Charles IV was obsessed with collecting holy relics whether by smarmy smiles, bribery or down-right theft. However, a special role was played by the Royal Relics, which assisted Charles in the creation of himself as a sacral king.
In 1365, Charles IV travelled to Arles in order to be crowned as king of Burgundy. By this act he finally succeeded in positioning himself as king of all the different realms, traditionally covered by the imperial sovereignty – Germany, Bohemia, Lombardy and Burgundy.
The political events surrounding this act were typical for Charles IV. First of all, he naturally took part in negotiations with Urban V concerning such pressing issues as the return of the Pope to Rome. Secondly, he was able to impress on the French king that Burgundy was not a region subject to French sovereignty. Further, he was also shoring up his relations with the Count of Savoy, who had been one of his close supporters since the mid-50s. In 1361, the Emperor had thus managed to slice Savoy out of the jurisdictional sphere of Burgundy and establish it as a direct imperial dominion. By this act, he was able to appoint the Count as his immediate vassal in Savoy as well as parts of Burgundy. The count was also appointed vicar general to the bishoprics in Savoy as well as elsewhere. There is no doubt, the Count of Savoy was a cherished co-worker and partner.
On the way back, Charles thus stayed as a guest with the Count in Chambéry. From there he went on to Geneva. Here, he sent most of his baggage train and royal entourage on to Lausanne, while he embarked on a slight detour up the Rhône Valley to the very ancient monastery of Saint-Maurice at Agaune. This trip is recorded in a number of local chronicles and we know precisely what the king was after.
When asked, he said – according to Jean Cabaret d’Orville, who later (1417 -19) wrote a chronicle for the Counts of Savoy – that he “wished to visit the grave of one of his ancestors, the pious king of Burgundy Sigismund” († 524). However, there is no doubt the plan was wider than just a pious wish to visit the place. Charles was on a hunt for ancestral relics.
When Charles arrived around the 21st of June he met with the Abbot and confronted him with the wish to lay his hands on the relics of Sigismund in order to take them back to Prague. According to the chronicle, the Abbot claimed that he did not know the exact whereabouts of the relics, but that he might of course guide the Emperor to the ancient church, in which they were supposedly kept. Not to be stopped, Charles IV then proceeded – armed with a guidebook in the form of a vita – to the church where he apparently was able to locate the exact spot; to the deep-felt chagrin of the abbot, who could but look on while the emperor organised a team to break down the wall in order to recover the remains of the Burgundian king and his two sons. At this the chronicle tells us, the monks and priests spontaneously began to sing and pray, while the Emperor fell to his knees praying in the dust of the crypt.
After this event, we know that Charles was “allowed” by the Bishop, the Abbot, the Canons, the Count and also some burghers from the local town to take with him the skull and half the skeleton of St. Sigismund. Next day, the emperor was further able to expropriate the axe and an arm of St. Mauritius, the famous leader of the rebellion of the Theban Christians and subsequent martyr. However, it is definitely significant – as Martin Bauch writes – that the Emperor was not so much interested in the remains of this – in terms of general fame – much more important saint.
Laden with his treasure, which was authenticated by the Abbot in a letter still kept in the archives in Prague, the Emperor now returned to his city after having promised the monastery and the local church in Saint-Maurice at Agaune ample compensation; later building sprees probably witness to this generosity.
At arrival in Prague in August, Charles IV orchestrated a whole series of activities intended to raise the awareness of this new acquisition to the collection of “royal saintly relics”. At arrival, the relics were carried in a procession through Prague to St. Vitus, where a special chapel erected on the North side was rededicated to house the new saint. Later followed the actual translation of the relics to the altar of this chapel, which occupies a prominent space directly opposite the chapel of St. Wencelaus to the south. It was obvious that Charles intended to have the new royal saint included in the official pantheon of Bohemian patron saints. The question is, what was he up to?
Royal and Ancestral Relics
There is no doubt Charles was excessively obsessed with literally laying his hands on saintly relics wherever he was able to acquire bits and pieces. In a detailed inventory Martin Bauch has provided a list of more than 600 relics, which were kept in Prague at the time of Charles IV. Devotion to these relics were for many of them accompanied with papal absolution and they were of no uncertain value as to the income they generated from pilgrimage and trade.
However, the story about the retrieval of St. Sigismund helps us to understand that this obsession with relics was not just a cynical way of procuring a certain status for Prague and Bohemia. In that case, the emperor had hardly invested so much in the retrieval of a saint, who until then had been of obviously insignificance. Rather, he would have claimed the contents of the shrine of St. Maurice, a much more well-known saint. Nor can we see it as just a reflection of the Emperor’s personal late-medieval spirituality. Had this been the case, the king might presumably have kept his newly acquired relics in a less public space and for his own consumption. What, he did was quite the opposite. The new saintly relics was obviously shared with the public in the same way as a number of other relics, foremost the relics of St. Wenceslas and the imperial insignia, which were said to stem from Charlemagne. It is evident that the determination with which St. Sigismund became included in this programme for imperial public veneration had to do with the fact that the remains belonged to that very specific category of royal relics, which might lend a certain aura to Charles. What he venerated – and invested so much in having the public venerate – where particular relics from a specific pantheon peopled by holy individuals, which he regarded as not only saints but also personal ancestors. In this way Charles was able to consider himself as not just personally appointed or chosen by God to reign (by the grace of God). He was able to identify with an especially venerable list of ancestors, which were both saints and kings; through this kinship and by this fictive inheritance he was able to stage himself as a righteous and sacral king vested with both spiritual and earthly powers. This was carried out not just through the staging of coronations, the wearing of specific crowns and regalia or the participation in religious ceremonies, but also (perhaps even more) through the public staging of his spiritual ancestry.
Charles IV was without doubt a deft politician and perhaps a master of spin. However, there is also no doubt he considered the power, he was vested with, as granted by God. In this sense he operated as a sacral king living in a world supporting and supported by the Catholic Church and expressed through the harnessing of a huge number of relics. Of these, the royal relics were of the utmost importance as they specifically linked him with a long line of “ sacred ancestors”, from which he claimed descent and harvested aura. Never mind that he in fact stemmed from a group of very minor lords from the frontier region between France and Germany, the House of Luxemburg! It is obvious that Charles was in his early youth treated with marked despect. For instance, his first coronation as King of the Romans could not take place in Aachen as custom was, but was relocated to Bonn, and for a long time large parts of the empire obviously regarded Charles IV as an usurper bent on grabbing power from his competition, the ruling Emperor, Louis IV. Charles knew that legitimacy had to be both earned and created.
In this, he acted perhaps not much differently from those Anglo-Saxon kings, who created phantasmagorical genealogies with Odin at the pinnacle; or when the warriors of Roviana in the Solomon Islands collected and exhibited ancestral skulls, in which they believed that their Mana resided.
SOURCES:
Remembering Bohemia’s Forgotten Patron Saint.
By David C. Mengel
In: Bohemian Reformation and Religious Practice (2007) Vol. 6, pp. 17 – 32
Divina favente clemencia. Auserwählung, Frömmigkeit and Helisvermittlung in der Herrschaftspraxis Kaiser Karls IV.
By Martin Bauch
Series: Forschungen zur Kaiser-und Papstgeschichte des Mittelaleters. Beihefte zu J. F. Böhmer, Regesta Imperi, vol 36.
Bölau Verlag 2015
ISBN: 978-3-412-22374-8
FEATURED PHOTO:
After his return to Prague Charles the IV sired his last son, who was born in 1368 – the later King of Bohemia and Holy Roman Emperor. It is significant, he was baptised Sigismund. This Fresco was painted in the Cathedral in Constance during the Council of Constance, where Jan Hus was burned on the stage.