Showing posts with label Notker the Stammerer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Notker the Stammerer. Show all posts

Monday, May 21, 2018

The Absolute Cheesiest Tale About Charlemagne



In the 880s, a monk named Notker the Stammerer decided to write about the life of Charlemagne, the famous king of the Franks who took power in 768 and died in 814. Notker, however, was not the king’s first biographer. The Life of Charlemagne by Einhard was written in the 820s and was already a widely read text by the time Notker began writing. Nevertheless, Notker the Stammerer must have felt that Einhard’s text was lacking in one aspect of Charlemagne’s life—religion and the church. In fact, nearly the entire first book of Notker’s Deeds of Charlemagne consisted of numerous bizarre stories told to Notker by a certain cleric named Werinbert. These tales were unfortunately often left devoid of names, locations and dates, so it is difficult to assign any historical validity to the stories of Notker’s first book. Even so, the strange tales are immensely entertaining and can give a window into the mind of a 9th-century author.

One of Notker’s stories told of an anonymous bishop who resided along an inland route that Charlemagne used frequently for his travels. While the king of the Franks was there, the unnamed bishop offered the king his hospitality, supplying food and drink from his own stores. The local church had plenty of supplies to feed the monarch, but there was a problem—the king arrived on the Friday Fast and, as a devout Christian, Charlemagne refused any dish made with meat from land animals or birds. Fish was an acceptable meal for the fast, but as the king was in an inland bishopric, Charlemagne would have been long gone before any seafood could be carted into town. Unfortunately for Charlemagne, all that the bishop could provide on that Friday was cheese.

Surrounded by his attendants and the bishop, Charlemagne prepared for his meal. As the bishop blushed with embarrassment, a wheel of cheese was brought before the king. It was the best cheese that the region had to offer, but it must have looked unappetizing, especially the rough, dry edges of the wheel. According to the tale, Charlemagne withheld any comment and silently cut away the edges, intending to eat only the smooth and creamy center. When the bishop realized what the king was doing, he hesitantly approached and lightly commented that Charlemagne had cut away the best part. It was a comment that the bishop would likely come to regret.

As the tale goes, Charlemagne trusted the bishop and looked for the choicest section of the unseemly hardened ends of the cheese. He cautiously ate the selected piece, slowly but methodically devouring the specimen. When the king finally swallowed the cheese, he enthusiastically turned to the bishop and agreed that the ends were delicious. Charlemagne was so delighted with the taste that he demanded two full carts of the cheese ends to be shipped to his capital at Aachen on an annual basis. The king even specified how the cheese should be shipped: The cheese wheels were to be cut in half, with the best halves going to the king and the lesser sections staying behind to feed the bishopric. The king’s cheese selections would then be skewered together and placed in a barrel, which, in turn, would be placed in the two carts that would carry the cheese to Aachen.

For three years the bishop meticulously carried out Charlemagne’s orders, selecting, barreling and shipping two cart loads of the excellent cheese to Aachen each year. The burden of finding enough pristine cheese to meet the king’s demands was no easy task, yet the bishop always met his quota and usually drove the carts to Aachen himself. After the third annual shipment was received at Aachen, Charlemagne released the dutiful bishop from the job of being the king’s supplier of cheese. Perhaps, Charlemagne recognized the effort it took for the bishop to collect the cheeses, or the king could have simply grown tired of cheese after three years. Whatever the case, Charlemagne rewarded the bishop for his three years of service by adding to his bishopric new tracts of fertile lands, which were pristine for the cultivation of grain and wine vineyards.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (“Still Life With Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels”, by Clara Peeters (1594–), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Two Lives of Charlemagne, by Einhard and Notker the Stammer, translated by David Ganz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.  

Monday, May 14, 2018

In One Odd Tale, King Pippin III Of The Franks Fought A Demon While He Was In A Bath



In the mid 880s, a monk of St. Gall known as Notker the Stammerer wrote an unfinished text called The Deeds of Charlemagne. Most of the first book of the text consisted of an odd collection of tales concerning Charlemagne and the bishops in his lands. The second book of the text transitioned more into Charlemagne’s foreign policy and often digressed into other stories about the great king’s predecessors and successors. Although Notker the Stammerer was writing a biography, his writing style can be frustrating to people seeking historical information on the life of Charlemagne. Notker often neglected to mention names, locations and dates, making many of the tales collected in his text virtually impossibly to validate. In addition to this, many of Notker’s stories were fantastical in nature, featuring monsters, demons and overt, flashy divine interventions, making them unpalatable to most modern historical narratives. Nevertheless, the odd tales of Notker the Stammerer can give a glimpse into the mind of a 9th-century monk and have value, even if only for the sake of entertainment.

In one of the digressions away from the main subject of his text, Notker the Stammerer began commenting on Pippin III (r. 751-768), the first Carolingian king of the Franks and the father of Charlemagne. After briefly recounting how Pippin attacked the Lombards on the behest of the Pope, Notker transitioned into telling a few select stories about the king.

One of the tales was about a supernatural battle between Pippin and a demonic creature. The alleged event took place at an unknown date when King Pippin was readying himself for a bath in a natural hot spring located in the city of Aachen. The king sent his chamberlain and guards to assure that the water was clean and, when the purity of the water was confirmed, the king had the troops set up a perimeter around the hot spring to keep anyone from disturbing his bath.

Eager to enter the hot waters, Pippin began stripping off layers of clothing. He had taken off everything except a linen gown and slippers when something caught his eye. It was a humanoid shape, a dark mass that resided somewhere between the corporeal and spirit realms.
The demonic creature, or “the old enemy” as Notker called it, suddenly attacked Pippin. Using the sign of the cross, Pippin was said to have been able to stun the demon, buying himself enough time to draw his sword. Pippin then stabbed at the dark entity, driving his sword through the shadowy mass, not stopping until his blade was lodged deep in the ground. The wound seemingly killed or banished the creature, causing it to dissolve into a pool of blood and slime that polluted the hot spring. In an odd end to the tale, Notker the Stammerer wrote that King Pippin III merely waited for the current of the spring to carry away the dark grime and, when the water was once again clean, he nonchalantly took his bath.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (cropped and modified Pippin III painted by Louis-Félix Amiel  (1802–1864), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Source:
  • Two Lives of Charlemagne, by Einhard and Notker the Stammer, translated by David Ganz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.

Sunday, May 6, 2018

The Bizarre Tale Of A Goblin That Gave Away Free Drinks In The Reign Of Charlemagne



In the 9th century, two major biographies were written about the reign of Charlemagne, who became king in 768 and died in 814. Einhard, an intellectual from Charlemagne’s court, wrote the earliest biography about the great king, completing it sometime during the 820s. For the time in which it was written, Einhard’s text was remarkably secular, focusing on the actions and demeanor of Charlemagne rather than the state of Christendom in Charlemagne’s empire.

Several decades later, in the 880s, a monk named Notker the Stammerer decided to publish his own commentary about the great king’s reign and strove to give the church a more significant position in his account of Charlemagne’s life. In fact, nearly the entire first book of Notker’s Deeds of Charlemagne consisted of compiled odd tales that occurred between the great king and his local bishops. These bizarre stories, told to Notker by a certain cleric named Werinbert, were unfortunately often left devoid of names and dates, so it is difficult to assign any historical validity to Notker’s first book. Nevertheless, the strange tales are immensely entertaining and can give a window of insight into what some 9th-century people believed.

One of Notker’s many stories took place somewhere in France that was suffering from a drought. In that region, there was a greedy bishop (name left anonymous) who used the opportunity to make money. The bishop opened up his warehouse to provide provisions for the hungry and thirsty, but charged unfair prices for his products. The greed of the bishop and the desperation of the townspeople apparently caught the attention of a supernatural being. According to Notker, a goblin or a mischievous demon entered the area to tempt the bishop’s neglected flock.

The goblin made its rounds through the town, breaking into homes and workshops to play with peoples’ belongings. In particular, the creature apparently had a fondness for the shops of the town’s blacksmiths, where it could spend the nights noisily drumming upon the anvils with hammers. As sightings of the goblin became more numerous, word spread around town that the creature could be banished by simply making the sign of the cross. One day, a certain haunted homeowner decided to try this method to banish the goblin from his home, but, before the sign could be completed, the creature made an interesting counteroffer. The goblin promised that, if he was allowed to stay, he would fill whatever container was left to him (no matter the size) with an alcoholic beverage on a nightly basis. The offer was especially tempting because of the drought that was plaguing the town. Therefore, the homeowner agreed to the proposal and handed over to the goblin the largest tankard or flask that he possessed.

As the goblin had promised, each morning the tankard was filled with wine. For several days this went on—while the rest of the town paid outrages prices to the bishop for supplies, the unnamed homeowner received free wine from the goblin. Nevertheless, all good things must end. After an unknown amount of time, the tankard disappeared and the goblin was nowhere to be seen. That same day, the bishop announced that he had caught a demon in his wine cellar. According to Notker, the bishop had discovered that a barrel of wine from his cellar had been cracked open and spilled on the floor each night. After the thefts kept occurring, the bishop eventually suspected that a foul spirit was the culprit. With this in mind, the bishop made a trap by sprinkling holy water on the floor of the wine cellar. In the end, the unsuspecting goblin somehow found himself trapped in the bishop’s cellar and was apprehended by the local authorities the next morning.

According to Notker, the so-called goblin or demon looked fairly human when it was caught, albeit a bit hairy. Interestingly enough, the supernatural being was apparently flogged for its crime of thievery. In a wholesome scene at the end of the story, when the goblin was being led away for punishment, he expressed sadness and remorse for losing the tankard that was left to him by the homeowner, whom the goblin considered to be a friend.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Scene from the legend of St Benedict, painted by Spinello Aretino (1350–1410), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Two Lives of Charlemagne, by Einhard and Notker the Stammer, translated by David Ganz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.