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Imperial legacies and multiple borderlands: Was there an “Adrio-Byzantine” model of identity in the upper Adriatic?

Ivan Basić

In a paper of some length that I presented at the international conference “Croats and Carolingians Revisited” in 2015 and published in 2018, I tried to analyze the institutionalized links between the early medieval communities constituted along the Adriatic and the central imperial power in Constantinople, as well as the echoes thereof in written records. In that article, I endeavored to enable a better understanding of the scope and nature of the Byzantine presence in the early medieval upper Adriatic which, however, deserves further attention. Apart from paraphrasing the title of an influential paper by Thomas S. Brown and Neil Christie,¹ here I intend to further develop the arguments on the penetration of Byzantine culture as well as on the contacts between the Adriatic basin and the imperial metropolis. Because the aforementioned conclusions are extremely important for the discussion, a summary of the main results is needed first.

The Frankish theologian and poet of Saxon origin Gottschalk of Orbais (c. 808–868) found himself, in c. 846–848, at the court of the Croatian ruler dux Trpimir (c. 840–864). Gottschalk’s tumultuous biography and his unorthodox theological views are well known and need not be reiterated here.² Suffice it to say that the doctrine of twofold predestination that he expounded throughout his life met with a fierce reaction by the Church, providing Gottschalk with enemies from the uppermost echelons of the ecclesiastical hierarchy (like Hrabanus Maurus). This, in turn, prompted him to move around Central and Eastern Europe with increasing frequency, trying to find a safe haven among a number of hosts, some more, some less accommodating. One of these was the Croatian duke Trpimir, who gave him hospitality for a period of approximately two years. While there, Gottschalk apparently indulged in his favorite activity – gathering realia that would then be built upon later in the context of his theory of predestination.

Beginning in the early 9th century, the eastern Adriatic consisted of several political units: the Istrian peninsula in the north was fully integrated into the Carolingian realm; to the south, eight littoral and/or insular cities of Dalmatia remained under Byzantine overlordship (at first as archontia, then as theme); beyond their districts in the hinterland stretched the Croatian Duchy, extending to most of the former Roman Dalmatia; and the regnum Francorum exercised authority over the Croatian polity. Further south, several other Slavic polities (Sklaviniae) developed, bordering on either Croatia or Byzantine-held towns of Dalmatia.

While traversing this political landscape, Gottschalk recorded several valuable pieces of information on mid-9th-century Dalmatia and Croatia, which were otherwise poorly attested in historical sources. One of these snippets of early medieval reality entailed Gottschalk’s conviction that present happenings can anticipate future events (viz. the cheerfulness of horses prior to battle is an omen of sorts, predicting victory for that side), which was later included in his treatise Responsa de diversis.³ The other textual fragment concerns some linguistic particularities he came across that were eventually incorporated into another treatise, the famous De Praedestinatione.⁴ The latter text is preeminently centered on predestination, but it also discusses many issues of logic and grammar (syllogisms, abstract notions, metonymy):

Omnes Venetici qui sunt uidelicet intra mare degentes in ciuitatibus homines Latini dominum suum id est imperatorem Graecorum nequaquam uocant dominum sed dominationem. Dicunt enim: Benigna dominatio miserere nostri, et: Fuimus ante dominationem, et: Ita nobis dixit dominatio. Sed ne tibi uilescat illorum quasi rustica loquutio, uide quid sit in caelo. Nam pro dominis dominationes uocantur illi spiritus beati qui sunt inter ceteros in ordine constituti VI°. Sic ergo dicitur deitas et diuinitas pro deo. Item homines Dalmatini, perinde id est similiter homines Latini Graecorum nihilominus imperio subiecti, regem et imperatorem communi locutione per totam Dalmatiam longissimam reuera regionem regem inquam et imperatorem regnum et imperium uocant. Aiunt enim: Fuimusad regnum, et: Stetimus ante imperium, et: Ita nobis dixit regnum, et: Ita nobis loquutum est imperium.

All the Venetians, that is, Latin people living in the cities on this side of the sea, never call their lord, that is, the emperor of the Greeks, lord, but lordship. For they say: “Your benign lordship, have mercy on us,” and: “We have been before his lordship,” and: “His lordship has told us so.” But lest their manner of speaking should seem poor to you as rustic, see what is in heaven. For those blessed spirits who are located in 6th ranks among the others are called lordships instead of lords. In that way then “deity” and “divinity” are used instead of “God .”Likewise, Dalmatian people, that is, likewise Latin people, but subject to the empire of the Greeks, call the king and emperor by an expression common throughout the whole of Dalmatia, which is a most spacious region, I mean, they call the king and emperor kingdom and empire. For they say: “We were at the kingdom,” and: “We stood before the empire,” and: “The kingdom has told us so,” and: “The empire spoke in that way.”

Since its discovery in 1932, the former text – mentioning Duke Trpimir – has generated more interest than the latter in Croatian historiography, which is typically concerned with issues of elite self-representation and the putative sources on early medieval origins of the Croatian nation. Moreover, this passage was erroneously linked to the previous one – although this belongs to a completely different work – and was interpreted so as to mirror two distinct entities: Dalmatini (people of ducatus Croatiae in the Dalmatian hinterland) and Latini (Byzantine subjects in littoral Dalmatia).⁵ However, the recent exhaustive contextual, discursive, and philological analysis of the text has shown that this is untenable.⁶ Therefore, we are left with only one “entity”: the homines Latini, who are one and the same as the homines Dalmatini. They are likened to the Venetians because these, too, used the Latin language. Both Latin-speaking inhabitants of littoral Dalmatia and Latin-speaking inhabitants of Venetia are, furthermore, subjects of the Byzantine emperor, which is one of the reasons why they caught Gottschalk’s attention in the first place. Apart from Trpimir’s court, he demonstrably also visited the littoral cities under imperial rule. The overlapping of Byzantine political overlordship in conjunction with the consistent usage of Latin (instead of Greek) generated not only Gottschalk’s comments but also those of another Frankish theologian, Amalarius of Metz, who, reminiscing about his stay in Zadar in 813, described the inhabitants of Byzantine Dalmatia as eos qui ad imperium Grecorum pertinent, thus clearly affirming the difference between their political allegiance and Latin identity in much the same way as Gottschalk.⁷ Simply put, the Saxon theologian reports that the people of littoral Dalmatia, who are imperial subjects, refer to their sovereign using the abstract nouns imperium and regnum, in lieu of the expected imperator and rex. Also unexpected to Gottschalk is their political allegiance to Byzantium, because their identity and language are both Latin. Both peculiarities are in turn compared to the similar case in Venice. This is made abundantly clear by some of the more recent translations of the text in question:

ENGLISHTRANSLATION #1(F. Borri)	All the Venetians who are, as everybody knows, Latin men who live in cities in the middle of the sea, never call their master, who is the emperor of the Greeks, dominus (Lord), but dominatio (Lordship). They say in fact: Benign domination, have mercy upon us, and: We were before the dominatio, and: so said unto us the dominatio. But do not put down their almost rustic language and behold what happens in the Heavens. In fact there, the blessed angels who are, between the many orders, graded in the sixth are called not domini, but dominationes. Similarly it is normal to say divinity instead of God. In the same way the Dalmatians, who are also, Latin men subject to the empire of the Greeks, use the same expression to indicate the king and the emperor in all the long region of Dalmatia: they call the king and the emperor kingdom and empire. They say therefore: We were at the kingdom, and: We were before the empire, and: the Kingdom said such and such to us, and: the Empire said such and such to us.
	(Borri 2008, 15–16, n. 59)
ENGLISHTRANSLATION #2(V. Genke)	All the Venetians, that is, Latin people living in the cities on this side of the sea, never call their lord, that is, the emperor of the Greeks, lord, but lordship. For they say: “Your benign lordship, have mercy on us,” and: “We have been before his lordship,” and: “His lordship has told us so.” But lest their manner of speaking should seem poor to you as rustic, see what is in heaven. For those blessed spirits who are located in sixth ranks among the others are called lordships instead of lords. In that way then “deity” and “divinity” are used instead of “God.” Likewise, Dalmatian people, that is, likewise Latin people, but subject to the empire of the Greeks, call the king and emperor by an expression common throughout the whole of Dalmatia, which is a most spacious region, I mean, they call the king and emperor kingdom and empire. For they say: “We were at the kingdom,” and: “We stood before the empire,” and: “The kingdom has told us so,” and: “The empire spoke in that way.”
	(Genke and Gumerlock 2010, 124–25)
ENGLISHTRANSLATION #3(M. B. Gillis)	All of the Venetians, who live on the sea in cities, are Latin men who call their lord that is the emperor of the Greeks, not “lord” at all, but “lordship.” For they say: “Benign lordship have mercy on us,” and, “We were before our lordship,” and, “Thus his lordship said to us.” But lest their [way] seem to you like rustic speech, see how it is in heaven. In place of “lords” those blessed spirits are called “lordships,” who are constituted sixth in order among the rest. In this way “deity” and “divinity” are used for “God.” Likewise the Dalmatian men, that is Latin men likewise no less subject to the power of the Greeks, call their king and emperor in common speech through all of Dalmatia — a very expansive region in fact — I say they call their king and emperor “kingdom” and “empire.” For they say: “We were with the kingdom,” and, “We stood before the empire,” and, “Thus the kingdom said to us,” and, “Thus the empire said to us.”
	(Gillis 2017, 101)
GERMANTRANSLATION(R. Schneider)	Ebenso nennen die Dalmatiner, also in ähnlicher Weise [wie die Venetier] Lateiner, auch wenn sie nichtsdestotrotz dem griechischen Kaisertum unterworfen sind, den König und Kaiser in ihrer allgemeinen Sprach-praxis und zwar in ganz Dalmatien, einer räumlich sehr langgestreckten Region, (also) den König und — um es nochmals zu betonen — den Kaiser Königtum und Kaisertum. Sie sagen nämlich: Wir sind beimKönigtum gewesen, und: Wir haben vor dem Kaisertum gestanden, und: So hat es uns das Königtum gesagt, und: So hat mit uns das Kaisertum gesprochen.
	(Schneider 1990, 245)
ITALIANTRANSLATION(F. Borri)	Tutti i Venetici che sono, per capirci, uomini latini che vivono in delle città in mezzo al mare non chiamano mai il loro signore, che è l'imperatore dei Greci, dominus, ma dominatio. Dicono infatti: benevola dominatio, abbi pietà di noi! E ancora: fummo di fronte alla dominatio. Ma, affinche tu non svilisca questa parlata quasi rustica, guarda cosa accade in cielo. Infatti sono chiamati Dominazioni anziché domini quei beati spiriti che occupano, tra gli altri, il sesto cerchio. Allo stesso tempo si dice divinità (deitas et divinitas) intendendo Dio. Anche gli uomini della Dalmazia (Dalmatini), che sono a loro volta uomini latini sudditi dell’impero greco, chiamano re e imperatore, regno e impero per tutta la lunghissima regione di Dalmazia. Dicono pertanto: fummo presso l’impero; e: eravamo di fronte all’impero; e ancora: così disse noi il regno, e infine: così ci è stato detto dall’impero.
	(Borri 2010b, 23)
FRENCHTRANSLATION (T. Živković, B. Radovanović)	Tous les Vénètes qui habitent, comme s’est connu, dans les villes côtières, les Latins, ne qualifient pas leur dominateur, c’est-à-dire, l’empereur grec, de dominateur, mais de domination. Alors ils disent: Dominationclémente, soit miséricordieuse avec nous, et: Nous étions auprès de la domination, et: Ainsi la domination nous a-t-elle dit. Pourque tu donnes assez d’importance a leur façon de parler quelque peu rustique, observe comment se passent les choses au ciel: en effet, ceux, bienheureux d’esprit, qui sont, parmi d’autres, assignés en VIème ordre, sont nommés les dominations au lieu de dominateurs. Ainsi, de même, on dit déité et divinité pour désigner Dieu.
	De même manière, les Dalmaces, ainsi que les Latins, subordonnés à l’empire grec, qualifient le roi et l’empereur, en language quotidien, a travers la Dalmatie, une province considérablement large, alors, ils qualifient le roi et l’empereur — de royaume et d’empire. Ainsi disent-ils: Nous étions auprès du royaume, et: Nous sommes présentés devant Vempire, et: Ainsi le royaume nous a-t-il dit, et: Ainsi Vempire nous a-t-ilparlé.
	(Živković and Radovanović 2009, 35–36)

What distinguishes the Venetians from the Dalmatians is the expression used: they style the emperor dominatio (instead of dominus). In a similar vein, abstract nouns designate the Byzantine emperor at an even earlier date: in 804 at the assembly of Rižana (Placitum Rizianense, in present-day Slovenia), the people of Istria protested against the Frankish officials using many of the same phrases.⁸ The Istrian peninsula was subjugated by the Franks in c. 788, and the ensuing reforms were enacted in order to conform the formerly Byzantine Istria to the Carolingian system, which triggered a reaction from the populace unaccustomed to the new ways:

Ad missos imperii siue i(n) quacu(m)q(ue) datione aut collecta medietate(m) dabat ecclesia et medietate(m) populus. Qua(n) do missi imperii veniebant, i(n) episcopio habebant collocatione(m), et du(m) interim reuerti d(e)berent ad sua(m) dominatione(m) ibiq(ue) habebant ma(n)sione(m).9 …Ab antiquo tempore, du(m)fuimus subpotestate Grecorum imperii, habueru(n)tparentes nostri (con)suetudine(m) habendi actus tribunati. … Et q(ui) volebant meliore(m) honore(m) habere d(e) tribuno, ambulabat ad imperiu(m), q(ui) ordinabat illu(m) ypato.10

For the envoys of the Empire or for any other tax or tribute one half gave the Church, one half the people. When the envoys of the Empire came, they stayed in the bishop’s palace; and up until the time they had to return to their lordship, they resided there. …Since a long time ago, while we were subject to the Empire of the Greeks, our forefathers were accustomed to hold the honor of tribunate. … And who wished to have a higher honor than the tribunate, went to the Empire, who appointed him consul.

Reportedly, the consuls (hypatoi) are appointed by the abstract notion of empire, not by the person of the emperor, although it is unequivocally stated that the candidates had to travel to the Empire in order to obtain their new titles (ambulabat ad imperium, qui ordinabat illum ypato). Also, the imperial representatives that used to come to Istria from Constantinople are not called missi imperatoris, but missi imperii (it is revealing that the envoys of Charlemagne attending the assembly are referred to simply as servi imperatoris or missi domni imperatoris; Charlemagne himself is called dominus imperator many times over in the text). Once they leave Istria to go back to Constantinople, they are said to “return to their lordship” (ad suam dominationem). The anticipated concrete nouns one would suppose to refer to the person of the Byzantine emperor (imperator, dominus) here are consistently replaced by the abstract nouns (imperium, dominatio).

Building upon McCormick’s observation that these were not mere lexical features present in vulgar Latin of the day but a reflection of ossified formulas in documents issued by the Byzantine imperial chancery,¹¹ I conducted an in-depth study of analogous usage of imperium, regnum, and dominatio in the everyday par-lance of Venice, Istria, and Dalmatia and implications thereof.¹² Formulas used in these documents by which the emperor designated himself were written in plural form using the abstract nouns ἡ βασιλεία ἡμῶν, that is, “our emperorship” (“our majesty/empire/kingdom/sovereignty/reign/rule”). These exactly correspond to the Latin titles imperium or regnum, that is to say, to abstract nouns attested by Gottschalk. Additionally, the word dominatio that the Venetians used – according to Gottschalk – to designate their ruler is, in my opinion, a faithful rendition of the Greek phrase τὸ κράτος ἡμῶν, used by the Byzantine emperor to designate himself as “Our Imperial Lordship/Imperial Power.” Examined against this background, the wording imperium et regnum of Gottschalk turns out to be much more than a peculiar loan word of Byzantine-Greek origin. Namely, this semantic calque points to a discourse common to both coasts of the upper Adriatic and shared by the communities that had lived under imperial overlordship for a protracted period of time: Venetia marittima, Histria (prior to 788), and Byzantine Dalmatia all seemed to demonstrate the same developmental parallelism.¹³

What kind of “local knowledge”¹⁴ generated what we might provisionally call the “majestic discourse”? The inquiry of the phrases βασιλεία ἡμῶν and κράτος ἡμῶν, as well as similar ones, has resulted in plentiful evidence of Byzantine emperors’ transpersonal terminology, a full survey of which is certainly unnecessary to present here. The emperors used these phrases on a permanent basis in texts issued by the imperial chancery, ranging from simple letters, to edicts, to sigillia. The “majestic discourse,” in other words, was a standardized, ubiquitous form of imperial self-representation. As an obligatory component of such documents intended for internal as well as external (West) audiences, imperial legislative acts, administrative acts, resolutions, rescripts, privileges, and so on were permeated with formulas of this kind in such a way as to exert influence over their readers, especially taking into consideration the passage of time. The all-encompassing transpersonalization of the emperor in the word imperium extended beyond the field of diplomatics, and indeed beyond the field of textual transmission: the wording in question was normally utilized at the imperial court in Constantinople and transmitted orally in front of dignitaries and officials, as well as foreign guests or ambassadors. To designate the emperor and his majesty in an abstract way was, finally, formally prescribed in Byzantine handbooks on court ceremony (De Cerimoniis), as well as in sets of fixed expressions at the disposal of foreign courts and chanceries (the papal one being the most distinguished example) for addressing the emperor in Constantinople.

Bearing in mind McCormick’s premise of the

three main ways in which the imperial ideology impinged on the awareness of the empire’s towns and settlements can be distinguished: the bonds between provincials and their distant sovereigns, the impact of the church and army on provincial life and, finally, the ceremonial life of local officialdom,

as well as Brown’s premise that “centralization appeared much more complete at the ritual level than at the level of political action,”¹⁵ several potentially productive fields of study concerning the genesis of “majestic discourse” in the West thus presented themselves. First, the formula entailing βασιλεία instead of “I, the emperor” was used at the appointment of many officials when they were invested in their office personally by the emperor; this made them acquainted firsthand with the official discourse of the Byzantine court, which they witnessed in the aura of awe-inspiring imperial power. This offers one plausible explanation for how such discourse penetrated the peripheral Byzantine provinces in the West, where many of the office seekers actually came from; it gradually made its way into public written and spoken communication, as a personification of the ruler. The discourse of “imperial literacy” thus entered the common psychology, thereby reaching human speech; similar phraseology found its way into the modes of communication practiced by the upper classes in the provinces, whether directed toward the central power or within their circle.¹⁶ Second, it seems that some of these formulas entailing βασιλεία as a synonym for the emperor are very old, going back to at least the 6th century (and possibly reaching to the 5th century), which brings us to the question of chronology. Third, following the Hellenization of the Empire up until the late 9th and early 10th centuries, no official Latin translations were appended to documents issued in Greek by the Byzantine imperial chancery and addressed to Western recipients, thus reinforcing the already existing language barrier. Although there are only a few Greek documents available for comparison with their respective Latin translations, those that did survive, as a rule, confirm that the emperors permanently used the transpersonal term βασιλεία ἡμῶν when referring to themselves in an official capacity, and that this title was consistently translated as imperium nostrum (pium imperium nostrum, gaudium a Deo imperium nostrum and the like) by Westerners, corroborating Gottschalk’s observations. Fourth, the peculiar position of the Adriatic provinces of Byzantium as the last remnants of Latin-speaking imperial subjects following the Hellenization of the Empire in the 7th century – namely, Venice, Istria, and Dalmatia – offers new and stimulating possibilities for the study of identity, ethnicity, and Romanness of their respective dwellers.

Here, I would like to explore whether there are any remnants of these formal terms from the imperial protocol in the recorded linguistic traits of the 9th century, that is, whether there are any equivalents in other sources pertaining to the Adriatic Basin. As stated in my previous paper,¹⁷ most Byzantine imperial acts addressed to Dalmatia did not reach us. Nonetheless, there is no reason to question their existence attested, moreover, by the several preserved seals of Byzantine officials.¹⁸ Additionally, a number of other sources point – albeit indirectly – to the reception of imperial documents in Byzantine Dalmatia representing a normal and usual occurrence.¹⁹ On the other hand, new evidence has recently surfaced concerning Gottschalk’s stay in Italy, where he may have learned of Venetian terminology (Verona and the Venetian Terraferma, in general).²⁰

Gottschalk’s interlocutors on both shores of the Adriatic must have belonged to the upper strata, because it was only the social elite who were allowed access to the imperial court and were awarded titles and dignities (cf. the data in the Placitum Rizianense: only the tribunes “went to the Empire”). The same holds true for Venice, notwithstanding the scarcity of sources: titles such as spatharios, protospatharios, or hypatos were commonly bestowed on Venetian nobility, either in person in front of the emperor or via official documents. The association of Venetian hypatoi (consuls) with contemporary hypatoi of Istria (attested in the Placitum Rizianense) was highlighted by Francesco Borri, who also pointed out that the Venetian tribuni received the title of consul-hypatos concurrently with the Istrians.²¹

Even if the imperial appointments were occasionally transmitted via decrees instead of the troublesome journey to Constantinople, again we are faced with recipients who had to have had at least a basic grasp of literacy. This in itself is further proof that the official vocabulary lies beneath the dissemination of “majestic discourse,” but it also suggests that Gottschalk must have been in touch primarily with urban-based aristocracy and the high clergy. Whereas we are unable to identify the personalities of his Dalmatian sources (these were presumably members of the urban nobility within the cities of Dalmatia and/or Byzantine officials with their retinue), we are, however, in a position to single out a few northern Adriatic personages who fit the profile. This is not to say that Gottschalk received his information about the spoken style directly from these people, but nevertheless they represent the closest match in terms of both chronology and content.

***

In 812, Fortunatus II, Patriarch of Grado, found himself in a curious situation, with his plans in tatters. After the failed Frankish seizure of Byzantine possessions in the upper Adriatic and Dalmatia, and following several Byzantine reprisals and a war (806–812), Fortunatus was finally reinstated to his see in Grado, but there were serious reasons for discontent. Although nominally a Byzantine subject, the Patriarch of Grado initially exhibited strongly pro-Frankish tendencies, thereby delaying, for a while, the segregation of five bishops of Istria from his metropolitan authority. Since the splitting of the Patriarchate of Aquileia into two rival archdioceses (Grado and Cividale) in 607, the dioceses of Istria had been subjected to the Patriarchate of Grado, but the latter gradually lost its hold over Istria during the late 8th and early 9th centuries. Only in the late 820s, following several changes of allegiance by Fortunatus that discredited him before both major powers (the Franks and the Byzantines), did the controversies end between Cividale and Grado in Istria. Fortunatus’ life and career ended in 824–825, opening the way to a resolution of the disputes at the synod in Mantua, which handed over the dioceses of Istria to Aquileia-Cividale.

In the meantime, Fortunatus met with Charlemagne in Salz in 803, attended the assembly (Placitum) at Rižana in 804, was prevented from returning to the Duchy of Venice by Doge Obelierius in 805 (with a short stay at Mestre), briefly returned to Grado in 805, once again left the city after the Byzantine intervention in 806, resided in Pula under Frankish tutelage in 806 to 810–811, and finally was reinstated in Grado once more probably following the failed Frankish invasion of Venice in 810. He visited the Frankland in 814 or 815, fled to Constantinople (via Zadar) in 821, and finally died in Francia during another trip in 824 or 825.

This extraordinary individual, who “betrayed both empires in his time” and whose abilities and political flexibility astounded his contemporaries,²² once again became the metropolitan of Venetia marittima following the Treaty of Aachen in 812, but this was according to the peace treaty returned under the Byzantine jurisdiction, and the greater part of Fortunatus’ suffragans remained in Istria, all of them under Frankish overlordship.

His ambition to lead a united Venetian and Istrian archdiocese – corresponding to a sole political framework, preferably Frankish – came to nothing. Fortunatus’ absurd position at that time is perhaps best demonstrated by the fact that he was still considered one of the metropolitans of the Frankish realm; moreover, Charlemagne’s will (811) named the Patriarch of Grado as one of the five leading churchmen of Italy, along with the metropolitans of Rome, Ravenna, Milan, and Cividale,²³ notwithstanding the blatant fact that the western part of his archdiocese comprised Byzantine possessions. The Aachen peace treaty simply divided the territory under Fortunatus’ jurisdiction into a littoral area under Byzantine sovereignty and the Istrian peninsula under Frankish sovereignty.²⁴ Several historians have therefore aptly dubbed Fortunatus as “the greatest loser of the Peace of Aachen.”²⁵

One of the most intriguing textual fruits of Fortunatus’ activity is the so-called Commonitorium patriarchae Fortunati Gradensis.²⁶ Considered a faithful – albeit late – copy of the original, it is generally held to be authentic and not subject to any substantial manumission during its textual transmission.²⁷ Although traditionally termed “Fortunatus’ will,” the text was in fact probably composed with a wholly different purpose, though it did by chance coincide with Fortunatus’ demise.²⁸ Its original function was to be used for the aged patriarch’s defense at a trial in front of the curial tribunal in Rome. Accused of gross mismanagement of his Church of Grado, Fortunatus compiled a sort of list recording his many investments and beau-tifications undertaken in Grado, envisaged as a justification of his actions before the pope. Because the patriarch passed away during his trip to Rome, the document came to be regarded as his testament. In terms of typology, it would best fit the genre of breve recordationis or memoriale.

MAP 3.1 Political and ecclesiastical boundaries in the upper Adriatic at the time of Patriarch Fortunatus II.

Source: Copyright Marko Rimac.

One of the items recorded in his “will” concerns the rebuilding of the church Santa Maria delle Grazie in Grado, which was covered by a new lead roof (probably in the period 812–821 when the patriarch more or less permanently resided within his see):

Et coperii ipsam ecclesiam de plumbo de dono sancti Imperii, et in meo certamine et stravi ipsam porticum cum lapide usque in plateam publicam.29

And I covered the same church with lead, a gift of the holy Empire, and my own effort, and paved the same porch with stone up to the public square.

The meaning of the sentence is reasonably clear: Fortunatus provided the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie with a new lead roof, not only by using the precious metal presented to him by the Holy Empire (de dono sancti Imperii) but also by his own means (in meo certamine, presumably out of his own pocket). What is somewhat unclear is the phrase sanctum imperium. Did the patriarch mean that the lead was presented to him by the Frankish state (in a corporate sense), or does the word convey some other meaning?

Although 30 years ago Brunettin clearly expressed that

un rilievo ben maggiore si è invece voluto dare al commento glossologico: un’esatta comprensione del lessico utilizzato da Fortunato costituisce infatti il requisito ineliminabile per un concreto tentativo di penetrare nel senso di molti passi ed allusioni altrimenti poco perspicui,

to the best of my knowledge, a fine philological and linguistic analysis of Fortunatus’ memoriale is still lacking.³⁰ One or two features, however, stand out when confronted by a Byzantinist versed in imperial administrative documents.

Namely, Fortunatus specified that he obtained the metal from the emperor: the lead was “a gift of the holy empire and his own efforts.” This was duly noticed by Michael McCormick in his magisterial book on the early medieval origins of the European economy, who pointed out that the lead transported to Grado may have been the gift of Charlemagne himself, possibly originating from silver-bearing lead mines at Melle in Poitou. Albeit in passing, McCormick also noted the curious word imperium – instead of imperator – in Fortunatus’ text, adding it to the attestations of lexical Byzantinisms in a previous paper of his.³¹

Once more, at the very end of the document, the author reiterates the phrase under scrutiny:

Credite, non profeta sum, nec films profetę, nam promissa a Deo sic erit quod in magno honore et gratia sancti Imperii in sancta mea reverto Ecclesia, in pace et tranquillitate vobiscum diebus vitę meę gaudebo.32

Believe, I am not a prophet, neither a son of a prophet, but promised by God so will it be that in great honor and grace of the holy Empire, I return to my holy Church, in peace and tranquility with you I will rejoice in the days of my life.

The final sentences of the commonitorium, quoted previously, resemble legal clauses (perhaps intended for the Roman judicial audience) and possess an unmistakable political overtone; they come close to a declaration of intent on the part of Fortunatus – he is firmly resolved to reenter his metropolitan see at Grado, certain that the emperor will show him mercy in clearing him of all charges, and he does not in any way demonstrate remorse over the very serious transgressions attributed to him by his detractors. He goes so far as to present his rehabilitation as the will of God (promissa a Deo). One may wonder whether his self-confidence stemmed from well-placed individuals at the Frankish court, whom he bribed to sing his praise in the emperor’s presence.³³

The context, as expected, now enables us to clarify beyond any reasonable doubt the phrase sanctum Imperium: it is demonstrably a synonym for the emperor, namely, “holy emperor” (sanctus imperator), that is meant here. Accordingly, we are bound to conclude that Patriarch Fortunatus was speaking of his Frankish overlord (Charlemagne, Louis the Pious) using a style more akin to Byzantine areas. Upon closer look, it is in fact a close Latin equivalent of the phrase ἡ ἁγία βασιλεία, clearly belonging to the same “majestic discourse” as the lexical features previously established in Venice, Istria, and Dalmatia. Fortunatus II doubtlessly grew accustomed to using these exalted titles in his own homeland – the Venetiae – and we are in no way bound to explain this usage away by assuming that he may have picked it up during his stay at Constantinople (c. 821–824).

That this is indeed so is confirmed by a few sources produced by his immediate successor, Patriarch Venerius (820s–840s).³⁴ In 826, he addressed a letter to the Frankish Emperor Louis the Pious and his son and co-ruler Lothair I, which has reached us via Codex Trevisaneus, as well as the emperors’ replies.³⁵ This exchange of letters occurred in 826 and 827 and concerned the disputed rights of the Church of Grado over Istria, furthermore trying to wrap up loose ends left by Fortunatus’ mismanagement of church funds. All of this activity on the part of Venerius was probably intended to preempt the conflict with Patriarch Maxentius of Aquileia in view of the approaching Council of Mantua (827), which supported the jurisdictional claims of Aquileia-Cividale over the traditional rights of Aquileia-Grado.

In the opening clauses, the patriarch describes the objective of his petition: one must appeal for whatever one can get from their holy imperial lordships (vestra sancta imperialis potestas) in order to keep the flame of the Lord alive on this earth.³⁶ He continues by reminding the rulers that their predecessor Charlemagne had granted immunity to the Church of Grado during the pontificate of the late patriarch [Fortunatus]:

In such manner that, where the properties or bishoprics of our holy church have been established under his [Charlemagne’s] holy empire (sub ipsius sancto imperio), which it seems to have possessed from ancient times, so he decreed to remain in perpetuity.³⁷

Because it had been established at that time that the privilege of immunity extends to any place under Charlemagne’s rule where the Church of Grado holds possessions or performs ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the new patriarch asks the new rulers to confirm this state of affairs for perpetuity, as did their ancestor. This sentence is followed by a long and convoluted passage, whereby the patriarch implores the emperors to follow the example of their exalted forefather Charlemagne by issuing a document of privilege in his favor: Louis and Lothair are at this junction addressed impersonally as “serene holy empire, our lord” and “their imperial lordship” (serenitas sancti imperii domini nostri, vestra imperialis potestas).³⁸ In return for the emperors’ grace, the patriarch and his bishops, priests, and folk will incessantly pray to Christ to uphold and keep safe Louis and Lothair’s realm:

And we, albeit unworthy, together with our bishops and priests and the entire most Christian people, united in equal voice, do not cease daily and nightly to entreat the mercy of our lord Jesus Christ for your pious empire (pro vestro pietatis imperio) and your most Christian court, that is most noble counts and clergy and faithful folk and the entire people.³⁹

Finally, Venerius informs the emperors that he has directed a deacon, Peter (as his own envoy), and a priest, Justus (representing the Venetian doges Agnello and Giustiniano), to advocate his case at court, and he begs Louis and Lothair to benevolently lend their ears to the pleas, as well as to extend the confidence of their imperial lordship (imperialis vestrae potestatis credulitas) unto them.⁴⁰

This correspondence is closely followed by a very similar letter, written in late 826 or early 827, again sent by Patriarch Venerius, but this time addressed solely to emperor Louis.⁴¹ On this occasion, Venerius directs his subdeacon and vicedomnus Tiberius, recommending him to the emperor. Again the text is saturated by the “majestic discourse,” applied in much the same way as in the previous letter (vestra sancta imperialis potestas, sub ipsius sancto imperio, sancti imperii domini nostri, de vestra imperiali potestate, pro vestro pietatis imperio, imperialis vestrae potestatis). The use of “empire” and the like here is repeated stereotypically as a chancery formula.

Strikingly, all of the enumerated Latin terms of address used by Venerius closely correspond with Greek terms used to designate the Byzantine emperor. If we add the two terms used by Fortunatus in his “will,” the results are as follows:

Source	Latin term	Greek term
Fortunatus’ “will” (824–825)	de dono sancti Imperii	ἡ ἁγία βασιλεία
	sancti Imperii	ἡ ἁγία βασιλεία
Venerius’ letters (826, 827)	vestra sancta imperialis potestas	τὸ ὑμέτερον (ἁγίον) βασίλειον κράτος
	sub ipsius sancto imperio	ἡ ἁγία βασιλεία
	serenitatem sancti imperii domini nostri	ἡ γαληνότης/ἡμερότης/εἰρήνη τῆς ἁγίας βασιλείας τοῦ δεσπότου ἡμῶν
	de vestra imperiali potestate	τὸ κράτος τῆς ὑμῶν βασιλείας
	pro vestro pietatis imperio	ἡ εὐσεβής βασιλεία ἡμῶν
	imperialis vestrae potestatis	τὸ κράτος τῆς ὑμῶν βασιλείας

There is no doubt whatsoever that the “empire” is not used here in its territorial or corporate meaning. Here the “holy empire” is associated with the person of its current sovereign and belongs instead to a courtly style of address. As observed before, here the “empire” is personified: the notion of imperium is conceived as a transpersonal symbol of emperorship. Simultaneously, the expression “our emperorship” stresses the distinction between the ruler’s person and his title, which was completely in tune with Byzantine notions.

Fortunatus II may have hailed from Trieste, but this remains speculative.⁴² We do, however, know that he was related to the previous patriarch, John (†803),⁴³ so presumably both belonged to the upper echelons of upper Adriatic society. Like his predecessor, Venerius was also of local extraction. At least two sources speak of his Venetian origin: according to Chronicon Altinate he was from nova Venetia, whereas Andrea Dandolo’s Chronica per extensum descripta further specifies his origin, stating that he hailed from Rivoalto.⁴⁴ Be that as it may, he hailed from Venetia marittima, ipso facto sharing the common cultural templates inherited in that area from the Byzantine era. With both patriarchs having strong roots in Venetia, it is understandable that they shared the discourse deeply embedded in the region.

In this respect, one could draw parallels with multiple Grecisms present in Agnello’s Liber pontificalis ecclesiae Ravennatis (c. 840), taking into account the fact that the author was born nearly 50 years after the collapse of the Exarchate of Ravenna. The linguistic profile of the town – or at the very least the one displayed by the members of its more elevated circles – remained thoroughly rooted in Byzantine lexical traditions.⁴⁵

The intent behind the use of these abstract nouns was to solemnize and to dignify the ruler, closely following the manner established in texts of Byzantine origin and the elaborate ceremonies to which one was exposed while at court. The imperial usage in written texts and (probably) viva voce penetrated into the practice of Venetian, Istrian, and Dalmatian elites, who adapted the concepts and terminology of rulership from the Empire. The effect, whether intentionally or not, later extended to the Frankish emperor, with the inhabitants of the recently acquired Adriatic territories showing marks of deference to him. The Dalmatians, Istrians, and Venetians spoke of going to see the emperor and recalling what they had said to him; in new circumstances, they transferred their usual spoken style to another ruler of imperial status, this time embodied in a Carolingian. The fluidity of the usage, encompassing both the ruler and the imperial rule as such, seems likely to have given rise to this effect. In an entirely new political constellation, the terms in question begin to appear in sources from the Adriatic region from the early 9th century in relation to the Frankish empire, as expected at first in texts addressed to the Carolingian emperor. On the part of writers or commissioners of written texts, the shift in focus supposedly depended on their (in)ability to conceive more than one sanctum imperium and/or to replace the Eastern Empire with the Western one as an exclusive holder of Roman imperial idea. In parallel, the old custom of reserving the “majestic discourse” solely for the basileus was preserved in those areas that remained under exclusive Byzantine rule (e.g. littoral Dalmatia). This could suggest that the outlook behind the usage identified for the 8th and 9th centuries persisted, even if the precise usage did not. As a prime example of imperial legacy, it transcended political borders.

Along the rim of the upper Adriatic, Dalmatia, Istria, and Venice represented the westernmost (and northernmost) outposts of Byzantium at that time, but they were not fully integrated into the Empire and functioned as borderlands of sorts.⁴⁶ Even the areas of marginal interest for the imperial metropolis, subjected to partial or superficial political control at best, still exhibited unusually strong links with Constantinople, in terms of both individuals as well as communities. This was in no way hindered by their inability to speak or write Greek,⁴⁷ which enables a twofold conclusion: first, that they were accustomed to the written word beforehand, preserving some forms of literary culture⁴⁸ and using it for a comparatively long period; second, that they were adept at adapting the received Greek word to their own Latin-speaking background. The long-standing experiences of written culture in the borderlands in conjunction with sought-after imperial documents (e.g. basilika grammata) expected to resolve local disputes positioned the emperor as the ultimate arbiter, simultaneously enhancing the perception of the emperor’s power as an embodiment of the state.⁴⁹ This reciprocity is, on another level, expressly stated in the Placitum of Rižana, wherein the Istrians call the Venetians and Dalmatians their “relatives and neighbours.”⁵⁰

These traces of Byzantine presence and their longue durée in the region best fit Beihammer’s definition of an intellectual product of a marginally Byzantine cultural zone, which “did not produce Byzantine documents in the strict sense, but was, because of a strong Byzantine substrate, based on Greek chancery traditions and administrative practices and thus exhibited all kinds of cross-cultural influences and hybrid forms.”⁵¹ Whether we name them Italo-Byzantinism, Latin Byzantinism, or (perhaps most accurately) Adrio-Byzantinism, all of the aforementioned texts abound in discourse that points to strategies of identification with the Empire on different levels (group or individual). However, these written records transgress the limitations of space and time, because they are found across multiple boundaries of different polities along the upper Adriatic.

Notes

· 1 Thomas S. Brown and Neil Christie, “Was There a Byzantine Model of Settlement in Italy?” Mélanges de l’École française de Rome. Moyen-Âge 101, no. 2 (1989): 377–99.

· 2 For an overview of scholarship on Gottschalk with copious references, see Ivan Basić, “Imperium and Regnum in Gottschalk’s Description of Dalmatia,” in Migration, Integration and Connectivity on the Southeastern Frontier of the Carolingian Empire, eds. Danijel Dzino, Ante Milošević, and Trpimir Vedriš (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2018), 170–209. Le virus de l’erreur: la controverse carolingienne sur la double prédestination. Essai d’histoire sociale. Haut Moyen Âge 26, eds. Pierre Chambert-Protat, Jérémy Delmulle, Warren Pézé, and Jérémy C. Thompson (Turnhout: Brepols, 2018), 170–71, nn. 2–3, and the other papers edited in Chambert-Protat et al. (2018).

· 3 Latin text in Oeuvres théologiques et grammaticales de Godescalc d’Orbais. Spicilegium sacrum Lovaniense 20, ed. Cyrille Lambot (Louvain: Spicilegium sacrum Lovaniense, 1945), 169 (hereafter Lambot 1945); English translation in Victor Genke, Introduction: Gottschalk and the controversy over his teaching, in Gotschalk and Gottschalk and a Medieval Predestination Controversy, eds. Victor Genke and Francis X. Gumerlock (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 2010), 33 (hereafter Genke and Gumerlock 2010). See also Basić, “Imperium and Regnum,” 171, n. 4. Gottschalk provided an example from his personal experience: during his stay in Croatia, he witnessed a battle between Trpimir (here styled as rex Sclavorum) and the “people of the Greeks” led by their patricius (representative of the Byzantine theme of Dalmatia or a military expedition sent directly from Constantinople). Incidentally, this is the only extant source on armed conflicts between the Croats and the Byzantines (or Byzantine Dalmatians), which evidently took place in the mid-840s.

· 4 De Praedestinatione, ch. IX, §6. Latin text in Lambot 1945, 208; English translation by Victor Genke in Genke and Gumerlock 2010, 124; Basić, “Imperium and Regnum,” 173–74, 197–98.

· 5 Artificially associating Trpimir as “king of the Slavs” (from the first treatise) with the “kingdom” (from the second one). For a full overview, see Basić, “Imperium and Regnum,” 172–73. The error was exacerbated by the fact that the respective text comprises two successive folios (breaking exactly at the point where the narrative about Venice ends and the one about Dalmatia begins), and the first folio was unaccessible to historians for a long time.

· 6 Željko Rapanić, “Ima li dvojbe oko termina ‘adriobizantizam’?” in Zbornik Tomislava Marasovića, eds. Ivo Babić, Ante Milošević, and Željko Rapanić (Split: Sveučilište u Splitu, Muzej hrvatskih arheoloških spomenika, 2013); Basić, “Imperium and Regnum,” 170–209. See also Ivan Basić, “Sjeverna i srednja Dalmacija u ranome srednjem vijeku,” in Hrvatske zemlje u ranome srednjem vijeku (o. 550 – o. 1150), eds. Zrinka Nikolić Jakus (Zagreb: Matica hrvatska, 2015), 444–45. On the scholarly reception of these conclusions, see Douglas Whalin, Roman Identity from the Arab Conquests to the Triumph of Orthodoxy (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020), 23, 25, 61, 98; Danijel Dzino, From Justinian to Branimir: The Making of the Middle Ages in Dalmatia (London and New York: Routledge, 2021), 164.

· 7 “Epistula Amalherii abbatis ad Hilduinum abbatem,” in Amalarii episcopi opera liturgica omnia, ed. Jean-Michel Hanssens, vol. 1 (Città del Vaticano: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1948), 342 (hereafter “Epistula Amalherii”). Trpimir Vedriš, “Još jedan franački teolog u Dalmaciji: Amalarije iz Metza i njegovo putovanje u Carigrad 813. Godine,” Historijski zbornik 52 (2005): 9–13; Trpimir Vedriš, “Amalarius’ Stay in Zadar Reconsidered,” in Imperial Spheres and the Adriatic Byzantium, the Carolingians and the Treaty of Aachen (812), eds. Mladen Ančić, Jonathan Shepard, and Trpimir Vedriš (London: Routledge, 2018), passim. Francesco Borri, “Dalmatian Romans and Their Adriatic Friends: Some Further Remarks,” in Transformations of Romanness, Early Medieval Regions and Identities, eds. Walter Pohl, Clemens Gantner, Cinzia Grifoni, and Marianne Pollheimer-Mohaupt (Berlin and Boston: DeGruyter, 2018), 250; Ivan Basić, “Amalarius of Metz at the Court of Leo V: A Note on Imperial Ceremonial,” in Aspice hunc opus mirum: Festschrift on the occasion of Nikola Jakšić’s 70th birthday, eds. Ivan Josipović and Miljenko Jurković (Zadar, Zagreb and Motovun: International Research Center for Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages, University of Zadar, 2020), 185–96; Michael McCormick, Origins of the European Economy. Communications and Commerce, ad 300–900 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 138–43, 900, 316, 330, 902. Amalarius’ text contains substantial echoes of the intermediary role of Dalmatia between the Franks, the Holy and the Byzantines, especially in terms of liturgy and ecclesiastical structure – see Basić, “Natpis nadbiskupa Ursa kao izvor za crkvenu povijest ranosrednjovjekovnog Zadra (I. dio),” Starohrvatska prosvjeta, ser. III, 44–45 (2017–2018): 153–79. For more on the position of Dalmatia from the point of view of the imperial periphery, see Dzino, From Justinian to Branimir, passim.

· 8 First noted by Francesco Borri, “‘Neighbors and Relatives’: The Plea of Rižana as a Source for Northern Adriatic Elites,” Mediterranean Studies 17 (2008): 15; Francesco Borri, “Gli Istriani e i loro parenti: Φράγγοι, Romani e Slavi nella periferia di Bisanzio,” Jahrbuch der Österreichischen Byzantinistik 60 (2010): 23; Željko Rapanić, “Kralj Tripimir Venecijanci i Dalmatinci u traktatu teologa Gottschalka iz Orbaisa,” Povijesni prilozi 32 (2013): 63; Hrvoje Gračanin, “Bizant na hrvatskom prostoru u ranome srednjem vijeku,” in Nova zraka u europskom svjetlu. Hrvatske zemlje u ranome srednjem vijeku (oko 550 – oko 1150), ed. Zrinka Nikolić Jakus (Zagreb: Matica hrvatska, 2015), 503.

· 9 Placitum Rizianense, 70.11–13.

· 10 Placitum Rizianense, 74.14–76.18.

· 11 Michael McCormick, “The Imperial Edge: Italo-Byzantine Identity, Movement and Integration, ad 650–950,” in Studies on the Internal Diaspora of the Byzantine Empire, eds. Hélène Ahrweiler and Angeliki E. Laiou (Washington, DC: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 1998), 23.

· 12 Basić, “Dalmatian Romans and Their Adriatic Friends,” 177ff.

· 13 Mladen Ančić, “Abbess Cicha and King Petar Krešimir IV: The Encounter Between Byzantium and the Croatian Kingdom,” in Abbatissa ingenuitate precipua. The Proceedings of the Scientific Colloquium “The 950th Anniversary of the Benedictine Monastery of St. Mary in Zadar (1066–2016)”, eds. Pavuša Vežić and Ivan Josipović (Zadar: University of Zadar/The Monastery of St. Mary in Zadar, 2020), 37.

· 14 Clifford Geertz, Local knowledge. Further Essays in Interpretive Anthropology (New York: Basic Books, 1983), 222.

· 15 Michael McCormick, Eternal Victory. Triumphal Rulership in Late Antiquity, Byzantium, and the Early Medieval West (Cambridge and Paris: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 232; Thomas S. Brown, Gentlemen and Officers. Imperial Administration and Aristocratic Power in Byzantine Italy (Rome: British School in Rome, 1984), 155. These phenomena are discussed at length in a very recent book (Whalin 2020) which, however, appeared too late to be taken fully into account here.

· 16 McCormick, Eternal Victory. Triumphal Rulership in Late Antiquity, 236.

· 17 Another source on the “majestic discourse” is late 8th-century bishop Theodore of Catania. In addition to what was provisionally expounded on Theodore in Basić, “Imperium and Regnum in Gottschalk’s Description of Dalmatia,” 193–95, I have presented my further findings at two conferences: “Graecorum imperio subiecti: Aspects of Byzantine sovereignty in early medieval Dalmatia” (5th International Scientific symposium “Days of Justinian I,” Special thematic strand: Byzantium and the Slavs: Medieval and modern perceptions and receptions, Skopje, 2017) and “Imperial vocabulary on the move: bishop Theodore of Catania and the origins of the early medieval ‘Adriobyzantine’ discourse of the Adriatic basin” (international conference “Byzantium in the Adriatic from the 6th to 12th century,” Split, 2018). Theodore as a source will be discussed in a forthcoming paper.

· 18 For a brief overview of extant seals, see Ibid., 189–90 and nn. 76–79. New examples are being found every so often.

· 19 For a few recent summaries of evidence, see Neven Budak, “One More Renaissance? Dalmatia and the Revival of the European Economy,” in Imperial Spheres and the Adriatic Byzantium, passim. See also Basić, “Imperium and Regnum in Gottschalk’s Description of Dalmatia,” 188. Up until ca. 971–975, the strategoi of the theme of Dalmatia were sent from Constantinople, strengthening administrative contacts. A succinct overview of sources and historiography is provided in Gračanin (2015, 508). Beginning with the establishment of the theme in the 9th century and ending in the last quarter of the 10th century, every strategos of Dalmatia invariably came from Constantinople, was probably Greek, and went through an elaborate investiture ceremony in front of the emperor in the Chrysotriklinos involving the inevitable formula “My Emperorship from God appoints you strategos.”

· 20 Genke and Gumerlock 2010, 165–67; Basić, “Imperium and Regnum in Gottschalk’s Description of Dalmatia,” 187 n. 63.

· 21 Francesko Borri, in “Neighbors and Relatives,” 14–15, stresses a list of nobles of Cittanova and Equilo preserved in the Chronicon Altinate: “the Particiaci, called also Baduarii, who were tribunes, before obtaining the imperial dignity of consuls.” According to Brown, in Gentlemen and Officers, 138–39, in the mid- and late-8th century, all of the governors in Byzantine Italy bore the title consul. A list of similar events assembled by McCormick, Origins of the European Economy, 892–963, attests formal bestowals of imperial titles on Venetian officials from 806 to 897. Stays and sojourns of the members of the Venetian ruling families in Constantinople were frequent.

· 22 Ibid., 255; Magdalena Skoblar, “Patriarchs as patrons: The attribution of the ciboria in Santa Maria delle Grazie at Grado,” in Imperial Spheres and the Adriatic Byzantium, 121–39. For a general overview of political context, see Jadran Ferluga, “L’Istria tra Giustiniano e Carlo Magno,” Arheološki vestnik 43 (1992): 175–90; Harald Krahwinkler, Friaul in Frühmittelalter: Geschichte einer Region vom Ende des fünften bis zum Ende des zehnten Jahrhunderts (Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für österreichische Geschichtsforschung), 30 (Böhlau: Wien/Köln, 1992), 199–243; Lujo Margetić, “Sul passaggio del potere sull’Istria da Bisanzio ai Franchi,” Acta Histriae 2 (1994): 15–24; Krahwinkler, Friaul in Frühmittelalter, 59–81; Maurizio Levak, Slaveni vojvode Ivana. Kolonizacija Slavena u Istri u početnom razdoblju franačke uprave (Zagreb: Leykam, 2007), 79–83; Peter Štih, The Middle Ages Between the Eastern Alps and the Northern Adriatic. Select Papers on Slovene Historiography and Medieval History (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2010), 212–29; Francesco Borri, “L’Adriatico tra Bizantini, Longobardi e Franchi: dalla conquista di Ravenna alla pace di Aquisgrana (751–812),” Bullettino dell’Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo 112 (2010): 2; Maurizio Levak, “Istra i Kvarner u ranome srednjem vijeku,” in Nova zraka u europskom svjetlu, 396–402; Peter Štih, “Imperial Politics and Its Regional Consequences: Istria Between Byzantium and the Franks 788–812,” in Imperial Spheres and the Adriatic Byzantium, 57–72; Ewald Kislinger, “Byzantinische Flotten in der venezianischen Lagune 806–810/811. Zu chronologisch-inhaltlicher Manipulation in den Annales regni Fran-corum,” Millennium 17 (2020): 303–22. On Fortunatus’ biography: Rajko Bratož, “Vpliv oglejske cerkve na vzhodnoalpski in predalpski prostor od 4. do 8. stoletja (2. del),” Zgodovinski časopis 44, no. 4 (1990): 507; Giordano Brunettin, “Il cosiddetto testamento del patriarca Fortunato II di Grado (825),” Memorie storiche Forogiuliesi 71 (1991): 55–62; Krahwinkler, Friaul in Frühmittelalter, 215–20; PmbZ, 599, no. 1907; Harald Krahwinkler, “The Church(es) of Aquileia, Friuli and Istria at the Time of the Riziano Placitum,” Acta Histriae 9 (2001): 65–72; Harald Krahwinkler, …in loco qui dicitur Riziano … Zbor v Rižani pri Kopru leta 804, Die Versammlung in Rižana/Risano bei Koper/Capodistria im Jahre 804 (Koper: Univerza na Primorskem, Znanstveno-raziskovalno središče, Zgodovinsko društvo za južno Primorsko, 2004), 20–25; Harald Krahwinkler, “Patriarch Fortunatus of Grado and the Placitum of Riziano,” Acta Histriae 13, no. 1 (2005): 63–78; Andrea Luigi Berto, In Search of the First Venetians. Prosopography of Early Medieval Venice (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), 425–31; Yuri A. Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires: The Patriarch Fortunatus II of Grado and His ‘Will’,” in Der Ostalpenraum im Frühmittelalter. Herrschaftsstrukturen, Raumorganisation und archäologisch-historischer Vergleich, eds. Maximilian Diesenberger, Stefan Eichert and Katharina Winckler (Forschungen zur Geschichte des Mittelalters) 23 (Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2020), 291–92; Yuri A. Marano, “Le sete del patriarca Fortunato,” in I Longobardi a Venezia. Scritti per Stefano Gasparri, eds. Irene Barbiera, Francesco Borri and Annamaria Pazienza (Haut Moyen Âge) 40 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2020), 283–84; Basić, “Amalarius of Metz at the Court of Leo V,” passim.

· 23 Einhardi Vita Karoli Magni, ed. Oswald Holder-Egger, MGH, Ss rer. Germ. in usum scholarum separatim editi 25 (Hannover – Leipzig: Hahn, 1911), 38–39; cf. (hereafter Vita Karoli). Krahwinkler, Patriarch Fortunatus of Grado, 70.

· 24 Ibid., 71.

· 25 Ibid., 71–72; Štih, The Middle Ages Between the Eastern Alps and the Northern Adriatic, 229.

· 26 Archivio di Stato di Venezia, Secreta – Codex Trevisaneus (Codice Trevisaneo), sign. IT ASVe 4920 012, fol. 29r–30r; Brunettin, “Il cosiddetto testamento,” 62–73; Krahwinkler, “in loco qui dicitur Riziano,” 13–15. Coincidentally, both the Placitum of Rižana and this text have reached modernity by means of the so-called Codex Trevisaneus, a 15th- to 16th-century collection of miscellaneous documents pertaining the early medieval history of the northern Adriatic arch. Fortunatus II was in fact one of the major players present at the placitum of Rižana in 804. The text of the placitum was actually composed on his request (ex iussione domini Fortunati sanctissimi patriarchae) by the scribe Peter, Deacon of Grado, Placitum Rizianense, 81.17–18; Krahwinkler, Patriarch Fortunatus of Grado, 63–78. Annamaria Pazienza, “Archival Documents as Narrative: The Sources of the Istoria Veneticorum and the Plea of Rižana,” in Venice and Its Neighbors from the 8th to 11th Century. Through Renovation and Continuity, eds. Sauro Gelichi and Stefano Gasparri (Leiden: Brill, 2018), 46, hypothesizes that this is why a copy was kept in the patriarchal archive, together with “Fortunatus’ testament,” where both documents were consulted in ca. 1000 by John the Deacon, author of the Istoria Veneticorum. She further assumes that the other documents from Codex Trevisaneus originated from the patriarchal archive, some of them belonging to the private archive of Fortunatus II (Pazienza, “Archival Documents as Narrative,” 40 and nn. 62–63). See also Yuri A. Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 292, and Marano, “Le sete del patriarca Fortunato,” 284.

· 27 Roberto Cessi, Documenti relativi alla storia di Venezia anteriori al Mille (secoli V–IX) (Testi e documenti di storia e di letteratura latina medioevale) 1 (Padova: Gregoriana Editrice, 1940), no. 45, 75–78 (hereafter Cessi 1940); Brunettin, “Il cosiddetto testamento,” 52–53, 63. Cessi’s edition of the text, however, contains several oversights and errors (on which see Ibid., 53–54, n. 3), so henceforth I will refer to the superior edition by Brunettin (Commonitorium patriarchae Fortunati Gradensis). The “will” was edited once more by Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 304–6.

· 28 In extenso: Brunettin, “Il cosiddetto testamento,” 73–79, esp. 74 and n. 44. Cf. also Pazienza, “Archival Documents as Narrative,” 39; Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 292–93.

· 29 Commonitorium patriarchae Fortunati Gradensis, 81, ll. 52–54. Cf. Brunettin’s comment interpreting porticus as narthex: Giordano Brunettin, “Il cosiddetto testamento,” 105. Unfortunately, Brunettin does not provide any comment on the term sanctum imperium. Marano, in “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 306, interprets porticus as the church atrium.

· 30 With the notable exception of Yuri A. Marano; cf. Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 289–308. See also Marano, “Le sete del patriarca Fortunato,” 15–24.

· 31 Michael McCormick, Origins of the European Economy, 256 and n. 61, 700–1. Michael McCormick designated this as “Venetianism,” whereas I am more inclined to call it “Byzantinism” (see later discussion). McCormick did not comment upon other instances of similar phrases present either in Fortunatus’ “will” or in the letters of his successor Venerius. Marano, “Le sete del patriarca Fortunato,” 291, proposes a date in late 803, during Fortunatus’ meeting with Charlemagne in Salz, as a setting whereupon the patriarch obtained the needed lead. The same author noticed that the gift of lead was at that time “a privilege reserved for only the most distinguished churchmen,” pointing to cases such as Aachen, Saint-Riquier, St. Martin at Tours, and St. Peter’s in Rome (Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 294, 302).

· 32 Commonitorium patriarchae Fortunati Gradensis, 83, ll. 124–27.

· 33 We hear of them from earlier sources on Fortunatus; see Basić, “Patriarch or Bishop? Aemilianus of Pula,” 164–65, and Yuri A. Marano “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 292. An excellent interpretation of the last passage is given by Brunettin, “Il cosiddetto testamento,” 118–20.

· 34 Cessi 1940, no. 46, 79–81. Both this and the following letter are (partially) paraphrased in Kos 1906, 74, 76, nos. 87, 90. On this and the previous Carolingian privileges of immunity in favor of Grado, see Classen 1985, 91–93; Krahwinkler, “The Church(es) of Aquileia,” 69.

· 35 On Venerius, see Jean-Charles Picard, Le souvenir des évêques: sépultures, listes épiscopales et culte des évêques en Italie du Nord, des origines au Xe siècle (Rome: École française de Rome, 1988), 418, 424, and most recently Berto, In Search of the First Venetians, 433. He may be the same person as Venerius diaconus mentioned in Fortunatus’ “testament” (Commonitorium patriarchae Fortunati Gradensis, 83, l. 97). The replies of Louis the Pious to Venerius are published in Cessi 1940, nos. 47, 49, 81–82, 83.

· 36 Cessi 1940, 79:

Quamvis enim sciam, clementissimi domini, humanis institutionibus non egere et sincerissima de abundantia Spiritus sancti auxisse doctrina, officii tamen mei est et patefacere, quae intelligitis, et petere ea, quae nobis vestra sancta imperialis potestas largire valet, ut ignis ille, quem Dominus veniens misit in terra, motu crebrae meditationis agitatus, sic concalescat, ut ferveat, et sic inflammetur, ut luceat.

· 37 Cessi 1940, 80: Ita ut, ubi sanctae ecclesiae nostrae facultatula sive episcopia sub ipsius sancto imperio constituta, quae a priscis temporibus possidere visa est, ita in perpetuo confirmare decrevit.

· 38 Cessi 1940, 80:

Propterea enim supliciter imploramus serenitatem sancti imperii domini nostri, ut propter Deum et dulcissima anima vestra habeamus preceptum de vestra imperiali potestate, ut, sicut ille benignissimus suis temporibus erga sanctorum monumenta epigrammae terminum fecit, ita et vos per vestrae mercedis augmentum preceptum genitoris vestri consolidare iubeatis, ut, sicut antecessores mei cum suis sacerdotibus gratulaverunt temporibus suis, ita nos nostrisque temporibus de largitate serenitatis vestrae exultare mereamur, quemadmodum favor vester cuncto orbi terrarum perlustrat, quatenus et a Deo vobis maxima merces commulata maneat et dominum Deum, possessorem caeli et terrae, pro stabilitate et sospitate vestri magni culminis arcem, seu vestrae dilectissimae prolis beatus Marcus evangelista et beatus Hermagora, archisacerdos et martyr, cum quadraginta sociis suis (sanctorum veneranda corpora hic pio amore amplectimur), ante tribunal eius vobis intercessores existant.

· 39 Cessi 1940, 80:

Et nos, licet indigni, una cum episcopis et sacerdotibus nostris cunctaque christianissima plebs pari voce coniuncti die noctuque pro vestro pietatis imperio et christianissimo vestro pallatio seu magnificentissimis comitibus et curia et plebe fideli seu cuncto populo domini nostri Yesu Christi misericordiam exorare non cessemus.

· 40 Cessi 1940, 80–81:

Direximus autem apud sacra imperialia vestigia domini nostri missum nostrum Petrum una cum Iusto presbitero, misso Agnelli et Iustiniani fidelium vestrorum ac filiorum nostrorum, de quibus quasi presentaliter domini nostri osculantes vestigia queso commendatos habere, ad quorum et nostrae iniunctionis eloquium, mei benignissimi imperatores et domini, dignas iubeatis inclinare aures tam verbotenus quam quod et per capitulare designatum plenissima eis adsit imperialis vestrae potestatis credulitas.

· 41 Cessi 1940, no. 48, 82–83. According to Cessi, this is basically a duplicate of the previous letter, containing the same exalted forms of address and arranged in the same order, except for the last passage, which deals with current matters. In his edition, Cessi left out all of the passages repeated verbatim from the previous letter. These, of course, repeat several instances of “majestic discourse.”

· 42 Chronicon Altinate, 17 = Origo, 125; Salvatore Cosentino, Prosopografia dell’Italia bizantina (493–804), vol. 1 (Bologna: Editrice Lo Scarabeo, 1996), 480; Daniela Rando, “Fortu-nato [II],” in Dizionario biografico degli Italiani, vol. 49 (Roma: Istituto della enciclopedia italiana, 1997), 235; Berto, In Search of the First Venetians, 424–25; Marano, “At the Crossroad of Two Empires,” 291.

· 43 John the Deacon, Istoria Veneticorum, II.24: Prelibatus siquidem Fortunatus patriarcha acriter dolens interfectionem sui decessoris et parentis; Chronicon Altinate, 17 = Origo, 125. Cf. Cosentino, Pros-opografia dell’Italia bizantina, 479. See also Berto, In Search of the First Venetians, 424, 425.

· 44 France Kos, Gradivo za zgodovino Slovencev v srednjem veku II (l. 801–1000) (Ljubljana: Leonova družba, 1906), no. 84, 71–72. According to Dandolo, he was primus patriarcha, qui de nova Venetia originem duxit. Moreover, both sources give information about Venerius’ father: Transmundus (Chronicon Altinate); Basilius Transmundus sive Stornatus (Dandolo).

· 45 Cf. Sylviane Lazard, “De l’origine des hellénismes d’Agnello,” Revue de linguistique romane 40 (1976): 255–56, on the background of Agnello’s Hellenisms. It must be added, following Lazard’s caveat, that Agnello’s family belonged to a long line of Greek-speaking officials, so the Hellenisms exhibited by Agnello in his 9th-century narrative should at least in part be ascribed to his ancestral bilingual traditions. See also Sylviane Lazard, “Grecismi dell’esarcato di Ravenna,” Studi romagnoli 31 (1980): 59–74, and Sylviane Lazard, “Les byzantinismes lexicaux de l’Exarchat de Ravenne et de la Pentapole,” Byzantion 56 (1986): 354–426.

· 46 It was a complex political landscape, reflecting – more often than not – the concept of nonlinear frontiers and highly dependent on an ever-changing network of civitates, castella, and territoria and their roles in lines of communication. See, for example, Michael Kulikowski, “Ethnicity, Rulership, and Early Medieval Frontiers,” in Borders, Barriers, and Ethnogenesis: Frontiers in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages, ed. Florin Curta (Studies in the Early Middle Ages) 12 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2005), 247, 248; Walter Pohl, “Frontiers and Ethnic Identities: Some Final Considerations,” in Borders, Barriers, and Ethnogenesis (Turnhout: Brepols, 2005), 261.

· 47 Stouraitis 2018, 133:

Within the framework of a centripetal and hierarchical vision of political community, neither ethno-linguistic Greekness nor even Christian orthodoxy (Chalcedonian creed), as constitutive elements of Byzantine élite culture, functioned as criteria of exclusion of persons or groups from acquiring the status and the basic “rights” of Roman subjects or from becoming members of the Roman élite respectively.

Cf. also Carolina Cupane, “Ἡ τῶν Ῥωμαίων γλῶσσα,” in Byzantina Mediterranea. Festschrift für Johannes Koder zum 65. Geburtstag, eds. Klaus Belke, Ewald Kislinger, Andreas Külzer, and Maria A. Stassinopoulou (Wien, Köln and Weimar: Böhlau, 2007), 137–56; Johanes Koder, “Remarks on Linguistic Romanness in Byzantium,” in Transformations of Romanness: Early Medieval Regions and Identities (Berlin and Boston: DeGruyter, 2018), 111–21.

· 48 I am using the term “literacy” in accordance with Warren Brown, “Manuscripts and the Past in Early Medieval Europe: The Case of Lay People and Documents,” in Summer School in the Study of Old Books. Proceedings, eds. Mirna Willer and Marijana Tomić (Zadar: University of Zadar, 2010), 17–18:

[F]ocusing on whether and how lay people might have used documents allows us to sidestep the question of who in the early Middle Ages was “literate” and what literacy in an early medieval context even meant. Literacy and document use are not the same thing, and the latter does not necessarily require the former. Using documents means employing written documents for pragmatic purposes without necessarily being able to read any of them beyond their titles, or even any of them at all. It means simply believing that documents were necessary for certain purposes, knowing where to get them and what to do with them, and, if necessary, storing them for future use.

Cf. also Patrick Geary, Phantoms of Remembrance: Memory and Oblivion at the End of the First Millennium (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 81–114; Rosamond McKitterick, The Carolingians and the Written Word (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 3–17.

· 49 In this vein, Catherine Holmes, “Political Literacy,” in The Byzantine World, ed. Paul Stephenson (London and New York: Routledge, 2010), 145–46, is discussing the interrelationship between peripheral elites and the imperial centre and their side effects (oft unintended) in terms of a “petitioning culture,” which dovetails rather well with the Dalmatians’, Venetians’, and Istrians’ usage of imperium, regnum, and dominatio.

· 50 Placitum Rizianense, 79.15–17: Unde omnes d(e)venimus i(n) paup(er)tate(m), et d(e)rident nostros parentes et (con)vicini nostri Venetias et Dalmatias, et(iam) Greci, sub cuius antea fuimus potestate. Francesco Borri has interpreted this reciprocity in terms of a wider community focused on littoral position and maritime connections:

Facing the sea, the Istrians shared similarities with the inhabitants of further Adriatic enclaves of Roman tradition. Although part of a face-to-face based society, the aristocrats of eighth-century Istria presented themselves as part of an encompassing Adriatic community. Peculiar anthroponomy, dignities, habits, and rituals clustered around the major knots of Adriatic communication in the Venetiae, the Romania (the coast of Ravenna), and the Dalmatian harbor towns. They were a symptomatic expression of an allegiance and an affective relationship to the empire as well as a will to belong.

(Borri, “The Waterfront of Istria: Sea and Identity in the Post-Roman Adriatic,” 55, 56)

Cf. in a similar vein, Borri, “Neighbors and Relatives,” 3–4; Borri, “Gli Istriani e i loro parenti,” 2; Borri, “Dalmatian Romans and Their Adriatic Friends,” 251. In general: Shepard, “Bunkers, Open Cities and Boats in Byzantine Diplomacy,” 11–44.

· 51 Alexander Beihammer, “Byzantine Diplomatics,” in Report Presented at the Round Table Instrumenta Studiorum of the 22nd International Congress of Byzantine Studies, Sofia, 22–27 August 2011, www.propylaeum.de/en/byzantine-studies/thematic-portals/instrumenta-studiorum/articles, 1–9, 7–8. On Italo-Byzantine identity, see McCormick, “The Imperial Edge: Italo-Byzantine Identity,” 17–52. On Latin Byzantinism, see Gherardo Ortalli, “Realtà veneziana e bizantinità Latina,” in L’Adriatico dalla tarda antichità all’età carolingia. Atti del convegno di studio, Brescia 11–13 ottobre 2001, eds. Gian-Pietro Brogiolo and Paolo Delogu (Roma: All’Insegna del Giglio, 2005), 309–20. See Borri, “Neighbors and Relatives,” 3–4. On the concept of Adrio-Byzantinism, see Ejnar Dyggve, History of Salonitan Christianity (Oslo: Aschenhoug, 1951), 3, 31, 81; Željko Rapanić, “Ima li dvojbe oko termina ‘adriobizantizam’?” in Zbornik Tomislava Marasovića, eds. Ivo Babić, Ante Milošević, and Željko Rapanić (Split: Sveučilište u Splitu, Muzej hrvatskih arheoloških spomenika, 2002), 171–82. Emilio Marin, “L’‘Adriobyzantinisme’ à reconsidérer,” in Ars auro gemmisque prior. Mélanges en hommage à Jean-Pierre Caillet, eds. Chrystèle Blondeau, Brigitte Boissavit-Camus, Véronique Boucherat, and Panayota Volti (Zagreb and Motovun: International Research Center for Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages, 2013), 105–10. For reasons of space, the issues of conceptualization of Romanness in current historiography cannot be tackled here. See Anthony Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium: The Transformations of Greek Identity and the Reception of the Classical Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), passim. Anthony Kaldellis, Romanland. Ethnicity and Empire in Byzantium (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2019); Yannis Stouraitis, “Reinventing Roman Ethnicity in High and Late Medieval Byzantium,” Medieval Worlds 5 (2014): 70–94; Yannis Stouraitis, “Roman Identity in Byzantium: A Critical Approach,” Byzantinische Zeitschrift 107, no. 1 (2014): 175–220. Good overviews are provided by Pohl, “Introduction: Early Medieval Romanness,” 3–39; Koray Durak and Ivana Jevtić, “Identity and the Other in Byzantine Studies: An Introduction,” in Identity and the Other in Byzantium. Papers from the Fourth International Sevgi Gönül Byzantine Studies Symposium, eds. Koray Durak and Ivana Jevtić (Istanbul: Koç University Stavros Niarchos Foundation Center for Antique and Byzantine Studies, 2019), 3–22; and Milan Vukašinović, “The Better Story for Romans and Byzantinists?” Scandinavian Journal of Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 6 (2020): 185–210.