The aristocracy of the Erikskrönikan differs markedly from that of the sagas. While in the latter, the ruling class consists of popular leaders, its counterpart in the former has become an elite, whose ideology and values find expression in the chronicle: the focus now is on pomp, magnificence, and chivalry. This conforms to actual developments in contemporary Sweden. On the other hand, the chronicle has even less in common with the bureaucratic elements of the later sagas and thus represents a return to the classical saga. War and dramatic events are depicted directly and vividly, without much in the way of explanation or analysis. However, the author is more present than in the sagas, often commenting on good or bad acts, particularly towards the end of the work where he deplores the dukes’ tragic fate and condemns Birger to hell. Moreover, the dukes are not only chivalrous heroes but also astute politicians; the author delights in their cleverness in hiding their movements so as to take Birger by complete surprise at Håtuna.
Although the rise and decline of historical literature is to some extent independent of historical reality, there seems to be some pattern in its timing in Scandinavia in the Middle Ages. The establishment of kingdoms was, it would seem, a stimulus to historical writing. There was clearly a need to trace the origins of one’s own people after the conversion to Christianity, and to give an appropriate explanation of the latter. This motive is prominent both in Saxo and Snorri, as well as in other early works. It is also significant that Scandinavian historiography is for the most part heavily dynastic, this in accord with the importance of the dynasties in the development of the kingdoms. The longer works are normally organized according to the reigns of the kings. Such dynastic historiography was very important during the early consolidation of the dynasty, but became less so as a dynasty was more firmly established. Moreover, the particular style of the sagas (and to some extent also the style of Saxo), focusing on individual interests and competition in which the best man won, was more suited to the competitive society of the period before the mid-thirteenth century than to the ordered hierarchy of the following period. Finally, periods of conflict are more likely to stimulate historical writing than periods of peace. This may serve to explain the decline of historiography after the consolidation of the kingdoms, although there must have been enough conflict in Denmark in the period between 1241 and 1340 to stimulate more historical writing than the few, brief chronicles that have been preserved from this period.
Against this background, Sweden seems to be an exception. However, as the consolidation of the Swedish monarchy was late, the Erikskrönikan shows some similarity with early works in the other countries. The chronicle mainly deals with the dynasty descended from Earl Birger, who became the real ruler of Sweden around 1250 and whose descendants became kings after his death in 1266. In addition, of course, the dramatic events of the early fourteenth century were a great stimulus to historical writing. The chronicle is also the expression of the ideology of the rising aristocracy. This ideological aspect is equally prominent in the later Swedish chronicles, which are products of the troubled fifteenth century, when Sweden opposed the Kalmar Union, entered into in 1397 by the three Scandinavian kingdoms and dominated by Denmark. This is the clearest example in Scandinavia of historiography as propaganda.
Political Thought
The writing of history is a prime example of intellectual culture in the service of the monarchy in Scandinavia. In addition, the king, as we have seen above, made extensive use of educated people in his administration, who formulated the doctrine of the king as God’s representative on earth, responsible for the welfare of the people, and embedded that doctrine in charters and other documents as well as in oral propaganda. From the late thirteenth century on, we also find explicit discussions of the relationship between the king and the “people,” by which is meant in practice mainly the aristocracy. In the rest of Europe, there was an increasing volume of formal treatises discussing such questions, notably from the second half of the thirteenth century onwards, and traces of their influence are to be found in Scandinavia. We can distinguish three phases of this literature. The first includes the pamphlets from the Investiture Contest in the late eleventh and early twelfth century, discussing the relationship between the monarchy and the Church but also formulating some principles of royal government. The second phase begins with the revival of the genre of the “mirrors of princes,” around the middle of the twelfth century, which detail the virtues proper to a king and give advice on good government. The genre persisted until the end of the Middle Ages, but it changed character under the influence of Aristotle, after his Politics was translated in the 1260s, a milestone that marks the beginning of the third phase. Royal government was now seen against the background of a theory of society, and the division of power between the king and the people became the subject of explicit debate: Should the king rule with independent power (regimen regale), or should he share power with the people (regimen politicum)? In practice, the difference between these doctrines was often expressed in the attitude taken to dynastic succession; that is, to the question of whether the king should inherit his throne or be elected by the people. The first work of this kind was Thomas Aquinas’ De regno, written probably around 1270.
All three phases can be found in Scandinavia, but the volume of explicit theoretical literature is rather limited. The main example of the first phase is the Norwegian anti-clerical pamphlet A Speech against the Bishops. Written around 1200, during King Sverre’s conflict with the Church, it uses the Church’s own law, Gratian’s Decretum, to argue for the king’s control of the Church as well as of society in general. The author shows familiarity with his source and considerable rhetorical skill, appealing directly to his audience to prove the obvious truth of his conclusions, with expressions such as, “Everyone to whom God has given a minimum of intelligence must understand …”. The main representative of the second phase is The King’s Mirror, also Norwegian, which has been referred to several times already. Its third part resembles earlier and contemporary mirrors of princes in dealing with the king’s virtues, notably with how he should exercise his power of judgment, which in the author’s opinion is a king’s main duty. This discussion is closely related to reforms in jurisdiction and legislation that took place at the time. However, the author also deals extensively with the king’s power, in a way that foreshadows the later doctrine of regimen regale. He regards the monarchy as hereditary, strongly emphasizes the obedience that his subjects owe to the king, and insists that he can only be judged by God, not by men. Here, however, he gives no hint of any influence from Aristotle. His doctrine is derived instead from theology, notably from the Old Testament: the king’s power is grounded in his relationship with God, not on a theory of society. Aristotelian influence is strongly present, however, in the anonymous Swedish tract, On the Government of Kings and Princes. This work contains quotations from Aristotle as well as a number of other authorities. Large parts of it are also based on Aegidius Romanus’ De regimine principum of around 1280, a work deeply influenced by Aristotle, which develops his theory in a strongly monarchist vein. Aegidius argues in favor of hereditary monarchy, a doctrine that is taken over in the Swedish adaptation, despite the fact that Sweden had been officially declared an elective monarchy in 1319. On the Government of Kings and Princes probably has its origin in courtly circles and may have been intended for the education of the young Magnus Eriksson (1320s) or of his sons, Erik and Håkon (1340s). There are no formal treatises of a similar kind later, but royal government has an important place in Birgitta’s revelations, which contain admonitions to King Magnus, and later, after he failed to heed her advice, support for Magnus’s aristocratic opponents as well.
Judging from these theoretical works, one might think that regimen regale had strong support in Scandinavia in the thirteenth and early fourteenth century. This was the case in Norway, but hardly in the two other countries, where various attempts at limiting the king’s power were made in this and the following perio
d, notably in the election charters. Given the extensive contacts between Scandinavia and European centers of learning there is every reason to suspect that these documents were influenced by the contemporary reception of Aristotle’s political thought, but as they mostly confine themselves to making detailed and specific demands of the king, this is difficult to prove. However, a 1281 Norwegian propaganda letter issued by the regency government for King Eirik and Duke Håkon during the conflict with the Church and addressed to all sysselmann gives a hint in this direction. The two rulers begin by thanking all good men who have been obedient and loyal to the monarchy during their own reign as well as those of their predecessors and express their confidence that this will continue. However, they have heard a rumor that they find difficult to believe. It seems that some clerics and even laymen want to deny them their due obedience and loyalty by failing to pay fines and contribute to the defense of the country. If this proves true, there will once more be petty kings in the country. The text then goes on:
… and we and the good men who act as our counselors find that if we will uphold the king’s name and the honor of the crown, we will only let those people remain and live in the country who will act as our loyal subjects and obey our commands. And those who will shrink from this, let them go where they need to belong to nobody but themselves, nor have any power, whatever kind of people they are.
The two rulers conclude by declaring that they will grant both clerics and laymen the same freedom as in the reigns of their predecessors, despite the unprecedented threats that now face them.
The letter is composed with considerable rhetorical skill. Thanking the subjects for their loyalty and obedience serves as an appeal for continued support as well as a contrast to the description of the clergy that follows, while the rulers’ pretended disbelief underlines the enormity of the clerics’ behavior and prepares for the final climax in which the clerics exclude themselves from human society. Furthermore, the regents allude to several important arguments that support the power and independence of the monarchy. The term “honor of the crown” had long played an important part in the defense of the monarchy and shows a clear awareness of its character as an institution. The greatest novelty, however, is the final line of the quote, about the disobedient clerics excluding themselves from society. This is an echo of the Aristotelian doctrine of man as a social animal, according to which human beings can only live a good life in a larger community. This doctrine was in in contemporary political thought used as a defense of organized society under the leadership of the king. Thus, the two rulers imply that the clerics, by their disobedience, act against nature, and that they therefore cannot live in society but have to go where there is no community, no ruler and no ruled, in other words, to the wilderness and anarchy.
The Courtly Culture
Although not prominent in historical writings, courtly and aristocratic culture is represented in the Scandinavian countries by translations of European chivalrous literature and in songs and poetry. The translations began in the 1220s at the Norwegian court, when one Brother Robert, probably an English monk, translated Chretien de Troyes’s Tristan et Iseu into Old Norse. A series of other romances and heroic tales, including Marie de France’s twelfth-century Lais, named Strengleikar in Old Norse, were translated in the following period, both at King Håkon Håkonsson’s court in Norway and in Iceland. A later collection of chants from the early fourteenth century is associated with Håkon V’s German Queen Eufemia (d. 1312). A series of ballads, performed by local singers in the countryside and written down in the nineteenth century, is usually considered to have originated in the Middle Ages. It seems paradoxical that this courtly culture is best known from Norway and seems to have developed first in this country, the least aristocratic of the three kingdoms. There are in the narrative sources occasional references to singers performing ballads on contemporary events, such as a German singer dealing with the murder of King Erik Klipping. There are also a large number of Danish ballads transcribed in the sixteenth century, which are usually believed to have a medieval origin. Thus, there do exist a variety of literary expressions of Scandinavia’s aristocratic culture, although considerably less than for its religious counterpart.
Corresponding to the composition and import of romantic and chivalrous literature and the more elite character of the court and the aristocracy, there is evidence as well of new norms and patterns of behavior in courtly circles. The clearest example of this is The King’s Mirror. In it, for example, we find the Father urging the Son to address the king and great men in the plural and himself in the singular, a custom that was introduced at this time. The use of different pronouns for addressing different categories of people—or at least the attempt to establish such a custom—clearly signals a heightened awareness of hierarchy. An even greater change was the rule that a man should take off his cloak when appearing before the king. The Son finds this ridiculous, pointing out that if anyone did this among ordinary people, he would be considered a fool. He demands an explanation, and the Father gives three. One is purely practical and thus less interesting from our point of view: a cloak can conceal a weapon intended to be used against the king. Of the two remaining examples, the first has to do with hierarchy: taking off one’s cloak means that one is willing to serve. The second—which in fact comes first in the author’s presentation—is simply that this is done by good and noble people, and that one must follow their example if one wishes to be included in fashionable society, an answer that is also to be found in more recent discussions on such matters. It tells us that dress, custom, manners, etc., serve as symbols that distinguish the elite from ordinary people. The more pronounced this distinction, the greater the class difference.
Figure 19. Wall painting of a hunting scene, Höjby Church (Zealand, Denmark), c. 1380–1400. National Museum, Denmark. The religious motive is sudden death, which may strike the young and healthy as well as the old and sick. Death, depicted as a naked man sitting on an ox, aims his bow at the elegantly dressed aristocratic hunter, riding a strong and beautiful horse and carrying a falcon on his arm. Photo: Nationalmuseet, Danmark.
The King’s Mirror also discusses fashions in dress, hair, and beard styles. The Father refers to German customs and clearly implies that fashions change and that it is important to keep abreast of them—although he finds it difficult to imagine that there will ever be a fashion more suitable than that of the present day. The importance of fashion is further demonstrated by a later source. In his great statute of 1308, issued in a moment of crisis and intended to secure the king full control over his men, King Håkon V strictly forbids anyone to introduce new fashions into the kingdom, threatening his own men with the loss of their aristocratic rank and his own friendship if they should do so. It is an important royal prerogative to be the trendsetter in such matters, and the king’s men show their loyalty by following him. In a similar way, fashion serves to distinguish the king and his men from the rest of the population.
The use of fashion to set them apart evidently aims at creating a stronger sense of solidarity between the king’s men and is in keeping with the king’s aim of putting an end to internal conflicts. Some further rules more directly serve this purpose. The organization of the king’s retainers (the hird) consists of different ranks, and it is important for each man to know his own place in the system. When these men are in the king’s company, they should arrange themselves so that there is an equal number on each side of him. They have their fixed seats at the table, two together, and these two should also wash their hands together before the meal. They should walk to the table in the same order as their seats. At the table they should engage in quiet conversation, keeping their attention always directed towards the king, in case he should require some service from them. And they should show moderation in drinking, taking care not to get drunk. This latter admonition is particularly significant. Although warnings against excessive drinking can be found long before the examples in The King’s Mirror, drin
king parties were an essential part of the culture of traditional kingship. They served to put the king and his men on equal ground of a sort, although at the same time they were competitive. These were the occasions when a man had to show how much he was able to drink while keeping his wits about him so that he could still tell a good story or respond to a verbal challenge, and it was here that the deeds of the participants and other men were discussed and evaluated.
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