdi acknowledges the late manuscript history of the hagiographical tradition surrounding St Bernard’s vita and the translation of Martin’s relics but argues ultimately that the early twelfth-century Carinola is a more compelling and logical context for such sources to have been composed. The period between the 1090s and 1118 witnessed not only the elevation of the territory of Carinola to a diocese in the Norman principality of Capua but also the building of the episcopal church in

Carinola as well as its consecration.805 Relic discoveries and translations frequently accompanied the building and consecration of new churches in the Norman period.806 The rituals surrounding a relic discovery and translation served to connect a new ecclesiastical establishment with an ancient and sacred past. Similarly, the composition of inventiones, served to create a new past by preserving the memory of these events on parchment and in the celebration of the liturgy, when these sources were read or sung aloud.

Therefore, if we are to follow Galdi’s argument, which I believe is the more plausible of the two, the sequence of sources would be as follows. First, a tradition surrounding the life of St Bernard and the translation of St Martin’s relics from Monte Massico to Carinola sometime after Bernard’s death in the early twelfth century emerged as a way to commemorate the foundation of the new diocese, under Norman authority. The translation itself, of course, took place at an earlier date while Bernard was still alive, probably sometime in the late eleventh century. Later sources, like the Vita S. Bernardi (BHL 1205) and the Historia translationis reliquiarum (BHL 5602) were eventually based on this tradition stemming from Carinola. In rebuttal to Bernard’s promotion of St Martin’s cult and the threats it posed to San Vincenzo’s authority in the region surrounding Carinola, John of San Vincenzo included accounts of the abbey’s historic patrimony

805 Galdi, Santi, 162. Although the Translatio mentions 1090s as the date in which Bernard began construction on the cathedral, one epitaph in the church of Carinola states that the construction was completed in 1100 followed by its consecration by Pope Paschal II while another mentions the date of completion as 1110 and the consecration in 1118 by Gelasius II. Both epigraphs date to the eighteenth century. Galdi attributes the chronological confusion of the 1094 date mentioned in the Translatio as “frutto di una probabile confusione tra le date relative all’inizio e alle fine dei lavori di edificazione della cattedrale e le successive consacrazione pontificie.” Galdi, Santi, 167. For an image of the epigraphs, see Guadagno, “Bernardo, Carinola, e Foro Claudio,” 81. 806 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 52-64. 241

over San Martino and the relics of St Martin in the Chronicon Vulturnense, compiled between 1119 and 1124. Finally, soon after, Peter the Deacon wrote the Vita, translatio, et miracula S. Martini abbatis (BHL 5604). In it, he not only affirmed the translation of St Martin to Carinola by Bernard but also claimed a portion of Martin’s relics for Montecassino in an effort to strengthen the bonds between the Norman elite of Capua and Montecassino.

We will discuss Peter the Deacon’s account further below. For now, a summary of Bernard’s vita and the translatio of St Martin according to the Bodeken codex is as follows. Bernard was a member of the court of the Norman Prince Ricard II of Capua (1090-1106). At first, he reigned as bishop over a town called Forum claudii, about two miles from Carinola according to his

Vita.807 However, since much of his faithful lived far away, Bernard asked the permission of Prince Richard II (1090-1106) and Archbishop John of Aversa to relocate his episcopal seat to

Carinola.808 There, he constructed a new cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary and to , translated the relics of St Martin from Monte Massico to Carinola, and led his followers in Carolina until his death.

According to the translatio of St Martin’s relics, appended to Bernard’s vita, Bernard himself commissioned a member of the Carinola church to compose the Translatio. The author reported that, in 1094, Bernard decided to translate the relics of St Martin from Monte Massico to Carinola. From Bernard’s perspective, the relics of St Martin had not been properly taken care of on account of the “increasing wickedness of those placed as guardians of the sacred remains,” here likely referring to the monks of San Martino or even the abbey San Vincenzo al Volturno, although the Translatio does not mention either by name.809 Bernard knew that the relics would be visited frequently in Carinola and would be venerated by the people and clergy there in a more fitting manner.810 In addition to this, Bernard himself was “enkindled with the desire to discover (invenire) the relics,” as if he were miraculously guided to the saint.811 After receiving

807 According to Galdi and Guadagno, the diocese of Forum claudium was likely a fabrication used to associate the new diocese of Carinola with a more ancient episcopal territory. Besides for the Vita of Bernard and the Translatio S. Martini, there is no other evidence for the existence of Forum claudium. See Galdi, Santi, 168-71. 808 Historia translationis, 834. 809 Historia translationis, 834: “decrevit . . . ut Sancti Martini corpus, cui crescente præpositorum iniquitate non more solito debitum solvebatur obsequium, ad ecclesiam Sanctae Mariæ et Sancti Joannis, cui praeerat, transferret.” 810 Historia translationis, 834. 811 Historia translationis, 834: “Primus itaque Bernardus episcopus, thesauri tam nobilis inveniendi amore succensus…” 242

the permission of Archbishop John of Aversa, Bishop Bernard asked the advice of Prince Richard I’s son, John (d. 1094), who governed over Carinola at that time. John agreed to the translation and, on the appointed day, Bernard and the bishops of Calvio and Teano ascended the mountain. Bishop Bernard himself struck the tomb, which opened to reveal the heavenly odor of Martin’s relics. All present were filled with love of the saint and knew that Bernard had accomplished the discovery (revelatio) with divine assistance.812 Bernard brought the relics to Carinola and was met by his faithful as well as Prince John and his wife, who rejoiced with the crowd. Martin’s relics were interred in the bishop’s church, where they performed many miracles.813 This account is not an inventio per se, since Bernard knew where Martin’s relics were located. It does, however, prescribe to certain key characteristics of the genre, suggesting that its author probably intended for the legend to act more or less like an inventio narrative. For example, there is a clear repetition of discovery through the use of “invenire” and “revelatio;” the author remarked that St Bernard specifically desired to discover the relics. After the tomb was opened and the relics brought to Carinola, the account states that both the discovery (“revelatio”) and translation (translatio) were successful. These elements, in conjunction with the tropes commonly found in inventiones, like the sweet perfume of Martin’s relics, reiterate the narrative’s appropriation of inventiones and convey the authority of this genre.

The content of this source also follows a pattern observable in other sources produced in Norman Italy. Typically, in the Norman period, these discoveries and translations took place under the coordination of ecclesiastical leaders (in this case, Bernard) while the temporal Norman lords

(here, John) were secondary to their prelates in the process of cult formation.814 By contrast, when the Lombard lords appeared in hagiographical accounts (especially those accounts originating from Benevento), they were often central to the relic discovery and translation. We have observed this in earlier chapters and will observe again with the relics of St Martin and Prince Arichis II. The situation was, however, slightly different in the region of Capua under Norman rule: the Norman princes of Capua were among the few Norman figures known to have been directly involved in coordinating relic discoveries and translations as a mechanism to

812 Historia translationis, 834. 813 Historia translationis, 834. 814 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 59. For a partial list of inventiones composed in the Norman period in Apulia, see Head’s article, “Discontinuity and Discovery.” 243

promote their legitimacy. For example, Robert of Caiazzo (d. 1116), the nephew of Prince Richard I of Capua (1058-1078), encouraged the translations of the relics of St Mennas, another sixth-century hermit. The first translation of Mennas’ relics occurred, interestingly enough, in 1094, the same date as Martin’s translation. During this event, Mennas’ relics were moved from

Monte Taburno to the Capuan archdiocese.815

Like the translation of Mennas’ relics, Bernard’s promotion of St Martin and his own posthumous cult in Carinola likely developed as the new diocese of Carinola attempted to establish for itself a prestigious past, replete not only with a local hermit saint but also its own sainted bishop.816 Here, the bishop stood as central to the ecclesiastical administration while the presence of the temporal authorities, the Normans of Capua, aided in authenticating his newly established role in a diocese, made up of a majority of former Lombard subjects. In these cases, sanctity served as an important bridge between new authorities and their communities.817 For newly appointed bishops, like Bernard, the cults of ancient saints served as a locus of identity, around which a native community could convene. For their Norman patrons, local saints helped to establish authority in a newly conquered territory. The Normans facilitated the rise of a local bishop (Bernard) and a local saint (Martin), who was linked with the patron of Montecassino but was also antique enough that he bypassed the period of Lombard rule in southern Italy.

In the case of Carinola, the shrine of St Martin on Monte Massico was an ideal subject of veneration, even (or maybe especially) if it meant encroaching upon the authority of San Vincenzo in that region. In fact, St Martin’s relics were appealing for many of the same reasons that attracted the monks of San Vincenzo to his oratory. Martin was an ancient saint associated with a monastery that may have historically held a good amount of territory in the region surrounding Carinola. Indeed, the Norman appropriation of Martin’s cult directly challenged San Vincenzo’s patrimony over the cult as well as its tenuous hold on landed wealth in the region. This, ultimately, led to the incorporation of the historical discovery and translation of St Martin’s

815 Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 60; H. Hoffman, “Die Translationes et Miracula Sancti Mennatis des Leo Marsicanus,” Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 60 (2004): 441-81. 816 Galdi, Santi, 161, 172: “la Vita s. Bernardi, dunque, pur imprecisa nelle coordinate cronologiche e genealogiche della famiglia capuana e relativamente recente nelle redazione pervenutaci, costruisce uno sfondo all’elezione del santo coerente con la realtà dei rapporti tra l’episcopato capuano e i Normanni nella secondo metà dell’XI secolo.” 817 See Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery”; Oldfield, Sanctity and Pilgrimage, 64-77. 244

relics by Prince Arichis II within the Chronicon. Here, John does not look to the contemporary lords of the Terra sancti Vincentii, the Normans. Instead, the Chronicon makes a conscious turn to the former patrons of the monastery, the Lombard princes, in order to claim its authority over the shrine of St Martin. The remembered bonds between the Lombards and San Vincenzo, however, did not bring a triumphant revival for San Vincenzo. While we often are left with the voices of the “winning side,” the following investigation gives us the opportunity to listen to the voice of a community that used inventiones in vain.

7.2 Tradition #2: St Martin’s Relics and Prince Arichis II in the Chronicon

Bernard of Carinola and the Normans of Capua may have dealt a serious blow to the landed wealth of San Vincenzo in Carinola in addition to the appropriation of the cult of St Martin. In fact, San Vincenzo seems to have exercised authority over a portion of Carinola itself. Copied in the Chronicon are confirmations of property in Carinola (Calinolu, Calinole, Calinola) dating from as early as the tenth century.818 One of these is a lengthy donation from three Lombard lords from Capua, Atto, Grimoaldo, and Adelperti. In 963, these lords granted the church of Sancta Maria Magiperti to Dacupertus, then a monk and custos of San Martino. The donation includes not only the church of Sancta Maria, which lay within the limits of Carinola, but also two pieces of land. San Martino was granted this territory and its use in perpetuity but the document is careful to relate that San Martino was subject to the monastery of St Vincent.819 The church of Sancta Maria is mentioned again in a document from 980, entitled De Calinole in the Chronicon. In addition to the church dedicated to Mary, according to the Chronicon, San

Vincenzo also held a cell in Carinola dedicated to Saint Ilarius.820 The same document that mentions the church of St Mary also includes a description of the territory surrounding the

818 For instance, Chron Vult., 2:109 notes that in 957, San Vincenzo held “diversas quoque curtes et hereditates monasterii huius cum servis et ancillis in Caolinolu.”; 2:178: in the late tenth century “abbas Paulus plures hereditates. . .aquisivit atque recollegit. . .in Calinole. . .” 819 Chron. Vult., 2:214-15. 820 There is an earlier mention in the Chronicon of San Vincenzo’s possession of Saint Ilarius in Carinola (2:109). However, according to Federici, there are no other documents that attest to San Vincenczo’s possession of the church of St Ilarius in the time of Abbot Leo (944-957). The later document in the Chronicon attesting to the possession of Saint Ilarius, which dates to the abbacy of Paul (957-981), is, however, considered historically reliable. See Federici’s comments in Chron. Vult., 2:109, n. 1. 245

church of Saint Ilarius in “the comitatus of Carinola, a place called Sanctum Vincencium.”821 The documents in the Chronicon that attest to San Vincenzo’s property in Carinola go through the early eleventh century.822

It is likely that the abbey’s property in Carinola was lost as the Normans consolidated power in Capua. The losses of property in Carinola of course numbered among the much wider detriment experienced by the abbey after the fall of the Lombard principality and the growth of Norman authority in Capua, explained above. For one, Carinola represented important access to the sea because of its location along the coastline. However, with the simultaneous threat to the cult of St Martin as a result of the Norman takeover of Carinola, it was not only San Vincenzo’s wealth that was under attack. If Bernard did indeed succeed in translating Martin’s relics from Monte Massico to Carinola, the Norman presence represented also a loss to the abbey’s prestigious past and its control over land as well as a sacred site that served a local populace.

There are two mentions of St Martin’s relics in the Chronicon Vulturnense. Both instances use different mechanisms to lay claim to the cult of St Martin after Bernard of Carinola translated his relics to the new episcopal church. According to the Chronicon, Abbot Hilarius of San Vincenzo (1011-1045) reportedly hid the relics of St Martin after “a certain group of people attempted to carry his relics off the mountain.” John followed this by saying how Abbot Hilarius hid Martin’s relics so well in fact that “no one knows even today where they are hidden.”823 This short account retroactively refuted the claims of the diocese of Carinola over the relics of St Martin, using oblivion and loss as a tactic to refute claims to St Martin’s cult on Monte Massico.

In addition to this, the Chronicon also articulates its patrimony over San Martino by looking to its relationship with the Lombards. Here, rather than oblivion, John the chronicler used discovery and rewrote the abbey’s claims to Martin’s relics within the community’s early history, intertwining its relationship with St Martin, a saintly patron, with its bond with one of its most important temporal patrons, Arichis II. In the chapter on Abbot Epiphanius, John interrupts his

821 Chron. Vult., 2:200-1. 822 Chron. Vult., 2:298. 823 Chron. Vult., 3:78: “Huius temporibus cum quaedam gens corpus confessoris Christi Martini ex Marsico monte velle auferre, illuc cum fratribus perrexit, et eum de sepulchro aufferens tam secrete recondidit, ut usque hodie ubi sit reposium ab omnibus ignoretur.” Abbot Hilarius is known primarily for executing the painted decoration and the restoration of the San Vincenzo Maggiore, the abbey-church of San Vincenzo in the mid eleventh century. 246

narrative with a legend about St Martin. He wrote that “because an ancient writing related that this venerable father (Epiphianus) was from the monastery of Monte Massico, it is only right to return now to the above-mentioned topic, to faithfully describe those things that have been discovered about this very monastery and about the things that happened regarding the relics of the confessor of Christ, Martin.”824 Using a description we have seen before, John wrote that “the most pious prince of the Lombards, Arichis II, honorably gathered the relics of many saints from diverse places and interred them within Benevento.” The late eighth-century Prince Arichis learned that the monastery of San Martino, “which had once flourished with a large gathering of pious monks,” now was nearly deserted by men.825 On account of his own piety and for the defense of the city, Arichis decided to seek out and remove the body of St Martin from the mountain and place it within the walls of Benevento along with the bodies of the other saints who had been buried there.826 Arichis related his plan to his citizens and to his bishop, all of whom were pleased. Together, the citizens, the bishop, and Prince Arichis set out for the tomb of the saint. They ascended the mountain on bare feet, singing psalms. Once they arrived at the shrine, Arichis sang out, praising Martin for his warrior-like characteristics: “Oh great confessor, abbot and father of monks, exalted in merit, revered for your many rewards, we seek you, may you grant us your heavenly remains. Protector of people, arm us with your prayer. Grant us your aid to conquer hostile enemies.”827 Suddenly, a voice replied to the prince’s hymn: “I am not able to leave in any way, remaining in this place, guarding it for a long time.”828 All were struck with terror at this voice and fell to the ground. Suddenly, the earth shook so much that “from the winds of this abyss (the cave?), not only the entire mountain shook but also the walls of the nearby cities.”829 Because of this, “everyone knew that divine will commanded that this

824 Chron. Vult., 1:302: “Sed quia hunc venerabilem patrem Epyphanium ex Marsici montis monasterio fuisse vetus scriptura tradidit, oportet aliquantulum hinc ad superiora recurrere, et que de eodem monasterio scripta repperi vel de confessoris Christi Martini corpore acta sunt, fideliter enarrare.” 825 Chron. Vult., 1:303: “. . .magno religiosorum contubernio floruerat monachorum, iam tunc ab hominibus pene destitutum esse didicisset.” 826 Chron. Vult., 1:303: “consilium incidit ei, causa pietatis ac munimine civitatis. Confessoris corpus inde auferre, atque infra sue urbis moenia cum aliorum corporibus sanctorum locandum deferre.” 827 Chron. Vult., 1:303: Maxime confessor, monachorum, pastor et abbas,/insignis, meritis, magnis, venerande, tropheis,/ Te petemusque tuos, tu confer caelitus artus./ Tu populos salvans, nobis, prece suggere arma./ Auxilium prebene, hostilia vincere castra.” 828 Chron. Vult., 1:303: “Nam ego iam prosus nullatenus egredi possum,/ Hoc loco manens per longa tempora parens.” 829 Chron. Vult., 1:303: “Huius ergo sonitu vocis omnes, timore concussi, partier corruerunt ad terram, tuncque terremotus factus est magnus, ut ab ipsis abyssi flatibus non solum tocius montis, sed et cunta vincinarum urbium moenia concuterentur.” 247

mountain guard the remains of the saint and they did not dare to act contrary to the divine command.”

Rather than fleeing, Arichis and his followers remained on the mountain for a little while, offering prayers to the saint. Then, the Prince granted the monastery of San Martino a praeceptum firmitatis for all its possessions and all it seemed to possess. He also added to the list of the monastery’s wealth, “adding many other places which lay between the river called Carnellus [], where the Saone river [Savone] runs, which proceeds from the Saxo river, including the male and female serfs, and whatever seemed to lay in its boundaries with its lands, so that the monastery [San Martino] may hold it and possess it for all time.”830 However, after a few years, Arichis’ successors, named here only as “the Lombard princes,” noticed that the monastery of San Martino was declining with old age. So, on account of piety and care “for its restoration,” the Lombard princes (Longobardorum principes) and the bishops of the churches of God (ecclesiarum Dei venerandi pontifices) granted the monastery of San Martino and all its possessions to the monastery of Blessed Vincent.831

The passage in the Chronicon then moves on to the remainder of abbot Epiphanius’ chapter, saying no more about St Martin here. The land granted to San Martino (and therefore to San Vincenzo covered roughly the territory from the Garigliano river south to the territory of Mondragone. This territory, although not explicitly, seems to have covered the entirety of Monte Massico as well as the city of Carinola. We have already seen how Bernard of Carinola, a bishop named by a Norman prince, had moved his cathedral to Carinola, a sign that this territory had passed or was passing under Norman rule. By the early twelfth century, at least part of the land around the river Savone had been claimed by the Normans. In an 1109 document of Richard, the Norman count of Carinola, land around the Savone river was included as a part of the comitatus

830 Chron. Vult., 1:304: “princeps vero, iisdem cum multis aliis donariis, contulit ad eundem locum preceptum firmitatis ex omnibus, que possederat, vel possidere videbatur, adiciens et alia plura, que infra fluvium, qui dicitur Carnellus, et sicut decurrit rivus Saonis, qui de Saxo procedit, designata sunt; servos quoque et ancillas, quotquot in his manere videbantur, cum suis cespitis, ut habeat et possideat, perpetuis tradidit temporibus.” 831 Chron. Vult. 1:304: “etenim aliquantis decurrentibus annis, cum locum ipsum vetustate deficere cernerent, causa pie sollicitudinis ac restauracionis et aliarum commutacionis, Longobardorum principes et ecclesiarum Dei venerandi pontifices hoc idem monasterium cum omnibus suis pertinenciis Beati Vicencii monasterio ex integro subdiderunt.” 248

of Carinola, which was donated to Anna, Richard’s daughter.832 Was John intentionally vague on the territories included in Arichis II’s donation when he added this legend to the Chronicon so as to maintain a claim on a territory that had been lost to the Norman counts? We cannot be sure but the story certainly gives the impression that San Vincenzo’s historic patrimony over the territory between the Garigliano river to the Savone river had been vast. It is also important to recall here that San Martino may not have been officially a dependency of San Vincenzo until sometime in the ninth or tenth century, according to the charters in the Chronicon that are considered reliable. Thus, Arichis II’s donation of this land to St Vincent was either a sign of an early bond between San Vincenzo and San Martino or else an apocryphal story, created in the early twelfth century by John the Chronicler in order to assert historical authority over the mountaintop monastery and shrine.

It is likewise unclear what had become of the monastery of San Martino by the time the Chronicon was compiled. According to the Chronicon’s anecdote of Abbot Hilarius hiding St Martin’s relics in the first half of the eleventh century, the mountain was still inhabited by monks in the mid eleventh century. If we are to believe the sources on St Bernard, however, the monastery was in decline by the late eleventh century, possibly even abandoned. Whatever the case, by the time the Chronicon was composed, the monastery of San Martino, and more probably the cave oratory of St Martin, remained important parts of San Vincenzo’s identity because of the past these sites represented.

The Chronicon’s story of the “discovery” and non-translation of St Martin’s relics follows some of the sources we have seen before, like the Translatio S. Mercurii. For instance, the description of Prince Arichis II is very close to the characterization of the prince in the Translatio S. Mercurii, in which he is known for his piety and relic collecting. In this approach, John made use of a pre-established tradition, perhaps one that that had been revived quite recently by the monastery of Santa Sofia in Benevento, if we are to follow my arguments in chapter three. John used not only the figure of Arichis II as a model of authority but also engaged the Chronicon with a valued and established literary and liturgical genre in the territory of Campania and

832 Mazzoleni, Le pergamene di Capua, 1:26: “. . .tibi domina Anna genetrix mea karissima. . . concedimus ac confirmamus hoc est decem familias hominum habitantium infra fines prescripti nostri comitatus Calinoli. . .insuper et molendinum unum scitum in terra et fluvio Saonis cum omnibus pertinentiis suis loco. . .” 249

formerly Lombard-controlled zones (the inventio narrative). In addition to this, the account of Arichis II’s visit to San Martino’s shrine also has a transformative effect on the cult itself. Whereas San Martino had not been necessarily associated with any military power in the account passed down by Gregory the Great, in the Chronicon, Arichis seems drawn to St Martin for the same reasons he wished to discover the relics of Mercurius, that is, for the saints’ ability to help in military efforts, to protect and defend territory from ongoing threats. Arichis’ prayer to St Martin articulates this through the use of phrases like “Tu populos salvans, nobis prece suggere arma/ Auxilium prebene, hostilia vincere castra.” In this way, the Chronicon imbues St Martin, an otherwise traditional hermit saint, with the protective power of a warrior saint, able to defend his monastery as well as San Vincenzo from the threats of enemies.

The legend of Prince Arichis II and St Martin also provides yet another example of the intersections between hagiography and diplomatic sources in the Chronicon Vulturnense. On the one hand, the account is composed with the standard building blocks of an established hagiographical genre, the inventio and translatio. It is a text that, like other inventiones and translationes, could very well have been sung by a monastic community during the celebration of the office, and may therefore have been extracted from the liturgy of San Vincenzo. On the other hand and at the same time, the account blends seamlessly into a charter, noting the landed wealth of the abbey of San Vincenzo and intended to hold the same legal force as many of the other charters in the Chronicon. There is no boundary between these two documents, the hagiography and the donation. In fact, they are one in the same.

7.3 Tradition #3: Peter the Deacon and the Inventio and Translatio of St Martin to Montecassino

Shortly after John compiled the Chronicon Vulturnense, Peter the Deacon began his career as the historian of Montecassino sometime in 1131 or 1132.833 In addition to his Registrum Petri Diaconi, composed during the course of the 1130s as a continuation of Leo Marsicano’s Chronicon Casinensis, Peter also wrote hagiography as a way to recreate the past of

Montecassino.834 Among the hagiographical works composed by Peter are two sources devoted

833 P. Meyvaert, “The Autographs of Peter the Deacon,” Bulletin of the John Rylands Library 38.1 (1955): 129. 834 Kelly, The Beneventan Chant, 33-4. 250

to St Martin de Monte Massico. The first, with the modern title Un opuscule du Diacre Adelbert sur S. Martin de Montemassico (BHL 5601), is held in the twelfth-century manuscript Rome, Vallicelliana MS XXII, fols. 1-4. E. Caspar attributed this text to Peter the Deacon on the basis of paleography and style, theorizing that he wrote disguised as a deacon of the monastery of San

Martino, whom he named Adelbertus.835

This short source is based directly on the passage in the Chronicon Vulturnense, where Arichis II ascends Monte Massico but cannot remove the relics of St Martin. It also retells the Saracen attack on the Monastery of San Martino and how St Martin saved his monks from danger, an anecdote also reported in the Chronicon Vulturnense. There is, however, a significant difference. Peter rewrote the conclusion of Arichis II’s attempt to translate the relics to Benevento. In Peter’s version, Arichis II ascends the mountain, prays to the tomb of St Martin, and the earthquake warns him away. The story of Prince Arichis ends there, as Peter moves on to discuss the Saracen invasions in Campania.836 There is no mention of the Lombard prince’s donation nor of the monastery and its possessions belonging to San Vincenzo. Here, Peter the Deacon counteracted the claims made by San Vincenzo in the Chronicon Vulturnense to the territory surrounding Carinola. By erasing this small yet crucial donation, Peter left to oblivion the historic authority of San Vincenzo in this region, justifying the claims of the Normans of Capua to the territory once owned by San Martino.

In a second account, the previously mentioned Vita, translatio et miracula S. Martini abbatis (BHL 5604), Peter expanded the story of St Martin reported in the BHL 5601 text and the Chronicon. He included a description of the hermit’s life, as reported by Gregory the Great, the failed translation attempt made by Arichis II, the career of Bernard of Carinola, and finally the successful translation of St Martin’s relics by Bernard and the Norman lord of Carinola, Jordan. This is by far the lengthiest account about St Martin’s cult on Monte Massico. In a sense, Peter’s Vita connects the separate threads of the traditions surrounding St Martin. In another sense, it is

835 E. Caspar, Petrus Diaconus und die Monte Cassineser Fälschungen. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des italienischen Geistesleben in Mittelalter (Berlin: Springer, 1909), 81-93; Galdi, Santi, 248-9. The text is in “Un opuscule du diacre Adelbert sur S. Martin de Montemassico,” ed. Moretus, Analecta Bollandiana 25 (1906): 243-57. 836 “Un opuscule,” 253. The account simply ends with Martin’s words, before proceeding to the events of the ninth century: “‘Audite episcope et princeps dervi Dei, quia non vult sanctus Martinus hunc levari hac deportari vobis illus in civitas vestra, sed velle hic requiescere ubi solitariam vitam duxit, ubi necessitatibus passus est et ubi Deus per eum multa mirabilia fecit.’ Sicut beatissimus narrat Gregorius in libris Dialogorum.” 251

purposefully silent on other threads, specifically those related to San Vincenzo’s authority in the region. Again, there is nothing mentioned about Arichis II’s donation to San Martino or San Vincenzo. In fact, the account emphasizes Arichis II’s failure to translate the relics. Whereas in the Chronicon Vulturnense, Arichis II’s inability to remove the relics from Monte Massico is framed less as a failure of the prince and more as a sign of the bond between San Martino and St Martin, Peter depicts Arichis being almost in a state of shame. After ascending the mountain with his bishop, Arichis begs the saint to come to Benevento. Suddenly the earth shook and the terrified prince and his followers “understood that the saint would in no way assent to their petitions.” Thus, “tearful, they returned to their home.”837

While Peter is once again silent on Arichis II’s donation to San Vincenzo, he included a mention of Abbot Hilarius’s actions in the mid-eleventh century. Recall that in the Chronicon Vulturnense, Abbot Hilarius is reported to have hid the relics of St Martin in safekeeping against a certain gens, who wished to steal the relics from the abbey.838 In Peter’s Vita, the story is altered. According to Peter, Abbot Hilarius learned that a certain monk of the monastery of San Martino had a plan to sell the relics of St Martin for any price he was able to get. When the monk came to the tomb during the night, a terrible earthquake shook the mountain and terrified the monk. At the same time, St Martin himself appeared to Abbot Hilarius and admonished him for his failure to guard the relics: “Why have you appointed such a guard to my body?” The abbot was terrified and rushed to the mountain on horseback to punish the monk who had attempted the furta sacra.839 The monk finally admitted that the earthquake had frightened him out of selling the relics and the story ends there, with no mention of Abbot Hilarius hiding the relics.840 In this version, just as Arichis II was met with an earthquake to signal St Martin’s disapproval, so too was the thief monk of San Martino. In this way, Peter depicted Arichis as similar to a simple

837 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translatio, et miracula s. Martini, 837: “. . .et subito vehementissimi terrae motus accessu, ita ut ons ruere videretur, exterriti, sanctum suis nullo modo petitionibus in hoc acquiescere perceperunt, sicque tristes ad propria sunt reversi.” 838 Chron. Vult., 3:178. 839 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translatio, et miracula s. Martini, 838: “Alio tempore Hilarius, abbas sancti Vincentii, siti juxta ortum Vulturno fluminis, beati Martini monacum quemdam proposuerat, qui furtim venerabile corpus abducere et aliquid pretii se posse acquirere cogitavit. Cum noctu ad tumulum tangendum temerarius accessisset, subito tantus factus est terrae motus, ut montis ruina instare videretur. Sanctus autem Martinus abbati praefato, qui apud monasterium sancti Vincentii Capuae dormiebat, in somnis apparuit dicens: ‘quid talem corpori meo custodem adhibuisti?’” 840 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translationis, et miracula s. Martini, 838. 252

thief and San Vincenzo as an unworthy guardian over the remains of the saint. Peter even suggests that the monastery of San Martino was poor since a monk was willing to accept any price he could get for the relics.841

By rewriting the events of the eleventh century in this way, Peter positions the Normans of Carinola and Capua in direct contrast to the Lombard Arichis II and San Vincenzo. The latter are decidedly presented as the former custodians of the cult. Immediately after the anecdote about Abbot Hilarius, Peter turned to the “venerable Bishop Bernard of Carinola.” Here, again, the story is the same as that reported in the Bodeken codex so it is not necessary to repeat it in its entirety here. Of particular note, however, is Peter’s treatment of the Norman officials because it sheds light on the messages he wished to convey through the (re)writing of this source. In the Vita, Bernard acquires the blessing of both the archbishop of Aversa and the son of prince

Richard, John, whom Peter described as “a man of great wisdom among his contemporaries.”842 In the text, John invites his bishops to join in the ascent up Monte Massico and promised Bernard that he would give him whatever advice he could on the matter.843

While on the mountain, Bernard and the others prayed as the tomb was opened: “Bishop Bernard, incensed by the love of discovering such a worthy treasure, with prayers completed, struck a blow to the marble, in which the holy body lay. The discovery of the holy body, which had been difficult for many before, was so easy for the venerable bishop and his companions that it was plain to see that the will of the saint was agreeable to the completion of this discovery and translation.”844 Peter added one final note to his account. As John, his wife, and his soldiers rejoiced at the arrival of St Martin’s relics, they directed that a portion should be given to the monastery of Montecassino, so that the monastery may hold forever the memory of this saint.

841 On the ways in which this account affirms the relationship between Bernard and the Normans, see Galdi’s passage on the Vita in Santi, 247-52. 842 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translationis, et miracula s. Martini, 838: “A Jonatha, Ricardi principis filio, qui tunc Caleni praeerat, accersito etiam equitum prudentissimorum coetu, consilium, qualiter hoc fieri posset expetit. Jonathas, vero, uti magnae inter saeculares vir prudentiae. . .” 843 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translationis, et miracula s. Martini, 838. 844 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translationis, et miracula s. Martini, 838: “Primus itaque Bernardus episcopus thesauri tam nobilis inveniendi amore succesnsus, oratione completa, ictum marmori, quo venerabile corpus tegebatur incussit, et quae pluribus antea difficilis fuerat, tam facilis venerabili praefato episcopo et comitibus suis sancti corporis est facta revelatio, ut ipsius sancti ad suae revelationis et translationis effectum consentanea voluntas facilimme posset agnosci.” 253

Peter concluded his narrative with an account of several miracles that occurred in both Carinola and Montecassino, thanks to the presence of St Martin’s relics.845

Peter the Deacon was drawn to the relics of St Martin for a good reason. Martin was, after all, associated with St Benedict, the founder of Peter’s monastery. By rewriting the narrative associated with St Martins’s translation, Peter the Deacon incorporated the legend of St Martin within his own institutional history. Beyond this, however, he also articulated the bonds between the Normans of Capua and Montecassino. The fact that John of Carinola, the son of Prince Richard of Capua, donated the relics to Montecassino represented and implied a bond shared between the ruling elite and the monastery. While Peter was writing a few decades after the alleged translation took place, this bond still had relevance to Montecassino in the 1130s and 40s. By this point, the Normans of Carinola had grown in strength, acquiring the Duchy of Gaeta in 1112.846 Many of these Norman lords had acquired their land, wealth, and power from the confiscation of properties from Lombard lords, whom they deemed to be traitorous. Therefore, by depicting the actions of Arichis II and his monastic beneficiaries, the monks of San Vincenzo, as unworthy to safeguard the relics of St Martin, even to the extent that these figures of the past were met with the anger of the saint, Peter the Deacon also used his narrative to bolster the authority of the Norman lords. Bernard and his Norman companions, the new elite of Carinola, fulfilled what Arichis II, the great Lombard relic collector, failed to do. This mechanism revealed that Montecassino, a monastery that had benefited greatly from the Norman rulers of Capua, was an institution in line with the current wave of authority. This approach is set in contrast to that of the abbey of San Vincenzo, which remained loyal to its Lombard roots. In this case, we can clearly see how the discovery of the relics of the same saint represented two varying forms of memory. On the one hand, St Martin recalled the glory of the Lombard past for the monks of San Vincenzo. Around the same time, St Martin’s blessing solidified the bonds between Montecassino and those who usurped power from the Lombard lords, the Normans. These sources demonstrate how the scene of discovery was a fulcrum on which an entire narrative history could pivot. Depending on the characters, their actions, and rewards, memory and history could be rewritten. Here, inventiones were used in the competition over the past.

845 Peter the Deacon, Vita, translationis, et miracula s. Martini, 839-40. 846 Loud, “Continuity and Change in Norman Italy: the Campania during the eleventh and twelfth centuries,” Journal of Medieval History 22.4 (1996): 333. 254

Conclusion

This chapter has explored how memory of the sacred past was used to explain the history of the abbey of San Vincenzo al Volturno. In particular, the use of hagiographical source material helps to understand why the Chronicon as a whole is a rather composite, not always chronological, assortment of sources. Hagiographies, like inventiones and translationes, punctuated sources of a more diplomatic nature. This created a “layered temporality” throughout the Chronicon in which local time was examined through the lens of the sacred past. This rooted the dynamics between temporal authorities and the abbey within the subtext of an ancient and sacred landscape were saintly dwelled. In this way, the abbey used its past and its spiritual identity in order to inspire a model for contemporary authorities during a time of great political change, upheaval, and difficulty for the abbey. In this wider structure, we can understand the function of inventiones.

Today, the ruins of the monastery of San Martino de Monte Massico are situated far above the daily activity of the towns at the base of the mountain. It is a quiet landscape accessible only by foot up a steep mountain. Although much that remains of the monastery is only vestiges, the cave oratory where St Martin prayed and where his relics were held remains, for the most part, intact. The signs that the cave was a space of local devotion, visited by the people of the surrounding area are still visible. While quiet today, in the late eleventh and early twelfth century the cave oratory was frequented by monks and pilgrims as well as princes, bishops, and counts, who came to venerate the relics of St Martin. Between the 1090s and the first decade of the twelfth century, the cave oratory was the subject of four separate discovery narratives. These sources tell how regional authorities ranging from Lombard princes and Norman counts and bishops gathered to uncover the relics of St Martin and carry them from the mountaintop monastery. The hermit’s shrine was then a space in which the leading authorities and ecclesiastical communities converged to articulate their roles in a shifting political landscape.

In all three traditions surrounding the relics of St Martin, a liturgical moment in the past was used to reveal bonds past and present, to amplify as well as to silence memories to suit the needs of the present. Within the Chronicon Vulturnense, the remote past was re-written in order to refute the challenges facing the monastery in the twelfth century. While it may not have proven successful in the recuperation of the abbey’s wealth and status compared to Montecassino’s, as

255

long as St Martin’s patronage was preserved in the liturgical memory expressed by the Chronicon Vulturnense, its power did not cease to exist.

256

Conclusion

The four case studies in this dissertation reveal the intersections of historical memory, devotion, and the formation of identity. This dissertation has examined inventiones composed, copied, and transmitted in southern Italy between the tenth and twelfth centuries in order to demonstrate how these sources were used not only for the glorification of God and the saints but also for rewriting the past through memory. By examining how the memory of the Lombard lords of the past manifested in inventiones, we have seen how the sense of the past was revived, altered, and erased depending on the needs of a given community. Within this general focus, this study has also used the liturgical context of inventiones to better understand how the messages within the narratives were constructed, diffused, and enhanced. Rather than examining inventiones as disembodied texts, each chapter has taken into consideration how inventiones were part of a wider devotional context, from their codicological contexts, bound within liturgical codices, to how inventiones reimagine and reconstruct specific moments in the liturgical history of a community. From this interpretive perspective, we have seen how the liturgy and devotion became a vehicle for writing history and how liturgical time, in turn, impacted communities’ understanding of their historical trajectories.

The Translatio S. Sossii, examined in Chapter 1, reveals how John the Deacon utilized the memory of St Sossius in order to bolster the reputation of his bishop, Stephanus III. Stephanus III and the Church of Naples faced numerous challenges during the ninth and tenth centuries, including pressure from Rome. It was in this context that the Translatio S. Sossii celebrated the rich history of episcopal authority and the prestige of the church in Naples. In doing so, John the Deacon preserved in memory the illustrious past of Naples. In the text, the memory of St Sossius, a symbol of the elite episcopacy in Naples, and the memory of the Lombard Prince Sicard, a threat to Neapolitan autonomy, intersected with the authority and holiness of Bishop Stephanus III, who orchestrated the search for Sossius’ relics. In doing so, Stephanus III helped to preserve the identity and spiritual prestige of Naples. Our examination of the Translatio also showed how charters were composed to complement the legend in the Translatio, revealing the porous boundaries between liturgical text and diplomatic records.

257

In Chapter 2, we saw how Radoinus, the deacon of the Church of Larino, turned to the memory of St Pardus to articulate his community’s historical identity. In the tenth and early eleventh century, Larino lay along a political frontier, on a boarder zone between Beneventan and Byzantine authorities, and on a religious frontier, between the Latin and Greek Orthodox churches. In the Vita S. Pardi, Radoinus used the past of his diocese to show that, even during its earliest years, it was bound to the Beneventan/Latin ecclesiastical authorities, a suffragan to the archdiocese of Benevento and the Latin Church. The discovery of Pardus’ relics activated a Latin identity for the Church of Larino, in a context where the community’s neighbors, Lesina and Lucera, had turned instead to Byzantine authorities in the course of the eleventh century. The Vita reconstructed the identity of Larino in part through a reimagining of a second saint besides Pardus: St Barbatus, one of the primary patrons of the Beneventan church and a hero to the earliest ecclesiastical leaders in the Lombard principality of Benevento. By uniting the memory of St Pardus to that of St Barbatus, Radoinus placed his community firmly within a sacred network of Latin dioceses. Our study of St Pardus’ inventio also focused on the transmission of the legend in a later Beneventan homiliary and how, bound with other liturgical sources pertaining to saints of Greek origin, the homiliary itself reveals how the very arrangement of liturgical material had the capacity to reimagine past networks of authority.

Chapter 3 examined the cult of St Mercurius of Caesarea in late eleventh- and twelfth-century Benevento. In this analysis, we viewed how the legend of St Mercurius’ inventio by Prince Arichis II changed over the course of centuries. The initial legend revealed the princely authority of Arichis II but, in its later redaction, the legend instead emphasized the spiritual prestige of the abbey of Santa Sofia. The abbey of Santa Sofia used its role as the primary source for liturgical manuscripts in twelfth-century Benevento to transmit the legend of its historical princely founder, Prince Arichis II, and one of its primary saintly patrons, Mercurius, in order to articulate its role in the changing political landscape of Benevento. Here, the abbey not only inserted the memory of St Mercurius within its liturgical manuscripts but also within its chronicle-cartulary, the twelfth-century Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae. In several documents copied within the Chronicon, the memory of St Mercurius is evoked in order to encourage patronage and support from the temporal and ecclesiastical authorities in southern Italy. Through this analysis, we see, once again, the purposeful mingling of hagiographical and historical documentation and commemoration.

258

In Chapter 4, we turned to the twelfth-century Chronicon Vulturnense in order to examine how inventiones took shape within a wider written history of a community. This investigation focused in particular on the relics of St Martin de Montemassico, which, by the mid-twelfth century, had been claimed by many: the communities of of San Martino and San Vincenzo al Volturno, the Norman bishop of Carinola, St Bernard, as well as the abbey of Montecassino. The Chronicon Vulturnense addressed the competition surrounding St Martin’s relics through various anecdotes about St Martin, including an inventio narrative in which Prince Arichis II plays a predominant role. Implicit within the tensions surrounding guardianship over Martin’s relics was control of land and authority in the coastal region surrounding Montemassico and Carinola. Our investigation of the Chronicon reveals that the abbey of San Vincenzo used inventio sequences in order to combat the loss of landed wealth in the wake of the Norman takeover of Capua and parts of Campania. These inventiones rewrote the past for the abbey of San Vincenzo, asserting the community’s historical patrimony over the cult of St Martin and the land surrounding his monastery. In betting on a Lombard prince in the inventio, the abbey was betting on the wrong horse and this error might be correlated to the abbey’s incapacity to regain its past prestige.

As a whole, this dissertation has made clear that inventiones, while at times reliant on trope and tradition, nevertheless have much to reveal about the local and particular circumstances in which they were composed. These four case-studies have illustrated that inventiones were used as tools not only to express spirituality and devotion but also to (re)write history to serve present needs. We have seen that, in particular, the memory of the Lombard lords was a powerful tool that several communities used in their inventiones to rewrite history in the course of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth, centuries in southern Italy. By joining the memory of Lombard authorities of the past with the discovery of saintly relics, communities blurred the lines between their political and sacred histories, transmitting a political message to their local, contemporary secular lords. Our study has also shown how inventiones, which were traditionally composed for use in a liturgical setting, reveal the extremely porous boundaries between historical and devotional writing in medieval communities. Through a focus on inventiones, we can see several processes at work. Namely, how the liturgy was a vehicle for the evolution of historical thought, how devotion was a way to express identity, and how memory of the past could be manipulated and reassembled to better suit the needs of the present.

259

Much of the material we have explored may seem remote to the modern reader. Divine revelations, princes who unearthed bones once buried in ancient graves, the compilation of charters, hymns, and histories reveal just how alive the dead were for many medieval communities. Yet, the impulse to attach our present to the past and to use long-deceased holy heroes as anchors for identity are impulses that we still hold in common with our medieval ancestors. We began this study with an excerpt from St Ambrose’s fourth-century Oratio de obitu Theodosii, in which he recalled Empress Helena’s miraculous discovery of the True Cross. Fittingly, we end our study with the story of the 2014 great pilgrimage to the shrine of St Sergius of Radonezh in Moscow to show that almost two thousand years after St Ambrose wrote, the bodies of the saints are indeed still with us.

St Sergius of Radonezh (c. 1314 - c. 1392) was a fourteenth-century charismatic and spiritual leader of the Grand Duchy of Moscow. St Sergius was the subject of an inventio account, composed in the first half of the fifteenth century by a hagiographer and of St Sergius named Epiphanius the Wise (d. 1420). Sergius is celebrated today for founding ’s first monastery, Holy -Saint-Sergius of Lavra in present-day Moscow and, for that reason, is called the abbot for all Russia. St Sergius was so influential during his life, in fact, that he came to hold an elevated place in the prince of Moscow’s court and persuaded political leaders of the duchy to abandon internecine fighting and focus their attention and political power on fighting the Mongols. Thus, today, Sergius is also often lauded for helping to unify the leaders of

Muscovite Rus’ in the Orthodox faith.847 The memory of St Sergius has been revived on numerous occasions throughout Russian history, as a reminder of the history of the Orthodox church, as a symbol of the origins of cenobitic monasticism in the country, and, indeed, as an expression of Russian identity.

According to the inventio account written about St Sergius, on the eve of a Tartar invasion, St Sergius appeared in a vision to the reigning abbot of his monastery, St Nikon. Sergius warned Nikon of the destruction of the monastery that would follow the impending invasion but

847 D. B. Miller, Saint Sergius of Radonezh: His Trinity Monastery, and the Formation of the Russian Identity (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2010); Miller, “The Cult of Saint Sergius of Radonezh and its Political Uses,” Slavic Review 52.4 (1993): 680-99. The hagiography is in Epiphanius the Wise, “Extended vita,” in L. A. Dmitriev and D. S. Likhachev, eds., Pamiatniki literatury Drevnei Rusi. XlV-seredina XV veka (Moscow: Khudozhestvennaia, 1981), 256-429. 260

promised that his community would soon rebuild their church and abbey. Fleeing the Turks, the monks hid in the nearby woods only to return home to find their former abbey in ashes, as predicted by their patron. Once again, Sergius appeared in a vision, this time to a layman, revealing that his relics were buried under the rubble. Sergius commanded the layman to inform the abbot and monks. Abbot Nikon led the search. At last, the community discovered St Sergius’ remains uncorrupted. After the monastery was rebuilt, the monks enshrined their patron’s body in the newly re-constructed church of Holy Trinity, where they remain to this day. The feast of the inventio is celebrated on July 5.

Composed centuries later and in a religious, political, and social environment very distinct from the sources we have examined in this dissertation, St Sergius’ inventio nonetheless offers a sequence of events which is by now familiar to the reader. Beyond reminding us that the composition and copying of inventiones was by no means a phenomenon unique to southern Italy between the tenth and twelfth centuries, Sergius’ inventio also underscores the enduring relevance of the memory of ancient saints and the political importance of their relics and inventiones.

In July 2014, thousands of Russians walked ten miles as pilgrims to the monastery of St Sergius in Moscow in celebration of his seven-hundredth birthday. The great pilgrimage took place in the same month that the Orthodox church celebrates the discovery of Sergius’ relics. The celebration was also planned to coincide with the restoration work on the saint’s eponymous monastery. As a part of this commemoration, the president of Russia, Vladimir Putin, made a special appearance, leading in prayer the throngs of pilgrims who had arrived to venerate Sergius’ relics. Standing before the crowd and beside Patriarch Kirill of the , President Putin recalled St Sergius, evoking his importance in Russian historical memory: “this appeal, filled with unshakable faith, helped to unite Russia’s lands and stamped itself forever on our people’s soul and in our historical memory . . . His [Sergius’] wise and solid words as a mentor and guide were a spiritual pillar and support during a difficult time of foreign invasion and internal discord.”848

848 N. MacFarquhar, “Putin Strives to Harness Energy of Russian Pilgrims for Political Profit,” New York Times (August 2, 2014), https://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/03/world/europe/from-pilgrims-putin-seeks-political- profit.html?_r=1 261

While a sense of nationalism rests plainly on the surface of President Putin’s address, more complex political undercurrents defined the commemoration of St Sergius’ relics and elevation of his cult by the President in 2014. A few months earlier, Russia had made its first incursions into Ukrainian territory, which led to the annexation of . Tensions between the neighboring countries were high as Putin prayed with the pilgrims to St Sergius’ tomb. Indeed, Moscow was blamed for a fatal plane crash in , which occured only days before and killed hundreds of civilians.849 Without explicit mention of this tragedy nor of the ongoing war between Ukraine and Russia, Putin spoke of St Sergius as if he were the preeminent saint of Russia. And yet, St Vladimir the Great (c. 958-1015) is traditionally considered to be the national saint of Russia, because he was the first ruler of Russia to convert to Christianity and founded the Russian Orthodox church in the eleventh century. Problematically for the President, however, St Vladimir’s relics lay in Ukraine. Thus, St Sergius proved a suitable replacement, the memory of whom evoked national unity and enduring holiness and whose relics were firmly in Russian territory. Putin, through his promotion of Sergius’ cult, strove to unite his political mission with the zeal for Sergius’ patronage and a sense of Russian pride and spirituality. The memory of Sergius’ patronage and the inventio of his relics (celebrated in the month of July) intersected with the political aims of Russia’s temporal leadership. Here, as in the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries in southern Italy, the remains of an ancient saint was more than a vestige of the past. Sergius’ memory and the past he represented, once reimagined, helped to reshape the present.

849 “MH17: Russia 'liable' for downing airliner over Ukraine,” BBC News (May 25, 2018), https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-44252150.

262

Appendix 1: Inventiones of southern Italy, c. 900-1150850

Date / range Medieval Alleged date Provenance of Saint Modern Edition of Author of inventio inventio Composition

Guarimpotus, Vita et translatio S. St Athanasius I, Athanasii Neapolitani Episcopi Guarimpotus Bishop of Naples (BHL 735 e 737), ed. A. Vuolo Grammaticus saec. ix2 877 Naples (c. 831-872) (Rome: Istituto storico italiano (saec. ix)851 per il Medio evo, 2001).

Falco of Benevento, Chronicon St Barbatus, Beneventanum: città e feudi Falco of Bishop of nell'Italia dei normanni, ed. E. Benevento c. 1124 1124 Benevento Benevento (c. 663- D'Angelo (Florence: SISMEL, (1070-1144) 681)852 1998), 74-82.

Anastasius Bibliothecarius, Translatio S. Bartholomei (BHL 1006), ed. U. Westerberg, in Anastasius St Bartholomew, Anastasius Bibliothecarius sermo Bibliothecarius c. 870-879 c. 839 Benevento Apostle (#1) Theodori Studiae de sancto (867-882) Bartholomeo apostolo: A Study (Stockholm: Almquist, 1963), 10-7.

Abbot Bertharius of Abbot Montecassino, Translatio St Bartholomew, Bertharius of corporis S. Bartholomaei saec. ix2 c. 839 Benevento Apostle (#2) Montecassino apostoli Beneventum (BHL (856-883) 1007), AASS August 5, 42-43.

Peter the Deacon, Miracula in St Benedict of Italia, Inventio et miracula auct. Peter the Nursia (c. 420- Petro diac. Casinensi (BHL Deacon (c. saec. xii1 1068 Montecassino 547), Abbot of 1142), AASS March 3, 288-97; 1107-1159) Montecassino Chron. Cas. bk.2, ch. 29, 395.853

St Canius of Lupus Prothospatharius, Annales, Lupus Acerenza, fourth- ed. G. H. Pertz, in MGH SS saec. xi2 1080 Acerenza Protospatharius century martyr (Hannover: Hahn, 1844), 5:60.

850 Sources discussed in this dissertation highlighted in light gray. 851 For attribution, see Vuolo, “Agiografia beneventana,” 71; P. Devos, “L’oeuvre de Guarimpotus, hagiographe napolitain,” Analecta Bollandiana 76 (1958): 151-87. 852 On the dates of Barbatus’ life and career, see Everett, Patron Saints, 40. 853 For more on this text see P. Meyvaert, "Peter the Deacon and the tomb of St Benedict: A Re-Examination of the Cassinese Tradition," Revue bénédictine 65 (1955): 3-70 and Galdi, Benedetto (Bologna: Società editrice il Mulino, 2016), ch. 6. 263

Berlengarius of Taranto, Historia Berlengarius St Cataldus, inventionis ac translatonis S. (noble from seventh-century c. 1151 1060-70 Taranto Cataldi (BHL 1653), AASS May Taranto, saec. monk (#1) 2, 569-74. xii)

Sermo de inventione S. Kataldi (BHL 1653d), ed. A. Hofmeister, St Cataldus, in Münchener Museum für seventh-century anonymous 1094-1174 1094 Taranto Philologie des Mittelalters und monk (#2) der Renaissance 4 (1924): 101- 114.

John of Berard, Chronicon Casuariensis, ed. A. Pratesi and John of Berard, Monastery of San St Clement, first- P. Cherubini, in Fonti per la monk of San c. 1182 1104 Clemente, century pope storia dell'Italia medievale 14 Clemente Casuaria (Rome: Istituto storico italiano, (saec. xii2) 2017), 1115-7.

Translatio S. Heliani, ed. S. Borgia, in Memorie istoriche St Helianus, della pontificia cittá di fourth-century anonymous saec. ix-xi c. 763 Benevento Benevento (Benevento: Stampe martyr del Salamoni, 1764), 1:199-206; also in MGH SLRI, 581-82.

St Januarius, fifth- Chronicon Salernitanum, ch. 60, century bishop of anonymous saec. ix c. 831 Benevento p. 60 and ch. 68, p. 65. Naples (#1)

St Januarius, fifth- Translatio SS. Ianuarii, Festi, et century bishop of Desideri, AASS September 6, anonymous saec. ix2 c. 831 Benevento Naples (#2) 888-90.

St Lawrence of Siponto, bishop of Vitae Laurentii episcopii Siponto (d. c. 545) c. 1066 - c. Sipontini (BHL 4790 and 4791), anonymous saec. xi Siponto (with St Stephanus 1100 AASS February 2, 57-62.854 Protomartyr and St Agatha)

St Leucius of De translationibus S. Leucii John of Trani , first- (BHL 4898), AASS January 1, (mid-eleventh pre-1063 saec. xi Trani century 672-3. century) missionary

854 A. Campione, "Lorenzo di Siponto: un vescovo del VI secolo tra agiografia e storia," Vetera Christianorum 41 (2001): 61-82. 264

Sts Marcianus, Dorus, Potitus and Prosperus, Felix, Falco of Cervolus, Stephen Falco of Benevento, Chronicon Benevento c. 1120s 1119 Benevento the Levite, and Beneventanum, 46-52. (1070-1144) John the archbishop of Benevento

St Martinus of Historia translationis Montemassico, reliquiarum S. Martini ex anonymous saec. xi2/xii1 1094 Carinola fifth-century Montemassico Carinulam (BHL hermit (#1) 5602), AASS October 10, 833-5.

St Martinus of John the Monastery of San Montemassico, John of San Vincenzo, Chron. Chronicler of saec. xii saec. viii2 Vincenzo al fifth-century Vult, 1:302-4. San Vincenzo, Volturno hermit (#2) saec. xii

"Adelbertus, monk of "Adelbertus, Montemassico," ed. H. Moreto, St Martinus of monk of in "Un opuscule du Diacre Montemassico, Montemassico" Carinola / Abbey Adelbert sur S. Martin de saec. xii2 758- 787 fifth-century (likely Peter of Montecassino Montemassico (BHL 5601)," hermit (#3) the Deacon, c. Analecta Bollandiana 25 (1906): 1130s) 243-57.

St Martinus of Peter the Deacon, Vita, translatio Peter the Montemassico, et miracula S. Martini abbatis Deacon (c. c. 1130 1094 Carinola fifth-century (BHL 5604), AASS October 10, 1107-1159) hermit (#4) 835-838.

Gregory VII, Registrum, ed. E. St Matthew, Caspar, MGH Epistolae selectae Pope Gregory saec. xi2 1080 Salerno apostle (Berlin: Weidmann, 1920) vol. VII 2.2, bk. 8.8, p. 526-7.

Inventio, Translationes, Miracula Amandus, St Maurus, saec. XII, auct. Amando ep. Bishop of Pantalemeon, and c. 1167 1166 Quintodecimo Vigiliensi (BHL 5792), AASS July Bisceglie (saec. Sergius, martyrs 6, 359-71. xii2)

St Mercurius, Translatio S. Mercurii (BHL Byzantine warrior anonymous saec. xi2-xii2 768 Benevento 5936), in MGH SRLI, 576-8. saint

Radoinus of Larino, Vita et St Pardus, late- Radoinus of obitus S. Pardi Larinatum auct. antique bishop of Larino (saec. saec. x2/xi saec. vii Larino/Benevento Radoino (see appendix 2 for Lucera x2/xi) edition).

265

Historia inventionica S. Prisci St Priscus, Greek Quintodecimo/ (BHL 6929), AASS September 1, anonymous 1138-1154 1138-43 martyr Frigento 216-18.

St Sabinus, bishop Historia, vitae, et inventionis S. of Canosa (514- Sabini episcopi (BHL 7443), Anonymous c. 806-817 saec. vii2 Canosa 566) (#1) AASS February 2, 324-29.

John the Archdeacon, "Inventio . St Sabinus, bishop Sabini (BHL 7444)," ed. G. John the of Canosa (514- Cioffari and E. Lupoli Tateo, in Archdeacon c. 1091 c. 1091 Bari 566) (#2) Antiche cronache di terra di Bari (saec. xi2) (Bari: Edpulia, 1991), 279-81.

St Secundinus, Historia inventionis corporis S. late-antique Secundinus (BHL 7554), AASS Anonymous c. 1022-1034 1022-1034 Troia bishop of Troia February 2, 530-1. (#1)

Guaiferius of Montecassino, St Secundinus, "Inventio corporis S. Secundinus late-antique (BHL 7556)," ed. O. Limone, in Guaiferius of c. 1067 1022-1034 Troia bishop of Troia "L'opera agiografica di Guaiferio Montecassino (#2) di Montecassino,” Miscellanea Casinense 47 (1983), 77-130.

St Severinus of John the Deacon, Translatio S. John the Noricum (c. 410- Severini (BHL 7658), MGH Deacon (c. c. 902 c. 902 Naples 482) SRLI, 457-9. 880- c. 907)

St Sossius of John the Deacon, Translatio S. John the Naples, fourth- Sosii (BHL 4134-5), MGH SRLI, Deacon (c. 906 c. 906 Naples century martyr 459-62. 880- c. 907)

St Trophimina of Historia inventionis ac Taormina, fourth- translationis sanctae anonymous saec. ix2 - x2 saec. ix Amalfi century virgin Trophimenae (BHL 8316-18), martyr AASS July 2, 231-40.

Twelve Holy Translatio duodecim martyrum Brothers, late- anonymous saec. vii - ix 760 Benevento (BHL 2302), MGH SRLI, 574-6. antique martyrs

266

Appendix 2: The Vita Sancti Pardi confessor et episcopi by the Deacon Radoinus Introduction

The Vita Sancti Pardi confessori et episcopi may have been composed between the late tenth and early eleventh century in the city of Larino, located in the present-day province of Campobasso, technically in the province of Molise but very close to the northern border of Apulia. Its author was a deacon (levita) named Radoinus, who presumably was a member of the Church in Larino, although this is not mentioned explicitly in the Vita. The main interest in the Vita stems primarily from it being one of the few hagiographic sources from pre-Norman Apulia, a territory which is marked by a dearth of hagiographic narrative from before the mid-eleventh century, compared to other regions in southern Italy.855 In addition to this, the Vita provides evidence for the political function of relic veneration and popular devotion along a contested political frontier. The struggle for land and authority in northern Apulia between the Lombards and Byzantines, which took place through the course of the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries, provides a convincing and compelling political context for the composition of the Vita.

The Vita S. Pardi, to my knowledge, survives in only two manuscripts. The earliest of these is a liturgical manuscript held in Benevento’s Biblioteca Capitolare, MS 6, 269va-273va (=BC). This recension dates to sometime in the second half of the eleventh century, according to its hands. The contents of the manuscript have been examined in detail by Mallet and Thibaut, and therefore need not be repeated here.856 The second surviving witness to the Vita (and the only one edited so far) is a fragment from the so called Codex Boviensis (= B), dated to the thirteenth century and now held in Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale XV. AA. 14, fols. 22v-24v.857 In B, The Vita is missing its final folio, which would have comprised Radoinus’ concluding remarks. B was originally a collection of Latin saints’ vitae from southern Italy. It included popular sources

855 Martin, La Pouille, 248-50 and “Les modèles paléochrétiens dans l’hagiographie apulienne,” 67-86; Head, “Discontinuity and Discovery.” 856 Mallet and Thibaut, Les manuscrits, 1:150-60. See also chapter 2 of this dissertation for a more complete discussion of the paleographical characteristics and contents of BC 6. 857 For a list of contents and an analysis of the paleography and dating, see François Dolbeau, “Le légendier de la cathédrale de Bovino,” Analecta Bollandiana 96 (1978) 126-51. 267

like the Vita Barbati, the Vita S. Sabini, as well as those that circulated less widely, like the Vita S. Pardi. Given the concentration of Beneventan saints, it has been suggested that B was copied from sources held in Benevento.858 Therefore, I believe it is highly plausible that the version of the Vita S. Pardi in B was based on that found in BC. Other than missing the final folio of the Vita, there are, however, several variants between the Vita as it appears in BC and B. These entail either the omission of certain words or variations in phrasing. None of the variants change the actual narrative of the Vita, with the exception of the lack of Radoinus’ conclusion in B.

Editorial Principles

All print editions of the Vita have been based on the recension held in B, and thus reflect a witness that is both later and incomplete.859 I have based the following edition of the Vita S. Pardi on the version found in BC because it represents the earliest extant version of the source as well as the only complete witness. In addition to this, as my study in chapter 2 demonstrates, the inclusion of the Vita in BC also provides fruitful ground to explore the transmission of Pardus’ cult to Benevento and the celebration of his feast day there. The Vita in BC was transcribed in the sixteenth century by Borgia in Vat. lat. 296, fols. 307r-318v (=B). Where there is an illegible word or phrase in BC due to damage to the manuscript, I have relied on Borgia’s transcription to supply the necessary content. For the purpose of comparing the recensions of the Vita in BC and B, I have used the edition of B found in Acta Sanctorum (AASS) by the Bollandist Godfried Henschen (=H). In the critical apparatus, I have indicated any variants between H and BC. Here, the initial word in italics represents the version held in BC. E.g.: in victricia arma] victricia arma H

(text as it appears in BC] variant in H)

858 Dolbeau, “Le légendier,” 134 and above, chapter 2. 859 The Vita et Obitus S. Pardi is edited by G. Henschen, in AASS May 6, 371-373; Pollidori, ed., in Vita et antiqua monumenta S. Pardi ep. et conf.;Tria, ed., in Memorie storiche, 634-8; Waitz, ed., in MGH SRLI, 589-90. These three editions include a similar and abrupt ending: “animabat trepidos,” following the incomplete ending of the Vita in B. In his edition, Pollidori explicitly mentioned the codex Boviensis as the source of Tria’s edition. See further, Dolbeau, “La légendier,” 12.

268

With the exception of integrating the citical apparatus, source apparatus, and limited number of textual notes along the bottom of the page, I have otherwise followed the editorial principles found in the Centre for Medieval Studies’ “Supplement to the Guide Sheet for PhD Dissertation Preparation: Text Editions.” Thus, words or letters supplied are indicated by pointed brackets < >. Words that should be omitted are shown in square brackets [ ]. I have given details of scribal alterations and additions in the critical apparatus. Missing sections, due to damage or erasure, have been indicated by ***. To the best of my ability, I have preserved the orthography of the manuscript. The distinction between u and v is, again, in accordance with the CMS guidelines: in the instance of lower cases, I have preserved the orthography of the manuscript; where the initial capital V is written as a U if it is a vowel and V if it is a consonant. All abbreviations are expanded, including all dipthongs as they were indicated by the scribe. The end of columns and folios is indicated by a vertical line |, followed by the folio and column number in bold-faced type. The punctuation is modern but I have considered the punctuation of the original manuscript. In most cases, where the scribe used a semicolon to indicate pause, I have used a comma. Where the scribe used a colon to indicate a full stop, I have supplied a period. The capitalization of proper names follows that of the original manuscript except in a few instances where I felt it necessary to supply a capital (e.g. Augustus, Barbati, Romuald, and Pardus throughout). I have supplied my own chapter divisions but have maintained, for the most part, the paragraph separations in accordance with BC. Biblical references are to the Vulgate.

269

XVI Kalends November

Vita et obitus sancti Pardi confessoris et episcopi

Ad salvatoris magnificentiam laudemque totius ecclesie, operae pretium credimus fore, si triumpos confessorum atque pontificum Christi et coronas certaminum annotamus. Ast si antique

blivionis860 vetustas silentio deprimat, non dubium est n eos carere culpam861 invidie, qui acceptum munus Doni862 ei talenti non ad utilitatem christianorum fidelium sed seculari studio torpente lingua impertiri maluerunt. Cum gentiles | 269vb poetae inani studio dediti, priscorum infidelium facta virorum, figmentis suorum carminum toto orbe diffamare studuerunt.

Cum accuratius foret illustribus viris, celeberimum agonem istius beatissimi pontificis, ad memoriam ducere, et mentes fidelium exemplo illius certaminis pia devotione solidare. Dum autem felicitates sanctissimi Pardi confessoris atque pontificis releguntur, corda audientium despectis secularibus negotiis toto conanime amore celestis patriae inardescunt, et illic festinare desiderant, ubi remuneratoris certaminum sine fine regna percipiant. Ad haec mihi placuit scribere omnibus spiritualibus fratribus; audientibus vel videntibus palmam istius faustissimi agoniste, qualiter agonizaverit contra omnia carnalia vitia et quam accerrime contra suum palaestritem diabolum luctaverit ut glorificent Deum misericordiumque | 270ra patrum, qui omnibus sibi adherentibus in victricia arma863 confert; et salvos facit sperantes in se. Nunc autem divino fretus nutu, sanctis vestris864 orationibus adiutus, sanctissimi patris865 Pardi confessoris

860 oblivionis and non] water/wax drop on the manuscript obstructing the word. Cf. B, fol. 307a. 861 culpam] culpa B. 862 Domini] water damage to manuscript obstructs the word. 863 in victricia arma] victricia arma in H. 864 Sanctis vestris] sanctissimis vestris H. 865 sanctissimis patris] istius sanctissimi Pardi H.

270

atque pontificis vitam et meritum, enucleatus exarar866 aggrediar, ut haurientes corporalibusauribus eius sanctissima facta, internorum viscera refecta dulcedine, mellito gutture indesinenter eructuent. Sed quo867 iste Confessor atque Pontifex Pardus peregre profectus sit, in fine istius opusculi historialiter enarramus. Cumque hic sanctus intellegendo et operando aliis praedicasset, quasi duplicatum de negotio lucrum reduxit. Servus vero qui geminata talenta retulit, a Domino laudatur, atque ad aeternam remunerationem perducitur,868 cum ei voce

Domini dicitur: Euge serve bone et fidelis quia super pauca fuisti fidelis,869 supra multa te constituam intra in gaudium Domini tui. Sed tunc | 270rb fidelis servus supra multa constituitur, quando devicta870 omnis corruptionis molestia, de aeternis gaudiis in illa caelesti sede gloriatur.

Tunc ad Domini sui gaudium perfecte intromittitur, quando in aeterna illa patria assumptus atque angelorum coetibus admixtus, sic interius gaudet de munere ut non sit iam quod exterius doleat de corruptione. Nam et de pigro servo scriptum est: tollite ei talentum et date ei qui decem talenta habet. Ubi etiam mox sententia subinfertur qua dicitur: omni enim habenti dabitur et abundabit ei autem qui non habet, et quod videtur habere, aufertur ab eo. Unde necesse est fratres mei ut supra omne quod agitis erga caritatis custodiam vigiletis.

Vera autem caritas est, et amicum diligere propter Deum. Quia qui non habet caritatem omne bonum amittet. Hic autem venerabilis vir atque omnium ore canendus; in quo et | 270va Vera confessio fuit in verbis; et triumphus in virtute sanctitatis, tantae caritatis et sanctitatis extitit, ut

866 A later hand added the superscript abbreviation for “tur” but the word seems to have been written initially as exarari in BC. 867 quo] quod H. 868 perduciter] reduciter H. 869 quia super pauca fuisti fidelis] missing in H; Euge serve bone et fidelis quia super pauca fuisti fidelis, supra multa te constituam intra in gaudium Domini tui (Matt. 25:23). 870 devicta] devitate H. 271

sua infensa plebs diabolico viro infecta,871 dum aemulanter eum expellere conaretur propter suam sanctissimam praedicationem, et propter divinum semen, quod anxie cupiebat serere in mentibus eorum, et spinas impietatis evellere, etiam872 sponte vellet873 odiis iniquissimaesuae plebis et ut eam lucraretur Dominus per se ad tempus locum dare ut ora balbutientium canum obstruerentur et in tempore ipse cum fructu venire. Sed minime ei concessum est, eo quod plures praesciti essent ad interitum perditionis. Sed nunc qua occasione vel quibus precibus, istius sanctissimi viri confessoris et episcopi Pardi vitam comere exorsus sim,874 evidenter audite. Cum quietus essem ego Radoinus peccator et indignus laevita in Dei servitor, nullis ventorum fla- |

270vb tibus praepeditus sed contemplative divinus praecinctus orationibus, cominus875 astitit ante me quaedam Christi famula, Mirata nomine, obsecrans cum lacrimis provoluta pedibus, caputque solo inhaerens ut istius clarissimi uiri actus exararem, ut et praesentibus gaudium foret, et futuris accommodaret paradysiacum quaestum. Sed dum me ineruditum conspicerem, et divinarum876 harundinum veraciter nescium auribus audivi voces illius, sed penetrabiliibus cordis haud inhaeserunt, propter importabile pondus et quia sanctissimi pardi merita, etiamsi adesset Maronis profusa loquacitas; numquam valeret exponere vel seriatim comere. Sed victus precibus et lacrimis ispius clarissime mulieris non causa temeritatis aut iactantae adiutus precibus sancti confessoris Pardi exorsus sum edere ea, quae de tanto clarissimo viro mihi | 270bisra possibilia et nostrae memoriae accomodata fuerunt. Ut ad aedificationem animarum omnibus proficuum et notissimum esset.

871 sua infensa plebs diabolico viro infecta] missing in H. 872 etiam] et cum H. 873 vellet] possible erasure here between vellet and odiis; vellet] cessisset H. 874 sim] sum H. 875 In the manuscript, there is an erasure here of the letters “us” following the word cominus. 876 divinarum harundinum veraciter nescium auribus audivi] missing in H. 272

Chapter 1: Hic autem praedicatus pontifex venerandus Pardus, fuit de civitate Poliponissu877 et quia suae dioceseos omnes cultores per abruptra currebant propriam sequentes voluntatem, coepit eos alloqui et divinae sermone praedicationis eis infundere quatenus a pestifero errore auferre potuisset. Illi autem aegre ferentes suam praedicationem, nequiter878 et cum dedecore expulerunt eum de suo episcopoatu Iudaico more dicentes: nolumus hunc regnantesuper nos et quato plus verba veritatis attentius praedicabat, tanto plus corda pravorum hominum more nitri ad peius scaturriebant. Unde et Salomon ait: Sicut qui mittit acetum in nitro, sic est qui cantat carmina cordi pessimo.879 Expulsus autem | 270rb de civitate, cum aliquantis clericis, venit

Romam cum magno merore ad apostolicum, qui illis diebus praeerat cathedrae quem ipse venerabilis papa Cornelius880 cum clericis suis honorifice suscipiens881 ac blande consolans sufficientia in sibi iussit accomodari stipendia et hospitia insuper et locum habitandi in urbe per spiritum sanctum cognosens magne virtutis esse cirum illum qui advectaverat.882

Chapter 2: Sed post quam eius fatigata membra refocilata sunt, et aliquantisper receperunt vires, casus et gesta suarum ovium cum luctu magno retulit in auribus summi pontificis ut consuleret ei beatus papa Cornelius quod ille883 faceret de suo episcopatu vel qualiter extra suam parrochiam quamvis inuitus degendo peregrinaretur. Cui praephatus papa ait noli fili dies tuos merore consumere sed habeto nostrum solamen in proximo enim Deus nobis et tibi dabit suum consilium. | 270bisva Post non multos vero dies, cives sui ad limina apostolorum venientes

877 variant of peloponnesus, e.g. the southern part of Greece. 878 nequiter] nequitius H. 879 Prov. 25:20. 880 Cornelius was pope between 251-253. 881 erasure between honorifice and suscipiens. 882 habitandi in urbe […] advecterat] habitare in urbe per Spiritus sanctum cognoscens quam magnae virtutis esset vit ille qui adventaverat H. 883 quod ille] quid inde H. 273

indagare studuerunt si suus pastor illuc advenisset. Quem anxie in urbe et in suburbanis querentes, iam beluina feritate deposita, reppererunt eum divinis orationib884 vacare et apud papam in urbe morari. Ad quem cum magno luctu et instantia precum accedentes, oppido deprecabantur, ut ad propriam sedem reverteretur. Quorum preces quia senio et valitudine fatigabatur flocci pendens, iussu summi pontificis et sancti concilii roboratus consilio licentiam dedit eis alium inthronizare in sua sede et se vestigiis summi pontificis adiunctum, in urbe linquerent commansurum. Quam iussionem quamvis cum merore suscipiens accepto consilio, elegerunt pontificem et ad propria cum ingenti tristia repedaverunt.

Hic autem predictus pontifex beatus Pardus postquam sui cives regressi sunt ad propria, expetivit a | 270bisvb papa ut sibi locum annueret commandendi885 in Apulia ubi et suas calamitates lugubri officio defleret et deo se iungeret instantius serviendo.886 Quam petitionem summus pontifex cum gaudio perficiens et quia locum invenerat suum [velle]887 implendi desiderum, sodales etiam cum petitione attribuit. At ille compos voti effectus, stipatus magnis catervis et sanctissimis turbis, venit Apuliam inveniensque ibi locum aptum sui desideri, applicuit in sub urbano opulentissimae Lucerae. In quam ingressus, mirae magnitudinis et pulchritudinis edificare iussit duas ecclesias haerentes muro civitatis in quibus deo servivit per tempore plura et erga quas sibi parvissimam et artissimam cellulam feri praecepit. In qua per plures annos degens; afflictus multis vigiliis et inaediis simulque orationibus Deo animam reddit.

884 orationibus] written as orationibi. 885 commandendi] a later hand changed commandeno to comandeni. 886 et deo se iungeret instantius serviendo] missing in H. 887 velle] crossed out by scribe. 274

Chapter 3: Post cuius excessum meritis accolarum permisit omnipotens | 271ra flagellari eos plagis maximis etiam et totam Apuliam depopulari. Quia tunc egressus imperator Augustus

Constantinus888 de sua urbe cum magno exercitu transfretavit maria venitque Tarantum lata arva implens suo exercitu. Concite autem inde surgens cum suo apparatu totam Apuliam vastavit atque predatus est. Inde Luceriam adiens acerime dimicar[i]889 iussit et diversas machinas apponi quamdiu caperetur. Capta vero usque ad solum iussit prosterni et exusta igni, omnem populum, qui prius non fugerat, in captivitatem mitti. Alacer autem Augustus redditus de victoria suorum insatiatus adhuc scelere praecepit amovere castra et ocius erga moenia olim ditissimae

Beneventi castra metari, in qua Romualdus princeps cum sanctissimo sacerdote Barbato et paucis validissimis Langobardis morabatur. Quam circumseptam predonibus et innumer | 271rb abiliexercitu et novas machinas apponi precipiens ut dolo aut virtute caperetur. Sed Deus omnipotens meritis et oratione betissimi Barbati enervavit vires militum et sic demum Augusutus vanus et vacuus restitit tantum acceptis obsidibus inde pervolat, Neapolim est ingressus et velivolum mare appetens suos adiit fines. Lucerinus autem episcopus, qui ante quam caperetur sua diocesis latenter fugerat cum suis clericis, in aliqua parte Apuliae condidit oppidum nomine

Lisinam, in quo et moratus est per annos non exiguos.

Chapter 4: Sed postquam Deus permisit flagellari Ausoniam barbarorum gladiis, sunt ingressi

Agareni et late eam depopulantes, magno cum impetu venerunt Larinum, quam destruentes, habitatores ipsius gladiis acciverunt. Post haec vero, quia habitatoribus carebat ipsa depopulata civitas, ierunt habitatoes de oppido Lisina illuc et furtim tulerunt duo corpore sanctorum, | 271va

Primiani et Firmiani ibi quiestentium et duxerunt Lisinam. Cum autem hominem Larineses hac

888 Byzantine Emperor Constans invaded southern Italy in 663. 889 dimicare] later hand changed dimicari to dimicare. 275

illacque discurrerent per agros, invenerunt sepulcra sanctorum effossa et corpora sanctorum ablata, in magno itaque merore positi et diutius lamentantes suis indicant concivibus quibus adiunctis sollicitius consulunt et per plura loca indagnatur ut santorum corpore a quibus piratis sint delata in lucem per duceret Dominus omnipotens. Quo comperto quod homines de oppido

Lisinae rapuissent, omnes se in armis preparantes, properarunt Luceriam quam circumeuntes; pervenerunt ad sepulcrum sancti Pardi confessoris et episcopi quod effodientes reppererunt sanctum corpus intactum, minus tantum uno pollice quod cum gaudio elevantes, dignis linteaminibus involutum ac thimiamatibus praecedentibus, et faculis coruscantibus, cum ymnis et canticis iter arrep | 271vb tum coeperunt properare Larinum. Sed antequam appropinquassent portas civitatis, vectores ipsius sancti pignoris substanterunt novalentes incedere, divina clementia talia operante. Cumque omnes qui ad sancti corporis obsequium confluxerant hoc cernerent, attoniti de tanto miraculo coeperunt flere et solotenus conquinescentes et et ubertim genas madefacientes, prostrati ante sanctum corpus has voces cum prece et magnis promissionibus emittebant: O sanctissme praesul beate Parde, qui et caecos videre fecisti, et surdos audire, claudosque ambulare paralyticos contractione nervorum laborantes in pristinum officium reuxisti obsessos ab immundis spiritibus, non solum prece sed interdum etiam potestate sanasti, adesto nunc afflictis reliquiis Larinentium et concede ut infra moenia istius civitatis intomissum te mereamur | 272ra 890 protectorem et defensorem non solum corporum sed etiam animarum ut sicut reliquae civitates tripudiant et extolluntur in suis sanctis protectoribus, sic et nos gaudeamus te habentes gubernatorem. Ad has preces et larimas, beatus

Pardus confessor et pontifex divino munere motus, et gressus redditit hominum et prosperum iter eundi ad civitatem ut et ipsi gauderent se exauditos, et ipse ibi quiesceret in loco sibi a Domino

890 habere] erased in BC but see B, fol. 315b. 276

praeparato. Tunc omnes vectores et obsecutores ipsius sancti pignoris, elevantes illud cum ymnis et canticis et omni honore, introduxerunt in Larinensem civitatem corpus beati Pardi episcopi et posuernt eum in aecclesia sancte Dei genitricis et virginis Mariae usque quo sibi dignam fabircaretur aeclessia in qua poneretur. In qua non post multos dies positus omnipotens Dominus suis fidelibus multa beneficia praestat per eum usque in hodiernum diem.

Chapter 5: Tempore | 272rb autem quodam quo Dominus 891 flagellari Italos pro suis iniquitatibus flagellis paganorum ingressi Ungari892 experiam,893 omnes Christicolas quotquot obvios habuerunt vel hostes secundum suum posse necaverunt et moenia subvertentes urbium munitissimarum ac depopulantes provincias; pervenerunt Larinum quam graviter oppungantes, depredanti sunt usque ad internicionem. Sed cum vellent reverti cum spoliis et captivis in sua castra, orantibus civibus ad tumulum beatissimi pardi episcopi ut et eos liberaret et captivos solueret, tantam confusionem contulit eis, ut tremebundi fugerent in sua tentoria894 et homines ac bestias et universa spolia relinquentes, quasi a magna militum manu cogerentur sic ocius fugiebant. Captivi vero ad civitatem reversi iam solute, glorificabant Deum et sanctum

Pardum confessorem et episcopum, cuius precibus ab hostium manibus liberari merebantur.

Alio autem tempore, impetu | 272va 895 ipsam civitatem et expoliantes eam, venerunt as ecclesiam ubi tumulatus erat beatus Pardus episcopus erga cuius tumulum latebant quidam Guido presbiter, cum quadam vetula ac parvo puerli et expoliantes

891 permisit] my insertion is conjectural. The original wording was damaged even before Borgia’s transcription. Cf. B, fol. 316b; permisit is also used in H. 892 This invasion took place around 937, according to Leo Marsicanus (Chron. Cas. bk. 1.55, p. 141). 893 E.g. Hesperiam. 894 in sua tentoria] in suis tentoriis H. 895 facientes ungari ceperunt] obscured by water damage; For my insertion, see Borgia, fol.317a. 277

praephatam ecclesiam omnibus bonis, sic caecati sunt meritis beati Pardi episcopi, ut nec viderent neque contingerent latinantes. Post non plures annos quaedam caeca veniens ad sepulcrum eius miseriacordiam petens ut lumen reciperet, statim eo operante, consecuta est illuminationem. O quanti caeca, quanti demoniaci, quanti paralytici susceperunt sanitatem ad sepulcrum eius, et usque hodie suscipiunt humiliter et devote petentes.

Chapter 6: Fuit enim his pastor himilis et benignus, nullum spernens, nullum despiciens, omnibus tribuebat, omnibus indulebat, animabat trepidos,896 mitigabat violentos hos verbis, illos edificabat exemplis. Et ideo laudetur in Domino anima eius ut revelentur opera illius omnibus |

272vb timentibus Deum, quia contemplavit et intellexit mandata Dei sui et operatus est. Euge897 nunc venerande pastor et Dei electe, exulta beate pater, quia consumasti praecepta dominica et opera sancta, nunc cum Christo eiusque civibus vernas incaelestibus sedibus. Unde precamur tuam benivolentiam sancte confessor et praesul Parde, ut tuum humillimum gregem et miserum non derelinquas sed modo cum adiunctus es in spiritum illi cui in corpore devote servuisti eius omnipotentiam deprecare, ut liberet nos ab insidiis iniquorum spirituum et secunda morte, faciatque nos peritura mundi gaudia despicere eternam beatitudinem concupiscere regna beata appetere prospera huius labentis saeculi conculcare diabolicas fraudes vitaret omnes pompas malignorum spirituum fugere ut eius vocem sequendo illuc mereamur conscendere, ubi tu merito sublimatus es. Ast si illo | 273va ***898 conscendere assumes, ut fatemur. te intercedente mereamur obtinere paradysicae amoenitatis gloriam et illic coloni effecti; indesinenter ac sine fine manere. Praestante et ad iuvante Domino nostro Ieasu Christo cui est honor et gloria

896 animabat trepidos] H ends abruptly here. 897 Use of repetition from preface. 898 *** conscendere] obscured due to damage to folio. 278

magnitudo et manificentia virtus et imperium una cum patre sanctorum flamine insempiterna saecula saeculorum. Amen.

279

Bibliography

Manuscripts Consulted

Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare, MS 1 (saec. xi/xii) Benevento, Biblioteca Capitolare, MS 6 (saec. x/xi) Primary Sources Acta Vaticana. In AASS September 4. 866–70. “L’adventus S. Nycolai Beneventum.” Edited by C. Lepore and R. Valli. Studi Beneventani 7 (1998): 3–118. Alfanus of Salerno. Translatio duodecim martyrum. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 574– 576. Hanover: Hahn, 1878. Ambrose of Milan. Oratio de obitu Theodosii. In PL 16. cols. 1399–1403 ———. Epistolae LIX. In PL 16. cols. 1182–3. Annales Beneventani. In “Gli ‘Annales Beneventani.’” Edited by O. Bertolini. Bullettino dell'Istituto storico italiano per il medio evo 42 (1923): 1–163. Annales Fuldenses. In MGH Scriptores (in folio), Annales et chronica aevi Carolini. Edited by G. Pertz, vol. 1, 337–416. Hannover: Hahn, 1846. Anastasius Bibliothecarius. Sermo de Sancto Bartolomeo Apostolo. Edited by U. Westerbergh. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1963. Auxilius of Naples. Libellus in defensionem Stephani episcopi et praefatae ordinationis. In Auxilius und Vulgarius Quellen und Forschungen zur Geschichte des Papstthums im Anfange des zehnten Jahrhunderts. Edited by E. Dümmler, 96–106. Leipzig: Hirzel, 1866. Beneventanum Troporum Corpus I: Tropes of the Proper of the Mass from Southern Italy, A.D. 1000–1250. Edited by A. Planchart. Madison: A-R Editions, 1994. Berlengerius of Taranto. Historia inventionis et translationis S. Cataldi. In AASS May 2 (1680): 570–75. Bertharius abbas Casinensi. Translatio Corporis S. Bartholomaei apostoli Beneventum. In AASS August 5. 42–43. I carmi di Alfano I arcivescovo di Salerno. Edited by A. Lentini and F. Avagliano. Miscellanea cassinese 38. Montecassino: Abbey of Montecassino, 1974. Chronica Sancti Benedicti Casinensis. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 467–488. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Chronicon Causauriense. Edited by L. A. Muratori. Vol. 2, bk. 2 of Rerum Italicarum Scriptores. Mediolani: Ex Typographia Societatis Palatinae, 1726. 775–916. Chronica monasterii casinensis. In MGH Scriptores (in folio). Edited by H. Hoffmann, vol. 34, pp. (Hannover: Hahn, 1980).

280

Chronicon Salernitanum. A Critical Edition with Studies on Literary and Historical Sources and on Language. Edited by U. Westerbergh. Stockholm: Almquist, 1956. Chronicon Sanctae Sophiae (cod. Vat. Lat. 4939). Edited by J.-M. Martin. 2 vols. Rome, Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 2000. Codex Carolinus. In MGH Epistola. Vol. 3. Edited by Walter Gundlach, 469–657. Berlin: Weidmann, 1867. Codice diplomatico del monastero benedettino di S. Maria di Tremiti (1005–1237). Edited by A. Petrucci. Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano, 1960. The Deeds of the Franks and the Other Pilgrims to Jerusalem. Edited and translated by R. Hill. London: T. Nelson, 1962. Desiderius of Montecassino. Dialogues. In MGH Scriptores. Vol. 30.2. Edited by G. Schwartz and A. Hofmeister. Leipzig: Karoli Hiersemann, 1934. De translationibus s. Leucii. In AASS January 1. 672–3. Eadmer of Canterbury. “De reliquiis s. Audoeni et quondundam aliorum sanctorum quae Cantuariae in ecclesiae Domini Salvatoris habentur.” Edited by A. Wilmart. Revue des sciences religieuses 15 (1935): 362–70. Epistolae pontificum romanorum ineditae. Edited by S. Lowenfeld. Leipzig: Veit et comp., 1885. Epitaphium Siconis principis. In MGH Antiquitates, Poetae Latini medii aevi. Edited by E. Dümmler, vol. 2, pp. 649–51. Berlin: Weidmann, 1884. Erchempert. Historia Langobardorum Beneventum. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 231–64. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Falco of Benevento. Chronicon Beneventanum. Edited by E. D’Angelo. Florence: SISMEL edizioni del Galluzzo, 1998. S. Gregorii Magni Registrum Epistularum Libri I-VII. Edited by D. Norberg. Turnhout: Brepols, 1982. Historia inventionis et translationis S. Cataldi. In AASS May 2. 569–74. Historia inventionis ac translatio S. Trophimena v. m. in Sicilia. In AASS July 2. 233–40. Historia inventionis S. Secundini. In AASS February 2. 530–5. Historia inventionis s. Prisci. In AASS September 1. 216–8. Historia vitae inventionis ac translationis Sancti Sabini episcopi. In AASS February 2. 324–329. Historia translationis reliquiarum S. Martini ex Montemassico Carinulam. In AASS October 10. 833–5. Hoffman, H. “Die Translationes et Miracula Sancti Mennatis des Leo Marsicanus.” Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 60 (2004): 441–81. Inventio S. Sabini. In Antiche cronache di Terra di Bari. Edited by G. Cuiffari and R. Lupoli Taeto. Bari: Centro studi nicolaiani, 1991. Inventio, translatio et miracula SS. Mauri, Pantaleonis, et Sergii. In AASS July 6. 359–71.

281

John the Deacon. Translatio S. Sosii. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 459–462. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. ———. Translatio S. Severini. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 452–9. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. ———. Gesta episcoporum neapolitanorum. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 426–36. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Johannes of San Vincenzo. Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni. Edited by Vincenzo Federici. 3 vols. Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 1925. Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni scritto intorno all’anno 1130. Edited by M. Oldoni and F. Marazzi and Translated by L. De Luca Roberti, A. Michele Iorio, and P. Vittorelli. Cerro al Volturno: Volturnia Edizioni, 2010. Johannes VIII. Registrum Johannis VIII papae. In MGH Epistolae Karolini Aevi. Vol. 5. Edited by E. Caspar, 388–9. Hannover: Hahn, 1974. Marra, A. Historia inventionis SS. Sabini et Eunomii epp., Italice scripta ab Aurelio Marra. In AASS February 3. 337–339. Martyrologium Usuardi monachi. In PL 123. Edited by. J. du Sollier., cols. 483–992 and 124 cols. 9–853. Le colonie cassinesi in Capitanata, vol. 1: Lesina. Edited by D. T. Leccisotti. Montecassino: Abbey of Montecassino, 1937. Le pergamene di Ascoli Satriano conservate nella biblioteca di Montevergine, Codice diplomatico pugliese 36. Edited by T. Colamarco. Bari: Società di storia patria per la Puglia, 2012. Le pergamene di Capua. Edited by J. Mazzoleni. Naples: L'Arte tip., 1957–60. Le più antiche carte del capitolo della cattedrale di Benevento (668–1200). Edited by A. Ciaralli, V. de Donato, V. Matera. Rome: Istituto storico italiano, 2002. Liber de apparitione S. Michaelis in monte Gargano. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 540–3. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Metricum heroicum de translatione corporis S. Mercurii. In MGH SRLI, Edited by G. Waitz, 578–80. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Pactum Sicardi. In MGH Leges. Vol. 4. Edited by F. Bluhme, 216–221. Hannover: Hahn, 1869. Passione e miracoli di S. Mercurio. Edited by T. Orlandi. Milan: Cisalpino–Goliardica, 1976. Paul the Deacon. Historia Langobardorum. In MGH SRLI. Edited by L. Bethmann and G. Waitz. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. “Paul the Deacon.” Carmen IX: Hymnus Pauli diaconi in translationem Beneventum corporis beati Mercurii martiris. In PL 95, col. 1600. “Peter the Deacon.” “Opus (Adelberti diac. in Montemarsico?) de translatione tentata saec. VIII et de miraculo saec. IX.” Edited by H. Moretus. Analecta Bollandiana 25 (1906): 243– 58. Peter the Deacon. Vita, translatio et Miracula S. Martini abbatis. In AASS October 10, 835–838.

282

Petrus Pipernus. De affectibus magicis libri sex ac De nuce maga Beneventana liber unicus. Naples, 1647. Raynerius of Naples. “Passio et translatio SS. Eutychis et Acutii auctore Raynerio (BHL 4137).” In L’intera istoria della famiglia, vita, miracoli, traslazione e culto del glorioso martire San Gennaro vescovo di Benevento, cittadino e principal protettore di Napoli. Edited by N. Falcone, 181–6. Naples: Felice Mosca, 1713. Regesto di S. Angelo in Formis. Edited by M. Inguanez. Montecassino: Abbey of Montecassino, 1925. Regesti dei documenti dell'Italia meridionale, 570–899. Edited by J.-M. Martin, E. Cuozzo, S. Gasparri, M. Villani. Rome: École française de Rome, 2002. Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio. Edited by J. D. Mansi. Florence: Expensis Antonii Zatta Veneti, 1759. Sancti Epiphanii episcopii interpretatio evangeliorum. Edited by A. Erickson. Lund: C. W. K. Gleerup, 1939. “Sermo de inventione Sancti Cataldi.” Edited by A. Hofmeister. In Münchener Museum für Philologie des Mittelalters unter der Renaissance 4 (1924): 101–14. Translatio Bartholomaei. In Anastasius Bibliothecarius sermo Theodori Studiae de sancto Bartholomeo apostolo. A Study. Edited by U. Westerbergh, 10–17. Stockholm: Almquist, 1963. Translatio SS. Januarii, Festi et Desiderii. In AASS September 4. 889–891. Translatio S. Heliani. In Memorie istoriche della pontificia cittá di Benevento. Edited by S. Borgia. Vol. 1. pp. 199–206. Benevento, 1764. Translatio S. Mercurii. In Acta passionis et translationis sanctorum martyrum Mercurii ac XII fratrum. Edited by V. Giovardi, 55–62. Rome: J.B. a Caporalibus, 1730. Ughelli, F., ed. Italia Sacra sive de episcopis Italiae. Second edition edited by N. Coleti. Venice: Arnaldo Forni, 1718. Vita S. Antonini. In AASS February 2, 794–96. Vita et translatio S. Athanasii Neapolitani Episcopi [BHL 735 e 737]. Edited by A. Vuolo. Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 2001. Vita et obitus S. Pardi Larinatum auct. Radoino. In AASS May 6. 371–373. Vita Barbati. In MGH SRLI. Edited by G. Waitz, 555–563. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Vita, inventio, et translatio S. Sabini. In AASS February 2. 324–9. Vita S. Vitalis. In AASS March 2. 27–55. Secondary Sources: Acconci A. and M. Piccirillo. “L’oratorio rupestre di San Martino in clivo montis marsici, Monte Massico (Caserta).” Arte Medievale 4.2 (2005): 9–30. Adenna G. and G. Picasso, eds. Longobardia e longobardi nell'Italia meridionale: le istituzioni ecclesiastiche : atti del 2 ̊ convegno internazionale di studi promosso dal Centro di

283

cultura dell'Università cattolica del Sacro Cuore, Benevento, 29–31 maggio 1992. Milan: Vita e pensiero, 1996. Aigrain, R. L’hagiographie: ses sources, ses méthodes, son histoire. Paris: René, 1953. Ambrasi, D. “Gli ‘Atti Vaticani’ ianuariani nelle ‘Lectiones’ del ‘Breviarium monasticum’ cavese e del ‘Proprio napoletano’ del 1525.” In Studi ianuariani in occasione del VI centenario della prima notizia storica della liquefazione del sangue S. Gennaro (1389– 1989). Edited by D. Ambrasi and U. Dovere, 293–309. Naples: Pontificia Facoltà dell’Italia Meridionale Sezione Tommaso d’Aquino, 1989. Anderson, J.M. “Historical Memory, Authority, and the Written Word: A Study of the Documentary and Literary Culture at the Early Medieval Court of Benevento, 700–900 CE.” PhD Dissertation, University of Toronto, 2017. Arnese, R. “Il codice miscellaneo n. 1 dell'Archivio Storico Diocesano di Napoli.” Atti della Accademia Pontaniana 18 (1968–69): 183–95. Assmann, J. “Kollektives Gedächtnis und kulturelle Identität.” In Kultur und Gedächtnis. Edited by J. Assmann and T. Holscher, 9–19. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1988. Baker, K. “Memory and Practice.” Representations 11 (1985): 134–64. Banti, O. ed. Amalfi, Genova, Pisa, Venezia: la cattedrale e la città nel medioevo. Ospedaletto: Pacini, 1993. Bartlett, R. The Making of Europe: Conquest, Colonization, and Cultural Change 950–1350. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993. ———. Why Can the Dead do Such Great Things? Saints and Worshippers from the Martyrs to the Reformation. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013. ———. and Angus MacKay, eds. Medieval Frontier Societies. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989. Basile, G. “Il restauro delle decorazioni murali della cripta dell’abate Epifanio e degli ambienti attigui dell’abbazia di S. Vincenzo al Volturno.” Arte Medievale 11.1–2 (1997): 171–197. Bates, D. Normandy before 1066. London: Longman, 1982. Battelli, G. “Il lezionario di S. Sofia di Benevento.” Miscellanea Giovanni Mercati 6. In Studi e Testi 126 (1946): 282–91. Belting, H. “Studien zum Beneventanischen Hof im 8. Jahrhundert.” Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine Studies 16 (1962): 141–193. Berto, L. “Oblivion, Memory, and Irony in Medieval Montecassino: Narrative Strategies of the ‘Chronicles of St. Benedict of Cassino.’” Viator 38.1 (2007): 45–61. ———.“‘Utilius est veritatem proferre’: A Difficult Memory to Manage, Narrating the Relationships between Bishops and Dukes in Early Medieval Naples.” Viator 39.2 (2008): 49–64. ———.“The Others and Their Stories: Byzantines, Franks, Lombards, and Saracens in the Ninth-Century Neapolitan Narrative Texts.” The Medieval History Journal 19.1 (2016): 34–56.

284

Bertolini, P. “La serie episcopale napoletana nei secoli VIII e IX. Ricerche sulle fonti per la storia dell'Italia meridionale nell'Alto Medioevo.” Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia 24 (1970): 373–389. Bertolini O. “I documenti trascritti nel ‘Liber praeceptorum beneventani Monasterii S. Sophiae.’” In Studi di storia napoletana in onore di Michelangelo Schipa, 11–27. Naples: Industrie tipografiche ed affini, 1926. Binon, S. Documents grec inédits relatifs à S. Mercure de Césarée. Louvain: Presses universitaires de Louvain, 1937. Bischoff, B. Die südostdeutschen Schreibschulen und Bibliotheken in der Karolingerzeit. Leipzig: O. Harrassowitz, 1940–80. Bloch, H. Monte Cassino in the Middle Ages. 3 vols. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1981. ———. The Atina Dossier of Peter the Deacon of Montecassino: A Hagiographical Romance of the Twelfth Century. Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1998. Bognetti, G. P. “La continuità delle sedi episcopali e l’azione di Roma nel regno longobardo.” Settimane 7.1 (1960): 415–54. Bottiglieri, C. “Literary Themes and Genres in Southern Italy during the Norman Age: the return of the saints.” In Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage: exchange of cultures in the “Norman” peripheries of Medieval Europe. Edited by Stefan Burkhardt and Thomas Foerster, 97–124. Surrey: Ashgate, 2013. Bouchard, C. Rewriting Saints and Ancestors: Memory and Forgetting in France, 500–1200. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015. Bouet, P. and F. Neveux, eds. Les saints dans la Normandie médiévale. Caen: Presses universitaires de Caen, 2000. Bouet, P. et. al., eds. Culte et pèlerinages à Saint Michel en Occident: les trois monts dédiés à l'archange. Rome: Ecole française de Rome, 2003. Boynton, S. “From the Lament of Rachel to the Lament of Mary: A Transformation in the history of Drama and Spirituality.” In Signs of Change: Transformations of Christian Traditions and their Representation in the Arts, 1000–2000. Edited by N. Holger Petersen, C. Clüver and N. Bell, 319–40. Boston: Brill, 2004. ———. Shaping a Monastic Identity: Liturgy and History at the Imperial Abbey of Farfa, 1000– 1125. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006. ———. “Music and the Cluniac Vision of History in Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS lat. 17716.” In Chant, Liturgy, and the Inheritance of Rome: Essays in Honour of Joseph Dyer. Henry Bradshaw Society, Subsidia 8. Edited by D. J. DiCenso and R. Maloy, 407–430. London: Boydell, 2017. Bozóky, E. “Le rôle du petit peuple dans les inventions de reliques (IXe–XIe siècle).” In Le petit peuple dans l'Occident médiéval: terminologies, perceptions, réalités: actes du Congrès international tenu à l'Université de Montréal, 18–23 octobre 1999. Edited by Pierre Boglioni, Robert Delort et Claude Gauvard, 549–558. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002.

285

———. La politique des reliques de Constantin à Saint Louis. Paris: Beauchesne, 2006. Braga, G. ed. Il Frammento Sabatini: Un documento per la storia di San Vincenzo al Volturno. Rome: Viella, 2003. Brand, B. Holy Treasure and Sacred Song: Relic Cults and their Liturgies in Medieval Tuscany. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Brentano, R. England and Italy in the Thirteenth Century. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1988. Brown, E.A.R. “Death and the Human Body in the Later Middle Ages: The Legislation of Boniface VIII on the Division of the Corpse.” Viator 12 (1981): 238–40. Brown, T.S. “The Political Use of the Past in Norman Sicily.” In The Perception of the Past in Twelfth–Century Europe. Edited by P. Magdalino, 449–488. London: Hambledon Press, 1992. Brown, V. “Catalogo dei più antichi manoscritti della biblioteca giovardiana di Veroli.” In Quaderni dell’Assessorato alla Cultura, sezione biblioteca e beni librari 1. Rome, 1996. ———. Terra Sancti Benedicti: Studies in the Palaeography, History and Liturgy of Medieval Southern Italy. Rome: Edizioni di storia e letteratura, 2005. Bynum, C. W. Fragmentation and Redemption: Essays on Gender and the Human Body in Medieval Religion. New York: Zone Books, 1991. ———. The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200–1336. New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. Campbell, J. “Some Twelfth-Century Views of the Anglo-Saxon Past.” Peritia 3 (1984): 131– 150. Campbell, S., B. Hall and D. Klausner, eds. Health, Disease and Healing in Medieval Culture. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1992. Campione, A. “La Vita di Sabino, vescovo di Canosa: un exemplum di agiografia longobarda.” In Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi in Puglia nell'alto medioevo: atti del congresso internazionale di studio sull'alto medioevo, Savelletri di Fasano (BR), 3–6 novembre 201, 365–403. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 2012. Capasso, B. “Pianta della citta di Napoli nel secolo XI.” Archivio storico per le province Napoletane 16 (1891): 832–62. 17 (1892): 422–84. 18 (1893): 679–726, 851–81, 105–25, 316–63. ——— ed,. Diplomata et Chartae Ducum Neapolis. In Monumenta ad Neapolitani Ducatus Historiam Pertinentia, vol. 2.2. Naples: F. Giannini, 1892. Carruthers, M. The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Caskey, J. Art and Patronage in the Medieval Mediterranean: Merchant Culture in the Region of Amalfi. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Caspar, E. “Echte und gefälschte Karolingerurkunden für Montecassino.” Neues Archiv 33 (1908): 55–73.

286

———. Petrus Diaconus und die Monte Cassineser Fälschungen. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des italienischen Geistesleben in Mittelalter. Berlin: Springer, 1909. Cassandro, G. “Il ducato bizantino.” In Storia di Napoli, volume secondo: l’alto medioevo. Vol 1, 3–307. Naples: Società editrice storia di Napoli, 1969. Chalandon, F. Histoire de la domination normande en Italie méridionale et en Sicile. New York: B. Franklin, 1960. Chibnall, M. The World of Orderic Vitalis. Oxford: Clarendon, 1984. Cilento, N. Le origini della signoria capuana nella Longobardia minore. Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1966. Clanchy, M. T. From Memory to Written Record: England, 1066–1307. Oxford: Clarendon, 1993. ———. England and its Rulers 1066–1307. Malden: Blackwell, 2006.

Cochelin, I. “When Monks were the Book: The Bible and Monasticism (6th-11th centuries).” In The Practice of the Bible in the Middle Ages: Production, Reception, and Performance in Western Christianity. Edited by S. Boynton and D. Reilly, 61–83. New York: Columbia University Press, 2011. Cohen, C. “Les éléments constitutifs de quelques planctus des Xe et XIe siècles.” Cahiers de civilisation médiévale 1 (1958): 83–6. Colomba, C. “Repertorio agiografico pugliese.” Hagiographica 16 (2009): 1–53. Connerton, P. How Societies Remember. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Corsi, P. La spedizione italiana di Costante II. Bologna: Patron editore, 1983. ———. “Lucera tra longobardi e bizantini (sec. VII-XI).” In Lucera tra tardoantico e altomedioevo: atti del 18° convegno sulla storia del cristianesimo in Puglia, Lucera, 26 maggio 1984. Edited by P. Soccio, 79–103. Lucera: Comune, 1984. ———. La traslazione di San Nicola: le fonti. Bari: Biblioteca di San Nicola, Centro studi nicolaiani, 1988. ———. Ai confini dell’impero. Bisanzio e la Puglia dal VI all’XI secolo. Bari: Biblios, 2003. Council, C. and R. Mock, eds. Performance, Embodiment, and Cultural Memory. Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009. Cowdrey, H.E.J. The Age of Abbot Desiderius: Montecassino, the papacy and the Normans in the eleventh and early twelfth centuries. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983. Cownie, E. Religious Patronage in Anglo–Norman England, 1066–1135. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1998. Craig, K. “Bringing Out the Saints: Journeys of Relics in Tenth to Twelfth Century Northern France and Flanders.” PhD Dissertation, UCLA, 2015. Cronnier, E. Les inventions de reliques dans l’Empire romain d’Orient (IVe-VIe). Turnhout: Belgium, 2015. Crook, J. The Architectural Setting of the Cult of Saints in the Early Christian West c. 300–1200. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. 287

Crosby, E. U. The King’s Bishops: The Politics of Patronage in England and Normandy, 1066– 1216. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. D’Ameli, G. Storia della città di Lucera. Lucera: Tip. Scepi, 1981. De Francesco, A. “Origini e sviluppo del feudalesimo nel Molise fino alla caduta della dominazione normanna.” Archivio storico per le province napoletane. 34 (1909): 432–60 and 640–71. Cuozzo E. and M. Iadanza, eds. Il ducato e il principato di Benevento: aspetti e problemi (secoli VI–XI), atti del convegno di studi, Museo del Sannio, 1 febbraio 2013. Benevento: La provincia sannita, 2013. D’Angelo, E. “Agiografia latina del Mezzogiorno continentale d’Italia (750–1000).” Hagiographies. Vol. 4. Edited by G. Philippart, 41–134. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. ———. “Produzione letteraria e manufatti librari dello scriptorium di San Vincenzo al Volturno. Nuove ipotesi.” ArNos 2 (2009): 149–184. Davenport, W. A. Medieval Narrative: An Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. Davis, R. H. C. The Normans and Their Myth. London: Thames and Hudson, 1997. Delehaye, H. Les Passions des martyrs et les genres littéraires. Studia hagiographica 13b. Brussels: Société des Bollandistes, 1966. Delogu, P. Mito di una città meridionale (Salerno, secoli VIII-XI). Naples: Liguori, 1977. De Stefano, A. “Il principe Arechi e le leggende agiografiche beneventane.” Rivista Storica del Sannio 2 (1916): 184–200. Detoraki, M. “Greek Passions of the Martyrs in Byzantium.” In The Ashgate Research Companion to Byzantine Hagiography.Vol. 2. Edited by S. Efthymiadis, 61–102. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014. Dolbeau, F. “Le légendaire de la cathédrale de Bovino.” Analecta Bollandiana 96 (1978): 125– 52. ———. “La vie latine de saint Euthyme: une tradition inédite de Jean, diacre napolitain.” MEFRM 94 (1982): 315–35. ———. “Le rôle des iaductions hagiographiques d’Italie du sud.” In Traduction et traducteurs au moyen âge, actes du colloque international du CNRS organisé à Paris, Institut de recherche et d'histoire des textes les 26–28 mai 1986. Edited by G. Contamine, 145–62. Paris: CNRS, 1989. Doležalová, A. ed. The Making of Memory in the Middle Ages. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Dormeier, H. Montecassino und die Laien im 11. und 12. Jahrhundert. Stuttgart: Hiersemann, 1979. Douglas, D. William the Conqueror: The Norman impact upon England. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1964. Drell, J. “Cultural Syncretism and Ethnic Identity: The Norman Conquest of Southern Italy and Sicily.” Journal of Medieval History 25 (1999): 187–202.

288

———. Kingship and Conquest: Family Strategies in the Principality of Salerno during the Norman Period 1077–1194. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002. Dubois, J. Les martyrologes du moyen âge latin. Turnhout: Brepols, 1978. Duchesne, L. “Les évêchés d’Italie et l’invasion lombarde.” Mélanges d'archéologie et d'histoire 23.1 (1903): 83–116. Dufourcq, A. Les légendes grecques et les légendes latines. Vol. 5 of Étude sur les Gesta martyrum romaines Bibliothèque des écoles françaises d'Athènes et de Rome 83. Paris: De Boccard, 1988. Dümmler, E. “Die handschriftliche Überlieferung der lateinischen Dichtungen aus der Zeit der Karolinger.” In Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft für ältere Deutsche Geschichtskunde, 89– 159. Hannover: Hahn, 1878. Dupré T. E. “La ‘grande rapina dei corpi santi’ dall’Italia al tempo di Ottono I.” In Festschrift Percy Ernst Schramm: zu seinem siebzigsten Geburtstag von Schülern und Freunden zugeeignet. Edited by P. Classen und P. Scheibert, 420–32. Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1964. Ebner, A. “Historisches aus Liturgischen Handschriften Italiens.” Historisches Jahrbuch 13 (1892): 748–770. Engels, O. “Alberich von Montecassino und sein Schüler Johannes von Gaeta.” Studien und Mitteilungen zur Geschichte des Benediktinerordens 66 (1955): 35–50. Étaix, R. Homéliaires patristiques latins: recueil d'études de manuscrits médiévaux. Paris: Institut d'études augustiniennes, 1994. Everett, N. “The Liber de Apparitione S. Michaelis in Monte Gargano and the Hagiography of Dispossession.” Analecta Bollandiana 120 (2002): 364–91. ———. Literacy in Lombard Italy, c. 568-774. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. ———. Patron Saints of Early Medieval Italy, AD c. 350–800. Toronto: Pontifical Institute for Medieval Studies, 2016. Fasola, U. M. “Il culto a san Gennaro, patrono di Napoli, nelle sue catacombe di Capodimonte.” Asprenas: Rivista di scienze teleologiche 22.1 (1975): 187–224. Fasoli, G. Le incursioni ungare in Europa nel secolo x. Florence: G. C. Sansoni, 1945. Fassler, M. The Virgin of Chartres: Making History through Liturgy and the Arts. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010. ———. and R. Baltzer, eds. The Divine Office in the Latin Middle Ages: Methodology and Source Studies, Regional Developments, Hagiography, Written in Honor of Professor Ruth Steiner. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Federici, V. “Ricerche per l’edizione del Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni, I: Il codice originale e gli apocrifi della cronaca.” Bullettino dell’Istituto storico italiano per il medio evo e Archivio muratoriano 53 (1939): 147–236. Feller, L. “The Northern Frontier of Norman Italy, 1060–1140.” In The Society of Norman Italy. Edited by G.A. Loud and A. Metcalfe, 47–71. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Fentress J. and C. Wickham. Social Memory. New York: American Council of Learned Societies, 2012. 289

Finucane, R.C. “Sacred Corpse, Profane Carrion: social ideals and death rituals in the later Middle Ages.” In Mirrors of Mortality: Studies in the Social History of Death, Edited by J. Whaley, 40–60. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1982. Foreville, R. “Cantorbéry et la canonisation des saints au XII siècle.” In Tradition and Change: essays in honor of Marjorie Chibnall presented to her by her friends on the occasion of her seventieth birthday. Edited by D. Greenaway, C. Holdsworth, and J. E. Sayers, 63– 75. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1985. Fouracre, P. “The Work of Audoenus of Rouen and Eligius of Noyon in Extending Episcopal Influence from Town to Country in Seventh–Century Neustria.” Studies in Church History 16 (1979): 77–91. Fournée, J. “La spiritualité en Normandie au temps de Guillaume le Conquérant.” Le Pays Bas– normand 2 (1982): 1–120. France, J. “The Occasion of the Coming of the Normans to Southern Italy.” Journal of Medieval History 17 (1991): 185–205. Freeman, C. Holy Bones Holy Dust: How Relics Shaped the History of Medieval Europe. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2011. Fuiano, M. Spiritualità e cultura a Napoli nell'alto medioevo. Naples: Liguori, 1986. Galante, G. “Memorie dell’antico cenobio lucullano di S. Severino abate in Napoli.” In Napoli lette il 22 Febbraio 1869 nella Pontificia Accademia Tiberina, 1–42. Naples: Tipografia dei Fratelli Testa, 1869. Galasso, E. “Caratteri paleografici e diplomatici dell’atto privato a Capua e a Benevento prima del secolo XI.” In Il contributo dell'arcidiocesi di Capua alla vita religiosa e culturale del Meridione: Atti del Convegno Nazionale di Studi Storici promosso dalla Societa di Storia Patria di Terra di Lavoro, 26–31 ottobre 1966, 291–317. Rome: De Luce, 1967. Galdi, A. “Il santo e la città: il culto di s. Matteo a Salerno tra X e XVI secolo.” Rassegna storica salernitana, 13.1 (1996): 21–92. ———. “La diffusione del culto del santo patrono: l’esempio di S. Matteo di Salerno.” In Pellegrinaggi e itinerari dei santi nel mezzogiorno medievale. Edited by G. Vitolo, 181– 191. Naples: Liguori, 1999. ———.“I santi e la città: agiografie e dedicazioni.” In Salerno nel XII secolo. Istituzioni, società, cultura, atti del convegno internazionale. Edited by P. Delogu and P. Peduto, 170–183. Salerno: s.n., 2004. ———. Santi, territori, potere e uomini nella Campania medievale (sec. XI–XII). Salerno, 2004. ———. “Quam si urbem illam suae subdiderit: la traslazione delle reliquie di San Gennaro a Benevento tra istanze politiche, agiografia e devozione.” Campania sacra 37 (2006): 223–242. ———.“Traslazioni di reliquie in Campania tra poteri e religioso (secoli IX-XII).” In Dal lago di Tiberiade al mare di Amalfi: il viaggio apostolico di Andrea, il primo chiamato: testimonianze cronache e prospettive di ecumenismo nell’VIII centenario della Traslazione delle reliquie del corpo (1208–2008). Edited by M. Talalay, 79–89. Amalfi: Centro di cultura e storia amalfitana, 2008.

290

———. “Troia, Montecassino e i Normanni: la traslazione di s. Eleuterio tra identità cittadina e dinamiche di potere.” Vetera Christianorum 47 (2010): 63–83. ———. Benedetto. Bologna: Società editrice il Mulino, 2016. ———.“Culti e agiografie d’età normanna in Italia meridionale.” In People, Texts and Artefacts: Cultural Transmission in the Medieval Norman Worlds. Edited by D. Bates, E. D’Angelo, and E. van Houts, 89–104. London: Institute of Historical Research, 2018. Galloway, A. Medieval Literature and Culture. London: Continuum, 2006. Gari, B. “The Politics of the Sacred in medieval Barcelona: From Inventio Sanctae Eulaliae to the Mercedarian legends.” Imago Temporis 4 (2010): 201–219. Garms-Cornides, E. “Die langobardische Fürstentitel (774–1077).” In Intitulatio II: Lateinische Herrscher- und Fürstentitel im neunten und zehnten Jahrhundert. Edited by K. Brunner, A. Scharer, and H. Wolfram, 341–52. Wien: Hermann Böhlau, 1975. Gasparri, S., ed. 774: ipotesi su una transizione: atti del Seminario di Poggibonsi, 16–18 febbraio 2006. Turnhout: Brepols, 2008. Gattola, E. Ad Historiam Abbatiae Cassinensis Accessiones. Venice: Coleti, 1734.

Gazeau, V. Normannia monastica vol. 1: princes normands et abbés bénédictins (Xe–XIIe siècle). Caen: Publications du CRAHM, 2007. ———.“From Bec to Canterbury: Between Cloister and World, the Legacy of Anselm, a personne d'autorité.” In The 2009 Anselm conference at Canterbury, Cantorbéry, 22–25 avril 2009, Saint and His Legacy. Edited by G. E. M. Gasper and I. Logan, 60–72. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2012. ———.“Orderic Vitalis and the Cult of Saints.” In Orderic Vitalis: Life, Work, and Interpretations. Edited by C. Rozier, D. Roach, G.E.M. Gasper, and E.Van Houts, 172– 88. Woodbridge: Boydell, 2016. Geary, P. Furta Sacra: Thefts of Relics in the Central Middle Ages. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978. ———. Phantoms of Remembrance: Memory and Oblivion at the End of the First Millennium. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994. ———. Living with the Dead in the Middle Ages. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994. Glass, D. Romanesque sculpture in Campania: Patrons, Programs, and Style. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1991. Godron, G. “À propos d’un récent ouvrage concernant saint Mercure.” In Institut français d’archéologie orientale, Livre du Centenaire, 213–23. Cairo: IFAO, 1981. Goffart, W. Narrators of Barbarian History (A.D. 550–800): Jordanes, Gregory of Tours, Bede, and Paul the Deacon. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988. Granier, T. “Napolitains et Lombards aux VIIIe-XIe siècles: de la guerre des peuples à la guerre des saints en Italie du Sud,” Mélanges de l'Ecole française de Rome Moyen–Âge 108.2 (1996): 403–50. ———.“Trasferimenti di reliquie nel secolo IX.” Hagiographica 6 (2006): 33–71.

291

———. “Conflitti, compromessi e trasferimenti di reliquie nel mezzogiorno latino del secolo IX.” Hagiographica 13 (2006): 33–72. ———.“La fonction normative des textes hagiographiques dans la Chronique de Saint-Vincent du Vulturne (vers 1120).” In Normes et Hagiographie dans l’Occident latin (VIe-XVIe siècle). Actes du Colloque international de Lyon, 4–6 octobre 2010. Hagiologia 9. Edited by M. Isaïa and T. Granier, 151–65. Turnhout: Brepols, 2014. Gransden, A. Historical Writing in England c. 550 to c. 1307. Vol 1. Historical Writing in England. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1974. Gray, N. “The Paleography of Latin Inscriptions in the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Centuries in Italy.” Papers of the British School at Rome 16 (1948): 123–39. Grégoire, R. Homéliaires liturgiques médiévaux: analyse de manuscrit. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 1980. Gyug, R. “Du rite bénéventain à l’usage de Bénévent.” In La cathédrale de Bénévent. Edited by T. Kelly, 67–97. Ghent: Ludion/Flammarion, 1999. ———. “Reading for Ritual: Liturgy and Ritual in Southern Italian Chronicles.” In From Learning to Love: Schools, Law, and Pastoral Care in the Middle Ages. Essays in Honour of Joseph W. Goering. Edited by T. Sharp with I. Cochelin, G. Dinkova-Bruun, A. Firey, and G. Silano, 555–70. Toronto: PIMS, 2017. Halbwachs, M. La topographie légendaire des évangiles en terre sainte. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1941. ———. Les cadres sociaux de la mémoire. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1952. ———. Le mémoire collective. Paris: A. Michel, 1997. Hankeln, R., ed. Political Plainchant?: Music, Text, and Historical Context of Medieval Saints’ Offices. Ottawa: Institute of Mediaeval Music, 2009. Harris, J. “The Bible and the Meaning of History in the Middle Ages.” In The Practice of the Bible in the Middle Ages. Edited by S. Boynton and D. J. Reilly, 84–104. New York: Columbia University Press, 2011. Harrison, A. “Community Among the Saintly Dead: Bernard of Clairvaux’s Sermons for the Feast of All Saints.” In Last Things: Death and the Apocalypse in the Middle Ages. Edited by C. Bynum and P. Freedman, 191–204. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000. Harrison, D. “The Duke and the Archangel: A Hypothetical Model of Early State Integration in Southern Italy through the Cult of Saints.” Collegium Medievale 1 (1993): 5–33. Haskins, C.H. “England and Sicily in the Twelfth Century.” English Historical Review 26 (1911): 433–47, 641–65. Haug A. and G. Attinger. The Nidaros Office of the Holy Blood: Liturgical Music in Medieval Norway. Trondheim: Tapir Academic Press, 2004. Hayward, P. A. “Sanctity and Lordship in Twelfth–Century England: Saint Albans, Durham and the cult of Saint Oswin, King and Martyr.” Viator 30 (1999): 107–144.

292

———. “The Miracula inventionis Beate Mylburge Virginis attributed to the “Lord Ato, Cardinal Bishop of Ostia”.” English Historical Review 114 (1999): 543–573. ———. “Translation Narratives in post–Conquest Hagiography and English Resistance to Norman Conquest.” Anglo–Norman Studies 21 (1999): 67–93. ———. “St. Wilfrid of Ripon and the Northern Church in Anglo–Norman Historiography.” Northern History 49 (2012): 12–35. Head, T. Hagiography and the Cult of Saints: the diocese of Orleans, 800–1200. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. ———. “Discontinuity and Discovery in the Cult of Saints: Apulia from Late Antiquity to the .” Hagiographica 6 (1999): 171–211. Heinzelmann, M. Translationsberichte und Andere Quellen des Reliquienkultes. Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental. Vol. 3. Edited by L. Genicot. Turnhout: Brepols, 1979. Helvétius, A. “Les inventions de reliques en Gaule du Nord (IXe–XIIIe siècle).” In Les reliques: objets, cultes, symboles: actes du colloque international de l’Université du Littoral-Côte d’Opale (Boulogne-sur-Mer), 4–6 septembre 1997. Edited by E. Bozóky and A. Helvétius, 292–311. Turnhout: Brepols, 1999. Herrmann-Mascard, N. Les reliques des saints: formation coutumière d’un droit, Collection d’histoire institutionnelle et sociale. Paris: Klincksieck, 1975. Heslop, T.A. “The Canterbury Calendars and the Norman Conquest.” In Canterbury and the Norman Conquest: Churches, Saints, and Scholars 1066–1109. Edited by R. Eales and R. Sharpe, 53–86. London: Hambledon Press, 1995. Hilken, C. Memory and Community in Medieval Southern Italy: The History, Chapter Book, and Necrology of Santa Maria del Gualdo Mazzocca. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 2008. Hodges, R. Light in the Dark Ages: the rise and fall of San Vincenzo al Volturno. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997. ———. and J.Mitchell, eds. San Vincenzo al Volturno: The Archaeology, Art and Territory of an Early Medieval Monastery. Oxford: B.A.R, 1985. Hoffmann, H. “Das Chronicon Vulturnense und die Chronik von Montecassino.” Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 22 (1966): 176–96. Hollister, C. W. “Anglo–Norman Political Culture and the Twelfth–Century Renaissance.” In Anglo–Norman Political Culture and the Twelfth–Century Renaissance: Proceedings of the Borchard Conference on Anglo–Norman history, 1995. Edited by C. Warren Hollister, 1–16. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1997. Houben, H. Il saccheggio del Monastero di S. Modesto in Benevento (Verso l’860): Un ignoto episodio delle incursioni arabe nel mediterraneo. Galatina: Congedo Editore, 1983. ———. Medioevo monastico meridionale. Naples: Liguori, 1987. ———. “Laienbergräbnisse auf dem Klosterfriedhof: Unedierte Mirakelberichte aus der Chronik von Casauria.” Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 76 (1996): 64–76.

293

Hughes, A. Medieval Manuscripts for Mass and Office: A Guide to their Organization and Terminology. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982. Hurlock, K. and Oldfield, eds. Crusading and Pilgrimage in the Norman World. Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2015. Iadanza, M. ed., Antiquitatis Flosculi: studi offerta a S.E. Mon.s Andrea Mugione per il XXV di episcopato e il di presbiterato. Napoli: Verbum Ferens, 2014. Jamison, E. “I conti di Molise e di Marsia nei secoli XII e XIII.” In Convegno storico abruzzese- molisano. 25–29 marzo 1931, Atti e memorie. Casalbordino: Nicola de Arcangelis, 1932. Jastrzębowska, E. Cities of the Apocalypse. Studia Archaeologica 217. Rome: L’erma di Bretschneider, 2017. Jauss, H. Toward an Aesthetic of Reception. Translated by T. Bahti. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1982. Jones, C.W. Saint Nicholas of Myra, Bari, and Manhattan: Biography of a Legend. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978. Joranson, E. “The Inception of the Career of the Normans in Italy: Legend and History.” Speculum 23 (1948): 353–96. Kahn Herrick, S. Imagining the Sacred Past: Hagiography and Power in Early Normandy. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007. Kamp, N. “The Bishops of Southern Italy in the Norman and Staufen Period.” In The Society of Norman Italy.Edited by G.A. Loud and A. Metcalfe. Boston: Brill, 2002. Kelly, T. F. The Beneventan Chant. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Keskiaho, J. “Dreams and the Discoveries of Relics in the Early Middle Ages: Observations on Narrative Models and the Effects of Authorial Context in the Revelatio Sancti Stephani.” In Relics, Identity, and Memory in Medieval Europe. Edited by M. Räsänen, G. Hartmann, E. J. Richards. Turnout: Brepols, 2016. 31–52 Klewitz, H. W. “Zur Geschichte der Bistumsorganisation Kampaniens und Apuliens im 10. Und 11. Jahrhundert.”Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 24 (1923–1933): 44–53 Knowles, D. The Monastic Order in England: A History of its Development from the Times of St. Dunstan to the Fourth Lateran Council 940–1216. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963. Koopmans, R. Wonderful to Relate: Miracle Stories and Miracle Collecting in High Medieval England. Pennsylvania: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011. Kreutz, B. Before the Normans: Southern Italy in the Ninth and Tenth Centuries. Philadelphia University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011. Krautheimer, R. “Introduction to an ‘Iconography of medieval Architecture.’” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 5 (1942): 1–33. Landes, R.A.. Relics, the Apocalypse, and the Deceits of History: Ademar of Chabannes, 989– 1034. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995.

294

Lankila, T. “The Saracen Raid of Rome in 846: An Example of Maritime Ghazwa.” In Traveling through Time: Essays in Honor of Kaj Ӧhrnberg. Studia Orientalia 114. Edited by S. Akar, J. Hämeen-Anttila, and I. Nokso-Koivisto, 93–120. Helsinki: STOR, 2013. Lanzoni, F. Le diocesi d'Italia dalle origini al principio del secolo VII (An. 604): studio critico. Faenza: Stabilimento Grafico F. Lega, 1927. Lapidge, M. The Cult of Saint Swithun. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Leanza, S. “Una versione greca inedita dell’Apparitio S. Michaelis in monte Gargano.” Vetera Christianorum 22 (1985): 291–316. Le Patourel, J. The Norman Empire. Oxford: Clarendon, 1976. Lepore, C. “La biblioteca capitolare di Benevento. Regesti delle pergamene (secoli VII-XIII).” Rivista storica del Sannio 3a serie 10.1 (2003): 201–282; 10.2 (2003): 177–240; 11.1 (2004): 219–272; 12.1 (2005): 209–241. Leclercq, H. “Reliques et reliquaires.” Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie 14.2 (1948): cols. 2294–358. ———. “Translations.” Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie 15.2 (1953): cols 2695–99. Lehmann–Brockhaus, O. Lateinische Schriftquellen zur Kunst in England, Wales, und Schottland vom Jahre 901 bis zum Jahre 1307. 5 vols. Munich: Prestel,1955–60. ———. Schriftquellen zur Kunstgeschichte des 11. Und 12 Jahrhunderts für Deutschland, Lothringen und Italien. 2 vols. New York: B. Franklin, 1971. Lifshitz, F. “The Privilege of St. Romanus: provincial independence and hagiographical legends at Rouen.” Analecta Bollandiana 104 (1989): 161–170. ———. “Beyond Positivism and Genre: ‘hagiographical’ texts as historical narrative.” Viator 25 (1994): 95–113. ———. The Norman Conquest of Pious Neustria: historiographic discourse and saintly relics, 684–1090. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1995. ———. “The Politics of Historiography: the memory of bishops in eleventh–century Rouen.” History and Memory 10 (1998): 118–37. Limone, O. “Italia meridionale (950–1220).” In Hagiographies II. Corpus Christianorum. Edited by G. Philippart, 11–60. Turnhout: Brepols, 1996. Little, L. K. Benedictine Maledictions: Liturgical Cursing in Romanesque France. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993. Lohrmann, D. “Zwei Passionare des 12 Jahrhunderts aus der Kapitelbibliothek von Benevent.” Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 46 (1966): 463– 75. Lombardi, A. “Lesina e sua laguna nell’XI secolo.” In Capitanata e l'Italia meridionale nel secolo XI da Bisanzio ai Normanni: atti delle II Giornate medievali di Capitanata: Apricena, 16–17 aprile 2005. Edited by P. Favia and G. De Venuto, 169–78. Bari: Edipuglia, 2011.

295

Loud, G.A. “The Gens Normannorum–Myth or Reality?” Anglo–Norman Studies 4 (1982): 104– 116. ———.“The Abbots of St. Sofia, Benevento in the Eleventh Century.” Quellen und Forschungen aus Italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 71 (1991): 1–13. ———.“The Medieval Records of the Monastery of St Sofia, Benevento.” Archives 19 (1991): 364–373. ———. “Continuity and Change in Norman Italy: The Campania during the eleventh and twelfth centuries.” Journal of Medieval History 22.4 (1996): 313–43. ———. “A Lombard abbey in a Norman world: St Sophia. Benevento, 1050–1200.” Anglo- Norman Studies, xix, Proceedings of the Battle Conference 1996. Edited in C. Harper- Bill, 273–306. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1997. Reprinted in Montecassino and Benevento in the Middle Ages. Essays in South Italian Church History. Variorum Collected Studies Series. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2000. ———.The Age of Robert Guiscard: Southern Italy and the Norman Conquest. Harlow: Pearson, 2000. ———. “The Norman Counts of Caiazzo and the Abbey of Montecassino.” In Montecassino and Benevento in the Middle Ages: studies in south Italian church history. Edited by G. A. Loud, 199–217. Variorum Collected Studies Series. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2000. ———. and A.J. Metcalfe, eds. The Society of Norman Italy. Boston: Brill, 2002 ———. “The and the Kingdom of England, 1066–1266.” History 88 (2003): 540–67. ———. “Monastic miracles in southern Italy, c. 1040–1140.” Studies in Church History 41 (2005): 109–22. ———. The Latin Church in Norman Italy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. ———. “Norman Traditions in Southern Italy.” In Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage: Exchange of Cultures in the ‘Norman” Peripheries of Medieval Europe. Edited by Stefan Burkhardt and Thomas Foerster, 35–56. Surrey: Ashgate, 2013. Luongo, G. “Alla ricerca del sacro. Le traslazioni dei santi in epoca altomedievale.” In Il ritorno di Paolino. Edited by A. Ruggiero, 17–39. Naples and Rome: LER, 1990. MacGregor, J. “Negotiating Knightly Piety: The Cult of the Warrior-Saints in the West, ca. 1070–ca. 1200.” Church History 73.2 (2004): 317–45. Magliano, A. Larino: considerazioni storiche sulla città di Larino. Campobasso: Giovanni e Nicola Colitti, 1985. Magnani, E. “Female House Ascetics from the Fourth to the Twelfth Centuries.” In Cambridge History of Medieval Monasticism in the Latin West, ed. A. Beach and I. Cochelin, Cambridge New History. New York: Cambridge University Press, to appear. Maio, L. “Davide Beneventano: un vescovo della Longobardia meridionale (782–796).” Samnium 56 (1983): 1–50. Mallardo, D. “Giovanni Diacono napolitano I: la vita.” Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia 2.3 (1948): 317–337. 296

Mallet J. and A. Thibaut. Les manuscrits en écriture bénéventaine de la Bibliothèque capitulaire de Bénévent. 3 vols. Turnhout: Brepols, 1984–1997. Marazzi, F. San Vincenzo al Volturno. L'abbazia e il suo territorium fra VIII e XII secolo. Montecassino: Pubblicazioni Cassinesi, 2012. ———. Felix Terra: Capua e la terra di lavoro in età longobarda. Cerro al Volturno: Volturnia edizioni, 2017. ———., ed. San Vincenzo al Volturno: cultura, istituzioni, economia. Miscellanea Vulturnense 3. Monte Cassino: Abbazia di Montecassino, 1996. Mariani, M. and R. Bianco, eds. Capitanata medievale. Foggia: C. Grenzi, 1998. Mariella, A. “Codici e incunaboli di autori cristiani antichi nelle biblioteche daune.” Vetera Christiana 8 (1971): 357–66. Martin, J. M. “A propos de la Vita de Barbatus, évêque de Bénévent.” MEFRM 86.1 (1974): 137–164. ———. “Les modèles paléochrétiens dan l’hagiographie apulienne.” Bulletin de la Société nationale des antiquaires de France (1990): 67–86. ———. La Pouille du VIe au XIIe siècle. Rome: École française de Rome, 1993. ———. Italies Normandes XIe-XIIe siècles. Paris: Hachette, 1994. ———.“Les Normands et le culte de Saint–Michel en Italie du sud.” In Culte et pèlerinages. Edited by P. Bouët et al, 341–64. Rome: École française de Rome, 2003. Martin, M. “The Italian Homiliary: An Example pro omnibus bonis operibus Produced According to the ‘New’ Carolingian Homiletic Genre and Reform Measures.” Sacris erudiri 49 (2010): 261–338. Maxwell, R., ed. Representing History, 900–1300: Art, Music, History. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2010. McGuire, B. The Difficult Saint: Bernard of Clairvaux and his Tradition. Kalamazoo: The Liturgical Press, 1991. McKitterick, R. Perceptions of the Past in the Early Middle Ages. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 2006. McLaughlin, M. Consorting with Saints: Prayers for the Dead in Early Medieval France. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994. Meinking G. L. “Saints’ Encounters with Secular Rulers in the Welsh Saints’ Lives in the Vespasian Legendary: Miracles Between Belief and Religious Politics.” In Spiritual Temporalities in Late Medieval Europe. Edited by Michael Foster, 57–75. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars, 2010. Metcalfe, A. Muslims of Medieval Italy. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009. Meyvaert, P. “The Autographs of Peter the Deacon.” Bulletin of the John Rylands Library 38.1 (1955): 157–66. Millar, E. G. The Library of A. Chester Beatty: A Descriptive Catalogue of the Western Manuscripts by George Millar. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1927.

297

Mitchell, J. and Hodges. “Portraits, the cult of relics and the affirmation of hierarchy at an early medieval monastery: San Vincenzo al Volturno.” Antiquity 70 (1996): 20–30. Moore, M. “The Attack on Pope Formosus: Papal history in an Age of Resentment (875–897).” In Ecclesia et violentia: Violence against the Church and Violence within the Church in the Middle Ages. Edited by R. Kotecki and J. Maciejewski, 184–208. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014. Mor, C. “La difesa militare della capitanata ed i confini della regione al principio del secolo XI,.” Papers of the British School at Rome 24 (1956): 29–36. Moretus, U. “ De magno legendario Bodecensi.” Analecta Bollandiana 27 (1908): 257–351. Morin, G. “Le commentaire inédit de l'évêque latin Epiphanius sur les Evangiles.” Revue Bénédictine 24 (1907): 336–59. Musca, G. L’emirato di Bari, 847–871. Bari: Dedalo litostampa, 1964. Nora, P. Les lieux de la mémoire. Paris: Gallimard, 1984. Norwich, J. J. The Normans in the South, 1016–1130. London: Longmans, 1967. Oldfield, P. “St Nicholas the Pilgrim and the City of Trani between Greeks and Normans, c. 1090–1140.” Anglo–Norman Studies 30: Proceedings of the Battle Conference 2007. Edited by C.P. Lewis, 168–18. Woodbridge, Boydell, 2008. ———. City and Community in Norman Italy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. ———. “The Medieval Cult of St Agatha of Catania and the Consolidation of Christian Sicily.” Journal of Ecclesiastical History 62:3 (2011): 439–456. ———. “Urban Communities and the Normans in Southern Italy.” In Norman Expansion: Connections, Continuities, and Contrasts. Edited by. K. J. Stringer and A. Jotischky, 187–206. Surrey: Ashgate, 2013. ———. Sanctity and Pilgrimage in Medieval Southern Italy 1000–1200. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Oldoni, M. “Agiografia longobardo secolo ix e x: la leggenda di Trofimena.” Studia Monastica 12 (1971): 583–636. Onofrio, M. “Comparaisons entre quelques édifices de style normand de l’Italie méridionale et du royaume de France aux XIe et XIIe siècles.” In Les Normands en Méditerranée dans le sillage des Tancrède. Edited by Pierre Bouet and Françoise Neveux, 179–203. Caen: Presses Universitaires de Caen, 1992. Otranto, G. Italia meridionale e Puglia paleocristiane: saggi storici. Bari: Edipuglia, 1991. ———. “Pardo vescovo di Salpi, non di Arpi.” Vetera Christianorum 19 (1982): 159–60. ———. “Per una metodologia della ricerca storico-agiografica: il santuario micaelico del Gargano tra Bizantini e Longobardi.” Vetera Christianorum 25 (1988): 381–405. Otranto and C. Carletti, eds.. Il Santuario di S. Michele Arcangelo sul Gargano: dalle origini al X secolo. Bari: Edipuglia, 1990. Otter, M. “Inventiones: Spatial Metaphors and Narrative Self-Awareness in Medieval Historical Writing.” Ph.D. diss. Columbia University, 1991.

298

———. Inventiones: Fiction and Referentiality in Twelfth-Century English Historical Writing. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1996. Palmieri, S. “Un esempio di mobilita etnica altomedievale: i saraceni in Campania.” In Montecassino dalla prima alla seconda distruzione: momenti e aspetti di storia cassinese (secc. VI-IX): atti del II Convegno di studi sul Medioevo meridionale (Cassino- Montecassino, 27–31 maggio 1984). Edited by F. Avagliano, 597–630. Miscellanea Cassinese 55. Cassino: Montecassino, 1987. Panarelli, F. “Creators of Identities in the Norman Kingdom of Sicily.” In Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage: exchange of cultures in the Norman peripheries of medieval Europe. Edited by Stefan Burkhardt and Thomas Foerster, 189–202. Surrey: Ashgate, 2013. F “Potere e monachesimo ceti dirigenti e mondo monastico in Puglia nell’alto medioevo,” in Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi. Paoli, E. “Tradizioni agiografiche dei Ducati di Spoleto e Benevento.” In I Longobardi dei ducato di Spoleto e Benevento: atti del XVI Congresso internazionale di studi sull’alto Medioevo: Spoleto, 20–23 ottobre 2002, Benevento 24–27 ottobre 2002, 298–33. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’alto Medioevo, 2003. ———.“Tradizioni agiografiche pugliesi tra Oriente e Occidente: il casi di San Barsanofio.” In Bizantini, longobardi, e arabi in Puglia nell'alto medioevo: atti del congresso internazionale di studio sull'alto medioevo, Savelletri di Fasano (BR), 3–6 novembre 2011, 406–31. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 2012. Partner, N. “Making Up Lost Time: Writing on the Writing of History.” Speculum 61(1986): 90– 117. Pellegrini, M. Vescovo e città: una relazione nel Medioevo italiano (secoli II-XIV). Milan: B. Mondadori, 2009. Perez M. “La invenció del culte a Santa Tecla en la Tarragona d’època medieval.” Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona 50 (2006): 21–58. Pfaff, R. The Liturgy in Medieval England: A History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. Pohl, B. “Keeping it in the Family: Re–reading Anglo–Norman Historiography in the Face of Cultural Memory, Tradition and Heritage.” In Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage. Edited by S. Burkhardt and T. Forester, 219–51. Surrey: Ashgate, 2015. Pohl, W. “History in Fragments: Montecassino’s Politics of Memory.” Early Medieval Europe 10 (2001): 343–74. Poncelet, A. Catalogus codicum hagiographicorum latinorum bibliothecae Vaticanae. Brussels: Socios Bollandianos, 1910. ———. “Catalogus codicum hagiographicorum latinorum Bibliothecae Universitatis Wirziburgensis.” Analecta Bollandiana 32 (1913): 408–38. Potts, C. “Atque unum ex diversis gentibus populum effectum: historical tradition and the Norman identity.” Anglo–Norman Studies 18 (1996): 139–152.

299

———. “When the Saints Go Marching: religious connections and the political culture of Normandy.” In Anglo–Norman Political Culture and the Twelfth–Century Renaissance: proceedings of the Borchard Conference on Anglo–Norman history, 1995. Edited by C. Warren Hollister, 17–31. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1997. Pratesi, A. “Note di diplomatica beneventana. Parte II: Vescovi suffraganei (secoli X-XIII).” Bullettino dell’Archivio paleografico italiano 1 (1955): 425–99. ———.“‘Chartae rescriptae’ del secolo XI provenienti di Ariano Irpino.” Bullettino dell’istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo 68 (1956): 165–202. ———. Carte latine di abbazie calabresi provenienti dall’Archivio Aldobrandini. Vatican City: Biblioteca apostolica vaticana, 1958. ———. “Il Chronicon Vulturnense del monaco Giovanni.” in Una grande abbazia altomedievale nel Molise, San Vincenzo al Volturno: atti del I Convegno di studi sul Medioevo meridionale, Venafro, S. Vincenzo al Volturno, 19–22 maggio 1982. Edited by F. Avagliano, 221–31. Montecassino: Pubblicazioni Cassinesi, 1985. ———. Tra carte e notai: saggi di diplomatica dal 1951 al 1991. Rome: La Società alla Biblioteca Vallicelliana, 1992. Poupardin, R. Les institutions politiques et administratives des principautes lombardes. Paris: H. Champion, 1907. Quentin, H. Les martyrologes historiques du moyen âge: étude sur la formation du martyrologe romain. Aalen: Scientia-Verl., 1969. Ramseyer, V. The Transformation of a Religious Landscape: Medieval South Italy, 850–1150. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006. Re, M. “Italo–Greek Hagiography.” In Ashgate Research Companion to Byzantine Hagiography. Vol.1. Periods and Places. Edited by S. Efthymiadis, 227–58. Farnham: Ashgate, 2011. Remensnyder, A. Remembering Kings Past: Monastic Foundation Legends in Medieval Southern France. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995. Reynolds, R. E. “Death and Burial, in Europe.” Dictionary of the Middle Ages. Edited by J. Strayer, 118–22. Vol. 4. New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1982–89. Ridyard, S. “Condigna veneratio: Post-Conquest Attitudes to the Saints of the Anglo–Saxons.” Anglo–Norman Studies 9 (1987): 179–206. ———. The Royal Saints of Anglo–Saxon England: a study of West Saxon and East Anglian cults. Cambridge Studies in Medieval Life and Thought, Fourth Series, 9. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988. Robertini, L. “Il ‘Sapientia’ di Rosvita e le fonti agiografiche.” Studi medievali, 3rd ser. 30 (1989): 629–59. Rogers, N. “The Waltham Abbey relic list.” In England in the Eleventh–Century: Proceedings of the 1990 Harlaxton Symposium. Edited by C. Hicks, 157–181. Stamford: Paul Watkins, 1992. Rollo, D Historical Fabrication, Ethnic Fable and French Romance in Twelfth–Century England. Lexington: French Forum,1998.

300

Roma, G. I Longobardi del Sud. Rome: G. Bretschneider, 2010. Rose, E. M. The Murder of William of Norwich: The Origins of the Blood Libel in Medieval Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015. Rosenwein, B. To Be the Neighbor of Saint Peter: The Social Meaning of Cluny’s Property, 909–1049. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989. Rubenstein, J. “Liturgy Against History: The Competing Visions of Lanfranc and Eadmer of Canterbury.” Speculum 74 (1999): 279–309. Safran, L. “Byzantine Art in Post-Byzantine South Italy?: Notes on a Fuzzy Concept.” Common Knowledge 18.3 (2012): 487–504. ———.The Medieval Salento: Art and Identity in southern Italy. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014. Salmon, P. Les manuscrits liturgiques latins de la Bibliothèque Vaticane. Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1971. Schoenig, S. Bonds of Wool: The Pallium and Papal Power in the Middle Ages. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2016. Schoolman, E. Rediscovering Sainthood in Italy: Hagiography and the Late Antique Past in Medieval Ravenna. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016. Schwarz, U. Amalfi im frühen Mittelalter: 9.–11 Jahrhundert: Untersuchungen zur Amalfitaner Überlieferung. Tübingen: M. Niemeyer, 1978. Searle, E. Predatory Kinship and the Creation of Norman Power, 840–1066. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1988, Sennis, A. “Tradizione monastica e racconto delle origini in Italia centrale (secoli XI-XII).” Mélanges de l'école française de Rome, Moyen Ȃge 115.1 (1993): 181–211. ———. “The Power of Time: Looking at the Past in Medieval Monasteries.” In Self- Representation of Medieval Religious Communities: The British Isles in Context. Edited by A. Müller and K. Stöber, 307–25. Berlin: Lit, 2009. ———.“Dreams, Visions and Political Competition in the Monasteries of Medieval Central Italy.” In Compétition et sacré au haut Moyen Âge: entre médiation et exclusion (IVe-XIe siècle). Edited by P. Depreux, F. Bougard, R. Le Jan, 361–78. Turnhout: Brepols, 2015. Sessa, K. The Formation of Papal Authority in Late Antique Italy: Roman Bishops and the Domestic Sphere. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Sharpe, R. “Eadmer's Letter to the Monks of Glastonbury Concerning St. Dunstan's Disputed Remains.” In The Archaeology and History of Glastonbury Abbey: essays in honor of the ninetieth birthday of C.A. Raleigh Radford. Edited by Lesley Abrams and James Carley, 205–216. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1991. ———. “The Setting of St Augustine’s Translation, 1091.” In Canterbury and the Norman Conquest: churches, saints, and scholars 1066–1109. Edited by Richard Eales and Richard Sharpe, 1–14. London: Hambledon, 1995. Shopkow, L. History and Community: Norman historical writing in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1997. 301

Short, I. “Tam Angli quam Franci: self-definition in Anglo–Norman England.” Anglo–Norman Studies 18 (1996): 153–175. Silvagni, A. Monumenta epigraphica christiana saeculo XIII antiquiora quae in Italiae finibus adhuc extant. Vatican City: Pontificium Institutum Archaeologiae Christianae, 1943. Sivo, V. “Ricerche sulla tradizione manoscritta e sul testo dell’Apparitio latina.” In Culto e insediamenti micaelici nell'Italia meridionale fra tarda antichità e medioevo: atti del convegno internazionale, Monte Sant'Angelo, 18–21 novembre 1992. Edited by C. Carletti and Otranto, 95–106. Bari: Edipuglia, 1994. Skinner, P. “Urban communities in Naples, 900–1050.” Papers of the British School at Rome 62 (1994): 279–99. ———. Family Power in southern Italy: The Duchy of Gaeta and its neighbours, 850–1139. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. ———. Medieval Amalfi and its Diaspora, 800–1250. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Snoek, G. J. G. Medieval Piety from Relics to the Eucharist: A Process of Mutual Interaction. Leiden: Brill, 1995. Southern, R.W. Saint Anselm and His Biographer: A Study of Monastic Life and Thought 1059– 1130. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963. ———. Saint Anselm: A portrait in a Landscape. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Spiegel, G. “Memory and History: Liturgical Time and Historical Time.” History and Theory 41 (2002): 149–50. Stock, B. The Implications of Literacy: Written Language and Models of Interpretation in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1983. Sturges, R. S. Medieval Interpretation: Models of Reading in Literary Narrative, 1100–1500. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1991. Symes, C. “Liturgical Texts and Performance Practices.” in Understanding Medieval Liturgy. Edited by H. Gittos and S. Hamilton, 239–67. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2015. Taviani-Carozzi, T. La principauté lombarde de Salerne (IXe-XIe siècle): pouvoir et société en Italie lombarde méridionale. Rome: École française de Rome, 1991. ———. La Terreur du Monde: Robert Guiscard et la conquête normande en Italie. Paris: Fayard, 1996. Taylor, J.A. Muslims in Medieval Italy: The Colony at Lucera. New York: Lexington Books, 2005. Thacker, A. “Cults at Canterbury: Relics and Reform under Dunstan and his Successors.” In St Dunstan: His Life, Times and Cult. Edited by N. Ramsay, M. Sparks, T. Tatton–Brown, 221–246. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1992. ———. “In Search of the Saints: The English Church and the Cult of Roman Apostles and Martyrs in the Seventh and Eighth Centuries.” In Early Medieval Rome and the Christian West: essays in honour of Donald A. Bullough. Edited by J. Smith, 247–77. Leiden: Brill, 2000. 302

———. and R. Sharpe. Local Saints and Local Churches in the Early Medieval West. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Thomas, A. Jeux lombards: alliances, parenté et politique en Italie méridionale, de la fin du VIIIe siècle à la conquête normande. Rome: École française de Rome, 2016. Thomas, H. M. “The Gesta Herwardi, the English and their Conquerors.” Anglo–Norman Studies 21 (1999): 213–232. ———. The English and the Normans: ethnic hostility, assimilation, and identity 1066– c.1220. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Tria, G. A. Memorie storiche civili, ed ecclesiastiche della città e diocesi di Larino, metropoli degli Antichi Fentani. Roma: Zempel, 1744. Tounta, E. “Saints, Rulers and Communities in Southern Italy: the Vitae of the Italo-Greek Saints (tenth to eleventh centuries) and their Audiences.” Journal of Medieval History 42.4 (2016): 429–55. Ugé, K. “Relics as tools of power: the eleventh–century inventio of St Bertin’s relics and the assertion of Abbot Bovo’s authority.” In Negotiating Secular and Ecclesiastical Power: western Europe in the central Middle Ages. Edited by A. Bijsterveld, H. Tenuis, and A. Wareham, 51–71. Turnhout: Brepols, 1999. ———. Creating the Monastic Past in Medieval Flanders. Woodbridge: York Medieval, 2005. Van Houts, E. “Historiography and Hagiography at Saint–Wandrille: the ‘inventio and miracula Sancti Vulfranni’.” Anglo–Norman Studies 12 (1990): 233–51. ———. ed. Medieval Memories: Men, Women, and the Past, 700–1300. London: Longman, 2001. ———. “Rouen as another Rome in the Twelfth Century.” In Society and Culture in Medieval Rouen, 911–1300. Edited by L. Hicks and E. Brenner, 101–24. Turnhout: Brepols, 2013. Vaughn, S. The Abbey of Bec and the Anglo–Norman State, 1034–1136. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1981. Veronese, A. “Monasteri femminili in Italia settentrionale nell’Alto Medioevo. Confronto con i monasteri maschili attraverso un tentativo di analisi ‘statistica.’” Benedictina 34 (1987): 355–422. Vergara, G. “Presentazione e cronologia di un’altra opera di Giovanni Diacono napoletano.” Rassegna Storica dei Comuni 2 (1970): 161–5. Visentin, B. La nuova Capua longobarda: identità etnica e coscienza civica nel Mezzogiorno altomedievale. Manduria: P. Lacaita, 2012. Vocino, G. “Le traslazioni di reliquie in età carolingia (fine VII-IX secolo): uno studio comparativo.” Revista di storia e letteratura religiosa 44 (2008): 207–55. ———. “Under the Aegis of the Saints: Hagiography and Power in Early Carolingian Northern Italy.” Early Medieval Europe 22.1 (2014): 26–52. Vitale,T. Storia della regia città di Ariano è sua diocesi. Bologna: Forni Editore, 1894. Vitolo, G.“Vescovi e diocesi.” In Storia del Mezzogiorno. Edited by G. Galasso, vol. 3, pp. 75– 151. Naples: Edizione del Sole, 1990. 303

———., ed. Pellegrinaggi e itinerari del santi nel Mezzogiorno medievale. Naples: Liguori, 1999. Von Falkenhausen, V. “I ceti dirigenti prenormanni al tempo della costituzione degli stati normanni nell’Italia meridionale e in Sicilia.” In Forme di potere e struttura sociale in Italia nel medioevo, ed. G. Rossetti Pepe, 321–77. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1977. ———. La dominazione bizantina nell'Italia meridionale dal 9. al 11. secolo. Bari: Ecumenica, 1978. ———. “I Longobardi meridionale.” In Il Mezzogiorno dai bizantini a Federico II, storia d’Italia. Edited by G. Galasso, et al., vol. 3, pp. 251–52. Turin: UTET, 1983. Vuolo, A. “La ‘Passio S. Januarii’ nelle epitomi medievali.” Studi ianuariani: in occasione del VI centenario della prima notizia storica della liquefazione del sangue di S.Gennaro (1389–1989). Edited by D. Ambrasi and U. Dovere, 268–92. Naples: Pontificia Facoltà Teologica dell'Italia Meridionale Sezione Tommaso d'Aquino, 1989. ———.“Agiografia beneventana.” In Longobardia e longobardi nell’Italia meridionale: le istituzioni ecclesiastiche. Edited by G. Adenna and G. Picasso, 199–237. Milan: Vita e pensiero 1996. ———.“Ancora a proposito della ‘Vita Barbati episcopi Beneventani’ (BHL 973).” Hagiographica 13 (2006): 11–31. Wallace-Hadrill, J. M. The Frankish Church. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001. Webber, N. The Evolution of Norman Identity, 911–1154. Woodbridge: Boydell, 2005. West, G.V.B. “Charlemagne’s Involvement in Central and Southern Italy: Power and the Limits of Authority.” Early Medieval Europe 8.3 (1999): 341–367. Whalen, B. “The Discovery of the Holy : Relics, Ecclesiastical Politics and Sacred History in Twelfth-Century Crusader Palestine.” Historical Reflections 27:1 (2001): 139– 176. White, L, Jr. Latin Monasticism in Norman Sicily. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1938. Wickham, C. Early Medieval Italy: Central Power and Local Society, 400–1000. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1981. ———. “The terra of San Vincenzo al Volturno in the 8th to 12th centuries: the Historical Framework.” In San Vincenzo al Volturno: The Archaeology, Art and Territory. Edited by Hodges and Mitchell, 227–58. Oxford: BAR, 1985. Williams, A. “The Dangers of Invention: The Sack of Canterbury, 1011, and the ‘Theft’ of Dunstan’s Relics.” In Cathedrals, Communities and Conflict in the Anglo-Norman World. Edited by P. Dalton, C. Insley, and L. K. Wilkinson, 27–40. Woodbridge: Boydell, 1995. Wolf, K. B. Making History: The Normans and their Historians in Eleventh-Century Italy. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995. Wood, I. “Cult, Relics and Privileged Burial at San Vincenzo al Volturno in the Age of Charlemagne: The Discovery of the Tomb of Abbot Talaricus (817– 3 October 823).” In

304

I Congresso nazionale di archeologia medievale, Pisa, 29–31 maggio. Edited by S. Gelici, 315–21. Florence: All'Insegna del Giglio, 2000. ———. “Giovardi, MS Verolensis 1, Arichis, and Mercurius.” In Zwischen Niedershrift und Wiederschrift: Hagiographie und Historiographie im Spannungsfeld von Kompendienüberlieferung und Editionstechnik. Edited by R. Corradini, M. Diesenberger and M. Niederkorn-Bruck, 197–210. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2010. Yarrow, S. Saints and their Communities: Miracles Stories in Twelfth-Century England. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. Zannini, U.﹘ and G. Guadagno. S. Martino e S. Bernardo. Marina di Minturno: Istituto Grafico Editoriale Italiano, 1997. Zchomelidse, N. Art, Ritual, and Civic Identity in Medieval Southern Italy. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2014.

305