Joyeuse: The Legendary Sword of Charlemagne

Ancient Origins

The sword of Joyeuse, which today sits in the Louvre Museum, is one of the most famous swords in history. Historical records link the sword to Charlemagne the Great, King of the Franks. If it did indeed belong to the famous king, who reigned some 1,200 years ago, the sword of Joyeuse would have been used in countless coronation ceremonies, and is tied with ancient myth and legend ascribing it with magical powers.

 The story begins in the year 802 AD. Legend states that the sword of Joyeuse, meaning “joyful” in French, was forged by the famous blacksmith Galas, and took three years to complete. The sword was described as having magical powers associated with it. It was said to have been so bright that it could outshine the sun and blind its wielder's enemies in battle, and any person who wielded the legendary sword could not be poisoned. The Emperor Charlemagne, coming back from Spain was said to have set up camp in the region and acquired the sword.

The finely crafted Joyeuse sword (Wikimedia Commons)

Charlemagne (742-814 AD), who was also known as Charles the Great, was king of the Franks and Christian emperor of the West. He did much to define the shape and character of medieval Europe and presided over the Carolingian Renaissance. After the fall of the Roman Empire, he was the first to reunite Western Europe. He ruled a vast kingdom that encompassed what is now France, Germany, Italy, Austria, and the Low Countries, consolidating Christianity through his vast empire through forced conversions. His military ‘accomplishments’ frequently involved extreme brutality, such as the beheading of more than 2,500 Frankish and Saxon village chiefs.

The coronation of Charlemagne by Raphael, c 1515, (Wikimedia Commons)

The 11th century Song of Roland, an epic poem based on the Battle of Roncevaux in 778, describes Charlemagne riding into battle with Joyeuse by his side:

 [Charlemagne] was wearing his fine white coat of mail and his helmet with gold-studded stones; by his side hung Joyeuse, and never was there a sword to match it; its color changed thirty times a day.

One day, during battle, Charlemagne allegedly lost Joyeuse, and promised a reward for anyone who could find it. After several attempts, one of his soldiers brought it to him and Charlemagne kept his promise by saying, “Here will be built an estate of which you will be the lord and master, and your descendants will take the name of my wonderful sword: Joyeuse.” Charlemagne is said to have planted his sword in the ground to mark the point where the town would be built. According to the story, this is the origin of the French town of Joyeuse in Ardèche, which was founded on that spot and named in honor of the sword.

The town of Joyeuse in Ardèche, France (Wikimedia Commons)

There are no historical records to say what happened to the sword Joyeuse after the death of Charlemagne. However, in 1270AD, a sword identified as Joyeuse was used at the coronation ceremony of French King Philip the Bold, which was held in Reims Cathedral, France, and many kings after that. The sword was kept in the nearby monastery in Saint-Denis, a burial place for French kings, where it remained under the protection of the monks until at least 1505.

 Joyeuse was moved to the Louvre on December 5, 1793 following the French Revolution. It was last used by a French king in 1824 with the crowning of Charles X and is the only known sword to have served as the coronation sword of the Kings of France.

King Louis XIV with Joyeuse by Hyacinthe Rigaud, 1701. (Wikimedia Commons)

Today, the Joyeuse is preserved as a composite of various parts added over the centuries of use as coronation sword. The blade is characteristic of the Oakeshott Style XII, which features a broad, flat, evenly tapering blade. The pommel (top fitting) of the sword dates from the 10th and 11th centuries, the cross to the second half of the 12th century, and the grip to the 13th century.

The grip once featured a fleur-de-lis, but was removed for the coronation of Napoleon I in 1804. Two dragons form the cross section and their eyes are of lapis lazuli. The scabbard, also modified, has a velvet sheath embroidered with fleur-de-lis and was added for the coronation of Charles X in 1824. Both sides of the pommel are decorated with a repoussé motif representing birds affrontee, similar to Scandinavian ornaments of the 10th and 11th centuries. The two cross-guards, in the form of stylized winged dragon figures, can be dated to the 12th century. The gold spindle, covered with a diamond net pattern, is believed to be from the 13th or 14th century.

The Joyeuse sword in the Louvre Museum (Wikimedia Commons)

The sword of Joyeuse stands today as a testament to the exceptionally crafted regalia used throughout the centuries. Appearing in the coronations of the Kings of France over the course of hundreds of years has only reinforced its legacy as a symbol of power and authority. It is visually stunning to behold and today, Joyeuse ranks among the most reproduced of any historical sword.

Featured image: Joyeuse, the Sword of Charlemagne (Wikimedia Commons)

References
 O'Neil, Tim. The Legends of Joyeuse. Accessed May 6, 2015. http://www.quora.com/Why-is-Charlemagnes-sword-famous.

Hellqvist, Bjorn. "The Sword of Charlemagne -- MyArmoury.com." The Sword of Charlemagne -- MyArmoury.com. Accessed May 6, 2015. http://www.myarmoury.com/feature_charlemagne.html.

"4 / Ceremony and Society." Art Through Time: A Global View. Accessed May 6, 2015. https://www.learner.org/courses/globalart/work/68/index.html.

Gaudreau, HJ. "The Sword of Charlemagne." BOOKS BY HJ GAUDREAU. July 6, 2013. Accessed May 6, 2015. http://www.hjgaudreau.com/betrayal/the-royal-regalia/the-sword-of-charlegmegne/.

Barclay, Shelly. "The History of Charlemagne's Sword - Joyeuse." Examiner.com. May 28, 2013. Accessed May 6, 2015. http://www.examiner.com/article/the-history-of-charlemagne-s-sword-joyeuse.

By Bryan Hilliard

Charlemagne: creating the myth

History Extra

A 14th-century bust of Charlemagne, kept at Aachen Cathedral. (Sascha Schuermann/Getty Images)

When historical figures are able to captivate the imagination of later generations, resonating with contemporary ideals, values, concerns, or anxieties, they can acquire a mythical status. But what is it exactly that makes particular figures suitable material for later mythmaking? In the case of heavily mythologised figures, the relevance of historical ‘facts’ is often limited. Indeed, too much historical detail actually inhibits mythmaking: somewhat paradoxically, it is precisely the undefined, uncertain and unknown nature of individual figures that accounts for their powerful hold on the collective imagination. The very vagueness of the ideas attached to a particular historical figure allows them to be celebrated, reinvented and re-imagined. It can also see them appropriated for a wide variety of political, ideological, or propagandist purposes.

 Fascination with the figure of Charlemagne (c747–814) provides a striking example of this process of mythmaking. Rather than seeking to recover the historical ‘truth’ from beneath the legend later created around him, it is revealing to examine some little known but intriguing aspects of the mythology itself. Particularly intriguing is the surge of English interest in Charlemagne during the later Middle Ages, specifically at a time of intense Anglo-French conflict: the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453).

Charlemagne is crowned emperor by the pope, as depicted in a 14th-century manuscript. (DeAgostini/Getty Images)

 Early mythologies

 Mythmaking around Charlemagne began during his own lifetime. His concerted effort to shape a new, Christian empire modelled on a Roman precedent was an abstract but extremely potent political vision. As ruler over a vast territory of what later came to be known as the Holy Roman Empire, Charlemagne surrounded himself with numerous clerics, learned men, poets and courtiers from across his ethnically and culturally diverse empire. This ensured the steady production of widespread work celebrating Charlemagne’s vision of empire. This in turn fostered the emergence of a sense of cultural and political identity among Charlemagne’s vassals and subjects.

 The political setbacks experienced by his descendants and successors only reinforced the retrospective idealisation of Charlemagne himself as a figurehead of unity, pan-European Christian peace, stability, and victory over the infidel. Multiple versions of the mythical Charlemagne were conjured up over the following centuries. He was reimagined as a proto-crusader, a charismatic military leader, a new King David, a saintly king and benefactor of the Church and even an apocalyptic king, prophesied to return after death to defeat the forces of Antichrist.

 Reimagining Charlemagne during the Hundred Years’ War
 The figure of Charlemagne continued to inspire later generations of writers, poets, and historians throughout Europe. In England, 10 different Charlemagne romances were written in Middle English between around 1320 and 1500.

 Considering that Charlemagne was presented as a conspicuously French national hero in the many chansons de geste written in French since the 11th century, it is striking to find that English writers and readers showing such pronounced interest in him. This is all the more surprising given that nearly all of the English Charlemagne romances were produced and copied during the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453), a conflict often seen as playing a fundamental role in fostering two competing national identities: English versus French.

 There was no dearth of English heroes whose legendary feats were also celebrated in chivalric romances during the period: Guy of Warwick, Beves (or Bevis) of Hampton, and of course King Arthur (who, like Charlemagne, was prophesised to return as a ‘once and future king’— rex quondam rexque futurus). Nevertheless, there appears to have been considerable appetite for English romances about Charlemagne, peaking during the period in which England was at war with France.

 One reason for this otherwise puzzling surge of interest in Charlemagne could be the important differences of the English Charlemagne romances from their French or Anglo-Norman sources. Romances in Middle English tended to be simplified and abbreviated when compared with their French models, and the adaptations of Charlemagne stories are no exception. The emphasis was placed on narrative action, while descriptive passages were much reduced; these English poems addressed a less sophisticated, more popular audience and would often have been recited or performed in public. Precisely because they addressed a more inclusive audience, such poems afford us some insight into popular attitudes and mindsets, outside of elite circles usually associated with the production of ‘high’ literature.

 All of this may help to explain why the English Charlemagne romances emphasise questions of collective identity above anything else. Charlemagne’s forces are represented as a tightly unified, militant Christian force threatened by Saracen invaders. This is a striking change when compared with the earlier French versions of the legend, which include a much wider set of interests and narrative developments.

Charlemagne depicted on an illuminated page from the 12th-century Chronicles of Turpino. (DeAgostini/Getty Images)

 The Ottoman threat
 By contrast, the English poems are dominated by an interest in crusading. This obsession with religious warfare has been interpreted as a response to contemporary anxieties about the Ottoman invasion of Europe. Indeed, the disastrous defeat of Christian forces at the botched ‘crusade’ of Nicopolis in 1396 appears to have increased pan-European anxiety about the political rise of the Ottoman empire. In this climate of insecurity, stories of an idealised Christian empire from the past could of course be used for multiple purposes, from mere wishful thinking or bolstering morale, to political propaganda in favour of a concerted, large-scale military effort against the Ottoman Turks. 

What is most striking about the English Charlemagne romances is their powerfully uniting rhetoric, and their binary depiction of identity. The romances are reliant on ideas of ‘us’ versus ‘them’, with a constant, highly emotional insistence on the identity of “oure cristene men”. Just as the fictional heroes are brought together by their military struggle against the Saracen forces, the readers too are invited to identify themselves with a single, tightly unified group.

Charlemagne's army depicted in a miniature from a medieval manuscript. (DeAgostini/Getty Images)

 A divided Europe
 This almost obsessive emphasis on militant Christianity has also been read as a response to internal troubles within European society itself. At the time, Europe was divided by the papal schism between Rome and Avignon (c1378–1417). Known as the Great Western Schism, this dispute over papal candidates had produced a politically fractured Europe, threatening to undermine the very notion of a unified Christendom that medieval society took for granted. A divided Church raised troubling new questions about the relationship between political authority, ecclesiastical authority, personal belief, individual salvation, and the legitimacy of warfare within Christendom.

 In this context, stories of the triumphant military achievements of the exemplary Christian leader Charlemagne provided a fictional counter-narrative to a bleak reality of civil unrest, and wider social and spiritual anxiety. Indeed, numerous commentators evoked Charlemagne’s noble example specifically to condemn contemporary rulers for their inability to preserve Europe’s religious unity and political integrity.

 Charlemagne and English national identity
 Yet the English Charlemagne romances also appear to have resonated with more narrow, specifically English agendas and aspirations, determined by the country’s protracted involvement in the Hundred Years’ War. Remarkably, the English poems systematically remove nearly all traces of the specifically French identity of Charlemagne’s army: his peers and knights are no longer referred to as “franceis”, but simply “oure cristene men”. This is more than simple unifying rhetoric driven by a universalising religious fervour, and indeed points to a rather more sinister and divisive agenda. In the context of the prolonged conflict between the emerging nations of France and England, this deliberate removal of ‘Frenchness’ must be seen as part of a much wider effort to build English proto-national identity. Yet rather than pitching native English traditions against French ones, nation building often involved the appropriation of French culture, including the chansons de geste tradition and the figure of Charlemagne himself.

An illustration of Charlemagne from around 1450. (Imagno/Getty Images)

 Contemporaries would have recognised this move as an attack on French leadership within Christendom, and as a direct challenge to the kings of France and the way in which they portrayed themselves as mythical descendants of Charlemagne. Indeed Charles V, king of France from 1364 to 1380, styled himself as a new Charlemagne, and went as far as supplementing his personal royal sceptre with the figure of an enthroned Charlemagne. The appropriation of a French cultural icon like Charlemagne was a particularly striking statement given the nature of the dispute that had sparked the Hundred Years’ War in the first place: Edward III’s claim to the French crown.

 From the perspective of an English nation whose ruler presented himself as the sole legitimate heir to the French throne, Charlemagne was in many ways a perfectly natural ancestor to reclaim. The Anglicisation of Charlemagne seems intended to mark the end of French political and cultural supremacy in the west, and the transition of power to the British Isles. For a brief moment, with Henry V’s victories in France, it must have seemed as though the myth was actually becoming reality.

Yet myths are ultimately fictions, and history did not conform to this particular narrative. Charlemagne’s fluctuating, slippery status as a cultural icon in English texts provides a good indication of the profound and unsettling transformations experienced by English and European society during the period of the Hundred Years’ War. For late medieval English readers, Charlemagne was simultaneously an idealised, just, pious, and victorious military leader; a proto-crusader inspiring his descendants to overcome their internal differences and turn against the heathen; and a disputed national hero.

 Marco Nievergelt is a senior teaching fellow in the department of english and comparative literary studies at the University of Warwick. He specialises in medieval and early modern literature, and his research interests include chivalric literature and culture, and allegorical poetry.

History Trivia -Pope Stephen (II) III elected

March 26

752 Pope Stephen (II) III elected; he was the first sovereign of the Papal States, crowned Pepin as King of the Franks, corresponded with the Emperor Constantine on the subject of the restoration of the sacred images, restored many of the ancient churches of the city, and built hospitals specifically for the poor near St. Peter's church where he is buried.
 

In a nutshell: the Holy Roman Empire

History Extra

Stained-glass window depicting Charlemagne, who was made Roman Emperor

What was it?

The Holy Roman Empire was a notional realm in central Europe, which lasted for around 1,000 years, until 1806. Its name, however is rather misleading: the French philosopher Voltaire once decried the realm as “neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire”.

So why did it have that name?

It was not until 1254 that the title of Holy Roman Empire was applied, but the origins of the name date back to AD 800, more than 300 years after the western half of the Roman Empire had collapsed. The Pope at that time, Leo III, was forced to flee Rome and, in desperation, he turned for help to Charlemagne, the powerful King of the Franks, who then ruled what is now roughly France and Germany. Charlemagne came to Leo’s aid. In AD 800, the grateful Pope crowned him as Roman Emperor as a gift.

How did the Empire develop after that?

After Charlemagne’s death in AD 814, his squabbling heirs broke up the Empire and the title of Roman Emperor became fairly meaningless for over a century. It was revived by Otto I, King of the Eastern Franks (who ruled an area approximately equating to modern-day Germany), who had himself been crowned by Pope John XII in AD 962.
As with Charlemagne, Otto was crowned as a reward for having helped Pope John deal with his enemies in Italy. From that point, the Empire was chiefly centred on Germany, though it retained lands in Italy and elsewhere in central Europe.

This octagonal crown of the Holy Roman Empire was possibly made during Otto’s reign

What relationship did these latter Roman Emperors have with the Popes?

The Empire, having been created and reinforced by the papacy at times of trouble, enjoyed a complex and frequently difficult relationship with the bishops of Rome. The years after Otto’s reign were a high point for the Empire – at that time the most powerful in Europe – and a low one for the papacy.
A series of Roman Emperors took their title seriously and sought to dominate the Popes, even deposing those they didn’t approve of. By the mid 11-th century, however, the papacy was recovering and gaining power. In 1075, a lengthy battle for dominance between the Popes and Emperors, known as the Investiture Conflict, began.
The death in 1250 of Emperor Frederick II, following a failed campaign in Italy, marked the final defeat of the Empire in this clash. From then on, the link between the Popes and Emperors was largely broken. Though the Empire kept its title, it was greatly weakened, particularly as it took 23 years to settle the decision of who should succeed Frederick – the most extraordinary, intelligent and ambitious of the Emperors.
No longer seeking European domination, the Empire settled into a loose confederation of mainly German states, with the Emperor often marginalised.

How did the Empire come to an end?

It was the French ruler Napoleon Bonaparte who oversaw the events that brought about the end of the Holy Roman Empire. Having declared himself heir to Charlemagne, Bonaparte aimed to add German lands to his growing empire. Seeing the writing on the wall, the last Holy Roman Emperor, Francis II, disbanded his realm in 1806.

The states of the Holy Roman Empire on a woodcut, c1510

How was the Empire able to survive for so long?

This may perhaps be because it didn’t have much power as a single, authoritative domain. It eventually came to comprise hundreds of territories, each of which enjoyed plenty of autonomy. For the rulers of many of these lands, the Empire offered a welcome alternative to a dominant or even tyrannical central power.

Moreover, until the 19th century, concepts of nationalism were far less prevalent that they would go on to become, so there was little drive to unify the various German territories into one nation state.

What was the legacy of the Holy Roman Empire?

When the German territories were unified as one country in 1871, it became known as the Reich (‘empire’ or ‘realm’). From 1933 to 1945, the Nazis sought to continue the Empire’s legacy by presiding over the Third Reich, which Hitler claimed would last 1,000 years. More recently, the idea of the later Holy Roman Empire has been reflected in the European union where, once again, a group of disparate countries has been brought together under a loose umbrella.

Submitted by: Jonny Wilkes

History Trivia - The Order of the Dragon, a monarchical chivalric order, created

December 12

884 Charles the Fat inherited the West Frankish lands and briefly reunited the empire of his ancestor Charlemagne.

1098 First Crusade: Massacre of Ma'arrat al-Numan – Crusaders breached the town's walls and massacred about 20,000 inhabitants. After finding themselves with insufficient food, they resorted to cannibalism.

1189 Richard I left England, where he spent less than six months of his reign, to join the Third Crusade.

1408, The Order of the Dragon a monarchical chivalric order was created by Sigismund of Luxembourg, then King of Hungary.