Название: Hastening Toward Prague
Автор: Lisa Wolverton
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: История
Серия: The Middle Ages Series
isbn: 9780812204223
isbn:
A look back at the early twelfth century and the Vršovici, a large group of men, women, and children from across Bohemia summarily massacred in 1108, serves as a potent reminder of the inadequacies and dangers of these collective designations.28 The term “Vršovici” was indisputably a medieval one, but we have no means of determining its origin. No man is known in the sources as “Vrš” or “Vršov.” No pattern of names appears among the men mentioned by Cosmas, nor are many blood relationships indicated.29 Božej and Mutina, identified as Vršovici and as “relatives,” were sufficiently influential that, according to Cosmas, Duke Bořivoj felt obliged to allow their return from exile and reinstate them as castellans of Žatec and Litoměřice; this was patently an act of appeasement in an effort to shore up his rule.30 It is impossible, however, to assess the power wielded by them, or its foundation. Božej’s land, or at least his residence, was at Libice in eastern Bohemia while “all” the possessions of Mutina’s uncle, Němoj, granted to the chapter at Vyšehrad, lay scattered in central Bohemia31 (Map 2). For Cosmas, the Vršovici were the quintessential domestic enemies, men of prominence whom he blamed for specific acts of violence against dukes both at the turn of the eleventh century and at the beginning of the twelfth. He describes them with equal frequency as a gens or a natio, and once as a generatio; in the duke’s naming them as “the enemies of our gens,” it is not clear whether gens indicates his lineage or all the Czechs. The Vršovici are the only men who played a significant role in Czech political life—such as Kojata, Zderad, Vacek, Načerat, Marquard, Hrabiše—who are explicitly identified or associated with a group.32 Yet we know little beyond speculation about the basis for their collective identity, or how it translated into influence of the sort that Dukes Bořivoj and then Svatopluk perceived as a powerful threat. The best we can assume is that the Vršovici were a large kin group, often in the inner circle of the duke or other Přemyslid, conscious of an ancient lineage and retaining a measure of group solidarity; although there is little evidence of their acting in concert, it is clear that the duke saw this as a dangerous possibility, and that they were easily identified by their murderers.33 Thus, the Vršovici—while undoubtedly exceptional—exemplify all that cannot be known about the eleventh and twelfth century freemen, even the most influential.
Map 2. Vršovici lands.
The same care is required for questions of ethnicity as for kinship or identity. We must be cautious, in other words, about classifying persons with German names as ethnically German. There is little doubt that many people immigrated to the Czech Lands from German-speaking regions—and elsewhere—and some rose to great prominence. Although many laymen of the eleventh and twelfth centuries with obviously German names appear to have been immigrants, nothing specific is known of their origins, much less about what German ethnicity or identity meant to them. As with one of the Hroznatas, the son of Hermann, or the sons of Marquard, named Hermann, Zaviše, and Gall, a German name is often linked with a clearly Slavic one. Probably, at some time, a German and a Czech were married and their children bear names from both ethnic groups, or simply from both sides of the family, and such names continued to be passed down among descendants. Some names appear frequently so we cannot be sure whether the name itself had simply become common, for example, Hermann or Marquard; this is further true for German names used by Přemyslid dynasts, particularly Oldřich (Ulrich), and with the names of Christian saints, such as Henry. For the majority of laymen, there is often no way to determine whether they were indeed born and raised in a German-speaking land before coming to the Czech Lands or, more important, what connections they maintained with relatives and friends there.34
In reference to freemen, twelfth-century chroniclers routinely use comparative nouns, describing men, both individuals and groups, simply as “those more noble,” “wiser” or just “better” (nobiliores, saniores, meliores), or speaking of “the elder” and “the younger.” Thus, the written sources eschew altogether designations reflecting legal conditions of status, kinship, or titular rank. Because seniores is regularly juxtaposed against iuniores, moreover, there is little doubt that the term had nothing to do with lordship (like French seigneur). To be “elder” probably did not indicate any specific or even advanced age, but instead a combination of maturity, prowess, wealth and wisdom, respect, and experience that set them apart. Distinctions between iuniores and seniores primarily differentiate those eager to make their name, increase their wealth, and occupy positions of prominence, and men who had already done so. Neither narrative nor documentary sources indicate that social categories—outside free and unfree—were legally defined, ranked objectively, or hierarchically arranged as “orders.” It is crucially important not to overinterpret, institutionalize, or generate rigid social categories from Cosmas’s oft-cited remark that “all the Czechs of the first and second rank loved [Soběslav I] and supported his cause,” for it simply expresses this same broad, comparative distinction among the leading men of the realm.35 Nobiliores appears far more frequently than nobiles, a word used most often to head lists of witnesses in charters—akin to but less common than primates, optimates, comites, or, once, the Czech term, župané (equivalent to comites). Here again we get the clear impression that comites broadly signified “better” men, as primates generally did “leaders” among the freemen.
In charters from the mid-twelfth century testifying to their donations to or foundations of ecclesiastical institutions, freemen identify themselves in the same relative terms. Miroslav, founder of a Cistercian monastery on his extensive lands at Sedlec in the mid-twelfth century, was styled merely “one of the leading men of Bohemia” (“quidam de primatibus Boemie”).36 The foundation charter of 1197 for Teplá likewise opens: “I Hroznata, by the grace of God, descending from one of the more illustrious lines of the leaders of Bohemia … ” (“Ego Hroznata dei gratia de primatum Boemie clariori stemate descendens”).37 Such phrases, applied to specific individuals—even by a magnate of himself—affirm the inherent fluidity of differences within the ranks of Czech freemen, including those among the “leading men” or the descendents of “more illustrious lineages.” Outside their membership in such a loose collection of prominent individuals, men like Hroznata and Miroslav stand relatively isolated in these documents. While both make provisions for their immediate families in the body of the grant (their sisters and, in Miroslav’s case, his children), neither mentions his parents. Hroznata’s charter bears his personal seal, СКАЧАТЬ