Ratramnus of Corbie's 9th-century theological letter examining whether dog-headed people possess rational souls, using their cultural practices as evidence of humanity despite their monstrous appearance.

Historical Context

Date and Authorship: The Epistola de cynocephalis is a mid-9th-century Latin letter written by Ratramnus of Corbie, a Frankish monk and theologian (d. c. 868). It was composed sometime before 865 as a response to an inquiry from a missionary named Rimbert (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). Rimbert – who was a priest (and later the successor of St. Ansgar as Archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen) – had received reports of the cynocephali, or dog-headed men, reputed to live in the far northern regions (possibly near Scandinavia). He asked Ratramnus whether these creatures were human and thus eligible for Christian conversion ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ). Ratramnus’s reply is the letter in question, and, as is common with many medieval correspondences, only his side of the exchange survives (THE SOUL OF THE DOG-MAN: RATRAMNUS OF CORBIE … - jstor).

Provenance: Ratramnus wrote the letter at the monastery of Corbie in West Francia (modern northern France), which was an intellectual hub during the Carolingian Renaissance. This period fostered scholarly inquiry and the compilation of knowledge from Biblical, patristic, and classical sources. Ratramnus himself was a prominent Carolingian thinker, known for theological works on the Eucharist, predestination, and the soul, and he was consulted by King Charles the Bald on various issues ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ). The Epistola de cynocephalis was composed in the context of Carolingian missionary expansion and theological debate, notably the effort to Christianize pagan peoples of Northern Europe. The Frankish court and church were keenly interested in how to regard distant peoples described in travelers’ or missionaries’ reports. Monstrous races like the cynocephali had been mentioned in classical and late antique sources, so Ratramnus approached the question with both curiosity and theological caution.

Intellectual Environment: The letter was written in an age when scholars had access to the works of Church Fathers (especially St. Augustine) and encyclopedists like Isidore of Seville. There was a lively theological-intellectual environment in the 9th century, colored by debates on reason, the soul, and the scope of salvation. Ratramnus, a devotee of Augustinian thought ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ) ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ), brought the tools of logic and patristic authority to bear on a fantastical ethnographic question. His task was to determine if the dog-headed men fell within the Christian conception of humanity – a question at the intersection of missionary pragmatism and theological anthropology. In summary, the Epistola was crafted in the Carolingian era’s spirit of inquiry, addressing a real concern of missionaries like Rimbert (whether to evangelize such creatures) within the framework of Christian doctrine and classical learning.

Theological Implications

The Question of Humanity: The core theological issue in Ratramnus’s Epistola de cynocephalis is the status of the cynocephali in theological anthropology – essentially, are these dog-headed beings to be considered human, made in the image of God, with rational souls capable of salvation? Ratramnus structures his response by weighing evidence of the cynocephali’s behavior and nature. He notes that many theologians of his time inclined to view these creatures as animals rather than true men ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ), likely because of their bestial appearance and the authority of earlier writings (like Isidore’s claim that their barking speech makes them “rather beasts than humans” (Cynocephali)). However, Ratramnus carefully examines whether the cynocephali exhibit qualities of rational creatures.

Evidence of Rationality: In the letter, Ratramnus lists several human-like traits reported of the dog-headed people, arguing that these behaviors demonstrate the presence of ratio (reason) and thus a human soul (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). According to Ratramnus’s account, the cynocephali:

Ratramnus concludes that these behaviors “seem to demonstrate that some kind of rational soul is in them” (in Latin, “Haec enim omnia rationalem quodammodo testificari videntur eis inesse animam” (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror)). He notes that man is distinguished from beasts solely by the faculty of reason (“Homo vero a bestiis ratione tantummodo discernitur” (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror)). Since the cynocephali appear to exercise reason (evidenced by their culture and dominion over animals), Ratramnus reasons that “they would seem to be regarded as humans rather than beasts” (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). In other words, despite their animalistic head and speech, their rational activities place them within humanity. Anyone who would deny the link between those behaviors and true reason, Ratramnus pointedly remarks, “must himself lack reason” (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror).

Theological Anthropology: By affirming the presence of a rational soul in the cynocephali, Ratramnus is making a significant theological statement about the breadth of humanity in God’s creation. He implies that the Imago Dei (image of God, often associated with human rationality) might extend even to those who outwardly appear monstrous. This raises issues of inclusivity in the human family descended from Adam. Indeed, Ratramnus sees “no good reason to object to the view that they are descendants of Adam” ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ). Here he aligns with St. Augustine’s perspective in The City of God: Augustine had argued that however strange a creature’s appearance, “whoever is born a man, that is, a rational, mortal animal… no Christian can doubt that he springs from that one protoplast [Adam]” (Cynocephali). Ratramnus essentially applies this Augustinian principle – if the cynocephalus is rational and mortal, he is part of humankind and shares in original sin and the potential for salvation.

Salvation and Evangelization: The practical upshot of Ratramnus’s argument is that the cynocephali merit evangelization if they indeed have rational souls (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). He stops short of absolute certainty (his language is cautious, using words like “videntur” – “they seem to be human”), but ultimately he leans toward a positive answer. If they are humans, they are capable of receiving the Gospel and baptism. In fact, Ratramnus concludes there is “no impediment” to considering them fit for baptism and conversion, given the evidence of their rational nature ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ). This reflects a broad theological optimism that Christ’s mandate could extend to all “nations,” even those at the fringes of the known world who look different from normal humans.

Biblical and Patristic References: Throughout the letter, Ratramnus bolsters his reasoning with learned references. The Book of Genesis is explicitly invoked: he cites the passage where God gave humans dominion over the animals (Genesis 1:26-28) to argue that only beings with a human soul can truly domesticate other creatures (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). He also alludes to known “teratological” traditions – for example, he mentions the legend of St. Christopher (often depicted in late antique tradition as a dog-headed convert) and other monstrous births, though he notes these stories do not provide firm proof one way or the other (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). Patristic sources like Augustine underlie his thought (as noted above), and he even touches on apocryphal material: at one point Ratramnus questions the authority of the “Book of St. Clement” (likely the Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions) because its claims did not fully accord with Church doctrine ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ). This critical aside shows Ratramnus sifting sources – he respects the Church Fathers but is willing to set aside dubious writings in forming his conclusion. Overall, the text’s theological engagement is rooted in the Christian understanding of universality of the human race and the duty to preach the Gospel to all rational creatures.

Linguistic Examination

Structure and Style: The Epistola de cynocephalis is written in formal Latin epistolary style. It is concise (only a few pages in the Patrologia Latina edition) yet logically structured. Ratramnus likely opens by restating Rimbert’s question and then proceeds through a reasoned argument, almost in a scholastic manner avant la lettre. The prose is characteristic of 9th-century Carolingian Latin, which often emulated classical grammar and clarity while incorporating ecclesiastical vocabulary. Ratramnus’s sentences are well-formed and articulate, reflecting the training of a monk who was conversant with Scripture and Latin literature. For instance, he uses balanced clauses and antithesis: at one point he contrasts “Hominum denique est rotundum vertice coelum aspicere” (it is characteristic of humans to gaze at the heavens with upright, round heads) with “canum vero… rostroque [prona spectare]” (whereas dogs, with elongated skulls and snouts, look toward the ground) (THE SOUL OF THE DOG-MAN: RATRAMNUS OF CORBIE … - jstor). This kind of construction shows a deliberate rhetorical style, presenting the opposing views (human vs. animal traits) in parallel before countering them.

Use of Vocabulary: The Latin is generally straightforward, but it includes some technical or rare terms appropriate to the subject. Cynocephali is a Greek loanword (kynokephalos meaning “dog-head”) adopted into Latin usage (earlier found in Isidore and others). Ratramnus discusses the anima rationalis (rational soul) versus a bestialis (animal) nature – vocabulary drawn from classical philosophy and patristic theology. Notably, he repeatedly uses forms of the verb videre/videri (“to see/seem”) to qualify his assertions. This is a stylistic marker: the text is filled with phrases like “videntur…animam” (“seem to have a soul”) and “homines… deputandi videntur” (“they would seem to be reckoned as humans”) (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). The cautious use of videntur (seem) adds a tone of scholarly humility and conditional reasoning, as Ratramnus weighs possibilities rather than declaring dogma. Finally, in his conclusion, he switches to a more confident tone with “nequaquam video” (“I in no way see [how it could be otherwise]”) (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror), changing from “it seems” to “I see” to signal his reasoned conviction. This subtle shift from tentative to declarative language is a notable rhetorical feature of the letter (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror).

Lexical Peculiarities: Ratramnus’s Latin generally aligns with standard usage of his era, but there are a few points of interest. He refers to gens or populus of the cynocephali (treating them as a nation or race of people), and uses terms like mos (custom/law) when describing their societal order. When discussing sources, he names the “liber beati Clementis” (Book of St. Clement) ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ), showing he was aware of apocryphal texts and comfortable citing them by title. His rejection of that text’s authority also reveals a critical Latin vocabulary for authenticity (he might say it is “not fully in agreement with the Church,” indicating a discernment in accepted sources). Another lexical feature is the use of descriptive terms for the cynocephali’s behavior: he uses words such as agricultura (farming), vestitus (clothing), legibus (laws), which situate the discussion in concrete human activities rather than mythical marvels. There is little ornament or allegory in his word choice – a somewhat unusual approach, since many medieval writers describing monstrous races would drift into moralizing language. Ratramnus instead keeps a neutral, almost ethnographic tone. This plain style and focus on practical terms mark the letter as a serious inquiry rather than a fantastical tale.

Comparative Linguistic Notes: Compared to other Latin texts of the same period, Ratramnus’s language is clear and rational, with less verbosity than, say, contemporary poetry or sermons. It shares the Carolingian scholarly quality of being rooted in classical Latin formulation (for example, defining man by reason is reminiscent of Boethius or Augustine). His Latin is more analytical than the cataloguing style of Isidore’s Etymologiae; Isidore simply defines cynocephali briefly (Cynocephali), whereas Ratramnus constructs a reasoned argument in Latin prose. Also, unlike later medieval bestiary literature that often employed fanciful or symbolic language, Ratramnus’s tone is restrained. The structure is that of a theological disputation in letter form – he states a question, considers objections (like their dog-like physical traits and the precedent of learned opinion considering them beasts), then marshals evidence to arrive at a resolution. In doing so, he shows familiarity with Scripture and patristic Latin, quoting or paraphrasing authorities. For example, the statement that humans are distinguished from animals only by reason (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror) echoes a commonplace in Christian philosophy and might be drawing from sources like Gregory the Great or Augustine. In sum, the Latin of Epistola de cynocephalis is noteworthy for its clarity, balanced argumentation, and measured use of sources – qualities that reflect the Carolingian Renaissance’s revival of learned Latin prose.

Relationship to Medieval Thought

Monstrous Races in Medieval Imaginaries: The question Ratramnus grappled with – what to make of the monstrous “dog-headed” race – fits into a broader medieval fascination with monstrous peoples at the edges of the world. Since antiquity, Greco-Roman writers like Pliny the Elder had described fantastical races (cynocephali, blemmyae, cyclopes, etc.), and these accounts were transmitted through Late Antique and early medieval encyclopedists. Medieval Christians inherited these ideas and had to reconcile them with biblical universalism. Isidore of Seville, in the early 7th century, included the cynocephali in his Etymologiae as an example of monstrous races (monstruosae gentes) in humanity (Cynocephali). However, Isidore’s assessment was dismissive: “The Cynocephali are so called because they have dogs’ heads, and their barking indeed reveals that they are rather beasts than humans” (Cynocephali). This view – that such creatures lack true human speech and thus blur the boundary between human and animal – was one strain of thought in the Middle Ages.

Cynocephali and the Boundaries of Humanity: Ratramnus’s letter is a remarkable early medieval attempt to clarify the boundaries of humanity. Augustine of Hippo had set the tone in the 5th century by arguing that one should not outright deny the possibility of monstrous human races, and that if they exist, they too descend from Adam (Cynocephali) (Cynocephali). Following Augustine, most medieval theologians maintained that physical differences (even extreme ones) did not exclude a people from the lineage of Adam and Eve. Ratramnus’s conclusion that the cynocephali likely possess reason and are “homines potius quam bestiae” (humans rather than beasts) (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror) is very much in line with this Augustinian inclusivity. Yet his method is notably rationalistic, focusing on culture and behavior rather than appearance. In doing so, Ratramnus anticipates later scholastic discussions about what defines a human being (body, soul, reason, capacity for virtue, etc.). He anchors the definition of humanity in rationality and dominion – effectively saying that even if a creature looks partially animal, if it evidences the God-given authority and reason of humans, it must count as human. This was a significant stance because it opened the door for seeing the “monstrous races” not as moral metaphors or errors of nature, but as part of the human family potentially needing salvation.

“Cynocephali” from The Travels of Sir John Mandeville - The New York Public Library

Medieval depiction of cynocephali: dog-headed men wearing human clothing and engaging in dialogue, from a 15th-century manuscript of *The Travels of Sir John Mandeville. Such images illustrate how the cynocephali were imagined in the medieval world – as humanoid creatures with canine heads, sometimes even capable of speech and social organization. (“Cynocephali” from The Travels of Sir John Mandeville - The New York Public Library)

Connections to Other Works: The content of Ratramnus’s Epistola connects to several streams of medieval thought and literature. First, it can be seen as a form of ethnographic inquiry similar to what we find in later travel literature. While earlier authors like St. Augustine discussed monstrous races philosophically, Ratramnus treats the cynocephali almost as an anthropologist might: examining reports of their customs to determine their nature. In this sense, modern scholars have even termed his approach “monstrous ethnography” (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). This rational investigation of a single fabulous race is unusual for its time – medieval writers more commonly compiled long lists of marvels rather than focusing on one and debating its status. Ratramnus’s approach here is more akin to later medieval travel writers (e.g. John Mandeville or Marco Polo in the 13th–14th centuries) who reported the existence of dog-headed men in far-off lands, sometimes noting their ability to speak or be converted. His insistence on the cynocephali’s agriculture, clothing, law, and animal husbandry also resonates with classical ideas that to be fully human is to be part of a civilized community (civitas). Recent research (such as Sam Ottewill-Soulsby’s “City of Dog”) has noted that in Greco-Roman and medieval thought, participating in city life or organized society was a key marker of humanity; cynocephali who live in towns thus challenge the notion of them being mere beasts.

Ratramnus’s arguments also evoke comparisons to bestiary literature and allegory, though interestingly he avoids allegorical interpretation. In medieval bestiaries, strange peoples like cynocephali often appeared as wondrous creatures symbolizing spiritual conditions (for example, dog-headed men might be used to symbolize anger or savagery in a moral lesson). Ratramnus explicitly eschews moralization (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror); he is not interested in turning the cynocephalus into a symbol of sin (such as a “barker” representing a slanderer) – a common trope he pointedly sets aside. Instead, he treats their existence as literal and asks a pragmatic Christian question: should missionaries seek to convert them (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror)? This pragmatic stance places his letter in line with medieval missionary theory. It echoes the sentiment of Pope Gregory the Great, who sent missionaries to England thinking even “barbarians” could embrace the faith, and it foreshadows debates about evangelizing peoples thought to be very different or barbaric. In Ratramnus’s time, this issue was not merely theoretical – the Carolingian Church was actively converting Saxons, Slavs, and contemplating missions beyond the borders (the inquiry came from the mission field of the North).

Moreover, the letter ties into the predestination controversy of the 9th century indirectly. At the Council of Paris in 859 (convened in part to address doctrines of predestination), bishops even discussed the hypothetical salvation of monstrous races like the cynocephali (Cynocephali). Notably, Ratramnus was sympathetic to Gottschalk of Orbais (a monk condemned for his predestinarian views) and opposed Hincmar of Reims in theological tone. While Ratramnus argued for the humanity of cynocephali, contemporaries like Hincmar of Reims reportedly took a different approach: Hincmar concluded cynocephali were not human, though in an interesting twist he and others still allowed that if these creatures accepted baptism, they could be saved (Cynocephali). This peculiar stance by Hincmar (treating cynocephali as a sort of animal with possible salvation) did not gain wide traction, but it shows that Ratramnus’s more inclusive view was not unanimously held even in his day. His letter can thus be seen as part of a broader 9th-century discussion on how far God’s saving providence and the definition of “neighbor” extended – a discussion that engaged Scripture, theology, and even conciliar decision.

In later medieval thought, the cynocephali and other monstrous peoples continued to captivate imaginations. High and late medieval encyclopedists like Vincent of Beauvais in the 13th century cited earlier authorities (Pliny, Augustine, Isidore) and accepted that such races existed in distant lands. Maps like the 13th-century Hereford Mappa Mundi famously depict cynocephali in the margins of the world, reinforcing the idea that these creatures inhabited the fringes of the earth. The question of their spiritual status, however, was largely settled along the lines of Augustine and Ratramnus: if encountered, they should be treated as human. We see this carried forward when travelers’ tales report dog-headed men – there is an assumption that, though strange, they are part of humanity. Thus, Ratramnus’s reasoned treatment helped cement a framework for understanding monstrous races within a Christian worldview, emphasizing a continuity of human nature beneath accidental physical differences.

Manuscript Tradition and Reception

Transmission: The Epistola de cynocephalis appears to have had a very limited circulation in the Middle Ages. It survives in only a single known manuscript from the 11th century (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror), suggesting it was not widely copied or disseminated. This lone copy indicates the text may have been preserved in an archive of correspondence or a compilation of miscellaneous theological letters. In the early 20th century, Ernst Dümmler published the Latin text in the Monumenta Germaniae Historica (MGH) series, based on that manuscript (In the Middle: Cynocephali, Animal Savagery, and Terror). J.-P. Migne had earlier included it in Patrologia Latina vol. 121, cols. 1153B–1156D (Patrologia Latina/121 - Wikisource), likely drawing on the same source or an earlier printed edition. Because of the scant manuscript evidence, we do not have variant versions – the text of the letter is essentially singular. There is no indication that it was widely excerpted or translated in the medieval period, unlike more popular works. Indeed, its specialized nature (a letter about a curious theological question) might have limited its audience to the immediate circle of correspondents and a few learned readers.

Medieval Reception: It seems the letter did not spark a known medieval commentary or become a standard reference in theological debates after the 9th century. As noted, figures like Hincmar and others engaged with the topic of cynocephali independently, rather than explicitly citing Ratramnus’s epistle. The concept of dog-headed people was absorbed into general knowledge from sources like Isidore and popular voyagers’ lore, rather than through Ratramnus’s treatise. In effect, the Epistola de cynocephalis fell into obscurity along with many of Ratramnus’s writings. (In fact, even Ratramnus’s major works, such as his treatise on the Eucharist, were lost to history for a time and only rediscovered in later centuries ( Philip Schaff: New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, Vol. IX: Petri - Reuchlin - Christian Classics Ethereal Library ).) This relative neglect may be due in part to the disfavor Ratramnus fell into with some authorities (his Eucharistic doctrine was later deemed heterodox by the 11th century) and partly due to the niche subject matter.

However, the question it addressed – the humanity and salvation of monstrous races – remained intermittently relevant. We know that the Council of Paris (AD 859) briefly considered the salvation of “monsters” including cynocephali (Cynocephali), indicating the issue was part of the intellectual climate. Later on, when Europe expanded its geographic horizons (Crusades, Marco Polo’s travels, etc.), the theoretical groundwork laid by thinkers like Ratramnus (via Augustine) provided a theological reassurance: no matter how odd the peoples encountered, they were part of God’s plan. In that sense, even without being widely read, Ratramnus’s conclusions harmonized with mainstream Christian doctrine and thus reflected and reinforced the prevailing attitude.

Modern Scholarship: In recent times, the Epistola de cynocephalis has garnered attention as a fascinating intersection of medieval theology, anthropology, and lore. Scholars have revisited the text as an example of early medieval reasoning on the definition of humanity. The letter has been examined in the context of medieval attitudes toward the “Other” and the natural order. For instance, Paul Edward Dutton highlighted Ratramnus’s work in discussing Carolingian thought on human diversity (Ratramnus - Wikipedia), and it has been included in translations of Carolingian writings for modern readers. Historian John Block Friedman (in The Monstrous Races in Medieval Art and Thought) noted Ratramnus’s contribution to the long tradition of discussing monstrous races. More recently, Karl Steel, in How to Make a Human: Animals and Violence in the Middle Ages, devotes analysis to Ratramnus, emphasizing how dominion over animals was used as a yardstick for humanity (Animal Anger in the Middle Ages – Medieval Karl). Steel observes that Ratramnus’s “Letter on the Dog-Heads” concluded that regardless of outward appearance, the dog-headed people are rational beings because they domesticate other animals, underscoring a medieval conviction that human identity is tied to mastery over nature (Animal Anger in the Middle Ages – Medieval Karl). Such modern interpretations show how Ratramnus’s seemingly esoteric question actually taps into fundamental medieval concepts of what it means to be human.

Furthermore, scholars like Scott G. Bruce have discussed the letter as a form of “monstrous ethnography,” where hagiographical or legendary material (like the story of St. Christopher or the general catalog of monsters) is repurposed into a serious ethnographic argument. This scholarly interest illustrates the letter’s relevance to understanding medieval worldviews: it is a rare case of a medieval writer directly grappling with a borderline case of humanity. In terms of its relevance to modern scholarship, the Epistola de cynocephalis offers insight into Carolingian intellectual networks (Ratramnus corresponding with a missionary in the far north), the use of classical and patristic authorities in medieval science and theology, and the early medieval handling of cultural relativism. It bridges myth and theology – showing how even fantastical creatures were brought into the fold of Christian theory through reasoned analysis.

In conclusion, the Epistola de cynocephalis is a small but illuminating work. Historically, it emerged from a 9th-century missionary and theological context. Theologically, it tackled the inclusion of “monstrous” peoples in the human family, effectively applying Christian universalism to the fringes of the known world. Linguistically, it exemplifies clear Carolingian Latin and methodical argumentation. Within medieval thought, it stands at the crossroads of inherited myth and doctrinal reasoning, reinforcing the idea that marvels of geography did not lie outside God’s creation or the Church’s concern. And though its manuscript transmission was scant, its ideas find resonance in both its contemporary medieval milieu and in modern scholarly discussions about defining humanity in a world of marvelous diversity.

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