Forschungsstelle "Westfälischer Friede": Dokumentation

DOCUMENTATION | Exhibitions: 1648 - War and Peace in Europe

Essay Volumes > Tome II: Art and culture

HUBERT GLASER / ELKE ANNA WERNER
The Victorious Virgin: The Religious Patronage of Maximilian I of Bavaria

I

[1]

The text of the donor panel on the high altar of the Frauenkirche in Munich (Fig. 1)—a monument which reached to the crown of the vault and occupied the eastern end of the choir for nearly 250 years—establishes an explicit connection between the powerful altar and the Bavarian army's victorious campaign in Bohemia, the conflict that inaugurated the Thirty Years' War.



This association appears to be confirmed by the fact that upon his return to Munich on November 25, 1620, Duke Maximilian of Bavaria hurried to the convent church of Our Lady to offer a prayer of thanks, where he was greeted by the bishop of Freising and a highly allusive chorale ("Saul has slain his thousands"). Only three days after his return to the residence, moreover, he ordered the completed architectural and painted parts of the retable to be taken to the Frauenkirche from the workshops. [2] According to the account books of the court building office, the foundations of the altar had already been laid the previous September; the date of the dedication and the mounting of the donor panel is not recorded. In any case, however, the duke's decision in favor of such a significant donation, as well as the devising of the iconographic program and the commissioning of the artists, must have occurred long before the Bavarian intervention in the Bohemian conflict. February 1, 1617 may be considered the terminus post quem, the date of a letter from the convent chapter to the duke, exhorting him "most humbly" to donate a new choir altar to replace the old one, torn down years before, as well as the provisional one that had replaced it in the meantime. [3] Thus the connection between the high altar of the Frauenkirche in Munich, donated by Duke Maximilian, and the victory of the Bavarian-Austrian army at White Mountain near Prague, along with the expulsion of the Winter King and the triumph of the Counterreformation in Bohemia, was established after the fact, no doubt by the duke himself.



Indeed, the iconography of the retable makes no direct allusion to the defense of the faith or to war and peace. The pictorial program [4] itself was entrusted to the Munich court painter Peter Candid, at that time 70 years old. The patronage of the church stipulated Marian themes, and whether the duke himself, the convent chapter, or an adviser from among the Munich Jesuits first proposed the "Annunciation to the Virgin" and the "Assumption of the Virgin" can no longer be determined. In any case, the faithful were to be presented with the glorification of Mary: her election as the vessel for the incarnation of the Son of God, her raising from the dead by Christ himself, and her bodily ascent into heaven.



Accordingly, for the Annunciation scene, Candid chose to represent not the angel's announcement to Mary, but the moment when, according to the Evangelist Luke, the Holy Spirit came upon her and the power of the Most High overshadowed her; the angel, sunk down upon an cloud with hands crossed over his breast, observes the event in humble rapture.



In the absence of biblical texts to support the iconography of the colossal main image (Fig. 2)—which in size alone surpassed all other altarpieces in the duchy of Bavaria—the painter resorted to the Legenda Aurea of Jacob of Voragine, the source which tells of the assumption of the Virgin into heaven after three days in the grave, conducted by angels, and her reception by her divine Son. Candid was evidently encouraged to combine this motif, the penultimate mystery of the rosary, with the coronation of the Virgin in heaven, the final mystery of the rosary: Jesus, who supports his mother with an embrace of his right arm, holds a golden, jeweled crown above her with his left hand, exalting her above all earthly creatures as the Queen of Heaven (Fig. 3).



Mary's youthfulness, the gesture of embrace, and the inclined posture open up a second level of interpretation as well, showing Christ and the Virgin as the bridegroom and bride of the Song of Solomon. In this way, Candid alludes to the reorganization of the Breviarium Romanum by Pope Pius V in 1568, in which readings from the Song of Songs were assigned to the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin. Moreover, it was now possible to view the ascending form of Mary not only as the Mother of God, but also—as Augustine and other church fathers had already done—as the embodiment of the church, prefiguring its final destiny and triumph in her heavenly coronation. The sacred-historical significance of the event is underlined by the presence of humanity's first parents, Adam and Eve, along with patriarchs, prophets, kings, and heroes of the Old Testament on banks of clouds above the apostles, and above all by the third and highest level of the altar, where God the Father, encircled by the heavenly hosts, opens his arms wide to receive Mary, looking down on the heavenly scene and its earthly observers, the representatives of humanity.



The dedicatory inscription mounted on the rear side of the altar bears no relation to this pictorial program, but rather supplies the front of the altar with an interpretation relating it to events of the recent past. While God himself is mentioned only in the formula "D.O.M.," Mary is apostrophized as God-bearer and Virgin, patroness of Bavaria and protector of princes, helper of Christians and victrix in battle. The title Patrona Boiariae constitutes a reference to the bronze Madonna mounted on the façade of the residence in 1616. The statue, part of a figural program representing the guiding principles of Maximilian's rule, manifests the duke's efforts to place his land and house under the special protection of the Virgin. [5] The propagation of this motif can be traced in the circles around Maximilian from about 1615 on. The most impressive example appears in a work published in 1615 in Augsburg, the frontispiece to the first volume of the Bavaria Sancta by the Jesuit Matthias Rader. It shows how five armored angels with St. Michael at the center, distinguished by the coat of arms of the house of Bavaria and the insignia [???Collane] of the Golden Fleece and flanked by four heavenly protectors of the Bavarian treasurers [???Rentämter], extend a map of the duchy to the Mother of God with the Christ Child on her lap (illustrated in Cat. III, Ch. VIII). The representation thus forcefully illustrates Mary's role as not the only, but the best and greatest patroness of Bavaria. The title of the engraving refers to the Virgin as Tutela Regnorum, recalling her designation as Tutela Principum on the donor panel of the high altar in Munich. [6]



The relation of the text of the donor panel to contemporary events is revealed in the titles Auxiliatrix and Victrix as well. These are ultimately derived from the Litany of Our Lady, whose use can be traced back to about 1530 in Loreto and which, with the increasing popularity of the Loreto pilgrimage and copies of the Casa Santa, attained widespread use throughout the entire Christian world. [7] A contemporary manifestation of Mary's role as helper and victrix was likewise provided by the religious interpretation of the naval victory of the Venetian-Spanish fleet over the Turks near Lepanto. Since the battle had been fought on the first Sunday in October, on which the Roman brotherhoods of the Rosary held their processions, Pope Pius V ascribed the success of the Christian Armada to the intervention of the Mother of God. In the Consistorium of March 17, 1572, he ordered that from then on, a feast of thanksgiving should be held on the anniversary of the battle as a "memorial to Our Lady of Victory." In the following year, Gregory XIII altered the decision, assigning the feast to the first Sunday in October as the Feast of the Rosary. [8] The appeal to Mary as Auxilium Christianorum likely represents part of the same complex, even if the addition of this title (already used by Petrus Canisius in 1558) to the Litany of Loreto cannot be traced back to papal initiative following the battle. It was logical, then, to take the interpretive models that had come to prominence with such unprecedented speed and success after the battle of Lepanto and apply them to the Catholic victory at White Mountain near Prague as well. Such an interpretation was implicit from the beginning when the Bavarian duke ordered the name of Mary invoked as a battle cry, when the Carmelite father Domenico di Gesú e Maria consecrated the ducal banner of Mary already in the camp near Grieskirchen, or when the Irish Jesuit father Fitzsimon prayed the Salve Regina with the commander of the Austrian troops, Graf Buquoy, while marching into battle. [9] Phenomena such as the incorporation of an image of the Madonna found near Pilsen during the Bohemian campaign into the church of Sta. Maria della Vittoria in Rome, formerly dedicated to the apostle Paul, and the Maria-Hilf cult in Passau founded by Lazarus von Schwendi, which soon spread throughout all of Upper Germany, are based on the same historical constellation. [10]



The driving force behind the retable of the Frauenkirche in Munich, however, was not first and foremost the proclamation of the Mother of God as the patroness of the Bavarian state, but rather the Counterreformation veneration of the Virgin. Precisely because it is not Biblically based, the theme of the assumption of Mary into heaven constituted a clear contradiction to Protestant teachings regarding the basis of faith. In addition, it also implied the doctrine of the immaculate conception of the Virgin, equally useful for establishing the boundaries of religious conviction. It was inevitable that this theme be addressed again and again in the principal churches of Munich, for example in St. Michael, where Candid himself treated it, or in the Frauenkirche on one of the so-called "Stiegenaltare," where Hans Rottenhammer painted a coronation of the Virgin in the service of Duke Wilhelm V. [11]



When embarking upon his greatest commission, however, Candid did not content himself with regional models, but entered into a dialogue with the Italian art he had come to know during his stay in Florence as well as the new Flemish painting. [12] The allusion to Titian's Assunta of 1518 has long been recognized, while the composition of the apostle group draws from Andrea del Sarto's painting of the Ascension. While the dynamism and urgent compression of Tintoretto's style may have been more foreign to Candid, it is still likely that the strongly attenuated proportions of the ascending Mary were inspired by the Venetian Mannerist's first Assunta, painted for the church of S. Stin. The influence of Rubens' treatment of the theme, on the other hand, cannot be proven directly; nonetheless, it is noteworthy that Rubens, in the course of work on the high altar in the cathedral of Antwerp, endeavored to combine the ascension motif with that of the coronation. An interest in Rubens on the part of Candid is likely for other reasons as well. In 1615, Duke Maximilian had ordered four hunting pictures from the great Fleming for the decoration of the palace in Schleißheim; at about the same time, the altarpieces commissioned by Maximilian's brother-in-law Wolfgang Wilhelm for Neuburg on the Danube arrived, images in which the re-Catholicizing of the duchy of Pfalz-Neuburg found monumental expression. [13] In 1624, two and a half years after the installation of the Candid retable, Rubens appeared on the scene again with the high altar for the cathedral of Freising, showing the victory of the Woman of the Apocalypse—identified with Mary in contemporary exegesis—over the dragon and Satan with the help of the archangel Michael. This image, a decidedly militant one in comparison with Candid's motifs, almost demanded an interpretation relating it to events at the beginning of the Thirty Years' War (Fig. 4). [14]



This distinction becomes clear even in the most famous literary reception of both the Munich and the Freising high altars, the odes of the poet Jakob Balde. [15] As a member of the Society of Jesus, Balde spent thirteen years among the closest associates of the elector Maximilian. In his Odae Partheniae, published in 1643, Balde recorded his impressions and reflections on three of the most important works of art in Counterreformation Bavaria: a vision based on the Freising altarpiece by Rubens, a meditation on the subject of the Candid picture in the Frauenkirche, and a contemplation of the Fall of Satan [???Höllensturz] painted by Christoph Schwarz in the Jesuit church of St. Michael in Munich. While the Assumption of the Virgin transcends all temporality and is presented outside of history as unio mystica—"... von deines Sohnes / Arm emporgeführt, überholst du alles, / Was nicht Gott ist, tauchst mit dem Geist ins volle / Wesen der Gottheit. / Tauch hinein ..." ("... led on high / by your Son's arm, you surpass all / that is not God, plunge in spirit into the full / essence of divinity. / Plunge in ...)—the vision of the Woman of the Apocalypse, which the poet sees realized in the high altar of Freising, is assigned a precise date in relation to the current political situation, including the war. In this way, the heavenly victory cry ("Inzwischen läßt Victoria / im ganzen Himmel ihren Ruf erschallen" ["Meanwhile Victoria / sounds her call through all of heaven"]) is interpreted to reflect recent events: "Der siebte Sommer in der Bayern Hauptstadt war dahingegangen / nach König Gustavs Tod, als in Rom mit heiligen Zügen Urban der Achte lenkte, / and Wien regierte Ferdinand der Dritte, / Zur Zeit, da Deutschland mit sich selbst im Streit / des Bürgerkrieges Frevel mehrte / ... Da sah ich etwas Wunderbares ..." ("The seventh summer in the Bavarian capital had passed / after King Gustav's death, when Urban the Eighth ruled in Rome with holy processions [???Zügen], / and Vienna was governed by Ferdinand the Third, / At a time when Germany, at war with itself, increased the iniquity of civil strife ... There I saw a marvel ...").



The construction of a personal relationship with the Virgin Mother of God and the attempt to impose it upon the entire duchy, i.e. to extend it to all the people of the land, is among the central motifs of Maximilian's self-conception and program of rule. To a certain extent, the story can best be told from the end, from the famous letter in blood secretly placed by the 71-year-old elector into the base of the new tabernacle of the Altötting shrine—a monument he himself had donated—in January or February of 1645. [16] The letter, written in his own blood and sealed twice, was known only to the chamber servant and Max Schinagl, who was responsible for the design and construction of the tabernacle. At the request of Maximilian's widow, who had been informed of it after the elector's death, the letter was taken from the outwardly invisible receptacle and opened. Written in a halting, particularly laborious hand due to the rapid coagulation of the blood, the following text was read: In mancipium tuum me tibi dedico consacroque virgo Maria hoc teste cruore atq. Chyrographo Maximilianus peccatorum coryphaeus ("As Thy possession I give and dedicate myself to Thee, Virgin Mary, through the testimony of my blood and my writing, Maximilian, chief of sinners"). This statement cannot have been made for the benefit of external appearances; rather, it can only represent a total, secret surrender, expressed in the metaphor of slavery, to the will—however sensed or communicated—of the Virgin and Mother of God, believed to be an irrefutable reality. The veneration of Mary as a complete surrender and the promise of life-long service is found already in Maximilian's youth. As an eight-year-old, he prayed the Litany of Loreto and the Corona quinquagesima and memorized the Officium parvum Beatae Mariae Virginis. At the age of ten, the prince was accepted into the Marian Congregation and soon became the head of all Marian sodalities in Germany. Also influential in Maximilian's education were the Opus Marianum of Petrus Canisius, printed in Ingolstadt in 1577, in which the image of Mary as victrix over the devil, helper of Christians, and embodiment of the church was defended against the criticism of the Reformers, and Pater Jakob Rem, who founded the first Marian Congregation in southern Germany in Dillingen, as well as the cult of the Mater admirabilis in Ingolstadt. [17]



Marian pilgrimages—to Thalkirchen, for example, and then to Andechs, Tuntenhausen, Einsiedeln, and above all Altötting—form a leitmotif throughout the religious life of the duke and elector. The Loreto pilgrimage during his return trip from Rome in 1593 resulted in a flourishing of the cult of the Casa Santa in the duchy of Bavaria. Maximilian later pressed Pope Urban VIII to intensify veneration of the Virgin; and although the daily labor of his subjects was in his interest, he supported the introduction of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception (1629) and the Feast of the Visitation (1638). [18] These activities, along with numerous altar endowments, mass stipends, Eternal-Light donations, and the like, must not be seen merely as evidence of private piety, but rather constitute elements of a large-scale effort to reform the entire territory in accord with the cult of Mary and compel all subjects to serve her just as the ruler himself had done. The attainment of this goal was served by the adornment of many Marian pilgrimage sites, the support of cults especially dear to the duke for reasons of personal experience, mandatory prescriptions for behavior at the thrice-daily Angelus, and the command that all the people of the land possess a rosary and offer the corresponding prayers as often as possible. [19] Maximilian intended the patronage of the Virgin and Mother of God as the protector of Bavaria, ally, and helper to survive his own death; accordingly, he chose "Maria" as his son's second name, thereby founding a devotional practice that continued in Bavaria into the 20th century. In 1646, he gave the following instructions to the tutor regarding the desired Marian focus of the electoral prince's religious education: "... demnach Wür und unsere Lobl.e Vorfordern zu der Allerglorwürdigisten Himmel Königun und Muetter Gottes Maria ieder Zeit ein particular deuotion, Lieb Zueflicht und vertrauen getragen, selbige auch negst Gott für die hechste Beschizerin und Patronin unsers gesambten Fürstl.en Hauß und angehöriger Landt und Leith verEhrt, erkent und erfahren haben und noch täglichs erfahren thuen ..." ("according as we and our praiseworthy forefathers have always borne particular devotion, love, refuge, and trust toward Mary, the most glorious Queen of Heaven and Mother of God, and have also honored, acknowledged, and experienced her, next to God, as the highest protector and patroness of our whole noble house, land, and people, and continue to experience it daily..."). [20]



Finally, the new high altar of 1620 should not be viewed as an isolated decorative element, but as part of the overall redesign of the entire choir area of the Frauenkirche, a project begun in 1604. [21] The new program incorporated motifs from the history of cult and church, empire and territory, as well as the history of the dynasty. The impetus for the renovation was provided by the acquisition of valuable relics, along with the pilgrimage movement it engendered. In 1576, the relics of the bishop-saint Benno of Meißen, who in Catholic eyes no longer enjoyed due veneration in Saxony, were translated to Munich. [22] In his testament, Duke Albrecht V had obligated his successor Wilhelm V to inter the relics near the Wittelsbach family tomb in the Frauenkirche; in addition, he stipulated that an "Erlich Epitaphium" ("glorious epitaph") be erected for himself and his father, Wilhelm IV. In so doing, Albrecht V established the spatial and thus also the artistic context for the future shrine of St. Benno (who had been made patron of the city of Munich) as well as the dynastic tomb of the house of Bavaria. [23] The planning process continued for almost 25 years. In 1603-04, Duke Maximilian, under pressure from his father, the abdicated Wilhelm V, caused a powerful triumphal arch to be erected at the entrance to the choir, a quadrifrons resting on four mighty pillars with a short longitudinal barrel vault and lunettes in a narrower transept, decorated with a rich figural program showing the patrons of the church, convent, and diocese. [24]



In the present context, only two aspects are of importance. The first is the fact that although the arch was erected in honor of St. Benno, the altar to Benno himself was relegated to the narrow transept, while the place at the center of the quadrifrons was reserved for another purpose. Here, where the arch opened onto the choir with its Gothic choir stalls, the monument to Ludwig [Louis?] of Bavaria and his successors had stood since the rebuilding of the Frauenkirche in the 15th century. The duke and the convent chapter decided against moving the high tomb, choosing rather to reestablish the link between the tomb and the rood altar that had already existed in the previous Frauenkirche. The fact that Emperor Louis had died under excommunication and that the popes still refused to revoke the ban aroused little concern.



The second aspect of significance is the relation between the Benno arch and the high altar. In 1607, the three-winged altar from the 15th century that up to that point had served as a choir altar was torn down. A provisional one took its place, using a bronze figure of the Madonna and Child created by Hubert Gerhard, originally intended for the tomb of Wilhelm V in the church of St. Michael in Munich, a monument which was only rudimentarily realized. [25] This arrangement, however, lacked the monumentality imperative for the Frauenkirche, and Maximilian seems from the beginning to have envisioned a new design for both the imperial tomb and the new high altar. This new arrangement was to satisfy the needs of both liturgy and political representation and establish a more complex meaning for the choir area. The Benno arch served as an important point of departure for both. Through the redesign of the tomb and its placement with respect to the triumphal arch and high altar, dynastic themes could be given a place of prominence within the complex scheme. Maximilian's desire to integrate the high altar into this frame of reference is illustrated by a sketch dating to around 1617, showing a (later rejected) plan for the imperial grave (Fig. 5). [26] The Gothic monument is elevated on a socle and surrounded by a balustrade decorated with figures identified by curving banderoles; on the side facing the high altar, the kneeling figure of Duke Maximilian prays for God's mercy on himself and his ancestors. This design was rejected, perhaps because it did not meet the testamental stipulations of Wilhelm IV and Albrecht V. In the new design, completed in 1622, the relation between monument and high altar was established in another and no less forceful, though now depersonalized way. A famous documentary photograph of 1858 (Fig. 6) shows the careful placement of the retable with respect to the preexisting triumphal arch. For the viewer looking from the nave into the choir, the Benno arch forms a second, reinforcing frame around the pictorial program of the high altar. The staging is reminiscent of the Frari church in Venice, where the portal of the choir screen reveals the view of Titian's Assunta; in both instances, the framing architectural element was already present when the altar was designed.



The imperial sepulchre is the work of Hans Krumper, who was doubtless commissioned at the duke's own request. His design greatly intensified the dynastic and imperial significance already present in the Gothic tomb. [27] He set the high tomb on a black marble base and erected over it a cenotaph of the same material, which allows the old tombstone to be seen from all sides and is crowned by a massive cover rising toward the center (Fig. 7). This cenotaph is surrounded by a protective balustrade. On the long sides stand the bronze statues of Wilhelm IV and Albrecht V, thus fulfilling the testamentary stipulations of Maxmilian's father and grandfather. Four knights, transferred from the sculptural program of the tomb of Wilhelm V, a work from before 1600 in the church of St. Michael, kneel at the corners of the base, now serving the richer instrumentation of the imperial grave. They carry the banners of the four emperors who, according to Munich court historiography, numbered among the ancestors of the Bavarian house. At the elevated center of the tomb slab, the imperial crown rests on a decorative pillow; it is shown in its modern form, documented already for the emperors Maximilian and Charles V. The crown is flanked longitudinally by two genies who, turning outward toward the nave and the altar, display the other insignia of the empire, the imperial orb and scepter on the one hand and the coat of arms and imperial sword on the other. In the inscription encircling the cenotaph, Maximilian dedicates the monument to his imperial ancestor buried in this church, alludes to the injunctions of his predecessors, dates the work to the year 1622, and calls himself "Duke of Bavaria, Elector of the Holy Roman Empire"—one year before the status of elector was actually conferred upon him by Emperor Ferdinand II.



Both the knights with their banners and the statues of Maximilian's grandfather and great-grandfather—the dukes, in other words, who had suppressed the Reformation in their territory since 1522 and maintained their subjects' allegiance to the old faith—strengthen the cenotaph's character as a dynastic monument. The multiple allusions to the imperial reign of Ludwig [???Louis] the Bavarian (and his supposedly Carolingian ancestors) and the designation of the donor as elector call to mind the status once held by the Bavarian house: as the representative of an imperial dynasty, the present duke has once again joined the circle of imperial electors; he and his successors are prepared to once again attain the highest dignity of the empire. This demonstrative statement, moreover, plays itself out in the main church in Munich, which now acquires the character of a court church and whose newly-designed choir invests the self-interpretation and self-representation of the ducal family with a religious and even sacred-historical dimension. The gaze of the viewer passes from the nave over the imperial crown, visible from a distance, to the images on the high altar, showing the Mother of God and patroness of Bavaria exalted in heaven. In this way, the viewer—whether faithful subject, visitor from afar, or pious worshipper—learns of the providential role the ruling house has played, not only in centuries past, but even now, with the return of the reigning duke from conquered Bohemia.



II

The close association between personal piety, the need for dynastic legitimation, and the quest for political power in the artistic patronage of the Bavarian elector is likewise manifested in another significant donation of Maximilian I, the Column of Mary on the Schrannenplatz in Munich, dedicated in 1638. [28] The column, however, not only exemplifies the politics of art under Maximilian, but numbers among those works from the militant phase of the Counterreformation that were quickly accepted as cult images by the faithful. The power of the image rests on this acceptance, which substantially contributed to the reciprocal relationship between noble patron and religious population. [29] According to this thesis, this power results to a large extent from the formal character of the monument, in which the Marian iconography as a central tenet of Catholic doctrine was combined with the tradition of antique memorial columns.



The erection of the Mary column goes back to an oath sworn by Maximilian when Swedish troops invaded Bavaria in 1631-32: he promised that "... if this capital, as well as the city of Landshut, be preserved from final ruin and destruction by the enemy," he would erect "a work pleasing to God." [30] In 1635, after Munich had been delivered through contributions from the threat of occupation and plundering and after the army of the imperial league [???kaiserlich-ligistische], together with Spanish reinforcements, had succeeded in wresting a decisive victory from the Swedes at the battle of Nördlingen in 1634, Maximilian ordered a commission to prepare a design to fulfill the oath. Finally in 1638, after a long period of planning, the Mary column was dedicated on the Schrannenplatz by the bishop of Freising, Veit Adam von Gepeckh. An unknown artist, probably an eyewitness to the event, captured it in a pen drawing now in Munich (Fig. 8). [31] The picture shows the elongated rectangle of the market square (now the Marienplatz) with the monument at the center and two tents to the east and west. The bishop strides toward the ceremony from the right-hand tent, while Maxmilian and his entourage probably linger in the left-hand tent. To the rear, the citizen army has arrayed itself with banners, lances, and drums. In the background, the square is closed in by a wooden stage on which a large orchestra has taken its place; the foreground is occupied by crowds of spectators. All turn toward the monument, which, consisting of three parts, rises up in the center of the square. The quadratic pedestal with putti battling animal monsters at its corners is surmounted by a high column with a Corinthian capital, which in turn is crowned by a statue of Mary.



The Munich Column of Mary does not represent the work of a single designing and executing artist. The bronze figure of Mary had been created by Hubert Gerhard already around 1593. Probably originally intended for the tomb of Duke Wilhelm V in the church of St. Michael, it had been set up on the high altar of the Frauenkirche since 1606 before yielding its place, as mentioned above, to the new altar by Peter Candid. [32] Only in its third location, therefore, did the statue find a permanent home. The craftsman who created the 4.85-meter-high column of red Untersberg marble is unknown. Lastly, at the time of the dedication, the four putti that now stand at the corners of the pedestal had probably already been planned, but were executed only in temporary form in a perishable material. The caster Bernhard Ernst was not commissioned to make the bronze figures until 1639, and their installation followed in 1641. [33] Attempts to identify the sculptor have remained unconvincing; most recently, the court artist Hans Reichle and Ferdinand Murmann of Augsburg have been suggested. Similarly, the marble balustrade surrounding the entire monument was not commissioned until 1639. The monument, therefore, was not actually completed until at least three years after the dedication.



Already by that time the Mary column had apparently become the object of pious devotion. Numerous groups of the faithful prayed "before the image of Our Lady" and sang litanies until late into the night, so that the bishop of Freising felt it necessary to forestall "incipient abuses" by introducing regular Saturday devotionals. [34] A simple woodcut, created after 1641 by Marx Anton Hannas after Jacob Custos and presumably sold to the faithful for a moderate price as a kind of devotional image, shows a group of people praying before the Mary column (Fig. 9). [35] This image too, therefore, suggests that the Mary column had already become a focus of attraction for the most diverse levels of the population and stood at the center of activity in the city. It is unknown whether Maximilian planned or foresaw this cult when he donated the monument. It is obvious, however, that it was fervently embraced by the people, who sought refuge in religion to a particular extent during this time of war and crisis. [36]



As mentioned, however, the Mary column represents the type of the personal votive image (ex voto), fulfilling an oath sworn by the elector in time of danger. The donation of votive images has a long tradition in the Catholic church, [37] constituting the visible part of a comprehensive religious act. In situations of danger and threat, the faithful reacts with a personal action whose goal is to avoid the condition of crisis, survive it, or gain help. He appeals to a saint and begs for succor. In return, he obligates himself to prayers and other religious actions or to the donation of concrete objects. These objects—often a simple reproduction of the body part that was healed or a picture showing the act of appeal itself—fulfill the oath, bear witness to the grace of the higher power, and express the believer's gratitude. [38] Significantly, votive images are exhibited in public places, where they can be seen by the general mass of the faithful. Preferred places for votive images are pilgrimage churches and chapels, since the proximity of the work to the (spiritual or corporeal) presence of the saint promises greater effectiveness. Inscriptions identifying the work as a religious donation are likewise typical of votive images. Such donations could often be works of outstanding artistic quality; nonetheless, the impetus for the commission was above all the donor's trust in God and his deeply-felt gratitude.



While at first glance the Column of Mary in Munich seems to go beyond the conventions of the traditional ex voto, upon closer consideration it nonetheless exhibits the essential typological features of a votive image. The additive character of the work, which is composed of preexisting pieces as well as newly-created sculptural and architectural elements, indicates that the artistic design was not of primary concern in this donation. To be sure, the bronze figure of Mary represents the work of the important sculptor Hubert Gerhard, whose influence extended above all to southern Germany. The putti, as well, are among the most important bronze sculptures from the second quarter of the 17th century in Munich. As a whole, however, the Column of Mary remains a heterogeneous image, whose stylistic discontinuities must have been even more obvious to the viewer of the time. While the figure of Mary still reflects a sedate Mannerism of the late 16th century, the dynamic motion of the putti, triumphing over the monsters in a wide variety of combat positions, represent the new Baroque formal language for the first time in Bavaria.



As was customary with votive images, the Mary column also had an inscription in which the donor explicitly stated his thanks. Two panels on the east and west side of the column pedestal, now no longer preserved, identify the saint called upon for help, the occasion, and the donor: "Dem allergütigsten großen Gott, der jungfräulichen Gottesgebärerin, der gnädigsten Herrin und hochmögenden Schutzfrau Bayerns hat wegen der Erhaltung der Heimat, der Städte, des Heeres, seiner selbst, seines Hauses und seiner Hoffnungen dieses bleibende Denkmal für die Nachkommen dankbar und demütig errichtet. Maximilian, Pfalzgraf bei Rhein, Herzog von Ober- und Niederbayern, des Heiligen Römischen Reiches Erztruchseß und Kurfürst, unter ihren Dienern der letzte, im Jahre 1638" ("this lasting monument for posterity, devoted to the most gracious great God, the Virgin God-bearer, the most gracious Lady and powerful protector of Bavaria, was thankfully and humbly erected in gratitude for the preservation of his homeland, cities, and army as well as himself, his house, and his hopes, by Maximilian, Count Palatine of the Rhine, Duke of Upper and Lower Bavaria, Lord High Steward and Elector of the Holy Roman Empire, the least among her servants, in the year 1638"). [39] Here, however, the occasion of the gift—in contrast to the specific mention of the Swedish threat in the elector's oath—is described in surprisingly general terms, referring the thanks to the general preservation of his land, army, and house.



If the object for which divine help had been received was thus considerably expanded—particularly in order to incorporate a dynastic dimension—additional connotations were also implicit in the choice of the date on which the monument was dedicated. The Mary column was dedicated on November 7, 1638, the Sunday before the anniversary of the battle of White Mountain in 1620. In Catholic propaganda, this first triumph over the Bohemian troops of Frederick V was interpreted as the overthrow of heresy and preeminence over the infidels and was attributed to an image of the Virgin that had miraculously blinded the opposing troops and assisted the Catholics in their victory. [40] Maximilian, who afterward styled himself as the victor in the battle, [41] enjoyed a particularly close relationship to this image of the Virgin. The Carmelite father Domenico di Gesú e Maria, who claimed to have saved the image from an outbreak of iconoclasm in Bohemia and who served Pope Paul V as a chaplain in the Bavarian army, had ridden into battle on Maximilian's horse bearing the holy image before his breast. Immediately upon his return to Munich, Maximilian expressed his gratitude to the Mother of God at the new high altar in the Frauenkirche. The custom of thanking higher powers for military victories has a tradition extending back to antiquity, involving either the erection of victory monuments—whether profane or religious—directly on the site of the event, or the promise of prayers and donations to holy places, whether temples or churches. [42] Maximilian's dedication of the high altar immediately after the event thus represented a traditional gift of gratitude. The association between the Column of Mary and this same victory, however, no longer rested on any direct temporal connection. Accordingly, its use in this context is particularly revelatory of the significance this victory had for the Bavarian prince and his circle of advisers, a meaning which now becomes visible in the iconography of the monument.



Against this historical background, it is the heroic putti, i.e. the figures created especially for the Mary column, that acquire particular significance. The armored angels, fighting against four monsters, bear on their shields the designation of the enemy found in Psalm 90:13: Super aspidem et basiliscum et leonem et draconem. [43] They fight for the Virgin, who in the figure by Gerhard embodies the type of the "Immaculata," shown as the Madonna with crown and scepter standing on the moon with the divine Child in her arm. This type in particular became widespread in the Counterreformation and was specifically associated with the battle of White Mountain as a symbol of the ecclesia militans. [44] The combination of the "Immaculata" with the heroic putti reveals the militant intent of the Marian iconography. Moreover, in Munich itself, precedents can be found which may have inspired this scheme. [45] In the "Chamber of Religion," a room in the series of so-called "stone rooms" in the residence in Munich, a ceiling painting of 1612 showed the "militante chiesa di Dio Cattolica Romana" trampling the four enemies of the faith in the form of a lion, a snake, a dragon, and a basilisk. Four personifications grouped around this central image illustrated the qualities of the victorious Catholic religion: Vigilence triumphs over the dragon of heresy, Patience crushes the heathen in the form of a lion's head, and Truth defeats the snake representing the Jews, while the basilisk who stands for the schismatics is defeated by the Roman Church itself. The sculptural program of the Mary column may thus be viewed as the logical continuation of a scheme in which Mary, a symbol of the ecclesia militans and the Woman of the Apocalypse, was instrumentalized for the Catholic church, victorious in the battle of the confessions.



The unmistakably polemical intent of the Mary column was further intensified by its placement in a central location. A look at the planning history reveals that a monument of this kind was not intended from the beginning. When in 1635 Maximilian instructed a committee of advisors to deliberate "was es für ein werkh sein ... möchte" ("what kind of a work it should be") to fulfill his oath, the first suggestion was quite conventional: the clergymen, among them Jacob Golla, dean of the collegiate convent of Our Lady, and Adam Contzen, the elector's own Jesuit confessor, recommended the donation of a yearly "service of praise" in the Frauenkirche in Munich on the feast of the Visitation of Mary and the erection of a new altar in the corresponding chapel. With this suggestion, the advisors moved within the sphere of the customary for an ex voto. Three months later, however, Maximilian convoked his Secret Council in order to deliberate once more concerning the same issue. In the minutes of the meeting, the idea of a monument appears for the first time. The final decision, then, called not only for a yearly procession, weekly mass, alms, and other religious obligations, but also for a "monumentum publicum et in publico auffm platz"("a public monument in a public square"). [46]



In its essence, the term monumentum already contains the idea of the Mary column, which was erected as a free-standing monument on a central urban plaza in the tradition of ancient memorial columns. [47] In antiquity it was above all outstanding personalities who were honored with such monuments, as for example with the columns of Trajan or Marcus Aurelius in Rome. The idea had been revived in Italy since the Quattrocento, e.g. with the Borso monument planned in Modena. [48] Now, however, columns were increasingly used to commemorate not only secular personalities, but saints as well. The figure of St. George on a column at the Piazetta in Venice may be considered the first public, free-standing monument to a saint, [49] an example which soon found numerous imitators. Such monuments commemorated the saint as patron of the city, while their placement at the town center emphasized the saint's role as protector of the community. In its place of exhibition, the Mary column in Munich, too, can and should be seen as a monument to a city patron. Apparently, however, the erection of the column on the central urban plaza was not entirely unproblematic. The elector informed the town council of his intentions only two days before the actual start of construction. [50] By that point, it was too late for opposition on the part of critics anxious to defend themselves against the ruler's intervention in affairs properly under the town's jurisdiction. Indeed, the erection of the Mary column continued the confessionalization of Bavaria under the patronage of the Virgin, which had first come to visual expression in the statue of Mary by Hans Krumper, cast in 1615 after the pattern of the Madonna of Hubert Gerhard and mounted on the façade of the newly erected residence in 1616. [51] But while the residence, placed under the protection of Mary, lay outside the innermost core of the city, the Mary column now invested the urban center, as well, with Marian symbolism at the elector's behest.



The desire to establish an association between Krumper's "Immaculata" and the Mary column and to extend the two figures' sphere of influence beyond the borders of city and territory is manifested less in the visual form of the monuments than in their inscriptions. Just as an inscription describes the palace Madonna as Patrona Boiariae, the statue on the market square is referred to as Boicae Dominae Benignissimae Protectrici Potentissimae ob patriam urbes at the base of the monument. With this formula, the region under Mary's protection is extended beyond the confines of the city over the entire land. A special dynamic is implicit in the choice of the words Boicae and Boiariae instead of Bavariae. Peter Bernhard Steiner has shown that in the learned circles around Maximilian, the term Boiaria was used not merely as another term for Bavaria, but referred specifically to the Bavaria of the medieval duke Theodo, who ruled from 690 to 717. [52] This Bavaria extended from Swabia to Hungary, from the Danube to Italy, and included Tyrol, the Steiermark, and Upper and Lower Austria as well as the dioceses of Salzburg, Freising, Regensburg, and Passau. According to Steiner, it is not entirely clear whether the use of this term was meant to suggest that the Virgin should also be made patroness of Austria; such an implication would have constituted an intentional provocation in view of the latent tensions between the Wittelsbach dukes and the Austrian Hapsburgs. In any case, with the conquest of upper Austria, granted to him between 1620 and 1628 as a pledge for the promised electorship, Maximilian had not only proven his military strength, but had also given his territorial interests a direction. [53] Even if the intent behind the choice of the term Patrona Boiariae cannot be determined with certainty, it is nevertheless clear that this historicizing designation offered the potential for multiple allusions, including the memory of a greater and mightier Bavaria. Maximilian, who regained the electorship for Bavaria in 1623, may well have had this in mind as a claim and a goal. If so, the inscription of the Mary column served to invest it with even more expansive political connotations.

The Mary column in front of S. Maria Maggiore in Rome has been identified as the direct model for the Munich monument. [54] In 1614, Pope Paul V had commissioned Maderno to procure a white marble column from the basilica of Maxentius, which then was crowned by a bronze figure of Mary executed by Guillaume Berthelot. The inscription emphasized the opposition between the antique spolia, taken from the alleged "Templum Pacis" of Vespasian, and Mary, the new princess of peace. The exorcism undertaken at the dedication of the column invested the figure of Mary with a militant impetus, displaying the Mother of God as the victorious ruler of the heathen; in view of the Catholic position in the Counterreformation, in turn, this position could also reflect back on the papal donor and his status as the head of all of Christendom. It is not improbable that Maximilian's Jesuit advisors, and maybe even the elector himself, had this monument in mind when planning the Mary column. The degree to which they sought to appropriate its far-reaching claim as well, however, remains uncertain.



The reception of the Munich Column of Mary in the Hapsburg territories, however, suggests that the monument's effectiveness was indeed recognized and that the emperor, too, sought to participate in it with two significant donations. The Mary column in Vienna, dedicated in 1647, likewise goes back to an oath sworn by the emperor in the face of the Swedish threat; yet here, too, the ceremonial dedication of the column served as an occasion to dedicate all of Austria to the Immaculate Virgin, who now became the "Domina Austriae." [55] In this monument, too, the fighting angels symbolized not merely the overcoming of acute military danger, but rather the more fundamental victory over heresy. This triumphal iconography was also employed in the Prague column, erected on the Altstädter Ring in 1650 at the decree of Ferdinand III. While an inscription attributes the liberation from the Swedes to the work of Mary, here too, as in the two earlier columns, the Counterreformation agenda is unmistakable. [56] For Prague in particular, the monument to the Virgin symbolized the re-Catholicization of Bohemia by the Hapsburgs. The erection of no less than 162 Mary columns in Bohemia and Moravia between 1650 and about 1780 may thus be viewed as the logical continuation of the successful policies of the Hapsburgs. [57] The abundance of monuments inspired by the Column of Mary in Munich reveals the tremendous popularity of this form of monument, which became an important instrument in the politics of art and culture in the age of confessional polarization. It embodies the essential religious and political aspirations of the time in an exemplary fashion: initiated by the ruler himself as a sign of personal devotion, it became a focal point for many of the faithful as well, thus effecting a close bond between the ruler and his subjects.




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FOOTNOTES


1. Cf. exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, no. 525.

2. For a foundational discussion of this and the following material, see Volk-Knüttel 1994, p. 206 and no. 22; on the entrance of Maximilian into Munich, cf. Riezler 1903, V, p. 178, based on the war diary of P. Johannes Buslidius.

3. Volk-Knüttel 1994, p. 229, no. 14; Berg 1979, pp. 272f.

4. Volk-Knüttel 1994, pp. 208-17, 220-24.

5. Hartig 1948, pp. 9f., 15-20; Erichsen 1995, pp. 73-93, esp. 75-87.

6. Cf. Woeckel 1992, pp. 47ff.; exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, no. 407.

7. Woeckel 1992, pp. 383-91.

8. Pastor 1923, VIII, pp. 592-605; Coreth 1959, pp. 43ff.

9. Riezler 1903, pp. 151, 171; Riezler 1903; exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, pp. 333ff.

10. On S. Maria della Vittoria, cf. Wolf 1995, pp. 399-414, esp. 407, 412; on the Maria-Hilf pilgrimage in Passau, cf. Härtinger 1985, as well as Woeckel 1992, pp. 150-160.

11. On Candid, cf. Volk-Knüttel 1994, p. 216 and exhib. cat. Munich 1978, pp. 22f.; on Rottenhammer, see exhib. cat. Munich 1993, pp. 87ff.

12. For an extensive treatment see Volk-Knüttel 1994, pp. 214ff.; on Rubens, cf. also exhib. cat. Antwerp 1977, no. 24 and 97, as well as cat. Liechtenstein 1985, pp. 356-60.

13. See the most recent discussion in Renger 1991, pp. 25-55.

14. Renger 1991, pp. 66-84; cf. Weber 1985, pp. 881-1000.

15. Herzog 1976, pp. 107-46; Heß 1987, pp. 207-20; Heß 1994, pp. 233-45.

16. König 1939, pp. 243-46, 310-16.

17. Dotterweich 1962, pp. 71ff.; Diez 1996, pp. 179-93; Schneider 1973, pp. 312-20.

18. See the summary in Steiner 1980, pp. 252-68.

19. Still indispensable is the study by Stieve 1876, a product of the Kulturkampf, which places primary emphasis on the defense against Protestant influences, the improvement of church discipline, the pressure to fulfill ecclesiastical duties, and the system of supervision ensuring the success of state measures.

20. Chur Prinzens Hofmaisters Instruction, December 1, 1646, in Schmidt 1892, pp. 154-179, here 160. Cf. Dollinger 1964, pp. 227-308.

21. Karnehm 1984, pp. 105-237.

22. Berg 1979, pp. 9ff.; Karnehm 1984, pp. 108-112; most recently Diemer 1997, pp. 51-90, esp. 74-77.

23. Diemer 1997, p. 72.

24. Berg 1979, pp. 117-22.

25. Cf. the etching by Wilhelm Peter Zimmermann from his 1624 cycle on the so-called "Neuburg Wedding" of Wolfgang Wilhelm of Pfalz-Neuburg with the sister of Maximilian, Magdalena of Bavaria, which shows the view through the Benno arch into the choir of the Frauenkirche with the temporary high altar; illustrated e.g. in Woeckel 1992, p. 59. Cf. exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, no. 210.

26. Diemer 1997, pp. 80-83; exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, no. 330.

27. For the high tomb from the late 15th century, cf. Ramisch 1997, pp. 41, 49. For the Baroque monument, resembling the structures of the so-called Castra doloris, cf. the new study by Diemer, which summarizes the state of the research, consisting largely of her own work (Diemer 1997, pp. 83-86).

28. On the Column of Mary, see Schattenhofer 1970; exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, pp. 457-59, 566; Woeckel 1992, pp. 58-85; Tipton 1995.

29. Aurenhammer 1956; on the relation between image and cult, see Wolf 1995, who mediates between the two opposing positions of Belting 1990 and Freedberg 1989 and emphasizes the significance of the pictorial form.

30. Letter of court chaplain Jacob Golla to the elector Maximilian from June 15, 1635 (BayHSTA Munich, GL 2708, Fasz. 568), quoted in Tipton 1995, p. 377.

31. Anonymous, The Dedication of the Column of Mary in Munich, Munich 1638, pen and wash on paper, 19.9 x 31.8 cm, Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung (Halm-Maffei-Sammlung 29912); see exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, no. 739 with illustration.

32. Cf. Hartig 1948, pp. 15-20, 23-29; Woeckel 1992, pp. 47-58; Diemer 1980, pp. 279-311, esp. 292, 308; on Hubert Gerhard, see Diemer 1980a, pp. 7-82, esp. 22 (including a discussion of the present crown, added later); an example of the occurrence of the type in Bavarian art around 1500 is the silver statue of Mary in the pilgrimage church of Kößlarn by the goldsmith Balthasar Waltenberger, dated 1488 (Glaser).

33. Exhib. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, p. 457; Woeckel 1992, p. 62.

34. Schattenhofer 1980, p. 32.

35. Marx Anton Hannas, The Column of Mary on the Schrannenplatz in Munich, woodcut, 16.5 x 12 cm, Munich, Stadtmuseum, Inv. M I 319; see exh. cat. Munich 1980, II, 2, no. 740.

36. On the population's response to crisis during the Thirty Years' War, see Roeck 1996, pp. 265-80.

37. From the extensive literature, see e.g. Kriss-Rettenbeck 1958; Kriss-Rettenbeck 1972; König 1939 with numerous examples of votive images for the pilgrimage church in Altötting; on the specific pictorial understanding of votive images, see Freedberg 1989; on the Baroque votive image, see also Wolf 1995.

38. Kriss-Rettenbeck 1972, pp. 11-19.

39. The inscription panels are no longer preserved; quoted in Woeckel 1992, p. 66.

40. On this subject, see the essays by Olivier Chaline and Oskar Bätschmann in this volume.

41. On the iconography of Maximilian in general, cf. Erichsen 1980; on the iconography showing him as the victor of the battle of White Mountain, see esp. the essay by Elisabeth von Hagenow in this volume.

42. Keller 1954; Neumüllers-Klauser 1997.

43. Quoted in Tipton 1995, p. 385; cf. also Woeckel 1992, p. 60.

44. Cf. Tipton 1995, p. 387.

45. Beissel 1910; Lienhardt 1992;

46. Quoted in Tipton 1995, p. 377.

47. On the history and typology of memorial columns, see the still-foundational work by Haftmann 1939.

48. Haftmann 1939, pp. 146ff.

49. Haftmann 1939, pp. 135f.

50. Tipton 1995, pp. 377f.; on the relation between ruler and city, see Ramisch ####, I, pp. 116-21.

51. On Krumper's Madonna, see Diemer 1980, p. 291.

52. Steiner 1980, p. 255f.

53. Ziegler 1992, p. 131

54. Tipton 1995, p. 389; Pietrangeli 1988, pp. 58ff.

55. Piesch 1948, pp. 523-533; Coreth 1959.

56. On the Mary column in Prague, see the contribution by Hojda in the first volume of this catalogue.

57. Cf. Tipton 1995, p. 375.



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