Imagining Rome: Reading a Ninth-Century Carolingian Manuscript in Its Monastic Context

Abstract

This chapter examines the image of Rome evoked in a Carolingian collection of writings in a manuscript that is now kept in the Stiftsbibliothek of Einsiedeln (Codex 326 (1076)). Containing mostly texts that focus on Rome, the book has been interpreted as a guidebook for pilgrims, providing directions and information about the important sites in the city. Contending this view, the article argues that the book evokes a symbolic image of Rome that is embedded in a longer literary and artistic tradition. At the same time, it fits the wider interests and needs of readers in the immediate context in which it was made and functioned, the Carolingian monastery. In keeping with the Carolingians’ broader interest in renovatio, Rome is presented as a resource of liturgical renewal and model for new literary creations. At the same time, the manuscript takes on educational and meditational functions, which cannot be seen apart from its monastic context of origin and use. Thus, the book allowed the reader outside Rome to imagine the city and to experience it from within, without ever going there in person.

1 Images of Rome: An Introduction

Different though they are in medium and visual outlook, ancient and early medieval visual representations of Rome share an important characteristic: they convey an interest in depicting the city in a rather abstract and symbolic manner.¹ Scholars argue that the Severan Marble Plan (Forma Urbis Romae) (203–211 CE), which was long seen as a locator map or cadaster record indicating property boundaries,² had an ideological more than a practical function: it showed the ‘scale and grandeur of the city, but not its specificity’.³ The symbolic nature is most evident from personified images of Rome, for instance, the one appearing on the Peutinger Table (Tabula Peutingeriana), a thirteenth-century copy of a road map of the Roman empire that may date back to the fourth or fifth century CE. Rome is depicted as a crowned figure, sitting on a throne, clad in a purple toga, and holding a sceptre, globe, and shield (Fig. 1), symbolising the city’s imperial authority in a time when it was already more of a fiction than a reality. Rome keeps being depicted in such fashion also after the fall of the Western Roman empire, for instance, as a woman seated holding a globe on coinage struck by the emperor Anastasios I (r. 491–518) in Constantinople (Fig. 2). The example indicates that Rome has become an ‘idea’ that, disconnected from the physical city, could get a more universal meaning as a symbol of imperial authority. This was how Rome remained to be depicted and remembered in the Middle Ages, not just in Byzantium but also among the Carolingians.

Fig. 1

Rome represented in personified fashion, with the St. Peter’s basilica (Scm Petrum) to the left and Ostia below. Detail of the Peutinger Table, thirteenth-c. copy of a (probably) fourth–fifth c. original. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 324, Segment 4. Reproduced with permission from the ONB/Wien

Fig. 2

Half follis struck by Anastasios I (491–518) in Constantinople. Copper

(Photograph from the Dumbarton Oaks Online Catalogue of Byzantine Coins, accession no. BZC.1967.17.1, © Dumbarton Oaks, Coins and Seals Collection, Washington, DC. Consulted online on December 21, 2022, https://www.doaks.org/resources/coins/catalogue/BZC.1967.17.1/view)

A telling illustration can be found in a couple of fifteenth-century manuscripts with Latin geographical texts, which are a close copy from the humanist era that go back to a Carolingian manuscript from Speyer now lost (Fig. 3). Rome is depicted in a similar fashion as on the Peutinger Table, as an enthroned figure, clad in a toga, having a spear and shield, and crowned with a halo.⁴ The image occurs on the frontispiece of the Notitia Urbis Romae, a text from the Constantinian period which lists the various administrative regions of Rome and functional elements of Rome’s ancient grain distribution system (the cura annonae), such as quarters, insula’s, houses, and granaries.⁵ Inscriptions identify the figure as Roma and the ‘Annona of the city of Rome’ (Annona urbis Romae). Another inscription calls Rome the ‘city which, once desolated, is now restored even more brightly by the most pious authority’ (urbs quae aliquando desolata nunc clariosior piisimo imperio restaurata). These inscriptions recall contemporary poetic descriptions, for instance, Alcuin’s portrayal of Rome’s desolation (‘Of Rome, capital and wonder of the world, golden Rome, only a barbarous ruin now remains’⁶). It also brings to mind Moduin’s praise of Charlemagne:

Fig. 3

Personified representation of Rome. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Latin 9661, f. 65v (fifteenth c.) (Photograph from BnF/Gallica. Consulted online on October 17, 2022, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b6000542r/f134.double. Reproduced by permission of BnF)

Verse

Verse Our times are transformed into the civilisation of Antiquity. Golden Rome is reborn and restored anew to the world!

Verse

Verse Rursus in antiquos mutataque secula mores. Aurea Roma iterum renovata renascitur orbi.Footnote

Moduin, Nasonis Ecloga 1.1.26–27, ed. Ernst Duemmler, MGH Poet. 1, 385; trans. Godman, Poetry of the Carolingian Renaissance, 193.

Moduin refers to Charlemagne’s building campaigns in Aachen, which he conceived of as a new Rome. His poem also recalls Charlemagne’s support of the extensive building and restauration campaigns undertaken by the popes such as Hadrian I (772–795) and Leo III (795–816) to embellish the real city of Rome.⁸ The same may be remembered in the inscription accompanying the personification of Rome in the Notitia-manuscripts. On a more general level, the inscription aligns with the Carolingian idea of renovatio, in which the Frankish kingdom was seen as the glorious successor to the ancient empire and Rome as the most important symbol of imperial power. This meaning of Rome is underscored by the emperor-like depiction of the city in the Notitia-manuscripts.

This chapter focuses on another work from the Carolingian time that presents a rather symbolic and abstract image of Rome. It is a collection of five writings, most of them focusing on Rome, which is now kept in a larger composite manuscript in the Stiftsbibliothek of Einsiedeln, Codex 326 (1076). The five texts form one codicological unit, all written in the same hand in a Carolingian minuscule from the ninth century.⁹ Four texts directly focus on Rome: (1) an anthology with inscriptions from Rome and Pavia (the so-called Sylloge Einsidlensis, ff. 67r–79v), (2) an Itinerarium (‘guidebook’) with twelve walking routes through Rome (ff. 79v–85r), (3) a description of the Aurelian walls (ff. 85r–86r), and (4) a description of the rites and processions according to the ‘Roman rite’ (‘Ordo Romanus’) in and around the Jerusalem-church (the current Sa. Croce in Gerusalemme) and the St. John Lateran in Rome during the final three days of the Holy Week (ff. 86v–88r). The collection ends with (5) what I call the ‘Einsiedeln Anthology’, a collection of mostly poetic texts that are not connected to the physical city of Rome (ff. 88v–97v).¹⁰ The ownership inscription ‘Iste liber est Monasterij fabariensis’ (‘This book is from the monastery of Pfäfers’, f. 104v) suggests that the manuscript was initially kept in Pfäfers, an abbey founded by monks from Reichenau. It was perhaps made in Pfäfers—the monastery had a scriptorium—or brought there from Reichenau.¹¹ A link with Reichenau is also evident from two funerary epitaphs at the end of the Anthology, dedicated to Carolingian noblemen who acted as donors to the monastery: Gerold (d. 799), the prefect of Bavaria and brother of Charlemagne’s wife Hildegard, and Bernald (d. 840), the bishop of Fulda.¹² In the fourteenth century, the manuscript was transferred to the Stiftsbibliothek in Einsiedeln, where it was combined with some other, partly Carolingian, writings in a composite codex.¹³ Henceforth, I will call the collection of five writings the ‘Pfäfers manuscript’, to distinguish it from the larger composite codex in which it is kept still today.

This chapter examines what image of Rome is evoked in the various writings of the Pfäfers manuscript, and how the image relates to the original context in which the manuscript was created and used, most likely a Carolingian monastery such as Pfäfers abbey. So far, scholarship has not paid much attention to the Carolingian background of the manuscript, focusing mostly on its supposed utilitarian function as a guidebook for pilgrims in Rome. Contending this view, I aim to demonstrate the importance of the monastic context of origin and use of the manuscript for the understanding of its function and the symbolic meaning of the image of Rome evoked in the work.

2 The Pfäfers Manuscript: A Travel Guidebook?

The Pfäfers manuscript is often interpreted as an aid for pilgrims in Rome. According to Gerold Walser, editor of the Sylloge, Itinerarium and Wall Description, the writings were composed by a Carolingian monk, who may have been in Charlemagne’s retinue during one of his visits to Rome under Popes Hadrian I or Leo III (by whom he was crowned emperor in 800). Indeed, the Itinerarium mentions many of the monuments that were rebuilt or restored by these popes with Frankish help, which makes a dating in the early ninth century likely.¹⁴ As scholars have it, the Itinerarium and Wall Description would record the monk’s circuits in Rome, while the greater part of the Sylloge consists of the inscriptions he saw there. The monk would have gone there via Pavia, where he copied some of the other inscriptions in the Sylloge.¹⁵ He would have entrusted the Sylloge, Itinerarium and Wall Description to the library of his monastery on his return, where they waited to be used by later pilgrims.¹⁶

Scholars usually pay most attention to the Itinerarium, arguing it is a guidebook for pilgrims that provides information on the most important monuments to see in Rome.¹⁷ Indeed, many of the listed places were of special value to pilgrims: churches and shrines of the saints inside and outside the city walls, deaconries (diaconiae)—places of residence for the sick and needy where pilgrims also found shelter—, baths, and fountains supplying fresh water.¹⁸ The remarkable page layout of the Itinerarium has also been interpreted in the light of travelling, as an aid to navigate the city.¹⁹ Instead of running text, the Itinerarium consists of lists of monuments along the routes grouped in three columns on the left, on the right, and in the middle of the bifolio. The columns correspond to the position of the monuments in relation to the traveller in Rome: to his left or right, or in the middle in case the traveller has to cross a square or go under an arch. An example is route 1 (Fig. 4), in which the names of the Roman Forum (forum Romanum) and the Arch of Severus (arcus Severi) are written in the middle of the bifolio. Sometimes the rubrics in dextra or IND (‘to the right’) and in sinistra or INS (‘to the left’) are added in red ink, further emphasising the location of monuments in real space. The routes are preceded by a title in red capitals, indicating the starting and end points of the route, often one of the gates in the Aurelian walls. As scholars have it, these various elements would have helped the pilgrim to identify monuments along the road while walking with the book through Rome.

Fig. 4

Routes 1 and 2 in the Itinerarium Einsidlense (f.79v–80r).

Photograph from e-codices, ‘Codex 326(1076)’, consulted online on September 9, 2022, https://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/doubleview/sbe/0326/79v/. License CC-BY-3.0)

Also the other Rome-centred writings in the Pfäfers are interpreted in the light of Rome pilgrimage. The inscriptions in the Sylloge would have been ‘local guides’ giving more information about the cityscape in which the itineraries were outlined.²⁰ The liturgy description in the Ordo Romanus gave the traveller more information about Rome’s liturgy, being ‘symptomatic of the high relevance that religion has always had, and to a large extent still has, regarding journeys to Rome’.²¹ The Wall Description, which provides an overview of the towers, battlements, windows, and latrines of the Aurelian walls, could have served the traveller ‘as a means of measuring the distance between each gate along the way’ when visiting the Christian sanctuaries outside the walls.²²

However obvious it may seem, there are several reasons to question the interpretation of the Pfäfers manuscript as a book by and for Rome pilgrims. First, the identification of the scribe as a Frankish monk in the retinue of Charlemagne during one of his journeys to Rome rests on shaky ground. The manuscript does not give any information about the scribe, and reports of Charlemagne’s Rome-visits do not refer to monks in his retinue.²³ Second, the Einsiedeln Itinerarium does not seem very helpful as a guidebook for a pilgrim in Rome. As Bauer notes, the indications of the position of the monuments (left or right) are often too general to be used on a journey, while the routes are not always easy to follow in reality.²⁴ Similarly, the references to the locations of inscriptions in the Sylloge are rather vague, of the type In Foro Palatino (f. 71r), In Via Appia (f. 71v) or Ad Tiber (f. 73v). Third, one wonders what the aim was of the final component of the Pfäfers manuscript, the Anthology of mostly poetic texts. It does not provide any information about the city of Rome (which probably explains why it is often left out of account by scholars highlighting the guidebook function of the Pfäfers manuscript).

Bauer, who questions the idea that the Itinerarium was meant as a guidebook for pilgrims in the real city of Rome, suggests that the manuscript had a different function and intended audience: ‘[The Itinerarium] should serve the reader far from Rome, should develop an image of the city of Rome, which could provide those who did not know the city an idea of its size, its pile of monuments, and the ancient and Christian sanctuaries there’.²⁵ The aim was to create an ‘image’ (Bild) of Rome that could function as a visual guide for the reader far away from Rome and represent the city ‘in its entirety’ (der Vergegenwärtigung der Gesamtheit der Stadt Rom). The Itinerarium should be seen as a kind of schematic travelogue, providing ‘a rather abstract portrayal of the city’ (eine eher abstrakt gehaltene Stadtdarstellung), that ‘could no longer serve a potential visitor of Rome' (die einem potentiellen Rombesucher nicht mehr nutzen konnte).²⁶ Similarly, Maya Maskarinec argues that the manuscript ‘offered a guide to Rome for armchair readers north of the Alps who had never visited the city of Rome and probably never would. Readers far from Rome were invited to conjure up a Rome in the mind—an imaginative exercise that, if done properly, was for the benefit of their soul’.²⁷

Building on the views of Bauer and Maskarinec, I hypothesise that the Itinerarium and other writings in the Pfäfers manuscript were not meant as aids for real pilgrimages but were aimed at a reader that should probably be sought in a place far from Rome, most likely, as I would see it, a monk in one of the Carolingian monasteries, for instance, Pfäfers. So far, no attention has yet been paid to the specific context in which that reader was located and the implications of their context for understanding the function and interpretation of the manuscript. As I argue in the next section, the Anthology of mostly poetic writings at the end of the Pfäfers manuscript is crucial for understanding the function of the Pfäfers manuscript in its original context of use.

3 The Monastic Context of the Manuscript

Despite their thematic variety and diverse religious orientation, the materials in the Anthology have as a common denominator that they can be classified as school texts.²⁸ According to Maskarinec, the riddle of the black and white soldiers at the beginning of the Anthology represents the type of ‘puzzles that were in vogue among the Carolingian elite as pedagogically useful for sharpening that most rational part of the soul, the mind’.²⁹ The second poem, Ausonius’ epigram on Hercules, originates from the poet’s Eclogae or Epyllia, a cycle of didactic epigrams dealing with a range of topics that were taught in schools from Antiquity onwards, such as the names and days of the week and the months, the Roman feast days, and the virtues of a good man.³⁰ The third poem, sometimes attributed to Alcuin and recording a conflict between Spring and Winter (Conflictus veris et hiemis), is strongly indebted to Virgil’s eclogues, an important school text in the entire Middle Ages, used as a model of good grammar and style. As Peter Godman notes with respect to the Conflictus poem, ‘Its origins lie in the classroom, and its form is influenced both by the style of exchange in which instruction was conducted and by the authors, particularly Virgil, of pastoral eclogue studied there’.³¹ As I will explain in more detail below, the same is probably true of the fifth poem in the collection, a late antique and pseudo-Damasian Tityrus-poem, which alludes to the Virgil’s first eclogue in language and structure.

In between the two poems we find an epigram on envy, which may have been used in a school setting as a warning for students (‘Nothing is more just than envy, which straightaway gnaws on its own creator and torments the soul’).³² The sixth text, a point-by-point enumeration of the different elements of the soul, is a gloss based on Isidore’s Etymologies, one of the most popular textbooks in the Carolingian time.³³ It is followed by an excerpt of a poem by Martial, who continued to be read as a school author in the Middle Ages.³⁴ Prudentius’ Dittochaeon, the subsequent text in the Anthology, has been characterised as a ‘common elementary reader’ in the Middle Ages, providing the student with models of virtue and vice, while also showing various typological connections between the Old and New Testaments—a core idea in Christian theology.³⁵ The educational dimension of the texts is a strong indication that the Anthology was first and foremost meant to be read in a context of study and education.

This reading has implications for the Rome-centred writings with which the Anthology forms one codicological unit in the Pfäfers manuscript, suggesting that they should be understood in a context of study and education as well. As the ownership indications of the Pfäfers manuscript suggest, this context was most likely to be found within the walls of the monastery. It raises the question why monks would be interested to learn more about Rome, its monuments, inscriptions, and liturgies. As Rosamond McKitterick argues, the teaching and study in Carolingian monasteries was largely inspired by spiritual motives: ‘There is a clear preoccupation with the Bible and the particular types of knowledge and scholarship this generated, for the effort to understand the Bible and Christ’s teaching is one of the clear impulses of Carolingian education and learning’.³⁶ This is evident from Carolingian book lists and inventories of monastic libraries.³⁷ Although the order is not fixed, they convey a certain overarching structure. They first list copies of the full Bible (pandects) or particular books from the Old and New Testaments, followed by exegetical works of Church fathers, which were considered the most important tool for explaining the Bible and exploring Christian doctrine, life, and history. Subsequently, a range of other writings are listed that could be used for exegesis: religious and intellectual treatises by Church fathers and major authors such as Isidore, liturgical works and homilies, utilitarian works (law and medicine), educational works (schoolbooks and grammars), monastic and ascetic works (rules and saints’ lives), and all kinds of historiographical, geographical, and poetical writings, both medieval and from classical Antiquity.³⁸ These works were used both as exegetical tool and practical instrument in the training in reading, which was the first necessary step in learning how to interpret the Bible. Something similar pertains to the world maps (mappae mundi) and the variety of geographical, topographical, and cosmographical works recorded in library catalogues: they were used to explore the space of the Holy Land and to get more insight into God’s creation.³⁹

The study and reading of earlier writings was not only spurred by spiritual motifs. Aligning with the wider interest in renovatio, Carolingian scholars and monks also used earlier writings from both the ancient pre-Christian and Christian post-classical world as the model for imitation and emulation in new literary works.⁴⁰ As I will argue in the next two sections, these approaches to learning and literature—as exegetical tool and model for inspiration—are important to evaluate the function and meaning of the Pfäfers manuscript. Rome appears as a repository of knowledge and learning, from which Carolingian scholars and monastics could draw inspiration in various realms. One of them was the development of liturgical rites.

4 Rome as Resource of Liturgy: The Itinerarium and Ordo Romanus

Although they appear at different places in the Pfäfers manuscript, the Itinerarium and Ordo Romanus are closely connected with one another, providing an image of Rome as a resource of liturgical rites. As I argue, both texts seem to focus on the stational processions taking place between churches (‘stations’) where liturgical celebrations were performed at important feast days in Rome’s liturgical calendar.⁴¹ This is most clearly evident from the Ordo Romanus, describing the stational procession of the bishop of Rome and his retinue in and around the Lateran palace, the St. John Lateran, and the Jerusalem-church (the current Santa Croce in Gerusalemme) on the final three days of the Holy Week.⁴² The liturgy description is traditionally seen as one of the so-called Ordines Romani, a type of writing highly popular in the Carolingian period, describing the Roman liturgy in the early Middle Ages. Scholars have long considered the Ordines Romani as a treasure trove about the earliest forms and history of the Roman rite.⁴³ Arthur Westwell questions this approach, arguing that the writings, even if they may contain authentic material collected by people attending the Roman rituals, are essentially Carolingian productions: ‘Every ninth-century manuscript is the product of a Frankish pen, for a Frankish audience’.⁴⁴ As Westwell argues, the many Ordines Romani that have survived from the Carolingian period testify to the attempts by individual clerics to find the correct liturgical form in a diversity of traditions.⁴⁵ Indicative of their wider interest in renovatio—now of liturgical forms—Carolingians considered the Roman rite as the most authoritative source for the correction of earlier ritual forms and formation of new ones.⁴⁶ The Roman link of the rites granted them authority as the ‘correct’ form of liturgy. Although clear indications about its function and use are lacking, the Einsiedeln Ordo Romanus may have had a similar function as other Carolingian Ordines Romani, providing an authoritative resource on the Roman rite and model for liturgical renewal for readers in places far away from the city.

As I argue elsewhere in more detail, there are reasons to believe that also the Itinerarium functions as a resource on the Roman rite.⁴⁷ As the Italian archaeologist Rodolfo Lanciani already noted in the late-nineteenth century, the Itinerarium conveys interesting parallels with descriptions of stational processions through Rome in the twelfth-century Liber Politicus by Benedict the Canon.⁴⁸ The second half of route 1 and part of route 7 in the Itinerarium correspond with Benedict’s description of the processions on the day of the purification of the virgin (February 2), running from the San Adriano to the Santa Lucia in Orthea, in the direction of the Santa Maria Maggiore.⁴⁹ Route 12 follows the same track as the stational procession on Christmas morning, but in the opposite direction: from the San Lorenzo in Damaso and the area around the Theatre of Pompey to the church of Sta. Anastasia. As I explain elsewhere in more detail, route 4 can be related to the stational procession on the day of the Great Litany (April 25). The processional route is not recorded in the Liber Politicus, but known from the Gregorian Sacramentary, a representation of the Roman liturgy from possibly the first third of the seventh century.⁵⁰ It starts at the San Lorenzo in Lucina in the direction of the Column of Antoninus Pius (originally standing next to the Column of Marcus Aurelius on the present Piazza Colonna⁵¹) and the San Marcello on the Via Lata (the present Via del Corso), turning after a detour to the Santi Apostoli via the area of the Pantheon (Rotunda in the Itinerarium) towards the Via Flaminia, ending at the San Valentino, close to the Milvian bridge.

These similarities suggest that the itineraries (or at least some of them) may in fact be the schematic overviews of processional routes in Rome. This would imply that the Itinerarium is closely connected to the Ordo Romanus text in the Pfäfers manuscript. If so, they likely shared the functions of other Carolingian Ordines Romani, informing the monastic reader about the processions taking place on certain feast days in Rome. The various monuments mentioned in the two texts render authority to the liturgical descriptions, anchoring them in Rome’s physical topography. As I argue in the next section, Rome is also important as a repository of knowledge and symbol of imperial power in the Pfäfers manuscript.

5 Rome as a Repository of Knowledge and Symbol of Imperial Power: The Sylloge and Anthology

This is evident from the writings at the beginning and end of the Pfäfers manuscript, the Sylloge and Anthology. Both can be defined as an anthology: a type of writing that experienced a clear revival in Carolingian book production from the ninth and tenth centuries. Anthologies occur in a variety of types, such as collections of inscriptions, sermons, religious writings, and liturgical texts (e.g. anthologies of Ordines Romani). The Sylloge Einsidlensis is an example of the widespread type of the epigraphic anthology.⁵² At least nine other anthologies of inscriptions from Rome have been transmitted from the Carolingian time (Table 1). Some contain only a handful of inscriptions; others are much more elaborate. The Sylloge Einsidlensis consists of ca. 75 inscriptions, all in Latin except for two Greek ones. Circa 40 inscriptions are ancient; the remainder originate from Late Antiquity.⁵³ The Einsiedeln Anthology belongs to the subgenre of the poetic anthology, which was also widespread in the Carolingian time. Till Hennings identifies several dozens of manuscripts with ninth-century poetry collections from monasteries in the Eastern Frankish empire, which suggests that several more could be detected from other parts of the Carolingian world.⁵⁴

Table 1 Overview of Carolingian epigraphic anthologies

The anthologies of inscriptions and poetry had a particular function in the court context, providing models for writings in praise of the Carolingian rulers. This practice had roots in the Lombard world, in which scholars and poets used ancient inscriptions—which were still visible in large quantities in the physical environment of Italy—as models for poems in praise of the Lombard kings.⁵⁵ The Lombard background of the practice is evident from the fact that some Sylloges contain epigrams from centres of the Lombard kingdom, such as Pavia in the Sylloge Einsidlensis.⁵⁶ After Charlemagne’s victory against the Lombards under king Desiderius (774), Lombard scholars such as Paul the Deacon, Peter of Pisa, and Paulinus of Aquileia entered the Frankish court, where they continued the tradition of collecting and writing inscriptions at the ruler’s service.⁵⁷

For the understanding of the anthologies in the Pfäfers manuscript it is important to emphasise that anthologies were also used in monastic schools, providing materials for the teaching of grammar and models for literary imitation and emulation in writing.⁵⁸ Anthologies also allowed exchange of writings among students and scholars. This may explain why some poems in the Sylloge Einsidlensis and Anthology also appear in other collections (see Table 1 for the inscriptions).⁵⁹ Two poems in the Einsiedeln Anthology—the Monasticha de Aerumnis Herculis and the funerary epitaph on Gerold, the prefect of Bavaria—appear in a large poetic anthology from St. Gall, still kept in the Stiftsbibliothek (Cod. Sang. 899).⁶⁰ Poems from the Einsiedeln Sylloge also appear in four other Carolingian anthologies (Table 1). The fourth Sylloge Laureshamensis and the Sylloge Centulensis each share one poem with the Einsiedeln Sylloge. Two inscriptions from the same Sylloge occur in a ninth-century Sylloge with inscriptions from the St. Peter’s now preserved in St. Gall (Cod. Sang. 271); four inscriptions appear in the so-called Sylloge Wirceburgensis, an inscription collection that may even be partly based on the Sylloge Einsidlensis.⁶¹ The Sylloges do not just share the same materials, but also convey the tendency to anchor the inscriptions in the physical landscape of Rome, often by means of rubrics denoting their locations. Like in the case of the Itinerarium, the inscriptions’ Roman origin may add to their authoritative value as objects of literary exchange and models for imitation.

The Sylloge ties in with the wider tendency of Carolingians to see the Frankish rule as the successor of the Roman empire. Scholars have observed the close connection between the Sylloge and Itinerarium: several inscriptions were located close to the routes or placed on monuments recorded in the Itinerarium.⁶² As I already said, the Itinerarium mentions various monuments restored by the popes Hadrian I and Leo III with Frankish help. In this respect, it is interesting to note that various inscriptions in the Sylloge record the building and renovation activities of emperors in Rome: both pre-Christian and Christian ones. Some of the Christian inscriptions celebrate the foundation of various early Christian basilicas, such as the St. Peter’s basilica (nos. 6 and 11), the Sa. Sabina (nos. 23 and 25) and the San Paolo fuori le Mura (no. 48). If read together with the Itinerarium, a well-informed reader could construct a narrative in which the renovation of Rome by ancient emperors prefigured the restoration works undertaken by the popes with Carolingian help.

In the Anthology, the Carolingian interest in renovatio is reflected on the level of the literary construction. As suggested by Maskarinec, the Carolingian poems in the Anthology employ earlier, ancient models to endorse a Christian message.⁶³ Spring announces the coming of Christianity after paganism in a style reminiscent of Virgil’s eclogues in the Conflictus poem (no. 3 in the collection), while the Tityrus-poem (no. 5) alludes to the first line of Virgil’s first eclogue to introduce a Christian believer: ‘You Tityrus, lying back under the faithful cover of Christ, you sing melodiously the divine words in sacred speech’.⁶⁴ The funerary epitaph on Charlemagne’s brother-in-law Gerold (d. 799) at the end of the Anthology is also inspired by earlier models. Gerold, who fell in battle with the Avars over the rule of Bavaria, is praised as a martyr: he ‘was killed in Pannonia [fighting] for the true peace of the Church; he met the wild sword at the calends of September [September 1], and delivered his soul to the stars’ (sideribusque animam dedit).⁶⁵ The poem recalls the language of Damasus’ epigram on Peter and Paul recorded in the Sylloge, who ‘followed Christ through the stars’ (Christumque per astra secuti) and are praised as ‘new stars’ (nova sidera).⁶⁶ As Maskarinec notes, ‘we see a slippage from Rome to Romanness—classical and Christian culture more broadly conceived; this heritage, as the poems demonstrate, has not ceased, but actively continues’. Thus, Rome ‘emerges as a flexible resource that is more than a physical landscape’, being ‘both the living present and the past of a city from which empire and Christianity emanated’.⁶⁷

This idea is also visible from the set-up of both anthologies, in which ancient and post-classical Christian and non-Christian writings follow one another without further distinction. In the Einsiedeln Anthology, Ausonius’ poem on the works of Hercules is followed by the Virgilian-styled Conflictus veris et hiemis—most likely a Carolingian creation—and the lines of Martial precede the Dittochaeum of the late antique Christian author Prudentius. As is immediately clear from the inscriptions recorded in the beginning of the Sylloge (Table 2), building inscriptions of ancient emperors and epitaphs from churches such as the St. Peter’s basilica follow one another without any chronological order. The distinguishing criterion is topographical; inscriptions that share the same location (e.g. a bridge or the Mausoleum of Hadrian) are grouped together. The guiding idea seems to be that Rome is a repository of knowledge that could be used to new aims, for instance, the writing of new poetry. The Roman link of the writings collected in the anthologies is what makes them valuable models for imitation and emulation.

Table 2 Overview of the first seven inscriptions of the Sylloge Einsidlensis

6 Experiencing Rome: From the Outside to the Inside

As my reading of the Pfäfers manuscript suggests, it was most likely intended for and read by someone in a Carolingian monastery, who might never go to Rome in person. In other words, the audience was an outsider, who may never see Rome with the own eyes. Interestingly, the manuscript allows such a reader to make a movement, as it were, entering the city after having approached it from the outside. The Wall Description most clearly evokes the outsider’s perspective with which such a reader may approach the city. It provides a description of the Aurelian wall, starting from the Porta S. Petri and then turning in clockwise direction, including a summary of the amounts of towers, battlements, windows, and latrines between the various towers. The references to the battlements (propugnacula) and latrines (necessariae) betray an outsider’s perspective. They were usually located on the landward side of the wall, the battlements facing the possible enemy, and the latrines so that they could be released outside the city. This implies an outsider view: the battlements and latrines could only be seen when standing outside the city wall.

Despite the outsiders’ perspective in the Wall Description, however, Rome is not presented as an object beyond reach in the Pfäfers manuscript. This is particularly evident in the Itinerarium. Its remarkable three-column layout is an instrument for the reader to go on an imaginary journey through Rome. Reading the names of the monuments in the various columns, the reader imagines the location of the monuments in the physical reality.⁶⁸ In this way, the Itinerarium allows the reader to adopt the insider’s perspective and to experience the city from within. The effect is strengthened by the cross-connections between the Itinerarium and other writings in the manuscript: several places recorded in the itineraries recur in the Sylloge and the Ordo Romanus as the site of inscriptions or rituals. The headings preceding various inscriptions in the Sylloge make it possible to find a particular monument more quickly and make cross-references with the Itinerarium.⁶⁹ Reading the Sylloge and Ordo Romanus, the reader gets insight in the couleur locale of the landscape traversed in the Itinerarium, without actually going there in person.

This interpretation fits the monastic context for which the Pfäfers manuscript was most likely intended. In her book The Craft of Thought: Meditation, Rhetoric, and the Making of Images, 400–1200, Mary Carruthers makes a connection between imagination and monastic meditation, highlighting the importance of ‘pictures’ (picturae) as instruments for reflection in medieval monastic traditions of the West and East. Aligning with ancient rhetorical theory about the act of remembering (memoria), monks used pictures to reflect on the order of the world, history, and, as the ultimate goal, God and his role in creation and history. Picturae could be real, material images, such as the famous Plan of St. Gall, a Carolingian production from the first decades of the ninth century (Fig. 5). It may have been used by monks as an aid to learn about the spaces of a monastery and meditate on their internal order.⁷⁰ Picturae could also be imaginary: images in the mind that someone could conjure up, for instance, during study or prayer.⁷¹ Both types of picturae had mnemotechnic power. By going through the different parts of the picture one by one, the monk could recall the knowledge stored there and contemplate on it.⁷²

Fig. 5

Plan of St. Gall, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. Sang. 1092 (Photograph from Wikimedia Commons, consulted online on September 9, 2022, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plan_of_Saint_Gall#/media/File:Codex_Sangallensis_1092_recto.jpg. Licence CC-PD-1.0)

Originating from a similar monastic context, the Itinerarium Einsidlense and Pfäfers manuscript as a whole may have had a similar meditational function. Although it is not a real ‘image’ (pictura), the Itinerarium has image-like qualities, conveying the position of the monuments in the real space by means of the textual layout. The peculiar three-column way of presentation allows the reader to become a spectator and to see at once where the monuments are located in real space. Reading the inscriptions, the reader is invited to reflect on Rome, its rituals and the urban landscape in which they take place. As in the case of the Sylloge, no distinction is made between classical and Christian monuments in the Itinerarium: references to the Roman Forum, arches, and aqueducts are intermingled with mentions of churches and deaconries. All get an aura of sanctity, functioning as landmarks or stations in the processions. The reader may make cross-connections between the various Roman-centred writings and reflect on the image of Rome presented in the manuscript: a resource of knowledge and learning, which can be used for various purposes, both secular and spiritual.

7 Rome Brought Home: Concluding Remarks

The image of Rome evoked in the Pfäfers manuscript is both traditional and contextually determined. Like the examples discussed at the beginning of the article, Rome is conceived in an abstract manner, as a repository of learning encompassing the whole of knowledge that the city has produced in classical and post-classical times. ‘Rome’ becomes a concept or ‘idea’ that carries symbolic meaning, expressing imperial power and authority.

At the same time, the image of Rome depicted cannot be fully understood without considering the context of origin and use of the Pfäfers manuscript: the Carolingian world and its monasteries. The image of Rome evoked in the manuscript is impacted by the interests and needs of the monastic community in which the Pfäfers manuscript was created and initially read. In keeping with the Carolingians’ broader interest in renovatio, Rome is used as a model of imitation and emulation that can be used at several levels: that of imperial ideology, in which the Carolingian empire was seen as the successor to the Roman empire; schooling, in which classical and post-classical literature set the standard of good literature; and liturgy, in which the Roman rite was considered as the most authoritative model for liturgical renewal. Besides providing an image of Rome with pertinent meanings for a Carolingian audience, the manuscript takes on a meditational function which was particularly relevant for the monastic reader. It allowed him to enter Rome as it were and to experience it from the inside without ever going there. The manuscript was a means to bring Rome home.

Thus, while it is unlikely that the manuscript was ever intended as a travel guidebook for a pilgrimage in the real city of Rome, it did have a practical function, as a handbook in the teaching of grammar and reading (for which the Sylloge and Einsiedeln Anthology would have been particularly useful), as an overview of Roman rites, and as a meditative tool, guiding the readers’ thoughts about God, history, and the order of creation. After all, the Itinerarium did have guidebook functions, but differently from what often is supposed. These functions, and the broader significance of the image of Rome outlined in the manuscript, can only be fully determined by reading the book against the context for which it was most likely created: that of a monastery in the Carolingian world.