The Inheritance of Looting

Using theological persuasion and military pressure, Bern supported the conversion of the cities of Geneva and Lausanne to Protestantism during the Reformation.

In the sixteenth century, the confession of a region was bound up with political power relations. Subject territories were required to adopt the confession of their territorial rulers.

In the dispute at Lausanne, Bern took the side of the city, which wanted to be rid of the bishop as its territorial lord and convert to the Reformation. The city would have liked to keep the cathedral’s valuable church treasury, but after a prolonged back-and-forth, it was forced to yield to pressure from the more powerful Bern.

The bishop’s ecclesiastical silver, liturgical vestments, and secular textiles were transported to Bern.

The city of Lausanne, the cathedral clergy, the bishop, and the Bernese council contested ownership of the cathedral treasury. Various inventories were meant to prevent theft and provide an overview of the assets involved—though this was not entirely successful.

Bern transported eighteen wagonloads of church property back to Bern, including the four tapestries depicting the story of the Roman general Julius Caesar. This is documented by an entry in a contemporary inventory.

Charles the Bold found role models in ancient generals and rulers.

The Burgundian dukes used tapestries with figural scenes as decorations through which political messages could be broadcast to the court and visiting dignitaries. Charles the Bold owned a multi-part series of wall hangings depicting the deeds of Caesar. It has been lost, but likely resembled that of the de La Baume family.

Caesar was portrayed as a successful general, victorious in perilous battles. His clothing and weaponry, however, follow late-medieval fashion—the past appears dressed in the garb of the present.

In Reformed Bern, the seized tapestries were guarded under lock and key in the town hall.

In 1754, the “Burgundian spoils” from the townhall archive were publicly displayed: a unique event. The city councilmen had to decide what would become of them, and the public was now permitted to view these wondrous attractions. Even a newspaper from Zurich drew readers’ attention to this exhibition.

With their life-size Roman figures and scenes, the tapestries were said to be executed with great artistry.

While the tapestries remained in the town hall, the city councilmen considered selling off the “Burgundian” ecclesiastical vestments.

For the regular assemblies of Switzerland’s highest-ranking politicians and for foreign envoys, Bern tried to present itself in the best possible light.

Every six years during the first half of the nineteenth century, international diplomats and delegates from the cantons gathered in Bern to address national political affairs at the “Tagsatzung” (Federal Diet).

On the occasions of these major political events, the city provided an extra accompanying cultural program including an exhibition of contemporary art and one showcasing the latest achievements in Swiss industry and trade.

In the choir of the Minster Franz Sigmund Wagner arranged an exhibition of the “tapestries [wall hangings], knightly garments, and mass vestments” captured from Charles the Bold.

Bern’s captured medieval wall hangings were used as a backdrop for the opening ceremonies of the Tagsatzung (Federal Diet).

The Flemish tapestries were moved from the Minster and displayed in the Church of the Holy Spirit for the opening ceremony of the Tagsatzung.

The tapestries were trophies acquired “with the blood of the fathers,” that officials placed on the floor so that the feet of the Confederacy’s current representatives could now “rest once more”. A pleasant thought, as the federal correspondent remarked in 1804. The church commission responsible for the tapestries’ safekeeping, however, objected: henceforth, the tapestries would only be lent out for use as wall decoration, no longer as carpets on the floor.

Commemorative processions marking historic events made it possible for participants to experience history firsthand and to cultivate patriotism—a colorful pageant of costumes, imitations, and genuine spoils.

In 1853, a lavish procession with historical costumes was staged to celebrate 600 years since Bern’s entry into the Swiss Confederacy.

The organizers hoped that the men and boys of Bern took on the roles of their heroic forebears would inherit their virtues. The festive procession concluded with a display of captured war spoils, featuring a “booty cart.” The Caesar tapestries served as the model for the reconstructed tent of Charles the Bold displayed on the cart. We can discern their influence in the faint drawing in the album where we spy the seated Roman ruler (facing the opposite direction as on the tapestry, but clearly derived from it).

State treasures were kept in the town hall’s archival vault: money, charters, promissory notes, and, remarkably, looted textiles.

Thick walls and a stone vault protected the Bernese government’s treasury. The “upper” vault housed a large cabinet in which the “state antiquities” were kept — predominantly textiles captured in wars and confessional conflicts.

These secular and (formerly) sacred objects no longer had any practical function within the early modern Bernese state. They now functioned as cultural capital — as a repository of value, as a symbol of triumph recalling past military greatness, and as “art.”

When a new city official took office, he was required to review the treasury’s inventory with the outgoing official. The incumbent and his successor examined the register together. In this manner, two sets of eyes maintained an overview of the city’s riches and made sure that nothing went missing.

The person responsible for the archive rooms, the “registrar,” had to draw up an inventory of the books, charters, promissory notes, and state antiquities kept there before any handover of office. In the presence of a scribe, “all carpets, vestments, canvases, and flags were unpacked,” recorded on the list, and packed away again.

Only when this procedure was completed did the incoming official receive the keys. This process reveals how the administration maintained control over Bern’s spoils of war. Creating these institutionalized inventories was a key step in transforming war booty into cultural heritage and establishing official cultural narratives and identities through the institutional control of objects.

The city’s concern about the preservation of its captured textile treasures attests to their growing significance as cultural heritage.

The authorities were concerned about dampness and vermin in the archive rooms of the town hall and began looking for a better place to store the textiles. Initially, they considered moving the pile of “carpets, altar decorations, and vestments” to the arsenal.

They were said to be monuments to the victory over the Duke of Burgundy, remains of the pre-Reformation Minster treasury, and other ‘accoutrements of ’ päpstlichen Mummereien”—a pejorative reference to Catholic “theatrics”.

In the end, however, they chose the dry and clean sacristy in the Minster. A new inventory list documents the 86 objects transferred there.

For a long time, historical exhibits only existed as an auxiillery “add-on” to other collections—in the city library, the Antonierhaus, the arsenal, or the minster.

It was not until 1881 that men interested in history and heritage in Bern joined the historical objects previously kept and displayed at various locations in one location. They founded a distinct institution — the first ‘Historisches Museum’ for the city.

The natural history holdings, as well as the works of painting and sculpture, had already been channeled into individual museums: the Natural History Museum and the Art Museum. The impetus for founding a historical museum came when a famous collection of Swiss cultural heritage was sold at auction and many objects went abroad.

In 1882, Bern sought to shore up its strained finances by selling medieval ecclesiastical embroideries.

The main hall of the new Historical Museum was adorned with the large wall hangings, all of which continued to be classified as Burgundian booty.

The medieval ecclesiastical vestments were evidently held in lower esteem. A progressive newspaper even proposed selling them off in order to shore up the city’s finances.

The tapestries “captured with the blood of the ancestors,” by contrast, were said to be of inestimable value and inalienable.

The Dukes of Burgundy (Burgunderherzöge) traveled frequently with their court. Luxurious wall hangings could be rolled up and moved when the dukes were traveling. Luxurious tapestries provided a convenient means of transmitting political messages on the road.

Tapestries (Tapisserien) were the princely medium of representation par excellence in the late Middle Ages. Wall hangings could transform spaces into festival halls, whether church choirs, castle halls, or large tents.

At official meetings, tapestries were selected to underscored political concerns and impress guests.

Transporting tapestries, however, was a logistical challenge and risky in wartime. In the battles of 1476, Charles the Bold lost many tapestries and was unable to procure replacements of his own in time, for instance, for celebrations he wanted to hold in order to announce the marriage of his daughter.

The longer textiles are exposed to light, the more they fade — even in a museum.

In the medieval and early modern periods, tapestries were usually hung only for special occasions. In modern museums, however, there was a desire to display these prized showpieces at all times and make them accessible to everyone. Daylight, however, damages the textile fibers and bleaches the colors. The Caesar tapestries had been on almost continuous display since the opening of the Bernisches Historisches Museum in 1894 until 2008 — until 1985, they were even exposed to daylight.

A comparison of the fronts with the backs of the tapestries shows how much more vivid the coloring once was.