SOURCE: "Hroswitha of Gandersheim: Her Life, Her Times, Her Works" in Hroswitha of Gandersheim: Her Life, Times, and Works, and Comprehensive Bibliography, The Hroswitha Club, 1965, pp. 3-34.

[In the following essay, Haight surveys the life an(d writings of Hroswitha, terming her "the most remarkable woman of her time."]

The most remarkable woman of her time was Hroswitha, the tenth-century canoness of the Benedictine monastery of Gandersheim, Saxony. She was the earliest poet known in Germany and the first dramatist after the fall of the ancient stage of classical times.

In 1494 Conrad Celtes, the Renaissance humanist and first poet laureate of Germany, found an early and incomplete manuscript (Munich Codex) of the work of this "German Sappho," as he called her, in the monastery of Saint Emmeram at Regensburg. He published it in 1501, but unfortunately changed the order of her works and made "corrections." It had been lying forgotten for almost six hundred years and her name had slipped into obscurity.

Her writings, as far as they are known, include eight sacred legends in verse, six dramas in rhymed prose, two historical poems, three prose prefaces, several dedications, and finally a poem which compresses The Revelation [Vision] of St. John into thirty-five lines. His Eminence Cardinal Gasquet said of her: "Hroswitha's works have a claim to an eminent place in medieval literature, and do honour to her sex, to the age in which she lived, and to the vocation which she followed."

All we know of this gifted poet is what she tells us in her writings, and what the historians have pieced together by aligning their contents with the scant annals of her time. It has been deduced that she was born about 935, for she says in a preface that her Abbess, the Princess Gerberga, whose known date of birth was 940, was younger than she. The date of her death is also uncertain, but has been placed about 1001-1002.

The tenth century has been called the Dark Ages, but due to the Carolingian renaissance, Germany had become a country of enlightenment and learning. Although it was only at the end of the eighth century that the tribes accepted Christianity—Saxony being the last to do so—thus submitting to Charlemagne's grim threat of acceptance or death, the chieftains, within a few decades, were forgetting paganism and were building churches and endowing monasteries under native bishops.

At the end of the ninth century twenty cloisters were recorded in Saxony, eleven of them nunneries—containing both Benedictine straight nuns and canonesses. One of the first was Gandersheim, the Abbey of Hroswitha, who was to record its history later in her historical poem Primordia Coenobii Gandeshemensis. it was established first at Brunshausen on the River Gande; later Bishop Altfrid laid the cornerstone of Gandersheim at a more advantageous site about twenty miles from the present city of Hildesheim. The monastery was consecrated on All Saints' Day in 881. Thankmar wrote about the canonesses being moved at that time from Brunshausen to Gandersheim, although some of the nuns were presumed to have remained behind for a time.

The monastery was founded by Duke Liudolf at the request of his Frankish wife Oda and her mother Aeda. Hroswitha says in her Primordia that Liudolf was, from his earliest years, in the service of the great Louis I, King of the Franks, and was elevated by him to distinguished honors. Aeda, who was deeply religious, had been visited by a vision of Saint John the Baptist who informed her that her famous progeny would someday establish a cloister for saintly maidens. Consequently, Liudolf and Oda made a pilgrimage to Rome to acquire sacred relics and receive the blessing of Pope Sergius II. They petitioned the Frankish King Louis (Ludovic the German, grandson of Charlemagne) for an introduction to the Pope, fitted out a large traveling retinue, and prepared valuable presents. Much impressed with the Duke and his Lady (Hroswitha recounts), the Pope gave them the bones "of two mighty shepherds, Anastasius, the most holy bishop of his throne, and his co-apostle, the sacred Innocent." The holy relics were carried in triumph to Saxony, and Anastasius and Innocent became the patron saints of Gandersheim. The monastery became one of the richest and most distinguished of the convents founded by Liudolf, whose descendants formed the dynasty that ruled Germany in Hroswitha's time. His son Otto the Illustrious lived to see the monastery completed.

Members of the families of the great Saxon patrons often entered their religious establishments, and the first three Abbesses of Gandersheim were daughters of Liudolf and Oda. Hathmodo, the eldest, was born in 840 and was consecrated in 852 at the age of twelve. Goetting, in his Die Anfaenge, says that she was sent to be educated in the convent of Herford, which was from the beginning closely connected with the Kloster Corvey, where her brother Agius was a monk. Herford became the model for the many Saxon Kanonissenstifte, founded later. Agius also tells about Herford in his Vita.

Hathmodo was followed as Abbess at Gandersheim by her sisters Gerberga I and by Christine, who died in 919. They in turn were followed by Hroswitha I [Hroswitha I, the fourth Abbess of Gandersheim, ruled from 919 to 926. It is not known if she was related in any way to the canoness Hroswitha who is the subject of this book.] and Wendelgard, and it was not until Princess Gerberga II became Abbess in 959 that a member of the royal family ruled again. Gerberga II, the friend and teacher of Hroswitha, was the daughter of Henry, Duke of Bavaria, the niece of Otto I, Henry's brother, and the granddaughter of the great Saxon king, Henry the Fowler, who ruled from 919 to 936. Having won leadership by checking the raids of the wild Hungarians and driving back the heathen Slavs, Henry, the Duke of Bavaria, was given the crown and sceptre by Eberhard, Duke of the Franks, after the death of his brother Conrad, King of Germany.

Otto I, following in his father Henry's footsteps, defeated their enemies once and for all, quelled civil war, conquered northern Italy, and was crowned King of the Lombards in Pavia, the capital, where in 951 he married Adelaide, widow of the Italian King Lothar II (his first wife Edith of England had died a few years before). The following year Otto I received the Imperial Crown from Pope John XII in appreciation for restoring law and order in Italy, and became the founder of the Holy Roman Empire of the German people. Under him the arts flourished and books were penned. He was a great statesman, a patron of learning, and a benefactor of the church, although he deposed Pope John XII for treachery.

Hroswitha wrote the Gesta Ottonis, a history of his reign. In Celtes' 1501 publication of her works, Albrecht Dürer pictured her kneeling before the Emperor to present her book while the Abbess Gerberga II looked on. It was during this reign, when Wendelgard was Abbess, that Hroswitha entered the monastery. If the conjecture is correct that it was in 955, it was the year in which Otto II was born. Later Hroswitha and Otto II were to become great friends.

Otto II, who was also crowned Holy Roman Emperor to rule jointly with his father, married Theophano, daughter of the Byzantine Emperor Romanus II. She had great influence and introduced many refinements from the court at Constantinople, such as the wearing of silks and the taking of baths, as well as Greek art and customs. After the death of Otto II in 983, Theophano ruled for Otto III as co-regent with the boy's grandmother, Adelaide.

It is interesting to note the various foreign influences introduced into the monastery during the reign of the three Ottos through their conquests and their marriages. Archbishop Bruno of Cologne brought many scholars to Gandersheim, where they contributed to the atmosphere of learning and literary activity which surrounded Hroswitha. She tells of her association with the scholars, churchmen, and royal personages who came and went, for the court and monastery were closely allied. We know that Greek was taught to the Abbess Gerberga and her sister Hedwig, and it is possible that Hroswitha learned the language as well, for she used Greek sources for some of her stories.

Gandersheim was a free Abbey, which means that the Abbess was directly responsible to the King rather than to the church. However, in 947 Otto I freed the Abbey from royal rule and gave the Abbess supreme authority. She had her court of law, sent her men-at-arms to battle, coined her own money (some of which is still extant), and had a right to a seat in the Imperial Diet. Goetting, Algermissen, and other historians of the ninth- and tenth-century cloisters refer to Gandersheim as containing Benedictine straight nuns as well as can-onesses. The discipline of the latter order was not as strict; the canonesses were only required to take vows of chastity and obedience, and not that of poverty. This gave them freedom to be a part of the world, and yet protected from it by the sacred veil of virginity. The canonesses were allowed to receive guests, to go and come with permission, to own books, to own property, and were permitted to have servants, although they lived a communal life and took part in the daily recitation of the Divine Office.

We learn from the Catholic Encyclopedia that "towards the end of the eighth century the title of canoness is found for the first time, and was given to those communities of women, who while they professed a common life, yet did not carry out to the full extent the original rule of Saint Anthony of Hippo written in 423." Conrad Celtes and other biographers have called Hroswitha a "nun" as the term was broadly used in the Middle Ages to denote one who lived in a nunnery, regardless of which vows she had taken. The priest Eberhard referred to Gandersheim and neighboring convents in his chronicle of 1215 as "Kanonissenkonvent, Kanonissenkloster and Kanonissenstift." These convents were renowned for their learning and for the excellence of their dedicated teachers.

Nothing is known of Hroswitha's background except that she must have been of noble birth: the canoness convents only accepted novices from noble families. It is not known if she was related to Hroswitha I, the fourth Abbess of Gandersheim, who ruled from 919 to 926. Hroswitha's name has been spelled in many different ways, but she called herself "Clamor Validus Gandersheimensis," the strong voice of Gandersheim, and she mentioned her own name six times in her writings. Dr. Kurt Kronenberg says that the reason her name and works may have remained unknown for so many years was because before the twelfth century it was not the custom to record the names of any except highly placed persons, such as royalty and church dignitaries; although Hroswitha was a great scholar who made Gandersheim famous, she was only a canoness.

She probably entered the cloister when very young, as her skill in Latin points to many years of training under teachers well versed in Latin prosody. Her knowledge of classical and religious literature is evidence that Gandersheim had a rich collection of manuscripts, and the library must have been the center of her intellectual life in the cloister. Dr. Robert Fife said: "Judged by any standard Hroswitha's range of reading was wide and diversified and must have included Virgil's Aeneid, and possibly the Georgics, the Eclogues, Ovid's Metamorphoses and Terence's comedies, which she informs us influenced the writing of her plays. She probably read the writers of the early Christian centuries like Prudentius and Venantius Fortunatus. Above all, she seems to be indebted to the great Roman philosopher and statesman of the sixth century, Boethius, whose adherence to Christianity is much doubted by modern historians, but whom Hroswitha's contemporaries revered as a martyr to the Faith. She certainly had some introduction into Scholastic philosophy, mathematics, astronomy and especially music, of which she has shown technical knowledge. But what her young imagination seized upon most avidly was the Apocryphal stories of Christ and the Apostles and above all, the legends of the Saints, familiar reading in the churches and the cloisters of the Middle Ages." The legends, reflecting the triumphs in purity of many martyrs through their faith, filled her with religious ecstasy which is echoed in her solemn and impassioned verse. To her, chastity was the crown of the holy life.

Except for a few intercalated stanzas, Hroswitha's poetry is all in the heroic measures of the classical world, the dactylic hexameter, or in the elegiac verse, composed of two-lined strophes alternately dactylic hexameter and pentameter. She took her patterns from Virgil and the classical authors, but used the rhymed modification that was popular among early medieval writers.

There is no doubt that Hroswitha wrote the eight legends in verse first. The first five were written with a preface and a dedication to Gerberga II, and the last three carried an additional dedication. This modest poet tells in her self-revealing preface, as translated by Sister M. Gonsalva Wiegand, O.S.F.:

This little volume, adorned with but slight charm of style, but nevertheless labored upon, with no little effort, I offer for the criticism of those kindly and learned minds who take pleasure, not in exposing to ridicule a writer's faults but rather in correcting them. For I admit that I have made many errors not only in prosody but also in literary composition, and that there is much to be discovered in this collection which is deserving of severe censure. But by admitting my shortcomings I may expect a ready pardon, and a kindly correction of my errors.

Moreover, if the objection is made that, according to the judgment of some, portions of this work have been borrowed from Apocryphal sources, to this I would answer that I have erred through ignorance and not through reprehensible presumption. For when I started to weave the thread of this collection, I was not aware of the fact that the authenticity of the material upon which I planned to work was questionable. When I discovered the real state of affairs, I declined to discard my subject matter, on the plea that what appears to be false, may eventually be proved to be true.

Under such conditions, my need of the assistance of many in defending this little work now completed is in exact proportion to my lack of native ability for the task at its inception. For as I was both young in years and not much advanced in learning, I did not have the courage to make known my intention by consulting any of the learned, for fear that they would put a stop to my work because of its crudeness of style.

Unknown to others and secretly, so to speak, I worked alone. Sometimes I composed with great effort, again I destroyed what I had poorly written; and thus I strove according to my ability, scarcely adequate though that was, none the less to complete a composition from the thoughts in the writing with which I had become acquainted within the confines of our monastery at Gandersheim: first through the instructive guidance of our learned and kindly teacher Rikkardis, and of others who taught in her stead; and then through the gracious considerations of the royal Gerberga, under whose rule as Abbess I am living at present. Though she is younger in years than I am, yet, as befits a niece of the Emperor, she is farther advanced in learning, and she it was who right kindly instructed me in those various authors whom she herself studied under the guidance of learned teachers.

Even though the art of prosody may seem difficult and arduous for one of my feeble sex, nevertheless, relying in my own strength, I have attempted to sing the songs of this little collection in the dactylic strains, solicitous that the slight talent of ability given me by Heaven should not lie idle in the dark recesses of the mind and thus be destroyed by the rust of neglect, I submitted it under the mallet of ready devotion, so that thus it might sound some little cord of Divine praise. Thus, though I had not the opportunity to achieve any other gain through use of that talent, it might at least be transformed into an instrument of value at the end.

Wherefore, gentle reader, whosoever thou mayest be, if thou art truly wise before God, do not hesitate to lend the assistance of thy correcting power to the poor page which lacks the skill of a master hand. If, however, thou findest something which is worthy of approval, give credit to God for this success and at the same time ascribe all the blemishes to my lack of care.

Let this be done, not in a spirit of censure, but of kindliness; for the keen edge of censure is blunted when it encounters the humility of self-depreciation.

Then Hroswitha addresses her Abbess.

Dedication to Gerberga: Hail, illustrious offspring of a royal race! Gerberga, renowned for thy character and thy learning. Fostering Mistress, do thou accept with kindly mien these little verses which I offer for thy correction, and do thou graciously direct the crude measures of her whom thine excellent precepts instruct. And when thou art indeed wearied with thy manifold labors, do thou deign to recreate thyself in the conning of these measures, and attempt to purify the unlovely muse and to uphold her by the prestige of thine office.

Thus may the zeal of the pupil enhance the praise of the mistress, and the poems of the devoted disciple, the praise of the teacher.

The Eight Sacred Legends

Hroswitha used poetic freedom in the psychological treatment of her characters and their actions. Her writings are varied in subject and are filled with miracles. The first poem, Maria, she tells us, was taken from the Apocryphal Gospel of Saint James and is in honor of the Virgin Mary. After an impassioned appeal to the "Illustrious Mother of the King, the resplendent Star of the Sea," Hroswitha tells with humble piety of the miraculous birth of the Virgin, her marriage, the Birth of the Christ-child, and their flight into Egypt. This is followed by a short but tender narrative of The Ascension of our Lord, translated, she says, by John the Bishop from Greek into Latin. She ends with the appeal, "May he whoever reads these lines, say with a pitying heart: Gentle King, have mercy on poor Hroswitha and spare her, and grant that she may with grace from Heaven continue to sing Thy Divine praises, who in verse has set forth Thy Marvels."

Her third legend, drawn from the store of marvelous narratives from which The Acts of the Saints were assembled, tells of Gongolf, a Frankish leader in the Merovingian age in France, who won all hearts by his beauty and godliness. His beautiful but faithless wife plotted against him with a lover of low descent who murdered the saint, and the guilty ones fled. However, divine justice follows swiftly. By heaven's decree the murderer "poured out bowels and heart, so lately puffed with pride and sin," and when the wicked consort vents her scorn upon the pilgrims at the wonder-working tomb of the martyr, she is condemned to bring forth loathsome sounds "so that she, who had refused to maintain due chastity, was a source of uncontrolled ridicule to all."

It will be seen that some of those whom Hroswitha calls "saints" are not saints of the Church, but saints in the sense used by Saint Paul in his Epistle to the Romans, in which he calls all Christians "Saints."

The next poem deals with a more recent martyr, the Spanish youth Pelagius, who fell victim to a lecherous Moorish despot. Hroswitha said that she had heard the story from a visitor from Cordova who had been an eyewitness, hence the realistic description. When the Christian youth repelled the Mohammedan ruler, he was condemned to death; his execution was attended by a series of miracles. Pelagius was hurled by a catapult high over the walls of the city, and fell upon the rocks unharmed. He was then beheaded, "while his soul soars aloft to realms of celestial glory where no words of piety can describe the gleam of his laurel crown, coruscant with the chastity which he had so well maintained."

The Fall and Conversion of Theophilus is the last poem in this group. It is based on the old Greek story of a bond with the Devil whereby earthly joys are given in return for eternal damnation. Theophilus was the first of the medieval figures to become the hero of this theme—one which was repeated in succeeding years down to Goethe's Faust. Jealousy and ambition drove him to accept the aid of the Evil One, but God did not desert the recreant soul in whose heart good blazed into penitence. The Holy Virgin yielded to his prayers and forced the Devil to return the contract. Hroswitha's penetration of the agonies he suffered in his final ascent to sanctity is most touching.

Hroswitha dedicated the last three of the eight poems to her beloved Abbess: "Behold, I bring to thee, Gerberga, my Lady, new verses, thus adding songs to the songs I have been commissioned to write; and how a wretched sinner won loving forgiveness, I joyfully sing in dactylic strains; do not choose to spurn these, even though they be exceedingly crude, but do thou praise with gentle heart the works of God."

The first poem in this group, Basilius, has again the Faustian theme of the conflict between good and evil. A rich man of Caesarea, wishing to save the soul of his only daughter whom he loved with deep affection, "planned to associate her with the holy maidens who were consecrated to Christ by the sacred veil of virginity and protected in the narrow enclosure of the monastery." However, her servant conceived a passion for her and appealed to the Devil, who planted a reciprocal passion in the breast of the innocent maiden. Hroswitha understands well the human frailties of the world and unravels the plot with great dexterity, and good triumphs over evil.

The seventh legend was altered from an old Vita and tells the vivid story of Dionysius of Athens, said to have been converted by Saint Paul and "subsequently chosen bishop of a Christian flock." The Pope sent him to Paris to convert the Gauls and a struggle ensued between paganism and Christianity, "but the fierce deceit of the ancient serpent raged thereupon in indignation that he should now lose so many souls which he had previously been holding captive in the bitter snares of error." Consequently Dionysius was beheaded. "Then the headless trunk of the dead pontiff raised itself in calm beauty, and lifting its own head in its strong arms—and passing over the tedious distance of two miles—it came to a spot fit for the preservation of that body."

In the last of the poems, Agnes, "a virgin who, desiring to despise the empty vanities of a perishable world and the luxury of the frail flesh," suffered martyrdom in defense of her virginity. Hroswitha tells in a most worldly fashion of how Agnes, having refused the offer of marriage from a pagan youth, was "deprived of her garments and with body entirely exposed to be dragged in the midst of a great concourse of people that had gathered, and to be shut up in the dark den of a brothel, in which wanton youths, maddened with passion, delighted in association with evil women. But Christ bringing consolation to His own spouse, did not suffer her to be touched by any one of these revelers. For when she was thus exposed—immediately the luxuriant hair, which hung in loose tresses—grew longer, and in its descent reached the tender soles of her feet so that her entire body was covered." She was condemned to be burned, but when the flames failed to burn her, she was slain with a sword, and an angel bore her soul aloft with celestial splendor, while she waved farewell to her parents.

In a brief note placed between the legends and the plays, Hroswitha speaks of her sources: "I found all the material I have used in this book in various ancient works by authors of reputation, with the exception of the story of the martyrdom of St. Pelagius, which has been told here in verse. The details of this were supplied to me by an inhabitant of the town where the Saint was put to death. This truthful stranger assured me that he had not only seen Pelagius, whom he described as the most beautiful of men, face to face, but had been a witness of his end. If anything has crept into my other compositions, the accuracy of which can be challenged, it is not my fault, unless it be a fault to have reproduced the statements of unreliable authorities."

The Six Rhymed Dramas

Hroswitha's six short dramas in rhymed prose are considered her most important and original contribution to literature. They are certainly the best known of her works, as they have been produced on the stage from time to time with success. They have been proved theatrically practical, the dialogue is lively and at times stirring, and the structure has continuity. It is not known if the plays were ever produced during the lifetime of Hroswitha, but she must have written them with that purpose in mind, as a few stage directions are found attached to Gallicanus and Calimachus in the Munich Codex. These were later omitted by Celtes in the first printed edition of her works in 1501. As silence was required during mealtime in the refectory, when sacred scriptures, legends, and the early classics were read aloud, it is quite possible that the plays were read, as well. Thus, they may have become familiar to the canonesses.

Sister Mary Marguerite Butler says: "There are strong evidences of three contemporary dramatic streams within Hroswitha's writings—the literary tradition of classical antiquity, the mimetic influence, and the liturgical form—and the traces of their concomitant theatrical characteristics." Hroswitha followed the structure of the plays of the pagan poet Terence, but, as a devout Christian, wrote from an entirely different point of view. She showed great skill in the development of her characters.

In the plays, Hroswitha treated sensual passion in an even more realistic manner than in her first poems, but with the same delicacy of feeling and sincere simplicity. Although she believed that chastity was the crowning glory of a perfect life, she did not condemn marriage; in speaking of Henry the Fowler she says: "With him ruled his illustrious wife, Mathilda, who now, in all the realm none will be found to surpass in exalted holiness. Their union the triune God blessed with three sons." Hroswitha even shows a certain amount of sympathy for those who err, and treats her characters as human beings with all their faults and virtues, but inspired by a spark of sacred fire. She could not resist pointing a moral in each play.

Protestations of modesty and excuses for lack of skill were customary in the writings of Hroswitha's day. There is no doubt but that she was genuinely modest about her work, and always gave credit to her teachers and especially gave thanks repeatedly "for any talent I may have—given me by the merciful grace of Heaven in which I have trusted, rather than to my own strength." However, it may be seen in the following prefaces that with increasing experience she gained confidence in herself, had a surer touch, and explained her purpose very clearly.

The plays and prefaces are in the translation of Christopher St. John (pseudonym for Christabel Marshall), The Plays of Hroswitha, London, 1923:

Preface to the Plays of Hroswitha, German Religious and Virgin of the Saxon Race:

There are many Catholics, and we cannot entirely acquit ourselves of the charge, who, attracted by the polished elegance of the style of pagan writers, prefer their works to the holy scriptures. There are others who, although they are deeply attached to the sacred writings and have no liking for most pagan productions, make an exception in favor of the works of Terence, and, fascinated by the charm of the manner, risk being corrupted by the wickedness of the matter. Wherefore 1, the strong voice of Gandersheim, have not hesitated to imitate in my writings a poet whose works are so widely read, my object being to glorify within the limits of my poor talent, the laudable chastity of Christian virgins in that self-same form of composition which has been used to describe the shameless acts of licentious women. One thing has all the same embarrassed me and often brought a blush to my cheek. It is that I have been compelled through the nature of this work to apply my mind and my pen to depicting the dreadful frenzy of those possessed by unlawful love, and the insidious sweetness of passion-things which should not even be named among us. Yet, if from modesty, I had refrained from treating these subjects, I should not have been able to attain my object—to glorify the innocent to the best of my ability. For the more seductive the blandishments of lovers, the more wonderful the divine succor, and the greater the merit of those who resist, especially when it is fragile woman who is victorious and strong man who is routed with confusion.

I have no doubt that many will say that my poor work is much inferior to that of the author whom I have taken as my model, that it is on a much humbler scale, and indeed altogether different.

Well, I do not deny this. None can justly accuse me of wishing to place myself on a level with those who by the sublimity of their genius have so far outstripped me. No, I am not so arrogant as to compare myself even with the least among the scholars of the ancient world. I strive only, although my power is not equal to my desire, to use what talent I have for the glory of Him Who gave it to me. Nor is my self-love so great that I would, to avoid criticism, abstain from proclaiming wherever possible the virtues of Christ working in His saints. If this pious devotion gives satisfaction I shall rejoice, if it does not, either on account of my own worthlessness or of the faults of my unpolished style, I shall still be glad that I made the effort.

In the humbler works of my salad days I gathered up my poor researches in heroic strophes, but here I have sifted them into a series of dramatic scenes and avoided through omission the pernicious voluptuousness of pagan writers.

The Abbess Gerberga took great pride in the writings of her friend and pupil, Hroswitha, and brought them to the attention of the scholars who visited the monastery, especially to the Archbishop William of Mainz, the illegitimate son of Otto I, and to her sympathetic young friend, Otto II. (Later Hroswitha was to write the life of the Ottos at the request of Gerberga.)

The second preface is addressed to her readers, "Epistle of the Same to Certain Learned Patrons of this Book":

To you, learned and virtuous men, who do not envy the success of others, but on the contrary rejoice in it as becomes the truly great, Hroswitha, poor humble sinner, sends wishes for your health in this life and your joy in eternity.

I cannot praise you enough for your humility or pay an adequate tribute to your kindness and affection. To think that you, who have been nurtured in the most profound philosophical studies, and have attained knowledge in perfection, should have deigned to approve the humble work of an obscure woman! You have, however, not praised me but the Giver of the grace which works in me, by sending me your paternal congratulations and admitting that I possess some little knowledge of those arts the subtleties of which exceed the grasp of my woman's mind. Until I showed my work to you I had not dared to let anyone see it except my intimate companions. I came near abandoning this form of writing altogether, for if there were few to whom I could submit my compositions at all there were fewer still who could point out what needs correction and encourage me to go on. But now, reassured by your verdict (is it not said that the testimony of three witnesses is "equivalent to the truth?"), I feel that I have enough confidence to apply myself to writing, if God grants me the power, and that I need not fear the criticism of the learned whoever they may be. Still, I am tom by conflicting feelings. I rejoice from the depths of my soul that God through Whose grace alone I am what I am should be praised in me, but I am afraid of being thought greater than I am. I know that it is as wrong to deny a divine gift as to pretend falsely that we have received it. So I will not deny that through the grace of the Creator I have acquired some knowledge of the arts. He has given me the ability to learn—I am a teachable creature—yet of myself I should know nothing. He has given me a perspicacious mind, but one that lies fallow and idle when it is not cultivated. That my natural gifts might not be made void by negligence I have been at pains, whenever I have been able to pick up some threads and scraps tom from the old mantle of philosophy, to weave them into the stuff of my own book, in the hope that my lowly ignorant effort may gain more acceptance through the introduction of something of a nobler strain, and that the Creator of genius may be the more honored since it is generally believed that a woman's intelligence is slower. Such has been my motive in writing, the sole reason for the sweat and fatigue which my labors have cost me. At least I do not pretend to have knowledge where I am ignorant. On the contrary, my best claim to indulgence is that I know how much I do not know.

Impelled by your kindly interest and your express wish I come bowing low like a reed, to submit this little work to your judgment. I wrote it indeed with that idea in my mind, although doubt as to its merits had made me withhold it until now. I hope you will revise it with the same careful attention that you would give to a work of your own, and that when you have succeeded in bringing it up to the proper standard you will return it to me, that I may learn what are its worst faults.

The Arguments to the Plays

Sister Mary Marguerite Butler has pointed to the variety of moods—tragic, comic, heroic, romantic, and didactic—to be found in the "Arguments" written by Hroswitha for each play. However, short additional notes have been included here with the hope of further clarifying the plots of these extraordinary dramas.

Argument to the play Gallicanus: The conversion of Gallicanus, Commander-in-Chief. On the eve of his departure for a campaign against the Scythians, Gallicanus is bethrothed to the Emperor Constantine's daughter, Constance, a consecrated Virgin.

When threatened with defeat in battle, Gallicanus is converted by John and Paul, Grand Almoners to Constance. He is immediately baptized and takes a vow of celibacy.

Later he is exiled by order of Julian the Apostate, and receives the crown of martyrdom. John and Paul are put to death by the same prince and buried secretly in their own house. Not long after, the son of their executioner becomes possessed by a devil. He is cured after confessing the crime committed by his father. He bears witness to the merits of the martyrs, and is baptized, together with his father.

NOTE: Constance was a thoughtful young princess, for as a consecreted virgin she knew that she would never marry Gallicanus, but as his going to battle depended upon her consent, and as she realized that the success of the campaign rested upon him, she consented, prayed, and played for time. In the absence of the General she converted his two daughters to Christianity, and relied upon the strategy of John and Paul to convert Gallicanus, which was accomplished amid miraculous manifestations from heaven, and the day was saved.

Argument to the play Dulcitius: The martyrdom of the holy virgins Agape, Chionia, and Irena. The Governor Dulcitius seeks them out in the silence of the night with criminal intent, but hardly has he entered their dwelling than he becomes the victim of a delusion, under which he mistakes for the objects of his passion the saucepans and frying-pans in the kitchen. These he embraces and covers with kisses until his face and clothes are black with soot and dirt. Later, by order of Diocletian, he hands the maidens over to the care of Sisinnius, who is charged with their punishment. Sisinnius in his turn is made the sport of the most strange delusions, but at length succeeds in getting Agape and Chionia burnt, Irena shot to death with arrows.

NOTE: The plays of Hroswitha have been called comedies, but it seems that the only real comedy, in the modern sense of the word, is that of Dulcitius, where humor and gravity are strangely combined and the situations are truly ludicrous. In this play, fragile woman is victorious and strong man is routed with confusion, for the predicament of Dulcitius when he emerged from his encounter with the pots and pans was most humiliating. When the Christian maidens refused to worship the Roman gods and marry pagans they were sentenced to be burned. However, Agape appealed for divine aid saying: "O Lord, we know Thy power! It would not be anything strange or new if the fire forgot its nature and obeyed thee. But we are weary of this world, and we implore thee to break the bonds that chain our souls, and to let our bodies be consumed that we may rejoice with thee in heaven." The soldiers exclaimed: "O most wonderful! Their spirits have left their bodies, but there is no sign of any hurt."

Argument to the play Calimachus: The resurrection of Drusiana and Calimachus.

Calimachus cherishes a guilty passion for Drusiana, not only while she is alive but after she has died in the Lord. He dies from the bite of a serpent but, thanks to the prayers of St. John the Apostle, he is restored to life, together with Drusiana, and is born again in Christ.

NOTE: With the connivance of an unscrupulous servant, Calimachus visited the tomb where he found Drusiana's body looking more beautiful than in life. When about to embrace her, he was miraculously saved from the sacrilege by a serpent. It is an extraordinary plot to have been chosen from a classical source by a cloistered canoness, but it is delicately and skillfully handled.

Argument to the play Abraham: The fall and repentance of Mary, the niece of the hermit Abraham, who, after she had spent twenty years in the religious life as a solitary, abandons it in despair, and returning to the world, does not shrink from becoming a harlot. But two years later Abraham, in the disguise of a lover, seeks her out and reclaims her. For twenty years she does penance for her sins with many tears, fastings, vigils, and prayers.

NOTE: Mary only abandoned her religious life after being seduced by a false monk. The scene between Abraham and Mary in the brothel is compassionate and dramatic, and the play has been considered a masterpiece. When Mary hears her uncle's pleas to return to a life of virtue she cries that everything is over for her, but he assures her that "it is human to sin"—"but it is devilish to continue to sin." When she returns to the desert she prays for the men who are tempted to sin through her.

Argument to the play Paphnutius: The conversion of Thaïs by the hermit Paphnutius. Obedient to a vision, he leaves the desert and, disguised as a lover, seeks out Thäis in Alexandria. She is moved to repent by his exhortations and, renouncing her evil life, consents to be enclosed in a narrow cell, where she does penance for three years. Paphnutius learns from a vision granted to St. Anthony's disciple Paul that her humility has won her a place among the blessed in Paradise. He brings her out of her cell and stays by her side until her soul has left her body.

NOTE: The story is preceded by a learned philosophical discourse between Paphnutius and his disciples. He explains in terms of music the "harmonious arrangement"—"between the mortal body and the spiritual soul." He also gives a technical explanation of the three kinds of music: human, celestial, and from instruments as belonging to "one of the branches of the Quadrivium.

Argument to the play Sapienttia: The martyrdom of the holy virgins Faith, Hope, and Charity, who are put to the torture by the Emperor Hadrian and slain in the presence of their mother, Sapientia, she encouraging them by her admonitions to bear their sufferings. After their death the holy mother recovers the bodies of her children, embalms them in spices, and buries them with honor about five miles outside the city of Rome.

Forty days later the spirit of Sapientia takes its flight to heaven while she is still praying by her children's grave.

NOTE: This play has been considered by dramatists the least successful, and is historically incorrect, as Hadrian was known to be tolerant toward Christians. When the Emperor asks Sapientia the ages of her children, she replies with a numerical discourse on the science of numbers, hoping to confound him, but failing. Christopher St. John thinks that Hroswitha introduced the scientific discussion to impress "the learned men to whom she submitted her work," because it throws an interesting light on the studies pursued in a monastery in the tenth century.

The Achievements of Otto

Hroswitha's two historical epics, the Carmen de Gestis Oddonis, also called Gesta Ottonis or Panegyric Oddonum, and the Primordia Coenobii Gandeshemensis, are closely allied. They were both translated with their prefaces by Sister Mary Bernardine Bergman, A.B., A.M., from the German text of the Teubner edition of Karl Strecker, Hrotsvithae Opera, with such minor changes as she has noted in her introduction; it is the only text in English.

The Gesta Ottonis starts with the "just and wise reign of Henry the Fowler, first King of Saxony," but is primarily a panegyric of the deeds of the Emperor Otto I, called the Great, and Otto II, who ruled jointly with his father from the age of six. Sister Mary Marguerite Butler says that the Hildesheim Chronical states that Hroswitha originally honored the three Ottos, and that the very title of this book, Panegyric Oddonurm, known as the Gesta Ottonis, proves that we have only the first part; she thinks that the second dedication, addressed to Otto II, probably served as the preface to a second book, which is lost. The epic consists of 1517 verses, of which 676 lines are unfortunately missing. The Gesta Ottonis ends with the marriage of Liudolf, Duke of Swabia, when Otto I was at the height of his power; this topic Hroswitha feared to treat because "I am withheld by my womanly nature—hence I, hindered by the weightiness of these great themes, proceed no further, but prudently make an end."

The Gesta Ottonis is prized by historians, who have found it a valuable account of the period although it is at times inaccurate because of omissions and alterations made for diplomatic reasons. Hroswitha found the writing of political facts very difficult, as will be seen in the address to Gerberga and in the dedications to Otto I and Otto II, which precede the poem. It was hard to write the truth about living people, especially during civil war when the members of the Saxon royal family were literally at sword's point. The most treacherous offenders against Otto I were Prince Liudolf, who plotted against his father, and Duke Henry of Bavaria, brother of the King and father of Abbess Gerberga, who had requested Hroswitha to write the Gesta Ottonis. This created a delicate situation because of Hroswitha's close association with the family, so she tactfully blamed their misdeeds on "the wicked cunning of the ancient foe" who "disturbed our placid existence by his ancient wiles"—"which always seeks to pervert feeble hearts, did not cease, but after the deed of ill urged the addition of a worse crime. The Enemy is said to have entered the breasts of certain men with such frenzy of destructive poison that they desired to inflict death upon the faithful King and to appoint his brother as ruler over the nation—but the Paschal Lamb, who gave Himself in death as a chosen holocaust to His Father for our redemption, permitted not the commission of that hideous crime. But presently, he exposed their plan to all men, and thus happily the blood of the innocent King was saved, and those who were found guilty of the accursed crime were condemned to bitter punishment in proportion of the measure of their guilt."

With all this and more to contend with, it is no wonder that she cries, "I do not think it fitting for a frail woman abiding in the enclosure of a peaceful monastery to speak of war, with which she ought not even to be acquainted. These matters should be reserved for the toil of qualified men, to whom wisdom of mind has granted the ability to express all things wisely in eloquent terms."

Hroswitha's dedication to Gerberga, therefore, should be read with an understanding of the political and personal considerations that influenced it:

To Gerberga, renowned Abbess, esteemed no less for her integrity than for her illustrious descent from a royal race. 1, Hrotsvit of Gandersheim, the lowest of the lowly of those serving under the sway of her ladyship, wish to offer all that a servant owes to her mistress.

O my mistress, thou who enlightenest by the radiant diversity of thy spiritual wisdom, may it not irk thy kindliness to examine carefully what thou knowest has been written at thy bidding.

Thou hast indeed imposed upon me the difficult task of narrating in verse the achievements of an august emperor, which thou art well aware was impossible to gather abundantly from hearsay. Thou canst surmise what great difficulties my ignorance puts in my way while engaged in this work. There are things of which I could find no written record, nor could I elicit information from anyone sufficiently reliable. I was like a stranger wandering without a guide through the depth of an unknown forest where every path was covered over and mantled with heavy snow. In vain he tries to follow the directions of those who are showing the way only by a nod. Now he wanders through pathless ways, now by chance he comes upon the trail of the right path, until at length, when he has traversed half of the thick-treed domain, he attains the place of long-sought rest. There staying his step, he dares not proceed farther, until either he is led on by someone overtaking him or follows the footsteps of one who has preceded him. In like manner, I, bidden to undertake a complete chronicle of illustrious achievements, have gone on my way stumbling and hesitating, so great was the difficulty of finding a path in the forest of these royal deeds.

And so, wearied by my endeavor, I have lapsed into silence as I pause in a convenient resting place. Without guidance I propose to go no further. If, however, I be encouraged by the eloquent treatises of the learned (either already written or in the near future to be written) I might perhaps discover the means of veiling to some degree my homely simplicity.

Now, however, in proportion as I am unsupported by any authority, I am defenseless at every point. I fear, too, that I shall be accused of temerity and that I shall encounter the reproaches of many, because I have dared to disgrace by my uncultured style matters that should be set forth with the festal eloquence of choice expression. Yet, if a person of good judgment, who knows how to appraise things fairly, examines my work, he will pardon me the more readily because of the weakness of my sex and the inferiority of my knowledge, especially since I undertook this little work not of my own presumption, but at thy bidding.

Why, then, should I fear the criticism of others, since, if I have erred somewhat, I become responsible only to your judgment? 0, why can I not escape reproofs for these works about which I was anxious to be silent? If, because of its crudeness, I should wish the work to be shown to none, should I not deserve the blame of all? To your decision, however, and that of your most intimate friend, Archbishop William, to whom you have bidden me present this testimony of my simplicity, I submit the work to be appraised for its worth and its imperfections.

The following is Hroswitha's dedication to Otto I; the remarks above concerning the author's relationship to the various members of the royal family should be borne in mind.

Otto, mighty sovereign of the empire of the Caesars, who, renowned because thou wieldest a sceptre of imperial majesty by the indulgent kindliness of the Eternal King, surpassest in integrity all foregoing emperors, many nations dwelling far and wide reverence thee; the Roman Empire, too, bestows upon thee manifold honors! Do not reject the small offerings of this poem, but may this proffered tribute of praises which the least of the flock of Gandersheim accords thee be pleasing. The kind solicitude of thy forbears has assembled it, and the constant desire of rendering service owes it to thee. Many, perchance, have written and many hereafter will produce masterful memorials of thy achievements. But none of these has provided a model for me, nor have monographs, hitherto written, taught me what I should set down. But devotedness of heart alone is the reason for this undertaking, and this urged me to dare the formidable task. Yet, I am fearful that by verse I may be heedlessly tracing spurious deeds of thine and not disclosing authentic ones. But no baneful presumption of mind has urged me in this matter, nor have I voluntarily played falsely by a disdain of the truth as a whole. But, that the account, as I have written it, is true, those who furnished the material for me themselves declared. Let not, therefore, the benignity of august majesty despise that which a lowly suppliant, devoted of heart, has achieved. And, although hereafter many books may be written praising thee duly, and may be esteemed fittingly acceptable to thee, yet, let this little book which has clearly been written from no earlier copy be not the last in order of regard. And, although thou holdest the honor of Caesar's emperorship, disdain not to be called by the name of King, until, the fame of a royal life having been written, the imperial splendor of the second realm may be declared in an orderly fashion and in becoming language.

Hroswitha's dedication to his son, Otto II, then follows:

Otto, resplendent ornament of the Roman Empire, bright scion of the august and revered Otto, for whom the mighty King throned on high and his Eternal Son destined an empire strong in the zenith of its power: spurn not the poor composition of a poor nun! Thou, thyself, if thou deign to remember, hast lately ordered it to be presented to thy keen gaze; and when thou perceivest that it is marred with many blemishes, be then the more inclined to favor a speedy pardon, the more I am but obeying thy behest in presenting it to thee. If I were not urged by thy dread command, under no circumstance, should I have such self-assurance as to presume to offer to thy scrutiny this little book with its obvious lack of polish.

Thou, who by the decree of God art associated with thy father in his court and art ready to obey his paternal admonitions, holdest harmoniously a like distinction of imperial rule, bearing the kingly sceptre in thy youthful hands. But, since I know that thou art loftily considered like to Solomon, son of the celebrated King David, who, in his father's presence and at his revered command, received the paternal kingdom amid desired peace, I hope that in accord with his example thou wilt be content. Though Solomon, as king resided in a proud citadel, wisely establishing the decrees of sacred laws and penetrating with profound mind into the secrets of nature, yet occasionally he was disposed to relax his mind with trivial investigations. But he did not loathe duly to settle, with the determination of a just and speedy decision, the quarrel of the two women, ordering the child to be restored to its true mother.

Therefore, as a suppliant indeed, I request that thou, our Solomon, though the administration of a harassing empire occupy thee, deign to read now, for amusement, the recent account of thine own poor nun; that thus all crudeness of utterance, in this treatise on thy imperial name, may presently disappear from the badly arranged words, and that enhanced by thy revered title, they may be guarded from the breath of well-merited contempt.

The writing of the Primordia Coenobii Gande-shemensis was a labor of love for Hroswitha, as it recounts the founding of Gandersheim in 856 by Duke Liudolf, his wife Oda, who lived there beloved by all to the age of 107, and her mother Aeda. Hroswitha tells of the completion of the monastery by Liudolf's son, Otto the Illustrious, and the reign of his daughters, who were the first three Abbesses. The subject was close to her heart and she wove many spiritual legends into the history with skill and charm, and the miracles which occurred during the building were all very real to her. They were written in much the same manner that Wagner used to weave the legend of Lohengrin around the historic figure of Henry the Fowler, father of Otto I.

If it is true that Hroswitha was born about 935 and entered the cloister about 955, she would have been sixty-five years of age when she died, having spent forty-five wonderful years in study and creative writing.

Otto III, a strong Grecophile, died unmarried in Rome. He, the Abbess Gerberga, and Hroswitha probably all died within a few months of each other during 1001-1002, and it must have been a great sorrow to the bereaved. Otto II had given his five-year-old daughter Sophia to Gerberga to be educated at Gandersheim, so now after some years as a canoness she was consecrated Abbess. This marked the end of an era; the rule of the three Ottos was over, and jealous disputes arose among the clergy of the diocese. The literary prestige of the monastery declined, and it was two hundred years after "the strong voice of Gandersheim" was stilled before another medieval dramatist appeared.