Ethnic Identity, Memory, and Use of the Past in Italy’s ‘Dark Ages’

Luigi Andrea Berto

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN: 9781032101019
• eBook ISBN: 9781000549898
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: European Medieval History
• Index: History

This volume examines the Italian peninsula in the early Middle Ages by focusing on research fields such as ethnic identity, memory, and use of the past. Particular attention is devoted to the way some authors were influenced by their own 'present' in their reconstruction of the past.

The political and cultural fragmentation of Italy during the early Middles Ages, created by the Lombards' invasion of a part of the Peninsula in the late-sixth century and early-seventh century, Charlemagne's conquest of a part of the Lombard Kingdom in 774, and by the weakening of the Byzantine Empire in the eighth and ninth centuries, make this part of Europe a special area for exploring continuities and discontinuities between the Roman and the post-Roman periods in Western Europe. Across the volume, Berto examines the problems that the features of primary sources and their scarcity pose to their interpretations.

Ethnic Identity, Memory, and Use of the Past in Italy's 'Dark Ages' is the ideal resource for upper level undergraduates, postgraduates, and scholars interested in the relationship between Italy and Europe during the Middle Ages.

1ETHNIC IDENTITIES

DOI: 10.4324/​9781003213659-2

In a paper delivered at a conference in 2002, Walter Pohl began his talk on ethnic identities in the Lombard duchies of Spoleto and Benevento by wondering about what it meant to write ‘Lupus Langobardus’¹ on a column of the monastery of St. Vincent at Volturno—i.e. in the Beneventan area—in the first half of the ninth century.² Since that period was subsequent to the end of the Lombard Kingdom (774), at a time when the Duchy of Benevento had become an independent principality,³ it seems clear that the Austrian historian chose to begin with a period subsequent to the end of the Lombard domination of Italy. The question is certainly a pertinent one, because it speaks to the crucial issue of the exact nature of the identity of those living in a zone never conquered by the Franks. It is moreover an intriguing case because, as pointed out by Pohl himself, that is the sole name, among the many others engraved in other places in that abbey, that included an ethnic qualification. Nothing else is known about this person and we cannot therefore say whether he was, for instance, a monk of St. Vincent or a visitor. The fact that this Lupus happened to be in a Lombard area ought to make us wonder what could have persuaded him to describe himself in that way. Likewise, in the present day, you would need to have a very good reason for writing a piece of graffiti in which, if you happen to be in Italy or Venice, and you are Italian or Venetian, you choose to specify such an affiliation.

The Viennese medievalist, however, seems not to notice the issues raised by focusing on this example, and indeed states that it is not unthinkable that a monk should call himself a Lombard. He points out that it was precisely in that monastery in the 780s that a renowned conflict flared up between Lombard monks and Frankish monks, during the course of which the allegiance of the Lombards to Charlemagne, the recent conqueror of the Lombard Kingdom (774), had been called into question. It is worth remembering that St. Vincent at Volturno was indeed located in an area not occupied by the Franks, but Charlemagne had attempted to make use of that monastery as a bridgehead from which to control the area of Benevento. He had not merely tried to establish a counterweight to the ‘spiritual power’ of Montecassino,⁴ but had further attempted, thanks to the donations of lands made by the local aristocracy to St. Vincent, to create a full-fledged thorn in the side of the rulers of Benevento.

The conflict to which the Viennese historian refers occurred in a very tense period. Along with the recent demise of the Lombard Kingdom and Charlemagne’s pressure on the Principality of Benevento, there were also the elections of abbots of Frankish origins (in Montecassino in 777/778 and at St. Vincent al Volturno in 777). In those years, the Frankish influence, therefore, appeared to be unstoppable, but not everything worked according to Charlemagne’s plans. At St. Vincent, the Frankish abbot resigned his post at the end of 778, a likely indicator of tensions within the monastery. Those tensions burst into the open in 783 under Abbot Poto.⁵ According to his accusers, Poto gave clear evidence of his dislike for the new sovereign and, thus, indirectly of his ‘Lombardness’, by refusing to pray for the welfare of Charlemagne and his family and by making uncomplimentary comments about the Franks. The Frankish king weighed in immediately, deposing Poto.

The case, therefore, developed into a hot potato because, in theory, a layman had no right to do such a thing. Still, this was not merely some local aristocrat whose reach exceeded his grasp, and the pope, who had been saved from the Lombards by Charlemagne himself, was certainly not about to excommunicate him; he took great pains to ensure that Poto faced judgment in Rome by a papal commission. The pontiff managed to calm the waters. The ‘hot-headed’ abbot was restored to his position only after his loyalty to the Frankish king had been vouched for by an oath sworn by ten of the most highly respected monks of St. Vincent. Five were Lombards, while the other five were Franks.⁶ In that period, even the members of a monastic community preserved their own ‘ethnic identity’, and were willing to bring it to bear at critical moments.

Once he has ‘thrown the rock’, Pohl lost all interest in the implications of that conflict and its value in terms of formulating a methodological approach to devising a plausible hypothesis about what might have led Lupus to describe himself as he did. For example, one could argue that Lupus felt the need to emphasize his origin in a place like St. Vincent on which the Franks had a great influence.

After dismissing the author of the ninth-century graffito with the observation that ‘it comes as no surprise to find a Lombard who was conscious of this identity in St. Vincent at Volturno in the ninth century’,⁷ the Austrian medievalist focuses on what he cares about most. In fact, he states that:

according to popular opinion, the Lombards were Germanic warriors with long beards, they spoke a Germanic language, they brought with them to Italy their own rather crude and barbaric culture, their own customs… and at first they were also pagans who believed that their northern god Wotan had given them their name.⁸ Lupus, who called himself a Lombard, does not fit in particularly well with this image. Of course, there is no longer any trace of paganism, given that he engraved his own name in a monastery with a cross. We do not know what language he spoke, but there is no mistaking the language he wrote: Latin. Even his name is Latin… Not even the law constitutes a certain clue to Lupus’s Lombard identity: if he was a monk, he might very well have professed the Roman law. A monk named Lupus might not even had a long beard, except in accordance with the tradition of bearded Christian ascetics, and he would have worn an outfit that marked him as separate from laymen, but not from Romans. Nonetheless, in his inscription Lupus highlighted his Lombard identity. Certainly with Lupus we are already in the years following the fall of the Lombard Kingdom. There can be no doubt that the lives of the Lombards in the duchies of Spoleto and Benevento had changed over the course of a long process of acculturation.⁹

First of all, let us take notice of the anything but scholarly use of the expression ‘according to popular opinion’¹⁰ and the erroneous claim that the garb of the monks was identical to that of the Romans. As far as I know, there is no proof that the latter, whether they were inhabitants of Rome or other persons described as ‘Romans’, dressed the way that monks did (Pohl in fact provides no evidence to buttress that claim). In these few lines, moreover, the Viennese medievalist imparts the astonishing discovery that during their two-century stay in Italy the Lombards had undergone numerous transformations. The 23 pages of his essay that follow describe those changes. I have no intention of burdening the reader with a thorough examination of every word written by the Austrian historian; I will limit myself to laying out the main features.

Firstly, we encounter a less-than-rigorous use of sources. In an analysis devoted to the area of Spoleto and Benevento, one should not make use of cases pertaining to other parts of Italy. The absence and the fragmentary nature of sources constitute a problem that every scholar must take into account in the course of her or his research, at the risk of formulating baseless generalizations and giving the impression that one knows everything about a certain topic.

According to Pohl, ‘in the last third of the seventh century, Queen Rodelinda, the wife of Perctarit, ordered the construction of the basilica of D. Maria ad Perticas; that locality outside Pavia was so called because there, iuxta morem Langobardorum poles—or pertiche—were set up there to commemorate the Lombards who died in distant lands. Ibi olim steterant, says Paul the Deacon, therefore the poles were no longer there.’¹¹

To start with, we should point out that what Paul the Deacon actually wrote is different from what Pohl says. Since there is more than one way to read his words, it is worthwhile to provide the full text. ‘Ad Perticas autem locus ipse dicitur, quia ibi olim perticae, id est trabes, erectae steterant. Quae ob hanc causam iuxta morem Langobardorum poni solebant.’¹² Paul the Deacon states that ‘olim perticae… erectae steterant’, which can be literally translated as either ‘there were once poles standing upright’—meaning, therefore, that by the end of the seventh century those poles were gone—or else as ‘at one time a number of poles had been erected.’ If that is what the author of the Historia Langobardorum meant to say, then it is still possible that in the years in question those poles were still there to be seen. Of course, it is impossible for us to say what meaning they had for the inhabitants of that area. We should note in particular that this is a matter concerning the area around Pavia, so it does not necessarily mean that this custom had disappeared from the Lombard Kingdom at large.

The point about how the clothing and hair styles that, according to the account of Paul the Deacon, could be seen in the paintings done at the behest of Queen Theodelinda (589–c. 625)¹³ had already changed before the 720s, period in which the Lombard historian was born, is merely a conjecture on Pohl’s part.¹⁴ It would be more accurate to state that, apart from what we are told by Paul the Deacon, we know nothing either about how widespread those outfits and hairstyle were during that queen’s reign or about who might have chosen to abandon them and who, in contrast, continued to use them.

The tendency to overlook this sort of issue, along with the corresponding habit of wandering off into extended digressions, comes into clearer focus over the course of the Viennese medievalist’s essay. Declaring inadequate the criteria employed to determine ethnic identity by ‘classical ethnographers right up to contemporary sociology’—which is to say, clothing, language, and laws—he underscores that, even while applying such criteria of identification, the Lombards ‘of the ninth century (and even as early as the eighth), can be distinguished far more clearly from the Lombards of the sixth century than they can be distinguished from their Roman contemporaries of the eighth and ninth centuries.’¹⁵

Here, too, the reader is left entirely in the dark. To what Romans is Pohl referring? What studies underscored these resemblances? Just as was the case for the old-fashioned scholars of ethnicity, we are unable to find answers to our questions, because the Austrian medievalist ‘forgets’ to add any notes.¹⁶ The nonexpert is thus left in the dark, unable to figure out what ‘old readings’ are being relied upon, as is an imaginary interested nonexpert who migh...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half-Title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• 1 Ethnic identities
• 2 Identity texts, gender, and ethnicity
• 3 The Lombard invasion and the settlement of the Lombards in Italy
• 4 The frontiers between the Lombard Kingdom and Byzantine Italy
• 5 Memory and the use of the past in Lombard Southern Italy
• 6 Writing a book about the barbarians in Italy during Fascism and reading it from the 1940s to the early 2000s
• 7 Modern history and early medieval history
• Conclusions
• Appendix: The volumes and the essays of ‘Transformation of the Roman World’
• Bibliography
• Index