The Catholic Historical Review VOL. LXXXVI OCTOBER, 2000 No. 4 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT BY JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT* On Christmas eve of the year 1144, the citizens of the several crusading states clustered on the shore of the eastern Mediterranean received a telling set-back to their self-confidence. The county of Edessa had fallen to the forces of ‘Im d-al-D n Zengi,the ruler of Mosul and Aleppo.1 The response to Edessa’s fall “. . . caused a considerable stir in the West . . . ,”2 but a retaliatory expedition was to wait for the response to a crusading bull from the newly-elected pope, Eugenius III (1145– 1153), a bull issued on December 1, 1145.3 This Cistercian pope then entrusted his former abbot, Bernard of Clairvaux, with the task of preaching a crusade to rescue the Holy Land from the dangers threatening it. *Dr. Sommerfeldt is a professor of history in the University of Dallas. This article is a revised and expanded version of a paper presented in May of 1994 at the Cistercian Conference held in conjunction with the Twenty-ninth International Medieval Congress at Kalamazoo, Michigan. He wishes to express his gratitude to this journal’s anonymous reader, who provided many insightful and useful suggestions. 1 See the article, by Hamilton A. R. Gibb, “Zengi and the Fall of Edessa,” in A History of the Crusades (edited by Kenneth M. Setton), Volume I: The First Hundred Years (edited by Marshall W. Baldwin) (Madison, Milwaukee, and London, 1969), pp. 446–462. 2 Hans Eberhard Mayer, The Crusades, translated by John Gillingham ([Oxford, 1972]), p. 96. 3 Short accounts in English of the events of the Second Crusade can be found in Mayer, op. cit., pp. 96–109; Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Crusades: A Short History (New Haven and London, [1987]), pp. 93–107; and Richard A. Newhall, The Crusades (New York, [1963]), pp. 56–60.A more detailed account is given by Virginia G. Berry in “The Second Crusade,” in A History of the Crusades,Volume I: The First Hundred Years, pp. 463–512. 567 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 568 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT Bernard’s role in preaching the Second Crusade was critical to the launching of that expedition. His influence aroused the European conscience to the point that he could write Pope Eugenius: You have commanded, and I have obeyed. And the authority of your command has made my obedience fruitful. Since “I have announced and have spoken, [the soldiers of the cross] have increased beyond number [Psalm 39:6].” Cities and castles are emptied, and now seven women can hardly find one man to hold [see Isaiah 4:1]—so much so that everywhere there are widows whose husbands are still alive.4 In the course of launching the crusade, Bernard enrolled, at Vézelay in March, 1146, the hosts of a willing—indeed, eager—King Louis VII of France (1137–1180).5 At Speyer in December of 1146, Bernard enlisted the army of the hesitant emperor-elect, Conrad III (1137–1152).6 Conrad was understandably reluctant since tensions between his family, the Hohenstaufen, and the supporters of Conrad’s old enemy, Duke Welf VI, had approached a state of civil war. Bernard’s influence, apparently aided by that of his Cistercian confrère, Adam of Ebrach, won Welf to the same cause as his ruler and thus enabled both sides to join in the crusading pilgrimage.7 Due in large part to Bernard’s efforts, a vast army of men took the cross and set out for the East.8 Bernard’s role in the calling of the crusade is clear, but his motivation in preaching what we call the Second Crusade has been less studied.9 4 Epistola [hereafter Ep] 247.2; edited by Jean Leclercq et al. in Sancti Bernardi opera [hereafter SBOp] (8 vols. in 9; Rome, 1957–1977), VIII, 141. Although the translations in this article are mine, I have included references to translations for those who wish to read in English the entire treatise or letter cited or quoted. In this case the translation can be found in Bruno Scott James, The Letters of St. Bernard of Clairvaux (London, [1953]; reprinted [Kalamazoo, 1998]), p. 399. 5 See Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovici VII in orientem 1; edited and translated by Virginia Gingerick Berry (New York, [1948]), p. 8. 6 See the Sancti Bernardi abbatis Clarae-Vallensis vita et res gestae: Liber sextus seu miracula a sancto Bernardo per Germaniam, Belgium Galliamque patrata, anno 1146 4.15; in Patrologia latina, edited by J.-P. Migne (221 vols.; Paris, 1841),Vol. 185, cols. 381–382. 7 See Otto of Freising, Gesta Friderici I. imperatoris 1.42; in Monumenta Germaniae historica: Scriptores rerum Germanicarum in usum scholarium . . . , 46; edited by G. Waitz and B. de Simpson (Hannover and Leipzig, 1912), pp. 60–61. Translated by Charles Christopher Mierow in The Deeds of Frederick Barbarossa by Otto of Freising and His Continuator, Rahewin (New York, [1953]), pp. 75–76. 8 Watkin Williams has reckoned the figure at 300,000 to 400,000 men, based on the numbers—probably exaggerated—he has found in contemporary sources. See Williams’ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux ([Manchester, 1935; reprinted 1953]), pp. 281–282. 9 Two excellent studies of elements of Bernard’s motivation have been made. See Jean Leclercq, “Saint Bernard’s Attitude Toward War,” in Studies in Medieval Cistercian His- BY JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT 569 An oblique reference to Bernard’s motives in serving as a catalyst to the crusade has, however, been made by Yael Katzir in her article “The Second Crusade and the Redefinition of Ecclesia, Christianitas and Papal Coercive Power.”10 There she writes:“It is possible that Bernard himself viewed the Second Crusade as a new reform movement.”11 With this article I should like to alter Katzir’s statement in one fundamental way: by changing the mood from subjunctive to indicative. As I see it, Bernard’s role in the crusading movement can only be understood in the context of his attempts to reform the Church and society of the twelfth century—in no small part by reforming the lives and attitudes of those lay folk charged with the governance of that society. For Bernard, the fundamental task of lay rulers is to provide justice, the right ordering of society which will provide their people a proper environment in which to pursue happiness. Those charged with the governance of the state must have as their chief goal the salvation of those who inhabit the land they rule. Thus Bernard writes to Emperor Lothar: Blessed be God, who chose you and has raised you up to be a horn of salvation for us [see Luke 1:69], for the praise and glory of his name and for the restoration of the glory of the Empire, for the support of the Church in an evil hour [see 2 Maccabees 1:5], and, finally, for the work of salvation in the midst of the earth [see Psalm 73:12].12 Thus Lothar and his fellow rulers must exercise their function as vassals of the Lord by serving their people as “. . . the faithful minister[s] of God.”13 The justice of each realm must be defended by its ruler—by force if necessary. The right ordering of the state is impossible unless rulers protect their lands from hostile invasion.14 Like King David of old, they may be “. . . obliged to wage war against dangerous enemies.”15 Dangertory II, edited by John R. Sommerfeldt (“Cistercian Studies” series [hereafter CS], Vol. 24 [Kalamazoo,Michigan,1976]),pp.1–39;and Thomas Renna,“Early Cistercian Attitudes Toward War in Historical Perspective,” Cîteaux: Commentarii Cistercienses, 31 (1980), 119–129. I shall acknowledge my debt to these authors below. 10 In The Second Crusade and the Cistercians, edited by Michael Gervers (New York, [1992]), pp. 3–11. 11 Katzir, op. cit., p. 8. 12 Ep 139.1; SBOp,VII, 335; James, op. cit., p. 210. 13 Ep 497; SBOp,VIII, 434; James, op. cit., p. 75. See my “Vassals of the Lord and Ministers of God: The Role of the Governing Class in the Ecclesiology of Bernard of Clairvaux,” Cistercian Studies Quarterly, 29 (1994), 55–60. 14 See Ep 140; SBOp,VII, 337; James, op. cit., p. 217. See also Leclercq, op. cit., p. 4. 15 Ep 83.2; SBOp,VII, 217; James, op. cit., p. 123. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 570 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT ous enemies of justice can cause internal disruption as well as violation of a state’s frontiers. Rulers are also responsible for the defeat of these internal enemies; those who “. . . divide and devastate . . .” a country “. . . ought to fear [the just ruler] as the protector and experience [him] as the avenger” of the people.16 The terror of those “. . . who see their land given over to depredation and plunder”must be alleviated by force of arms.17 It is clear that, for Bernard, warfare is sometimes necessary and, thus, can be justified. His critical concern in justifying armed action is the motivation for that action: the ruler must “. . . choose to fight for God rather than for the world.”18 Bernard writes to Abbot Suger of Saint Denis about the motivation which has sent off their king, Louis VII, to protect the Holy Land: He is a king who serves the King whose “kingdom endures throughout all ages [Psalm 144:13],” who moves peoples and realms. Our king serves so that the King of heaven will not lose his land, the land “on which his feet have stood [Psalm 131:7].” Our king—though he possesses unparalleled glory and is rich in goods, though secure in peace and victorious in battle, though still young in years—chooses to exile himself from his own lands to serve in foreign climes. Nevertheless, to serve God is to reign.19 To be “victorious in battle” is no vice; to battle in the service of God is a virtue. But when is warfare in the service of God? Bernard is well aware that one can be deceived in this judgment by one’s own tendencies toward aggression. He writes the people of Genoa: If it pleases you to fight and try your courage and strength, if you would love to test your arms, by no means do so against your friends and neighbors. It would be far better for you to subdue the enemies of the Church and defend your realm against the siege and assault of the Sicilians. Over them you can prevail more sanely and more honestly, and possess what you gain with greater justice.20 One’s passion for war must be sublimated; sanity must prevail, a sanity which engages in violence only in the cause of justice, in defense of oneself and one’s realm. Only when fighting in the cause of justice can one be sure one’s warfare is in the service of God.Bernard writes Henry Ep 226.1; SBOp,VIII, 95; James, op. cit., p. 372. Ep 170.3; SBOp,VII, 384; James, op. cit., p. 259. 18 Ep 206; SBOp,VIII, 65; James, op. cit., p. 345. 19 Ep 377.1; SBOp,VIII, 340–341; James, op. cit., p. 475. 20 Ep 129.3; SBOp,VII, 324; James, op. cit., p. 201. 16 17 BY JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT 571 I of England: “. . . Justice is on our side. . . . By the justice of our cause we appease God; by the force of our arms we inspire fear in the enemy. . . .”21 Physical violence is not intrinsically evil; it is the rulers’ motivation that makes their warfare moral or immoral:“If it is never permissible for a Christian to strike with the sword, why did the Savior’s precursor bid soldiers to be content with their pay [see Luke 3:14] and not forbid them to follow this calling?”22 Armed with “. . . religious fervor and well-disciplined behavior, . . . our knights show they are animated by the same zeal for the house of God which of old inflamed their Leader himself when he armed his most holy hands, not indeed with a sword, but with a whip. . . .”23 Even in warfare the ruler should follow the example of the Lord whose flock he or she defends. In warfare, as in all of life’s other pursuits, proper motivation is the key to success, the success of salvation:“The knights of Christ may safely fight the battles of the Lord, fearing neither death if they smite the enemy nor danger at their own death, since to inflict death or to die for Christ is no sin but an abundant claim to glory.”24 For Bernard, to kill without reason is homicidium; to kill for good reason is malicidium, the killing of evil.25 Bernard knows well that much contemporary warfare is indeed homicidium, for it is not fought in the just cause of self-defense. He writes the duchess of Lotharingia: Through you I salute the duke and admonish him and you that, if you know this castle, for which you are making war, does not belong to your jurisdiction, then for God’s sake leave it alone. For Scripture says:“What will a man gain if he wins the whole world [Matthew 16:26],” loses himself,“and ruins his life [Mark 8:36].”26 Unjust warfare is not only injurious to the peace of the land; it threatens the well-being of the perpetrator before God. Ep 138; SBOp,VII, 334; James, op. cit., p. 209. Ad milites Templi de laude novae militiae [hereafter Tpl] 3.5; SBOp, III, 217–218. Translated by M. Conrad Greenia in The Works of Bernard of Clairvaux,Volume 7: Treatises III (“Cistercian Fathers” series [hereafter CF], Vol. 19 [Kalamazoo, Michigan, 1977]), p. 135. Although this and the following quotations are addressed to the Knights Templar, they are, I believe, applicable to all who follow the profession of arms. As Thomas Renna has written (op. cit., p. 126): “To live in the spirit of the crusade is within the reach of all knights.” 23 Tpl 5.9; SBOp, III, 222; CF,Vol. 19, p. 142. 24 Tpl 3.4; SBOp, III, 217; CF,Vol. 19, p. 134. 25 See Tpl 3.4; SBOp, III, 217; CF, Vol. 19, p. 134. I am indebted to Jean Leclercq (op. cit., p. 23) for the recognition of this play on words. 26 Ep 120; SBOp,VII, 301; James, op. cit., p. 184. 21 22 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 572 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT Some three years before Louis VII took the cross, Bernard had warned him of the consequences of unjust warfare: Do you not know how gravely you have offended [God] by forcing Count Theobald [of Champagne] to swear [an oath] against God and justice by the violence of your warfare against him. . . . Why do you add sin to sin [see Isaiah 30:1] in God’s presence and add, God forbid, to his anger at your behavior? How has Count Theobald sinned to merit the recurrence of your anger? Do not, I beg you, my lord king, resist so flagrantly your King—or, rather, the creator of all—in his kingdom and in his possessions. Do not raise your hand so frequently and boldly against the “terrible One, against him who takes away the spirit of princes, the terrible One in the sight of the kings of the earth [Psalm 75:12–13].”27 In another letter to Louis, Bernard continues: From whom but the devil could the counsel come, in response to which you add burnings to burnings, slaughter to slaughter? The cries of the poor [see Psalm 9:13], the sighs of the imprisoned [see Psalm 78:11], and the blood of the slaughtered echo once more in the ears of the “father of orphans and the judge of widows [Psalm 67:6].” Clearly, the ancient enemy of our race is delighted with this host [of victims] because “he was a murderer from the beginning [ John 8:44].”28 Bernard extends his condemnation of unjust warfare from Louis to all those who conduct it. In his treatise In Praise of the New Knighthood, he addresses the motivation for this crime, as well as the crime’s deleterious effects on the spiritual and psychological well-being of the perpetrator: What, then, is the end and fruit of this worldly knighthood—or, rather, knavery, as I should call it? . . . Above all, there is that terrible insecurity of conscience, despite all your armor, since you have dared to undertake such dangerous warfare on such slight and frivolous grounds. What else moves you to wars and disputes except irrational flashes of anger, the thirst for empty glory [see Galatians 5: 26], or the hankering after some earthly possession? It is surely not safe for reasons such as these.29 Warfare, then, can be just or unjust, depending on the rulers’ motivation and the cause for which they take up arms. But violence must be avoided whenever possible. Bernard rejoices with Empress Rinchera over his reconciliation of the Milanese with the emperor and the pope: “On this account I give thanks to the divine goodness who has thus humbled your enemies without any of the dangers of war or the shedEp 220.2; SBOp,VIII, 83; James, op. cit., pp. 363–364. Ep 221.1; SBOp,VIII, 84; James, op. cit., p. 364. 29 Tpl 2.3; SBOp, III, 216; CF,Vol. 19, pp. 132–133. 27 28 BY JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT 573 ding of human blood. . . .”30 Whenever possible, disputes should be settled by mediation rather than by force of arms, and Bernard sometimes agrees to serve as mediator. He writes to Jocelin, bishop of Soissons, and Suger, abbot of Saint Denis, of the quarrel between King Louis VII and Count Theobald of Champagne: They made a pact between them that, if any controversy or dissension should grow out of the matters on which they had agreed, neither of them would do, or try to do, any harm to the other until the matter should be aired and discussed before us three and the bishop of Auxerre.And thus we were made mediators, and, if any controversy should arise, we might be agents of reconciliation.31 As Jean Leclercq has written,Bernard “. . . knew that violence was a fact of life whose total abolition was not within his power; thus he tried to establish certain limits [to it] by imposing conditions as to its use and motivation.”32 Motivation is the key to both just and unjust warfare— and this key allows us to understand Bernard’s own motives in preaching the Second Crusade. To be sure, Bernard knows himself commissioned to preach a new crusade by Pope Eugenius III; he writes that pope: “I rushed into this not aimlessly but at your command, or, rather, through you at God’s command.”33 And the reason Bernard ascribes Eugenius’ command to the will of God is that Bernard sees the crusade as a response to an unjust invasion: “The Lord of heaven has begun to lose his land, . . . his land in which the voice of the turtle dove was heard [see Song of Songs 2:12] when the Son of the Virgin called all to a pure life. . . . This promised land evil men have begun to invade. . . .”34 The crusade is for Bernard a war of self-defense and, therefore, a war to be conducted in the cause of justice. The religion of the invaders is not Bernard’s central concern. The fact that the “evil men” who threaten the Holy Land are Muslims— or gentiles or pagans, as Bernard alternately calls them—is not a sufficient reason to resist them. Bernard writes to the German clergy and people: Ep 137; SBOp,VII, 333; James, op. cit., p. 207. Ep 222.4; SBOp,VIII, 88; James, op. cit., pp. 367–368. 32 Leclercq, op. cit., p. 36. 33 De consideratione [hereafter Csi] 2.1.1; SBOp, III, 411. Translated by John D. Anderson and Elizabeth T. Kennan in Five Books on Consideration: Advice to a Pope (CF, Vol. 37 [Kalamazoo, Michigan, 1976]), p. 49. 34 Ep 458.3; SBOp,VIII, 435; James, op. cit., p. 464. 30 31 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 574 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT If the gentiles were . . . subject [to the rule of justice] at some future time, then I judge we should be . . . patient with them rather than pursue them with swords. But, since they have instigated acts of violence against us, those who rightly bear the sword [see Romans 13:4] are obliged to drive back their forces. It is an act of Christian justice to vanquish the proud, as it is to spare the subjected. . . .35 To the knights of the Temple he writes in the same vein: I do not mean to say that the pagans are to be slaughtered if there is any other way to prevent them from harassing and persecuting the faithful. I mean only that it now seems better to strike them down than that the staff of sinners be lifted over the lot of the just [see Psalm 124:3]. . . .36 One should not kill Muslims because they are Muslims.37 But Bernard sees no option other than to engage in combat with these Muslims, since he sees them threatening both peace and justice.38 Bernard looks forward to the justice that will follow the restoration of peace in the Holy Land: . . . When the transgressors of the divine law have been driven out, a just people, holding fast to the truth, will securely enter [see Isaiah 26:2]. It is certainly right that the people who desire war should be scattered [see Psalm 67:31], that those who trouble us should be cut off [see Galatians 5:12], and that all the workers of iniquity should be dispersed [see Psalm Ep 363.7; SBOp,VIII, 316–317; James, op. cit., p. 463. Tpl 3.4; SBOp, III, 217; CF,Vol. 19, p. 135. 37 This moderate position seems flatly contradicted by Bernard’s letter to the crusaders about to attack the Wends, a Slavic people of central Europe. Bernard writes:“I forbid you to enter into a treaty with them—in any way or for any reason whatsoever: not for money, not for tribute, until, with God’s help, either their religious observances or their nation be destroyed” (Ep 457; SBOp, VIII, 433; James, op. cit., p. 467). Two factors explain and, perhaps, mitigate Bernard’s seeming severity. First, Bernard fears the Wends will attack the crusaders’ line of march to the East and thus “. . . close the road to Jerusalem. . . .” Only if the Wends unjustly attack those who have “. . . taken the sign of salvation . . .” should they, in turn, be attacked (Ep 457; SBOp, VIII, 433; James, op. cit., p. 467). Secondly,one must take account of Hans-Dietrich Kahl’s argument,based on a wide variety of sources, that the “destruction” of the Wends could be accomplished as well by baptism as by physical force, as Bernard saw it. See Kahl’s “Crusade Eschatology as Seen by St.Bernard in the Years 1146 to 1148,”in The Second Crusade and the Cistercians,p.37. 38 It is difficult to reconcile Bernard’s words, as quoted in this paragraph, with Eoin de Bhaldraithe’s assertion that “for Bernard the Muslims were infidels and were to be killed. . . .” See his “Jean Leclercq’s Attitude Toward War,” in The Joy of Learning and the Love of God: Studies in Honor of Jean Leclercq, edited by E. Rozanne Elder (SC,Vol. 160 [Kalamazoo, Michigan, and Spencer, Massachusetts, 1995]), p. 218. This entire article is characterized by moral outrage directed at Bernard’s position on warfare and at the empathic attempts of Leclercq to present and analyze it. 35 36 BY JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT 575 100:8]. . . . Arise now and shake off the dust, O virgin, O captive daughter of Zion [see Isaiah 52:2]. Arise, I say, and stand on high [see Baruch 5:5]; behold the joy which comes to you from your God [see Baruch 4:36]. “You will no longer be called the forsaken one; your land will no more be called desolate. For the Lord has been well pleased with you, and your land will be peopled [Isaiah 62:4].”“Lift up your eyes, look around you, and see: all these are gathered together and come to you [Isaiah 49:18].”This is the help sent to you from the Holy One [see Psalm 19:3].39 The restoration of peace and justice is a “good work.”40 It is an opportunity given by God, who could have accomplished the restoration himself but, rather, offers the task as a path to virtue to those who respond generously: Could he not send more than twelve legions of angels [see Matthew 26:53] or just say the word and free his land? Certainly he has the power to do this whenever he wishes. But, I tell you,“the Lord God is testing you [Deuteronomy 13:3].”He looks down on the children of mankind to see if there is anyone who understands, seeks [see Psalm 13:2], and sorrows with him. For God has mercy on his people and provides a remedy for those who have fallen away so gravely.41 As Thomas Renna has written: “. . . It is clearly the spiritual side of the [crusading] enterprise which most interested him [Bernard]. The Muslims seem almost secondary. Bernard interiorized the holy war.”42 But this holy war is not to be fought only to protect the peace and justice of the Holy Land. Bernard has two additional reasons for preaching the crusade.The first is that he hopes that the expedition to the East will also succeed in rescuing the Oriental Church from the Saracen threat. He writes Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny:“I expect that the heavy and miserable sighs of the Eastern Church have reached your ears and penetrated your heart. . . . If we steel our affections, if we pay little heed to this misfortune and feel little pain at this grief, where is our love for God, where is our love for our neighbor?”43 The same concern is obvious in a letter Bernard writes to Suger:“The Eastern Church now cries out in misery, so that whoever does not have complete compassion for her cannot be judged a true child of the Church.”44 Defense Tpl 3.5–6; SBOp, III, 218–219; CF,Vol. 19, pp. 135–136. Ep 350; SBOp,VIII, 294; James, op. cit., p. 357. 41 Ep 363.3; SBOp, VIII, 313; James, op. cit., p. 461. See also Ep 458.2; SBOp, VIII, 435; James, op. cit., pp. 463–464. 42 Renna, op. cit., p. 125. 43 Ep 364.1; SBOp,VIII, 318; James, op. cit., p. 469. 44 Ep 380; SBOp,VIII, 344; James, op. cit., p. 478. 39 40 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 576 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT of the Church in the East is a cause which justifies warfare on her behalf. The second of Bernard’s supplemental but essential reasons for the Crusade is of quite a different nature, but one completely compatible with his teaching on warfare. He writes to “. . . all the archbishops, bishops, clergy, and people of East Frankland and Bavaria . . .”: Your land is well known as rich in stout men and as filled with robust youths. For this you are praised throughout the world, and the fame of your virtue fills that world. Gird yourselves manfully [see 1 Maccabees 3:58] and take up arms with joy and zeal for your Christian name. Stop your former actions—better characterized as malicious than military—by which you try to cast one another down and destroy one another, that you might eat each other up [see Galatians 5:15]. Why this miserable,savage desire? The bodies of your neighbors are impaled on the sword; bodies and, perhaps, souls perish. . . . Stop what I see as madness not virtue, not daring but daftness. But now, O mighty soldier, O man fit for war [see 1 Kings 16:18], you have a place where you can fight without danger, where to win is glory “and to die is gain [Philippians 1:21].”45 Strange as it may seem to the modern observer, Bernard preaches the crusade in the cause of peace, the peace and tranquillity of a Europe which Bernard sees as bursting with the militant energies of all-toooften undiscriminating and badly motivated warriors. Bernard sends them off to the East in a cause which he considers just, and, by that action, he hopes that unjust warfare in the West will be diminished.46 Only the Crusade which thus serves society will win success. And that service must be conducted in a spirit of fidelity and obedience or it will surely fail—as did the Second Crusade which Bernard preaches. By way of explanation of that failure, Bernard points out what he claims Ep 363.5; SBOp,VIII, 314–315; James, op. cit., p. 462. Hans-Dietrich Kahl would add another reason for—or, perhaps, another dimension to—Bernard’s crusade preaching. Kahl sees that preaching as an expression of Bernard’s eschatological expectations. See “Crusade Eschatology” in The Second Crusade and the Cistercians, pp. 35–47.A fuller treatment of this theme can be found in Kahl’s “Die Kreuzzugseschatologie Bernhards von Clairvaux und ihre missionsgeschichtliche Auswirkung,” in Bernhard von Clairvaux und der Beginn der Moderne, edited by Dieter R. Bauer and Gotthard Fuchs (Innsbruck and Vienna, [1996]), pp. 262–315. Kahl bases his argument in part on Bernard McGinn’s article “Saint Bernard and Eschatology,” in Bernard of Clairvaux: Studies Presented to Dom Jean Leclercq (CS,Vol. 23 [Washington, D.C., 1973]), pp. 161–185. However, McGinn merely offers this eschatological explanation of Bernard’s preaching as a possibility.He states (on p.182) that some passages “. . . in Bernard’s works may suggest that there was an eschatological dimension to this attitude towards the Crusades.” Even if McGinn’s suggestion and Kahl’s assertion of this position are correct, I do not see that this negates Bernard’s self-declared motives. 45 46 BY JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT 577 the crusaders themselves acknowledge,that “. . . they were unbelieving and rebellious [see Numbers 20:10]”: . . . How could they advance when they were continually turning back whenever they set out? And when during the entire journey did they not return in their hearts to Egypt [see Exodus 16:3]? If the Israelites fell and perished because of their iniquity [see Psalm 72:19], are we astonished that today those who do the same thing suffer the same fate? But was the destruction of the Israelites contrary to the promises of God? Then neither is the destruction of our men. Indeed, the promises of God never impair the justice of God.47 Bernard is intent on interiorizing the whole crusading venture, from promising start to devastating conclusion. For him, success and failure must be measured in terms of motivation. Even military defeat suffered in fidelity and obedience to justice can be a moral victory.48 This moral victory will bring reward to the generous crusader. Bernard writes his uncle, Andrew, a knight of the Temple: Your battle is under the sun,but in the cause of him who sits above the sun. Here battling, there we may expect the reward. The reward for our battle is not on earth, is not from below:“Far from the uttermost coasts is her price [Proverbs 31:10].” Under the sun there is only poverty; above the sun is abundance. “A full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap [Luke 6:38].”49 To Andrew’s brother Knights Templar Bernard repeats his injunction to be virtuous in war, for even in death they can thereby win life: Go forth confidently, then, you knights, and repel the foes of Christ’s cross [see Philippians 3:18] with a stalwart heart. Know that neither death nor life can separate you from the love of God which is in Jesus Christ [see Romans 8:38–39], and in every peril repeat: “Whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s [Romans 14:8].” What a glory it is to return in victory from such a battle! How blessed it is to die there as a martyr! Rejoice, brave athlete, if you live and conquer in the Lord, but glory and exult still more if you die and join your Lord. Life is indeed fruitful, and victory glorious, but a holy death is more important than either. If “they are blessed who die in the Lord [Revelation 14:13],” how much more are they who die for the Lord!50 Csi 2.1.2; SBOp, III, 412; CF,Vol. 37, p. 49. See Csi 2.1.3; SBOp, III, 412; CF,Vol. 37, p. 50. 49 Ep 288.1; SBOp,VIII, 203–204; James, op. cit., p. 479. 50 Tpl 1.1; SBOp, III, 214–215; CF, Vol. 19, p. 130. See Giles Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century (Cambridge, England, 1996), p. 76. He writes:“The military orders represented one effort to institutionalize this ethos [of military saints and saintly knights], as did, on a broader scale, the crusades, which opened an almost automatic path to 47 48 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 578 THE BERNARDINE REFORM AND THE CRUSADING SPIRIT Bernard’s crusade preaching is thus part of a plan—a plan for the conversion of human hearts and for the reformation of the Church which nurtures them. Bernard believes that a true reformation of Church and society cannot be merely institutional; it can only come about through the spiritual conversion of individuals and their growth in virtue. But that interior growth will, he thinks, result in the reorientation of institutions, a re-formation which is necessary to justice. Bernard’s goal is the right ordering of society, so that its citizens will enjoy an environment in which they will be better able to pursue their common goal, the happiness of perfection in this life and the next. Justice, Bernard believes, must obtain throughout the world, both in the East and in the West. Thus—to return to Katzir’s observation—it is surely true that Bernard sees the Second Crusade as a major component of a new reform movement. heaven for those who took the cross humbly and penitently and who died fighting the enemies of Christianity.” THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J.* The long and complex relationship between Church and State in Western Christendom—both creative and destructive—is particularly well illustrated by examining the history of England, especially the relations between various English monarchs and the Church. More specifically, by focusing on the rise, the importance, and, especially, the fall of the cult of St. Thomas Becket from the twelfth century through the sixteenth century, we can gain some valuable insights into the complex series of events known as the English Reformation.1 From the late eleventh century onward, a process of centralization was underway in both Church and State. The Norman Conquest (1066) greatly accelerated this process of state building by the Anglo-Norman kings,and this same era witnessed the rising power and influence of the Papacy. In fact, it has been argued that papal influence in England was generally at its peak in the century and a half from the Conquest to the death of King John (1216).2 Yet, it was during the reign of John’s father, Henry II,3 that some of the most dramatic Church-State conflicts occurred. *Father Scully is an assistant professor of history in Le Moyne College, Syracuse, New York. He delivered an earlier version of this paper at the meeting of the New York State Association of European Historians in September, 1997. The author acknowledges with gratitude the helpful comments of James Hennesey, S.J., and William Telesca. 1 Among the varied interpretations of the English Reformation, see J. J. Scarisbrick, The Reformation and the English People (Oxford, 1984); A. G. Dickens, The English Reformation, 2nd edn. (University Park, Pennsylvania, 1989); Robert Whiting, The Blind Devotion of the People: Popular Religion and the English Reformation (Cambridge, England, 1989); Christopher Haigh, English Reformations: Religion, Politics, and Society under the Tudors (Oxford,1993);and Rosemary O’Day,The Debate on the English Reformation (London, 1986). 2 Charles Duggan,“From the Conquest to the Death of John,” in C. H. Lawrence (ed.), The English Church and the Papacy in the Middle Ages (New York, 1965), pp. 113–115. 3 See W. L. Warren, Henry II (Berkeley, California, 1973); Richard Barber, Henry Plantagenet: A Biography (New York, 1964). 579 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 580 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION Ironically, Henry assumed the English crown in the same year— 1154—as Nicholas Breakspear ascended the papal throne as Hadrian IV, the only English pope in history. It was, arguably, more than just a desire to extend church reforms throughout Europe that induced Hadrian to bestow upon Henry II the overlordship of Ireland.4 In the same period, Henry appointed his good friend, Thomas Becket, as Chancellor of England. Becket, in general, proved to be a staunch royalist, and it was during this period that the cause for the canonization of Edward the Confessor was brought to a successful completion.5 The new pope, Alexander III (1159–1181), desired to regularize the canonization process and bring it under papal control. Thus, in 1161 the pious English king, Edward the Confessor, was declared to be a saint, the first English saint to be formally canonized by a pope.6 In that same year the Archbishop of Canterbury, Theobald, died and the way was open for Henry to appoint his own man, Thomas Becket, as primate of the English Church. For his part, Thomas, evidently perceiving not just the opportunities but the potential perils of such a step, was somewhat reluctant to accept this exalted position. But in the end he accepted and was consecrated at Canterbury Cathedral in June, 1162.7 After assuming the office of Archbishop of Canterbury, Becket began to change; the prelate’s devotion to God and the Church became even more consuming than the chancellor’s devotion to the king and the State.8 Becket decided that he could no longer serve two masters and, therefore, he resigned the chancellorship, to the king’s great regret. The conflict heated up considerably in 1164 when Henry issued “The Constitutions of Clarendon,” which were said to contain “recognized customs and rights of the kingdom.”9 Among the sixteen articles were stipulations which: prevented clerics accused of crimes from circum4 See the bull Laudabiliter in David Douglas and George Greenway (eds.), English Historical Documents (London, 1953), II, 776–777. 5 Frank Barlow, Thomas Becket (Berkeley, California, 1986), pp. 41–63. 6 Ronald C. Finucane, Miracles and Pilgrims: Popular Beliefs in Medieval England (New York, 1995), p. 36. On the life and cult of Edward, see Frank Barlow (ed.), The Life of King Edward (London, 1962); and Frank Barlow, Edward the Confessor (Berkeley, California, 1970). 7 Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 64–73; Amy Kelly, Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Four Kings (New York, 1950), pp. 114–116. 8 Kelly goes so far as to say that Becket was “changed by a miracle of grace,” op. cit., p. 116. 9 “The Constitutions of Clarendon,” in Carl Stephenson and Frederick George Marcham (eds.), Sources of English Constitutional History (New York, 1972), I, 73–76. BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 581 venting the royal courts; prohibited clergy from leaving England without the king’s permission; and banned ecclesiastical appeals to the papal court “without the assent of the lord king.”10 Although Henry was within his rights on strictly historical grounds, Becket argued that custom had to give way when it conflicted with canon law and Holy Scripture.11 Although Becket had given way in the short run, he could not ultimately support the royal decrees because they, in effect, viewed the king as “the real head and master of the English church.”12 Relations between the king and the archbishop continued to deteriorate and in November, 1164, Becket fled England and spent six years in exile. Although Alexander III supported Becket with regard to the rights and independence of the Church, the pope was somewhat embarrassed by the archbishop’s undiplomatic zeal and the danger of a schism in the Church.13 Henry and Thomas finally achieved a partial reconciliation in 1170, but deeply rooted personal and ideological differences remained.Matters came to a head when Becket excommunicated a number of prelates who had supported the king. Henry raged against the ingratitude and contempt that he felt had been heaped upon him by Becket, and his unguarded words were taken to heart by four of his knights.14 The king’s men confronted the archbishop in Canterbury Cathedral on the evening of December 29, 1170. They called out, “Where is Thomas Becket, a traitor to the king and kingdom?”15 The four knights moved against the unarmed archbishop and struck him down. A witness reported his dying words:“For the name of Jesus and the protection of the church I am ready to embrace death.”16 Thus, the battle lines were drawn over the interpretation of Becket’s life and death. To his enemies he was a traitor who tempted death by trying to usurp royal authority and replace it with the dominance of the Church. To his admirers he was a man of great physical and spiritual courage who died a martyr while trying to protect the independence of the Church. In the aftermath of “the Becket affair,” Henry seemed genuinely distraught and tried to make some amends for his indirect role in the murIbid., I, 74–75 (Articles 3, 4, and 8). Duggan, op. cit., p. 89. 12 Barlow, Thomas Becket, p. 105. 13 Ibid., pp. 134–135, 143–144. 14 Ibid., pp. 225–233, 235. 15 Quoted in Barlow, Thomas Becket, p. 245. 16 Quoted ibid., p. 247. 10 11 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 582 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION der of his former friend and archbishop.17 But the king also had to restore his own somewhat damaged prestige. In the midst of a rebellion against him, Henry did public penance at Canterbury in 1174. Within days, a Scottish invasion and a rebellion in the north collapsed. Henry gave thanks to God as well as to “Saint Thomas the martyr, and all the saints of God.”18 The king’s rather dramatic reversal of fortune was attributed in the popular imagination, as well, to the intercession of Thomas.19 As a result of the archbishop’s murder, the Church secured the right to appeal to the Roman Curia in ecclesiastical cases and to apply canon law in England.20 At the same time, although Henry formally gave way on several issues, he still retained “the substance of power”; for example, there were no “Beckets” among the new episcopal appointees during the remainder of Henry’s reign.21 As for Becket himself, the extraordinary circumstances of his death guaranteed for him a fame and influence far greater than he had attained in life. In fact, the first recorded miracle associated with Thomas Becket occurred on the very night of his murder when a man from Canterbury restored his paralyzed wife with the martyr’s blood.22 During the early 1170’s the miracles seemed to increase both numerically and geographically. As a contemporary wrote, the miracles occurred at first “about his tomb, then through the whole crypt, then the whole church, then all of Canterbury, then England, then France, Normandy, Germany, [and the] whole world.”23 Even allowing for medieval hyperbole, hundreds of miracles came to be associated with the cult of Becket.24 Based on his heroic death (barely two years before), the issues for which he died, and the growing number of miracles, on February 21, Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 254–255; Kelly, op. cit., pp. 148–149. Quoted in Kelly, op. cit., p. 185; Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 269–270. 19 Kelly, op. cit., p. 189. 20 Duggan, op. cit., pp. 91–93; Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 261, 271. 21 Barlow, Thomas Becket, p. 273; Kelly, op. cit., p. 194. 22 Finucane, op. cit., p. 122. 23 Quoted in Finucane, op. cit., p. 123. 24 As to the number of miracles, Finucane says that there were 703 miracles reported during the very first decade, but this number may include considerable repetition since there were two registrars recording miracles at the shrine; see Finucane, op. cit., pp. 123, 125. According to Thomas, there were more than 500 miracles connected with Becket and his shrine; see Keith Thomas, Religion and the Decline of Magic (New York, 1971), p. 26. 17 18 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 583 1173, Pope Alexander III declared that Thomas Becket was a saint.25 In the bull of canonization, the pope emphasized “the public fame of his miracles,” but also referred to Thomas’s “glorious passion,” and said that he was to be “numbered in the roll of saintly martyrs.”26 As the cult of St.Thomas spread, Canterbury became one of the great pilgrimage destinations of England and Europe. In April, 1171, the saint’s tomb in the crypt had been opened to the public and many miraculous cures were reported.27 The prestige of this site was greatly enhanced by the visit of King Louis VII of France in 1179 to pray for the recovery of his son (the future Philip Augustus). This first visit by a French monarch to England, and its successful outcome, gave “the French monarchy’s seal of approval to Becket’s cult” and helped make Canterbury the main pilgrimage center in northwestern Christendom.28 Becket’s tomb also attracted the attention of numerous English monarchs over several centuries. In 1220, on the fiftieth anniversary of Becket’s death, the remains of the saint were transferred to a new shrine in the cathedral. There was a great public ceremony at which King Henry III was present.29 After the Jubilee of 1220 there were two feasts of St. Thomas celebrated each year: that of his death (December 29) and that of his “translation” ( July 7). On the feast of the translation in 1285, King Edward I and the entire royal family made a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas, where the king offered sumptuous gifts, including several images of pure gold. Edward’s special devotion to the cult and shrine of Becket was also demonstrated by substantial offerings made at Canterbury on additional visits in 1297 and 1300.30 25 Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 267–269. By contrast, it had taken Edward the Confessor almost a century to be canonized, and the revered St. Bernard of Clairvaux, twenty-one years. 26 Bull of Pope Alexander III (March 12, 1173), in English Historical Documents, II, 774–775. 27 John Butler, The Quest for Becket’s Bones: The Mystery of the Relics of St. Thomas Becket of Canterbury (New Haven, Connecticut, 1995), p. 14. 28 Barrie Dobson,“The Monks of Canterbury in the Later Middle Ages, 1220–1540,” in Patrick Collinson, Nigel Ramsay, and Margaret Sparks (eds.), A History of Canterbury Cathedral (Oxford, 1995), p. 140; Finucane, op. cit., p. 124; Kelly, op. cit., pp. 200–201. In the early thirteenth century, French students at the University of Paris chose Becket as their patron saint; see Barlow, Thomas Becket, p. 268. 29 Butler, op. cit., pp. 20, 23, 25. 30 A. J. Taylor, “Edward I and the Shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury,” Journal of the British Archaeological Association, CXXXII (1979), 22–28; Michael Prestwich, Edward I (New Haven, Connecticut, 1997), p. 112; Dobson, op. cit., 137. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 584 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION Although not even St. Thomas of Canterbury was immune from “the ebb and flow of fashion,” his shrine was generally unrivaled in England until its destruction in the sixteenth century.31 With regard to its social and geographical topography, at first the shrine attracted a disproportionate number of women and members of the lower class, but over time it increasingly attracted more men, more members of the upper class, and more pilgrims from throughout England and from overseas.32 The importance of the shrine in English consciousness is suggested by the title of the greatest work of English literature of the later Middle Ages: Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. As Chaucer wrote: “from every shire’s end/ In England, folks to Canterbury wend:/ To seek the blissful martyr is their will,/ The one who gave such help when they were ill.”33 This sentiment reflected Thomas’s reputation as the “best physician” and greatest healing saint in northwestern Europe.34 The power of this belief had clearly been demonstrated by the huge numbers of pilgrims and offerings that flowed into Canterbury in the terrible years of the Black Death in the late 1340’s. Whether praying for prevention or a cure, thousands of the faithful sought the intercession of St. Thomas.35 Although the continued popularity of Becket’s shrine was somewhat sporadic, during the Jubilee years it attracted large numbers of pilgrims.36 In the Jubilee of 1420, for example, more than 100,000 pilgrims flocked to Canterbury.37 As for the English monarchy, royal visits were generally frequent throughout the later Middle Ages; for example, Edward III normally made annual visits throughout his fifty-year reign, and the pious Henry VI often made several visits a year to St. Thomas’s shrine.38 Dobson, op. cit., pp. 135–136. Finucane, op. cit., pp. 125–126, 162–166. 33 Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, translated by Ronald Ecker and Eugene Crook (Palatka, Florida, 1993), p. 1; and see Geoffrey Chaucer, Canterbury Tales (New York, 1928), p. 149. 34 Finucane, op. cit., p. 67; Dobson, op. cit., p. 136. In fact, Becket became “the supreme national exemplar of the miracle-working Christian saint,” according to Dobson, ibid., p. 138. 35 Philip Ziegler, The Black Death (New York, 1969), pp. 162–163; Finucane, op. cit., p. 193. 36 Barbara Abou-El-Haj, The Medieval Cult of Saints: Formations and Transformations (Cambridge, England, 1997), p. 3. 37 Dobson, op. cit., p. 148. 38 Ibid., pp. 142–143. 31 32 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 585 Moreover, from about 1180, when the first known miniature of the martyrdom appeared,39 up to the eve of the destruction of the cult in the 1530’s, innumerable altars, chapels, statues, paintings, and stained-glass windows of St. Thomas were commissioned.40 Of the latter, probably the most beautiful were the series of stained-glass windows in Trinity Chapel, Canterbury Cathedral, depicting scenes from the life and miracles of the saint.41 In addition, more than eighty parish churches in England were dedicated to St.Thomas of Canterbury,more than to any other English saint, including the revered and much more ancient seventhcentury monk and bishop, St. Cuthbert of Durham.42 Overall, it is clear that as the Tudor dynasty began in 1485 with the reign of Henry VII,the cult and shrine of St.Thomas Becket had become an integral part of the religious, social, and political life of England. In the Yorkshire Rebellion of 1489, the rebels’ proclamation referred to issues that “Seynt Thomas of Cauntyrbery dyed for.”43 This suggests that “the name of Becket as a man who stood against the King had survived in popular folklore. . . .”44 During this same period, among what were probably many such associations, the Merchant Adventurers of London had a “fraternite of Seynt Thomas of Caunterbury.”45 The king also had a devotion to St. Thomas because in his will, Henry VII stipulated that a silver gilt statue of himself in a kneeling position was to be placed at the shrine.46 Upon Henry’s VII’s death in 1509, his seventeen-year-old son ascended the throne as Henry VIII. In the early years of his reign the new king was by all indications a traditional and fairly devout Catholic.47 For Butler, op. cit., pp. 6–7. Dobson, op. cit., p. 138. By the late twelfth century, a fresco of Becket’s martyrdom appeared as far away as Spoleto, Italy; see Butler, op. cit., p. 11. 41 For illustrations of these great art works,see Butler,op.cit.,pp.21,24;and Abou-El-Haj, op. cit., pp. 334, 363. 42 Dobson, op. cit., p. 138. 43 Quoted in Anthony Fletcher,Tudor Rebellions,3rd edn.(Burnt Mill,England,1983),p. 10. 44 Fletcher, op. cit., p. 10. 45 “Act Restricting Fees to be Charged by the Merchant Adventurers” (1497), in R. H. Tawney and Eileen Power (eds.), Tudor Economic Documents (London, 1924), II, 17. 46 Finucane, op. cit., p. 201; Dobson, op. cit., p. 137. In addition, among her many religious offerings, the queen, Elizabeth of York, made donations to the shrine of St.Thomas of Canterbury; see R. N. Swanson, Catholic England: Faith, Religion and Observance before the Reformation (Manchester, 1993), p. 195. 47 See J. J. Scarisbrick, Henry VIII (Berkeley, California, 1968). 39 40 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 586 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION one thing, he showed no sympathy for the Lollards, the followers of the late fourteenth-century cleric, John Wyclif. In general, the Lollards, like some English humanists, were opposed to pilgrimages and the veneration of images, and this may have prepared the ground for the “reformation”of images.48 The Lollards were also generally opposed to the cult of saints and considered Becket to be a traitor rather than a saint.49 This particular opinion would not remain heretical for much longer. Erasmus, the famous Christian humanist scholar, who visited the shrine of St. Thomas in 1512 with John Colet, Dean of St. Paul’s, expressed some skepticism and offense at the “astonishing quantity” of relics and the “showman” who presented them.50 Still, even though there was a relative decline, pilgrimages to Becket’s shrine continued into the Reformation, even to the very eve of its destruction. This process was a natural part of the “shifting loyalties” of the later Middle Ages, whereby some shrines declined in popularity and new ones rose to prominence for shorter or longer periods. Even so, St. Thomas’s shrine continued to remain in the first rank of holy sites and destinations in England.51 In fact, in 1520 Emperor Charles V went to Canterbury with King Henry VIII and visited the shrine.52 Yet, in that same year, Pope Leo X refused to grant a plenary indulgence for the Jubilee of 1520 unless half of the pilgrims’ offerings at Canterbury went toward the rebuilding of St. Peter’s in Rome.53 An unfortunate impasse occurred, a troublesome harbinger of the storm that was to break within the decade. Still, Henry continued for some time with the royal custom of making offerings at Becket’s shrine.54 In the summer of 1527 Cardinal Thomas Wolsey spent several days in Canterbury, “in which time there was the great Jubilee and a fair in 48 J. F. Davis,“Lollards, Reformers and St. Thomas of Canterbury,” University of Birmingham Historical Journal, 9 (1963), 2, 7–9; and see John Phillips, The Reformation of Images: Destruction of Art in England, 1535–1660 (Berkeley, California, 1973). 49 Davis, op. cit., pp. 1–15; Finucane, op. cit., pp. 210–211. 50 Quoted in Butler, op. cit., pp. 25–26, 31–32. 51 Finucane, op. cit., pp. 191–202; Joyce Youings, Sixteenth-Century England (Harmondsworth, England, 1984), p. 186. 52 Dobson, op. cit., p. 141; Scarisbrick, Henry VIII, pp. 75–76. In 1522, in celebration of Charles V’s entrance into London, the final pageant was a tableau of St. Thomas Becket; see Seymour Baker House,“Literature, Drama and Politics,” in Diarmaid MacCulloch (ed.), The Reign of Henry VIII: Politics, Policy and Piety (New York, 1995), p. 183. 53 Dobson, op. cit., pp. 149–150. 54 Finucane, op. cit., p. 194. BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 587 honor of the feast of St. Thomas, their patron.”55 But Wolsey’s time was nearing its end, and his failure in the king’s “great matter” of the divorce from Catherine of Aragon brought abut the Cardinal’s downfall in 1529, as the rift between England and Rome began to grow ever wider. The Archbishop of Canterbury, William Warham, had largely acquiesced to Henry VIII’s ecclesiastical policies. But in his final years, Archbishop Warham belatedly developed some of the courage of his great predecessor. He was accused of consecrating a bishop without prior royal approval and of thereby violating the statute against Praemunire.56 In a burst of bravado, Warham wrote:“It were indeed as good to have no spirituality as to have it at the prince’s pleasure. . . . And if in my case, my lords,you think to draw your swords and hew me in small pieces . . . I think it more better for me to suffer the same than against my conscience to confess this article to be a praemunire, for which St. Thomas died.”57 This dramatic invocation of Becket, under these circumstances, could not have pleased Henry VIII. Still, Warham continued to oppose certain actions of the king and he specifically drew upon the life and letters of St. Thomas for support.58 But it was too little, too late, and Warham’s death in August, 1532, cleared the way for Henry to appoint his own man, Thomas Cranmer, as the new Archbishop of Canterbury. In that same year, the king’s Lord Chancellor, Thomas More, resigned his office in an implicit protest against the mounting war on the independence of the Church. The parallels with the twelfth century were rather striking: a king named Henry had appointed a gifted civil servant and friend named Thomas to high office expecting full support. But consciences intervened, strained the relationships beyond the breaking point, and ended in violent deaths for both Thomases. Becket’s death in 1170 had won a partial victory for the Church; could More’s death in 1535 do the same? In any event, the similarities were not lost on per- 55 George Cavendish,“The Life and Death of Cardinal Wolsey,” in Richard Sylvester and Davis Harding (eds.), Two Early Tudor Lives (New Haven, Connecticut, 1962), p. 48; Dobson, op. cit., pp. 149–150. 56 Praemunire has been defined as “the criminal offense of introducing into England a foreign or papal jurisdiction which might limit royal authority,” in Susan Doran and Christopher Durston,Princes, Pastors and People: The Church and Religion in England, 1529–1689 (London, 1991), p. 202. 57 Quoted in F. R. H. Du Boulay,“The Fifteenth Century,”in C. H. Lawrence (ed.), The English Church and the Papacy in the Middle Ages (New York, 1965), pp. 241–242; O’Day, op. cit., p. 13. 58 Geoffrey de C. Parmiter, The King’s Great Matter: A Study of Anglo-Papal Relations, 1527–1534 (New York, 1967), pp. 194–197. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 588 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION ceptive contemporaries, and Becket’s “conflict with Henry II [was] regarded as prefiguring the crisis of the Henrician Reformation.”59 Already, by 1533, diplomatic relations between Henry and Pope Clement VII (1523–1534) had been severed.60 With a temporarily suspended sentence of excommunication hanging over his head, Henry played a classic trump card and appealed his case to a General Council.61 Nevertheless, in 1534 the Reformation Parliament passed the Act of Supremacy,which declared that the king was “the only supreme head in earth of the Church of England.”62 The bond which had existed between England and the Papacy for almost a thousand years had been broken. The next major move by the king and his Vice-Gerent, Thomas Cromwell, was against the monasteries and religious houses. In 1536 the monasteries began to be dissolved, with a huge windfall going to the crown.63 That October witnessed the beginning of the Pilgrimage of Grace, the most dangerous of all Tudor rebellions because at its peak it contained a well disciplined army of 30,000 “pilgrims.”64 Various economic and political grievances combined with religious concerns, including changes regarding the pope, saints, relics, and the sacraments.65 There was also concern, expressed in the first of “The Pilgrim’s Articles,” over the “suppression of so many religiouse howses. . . .”66 After a truce and promised pardon, the uprising ended in March, 1537, but the promise was broken and many people were executed.67 An important consequence of the revolt was that,“thanks to the pilgrimage of Dickens, op. cit., p. 162. Ludwig Pastor, The History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages (St. Louis, 1910), XII, 456. 61 Parmiter, op. cit., pp. 252–254. 62 “An Act Concerning the King’s Highness to be Supreme Head of the Church of England,” in G. R. Elton (ed.), The Tudor Constitution, 2nd edn. (Cambridge, England, 1982), pp. 364–365. 63 See W. G. Hoskins, The Age of Plunder: The England of Henry VIII, 1500–1547 (London, 1976), esp. chap. 6; Pastor, op. cit., XII, 463–464. 64 Fletcher, op. cit., p. 23. 65 Ibid., pp. 28–36; Michael Bush, The Pilgrimage of Grace: A Study of the Rebel Armies of October 1536 (Manchester, England, 1996), pp. 1–7, 410–414. 66 “The York Articles, 1536,”in Fletcher, op. cit., pp. 105–106. Even so, only about sixteen of the fifty-five suppressed monasteries were restored during the Pilgrimage of Grace; see Fletcher, ibid., p. 30. 67 “Pardoning Pilgrimage of Grace” and “Pardoning Bigod’s Rebellion,” in Paul Hughes and James Larkin (eds.), Tudor Royal Proclamations (New Haven, Connecticut, 1964), I, 246–247, 256–258; Fletcher, op. cit., p. 37. 59 60 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 589 grace, the English Reformation became a complicated and drawn-out process.”68 One such area was with regard to the veneration of saints and the use of images. The early English Reformation did not give rise to widespread iconoclasm, although some did occur.“The Ten Articles”of 1536 expressed concern over “abuses,” especially “idolatry,” but condoned a proper use of images and honoring of saints.69 Yet, in the same year, in Cromwell’s “Injunctions to the Clergy,” concerns were expressed regarding the extolling of “images, relics, or miracles for any superstition or lucre,” and pilgrimages to saints’ shrines were discouraged.70 This appears to reflect the government’s distinction between admissible images and those that were deemed “inadmissible” because they were associated with miraculous powers and supposed idolatry.71 It was only a matter of time before the focus of the king and the reformers shifted to the most famous shrine in England, and the one most laden with political and religious ideals antithetical to the Henrician church.The king’s own attitude toward Becket was increasingly hostile. In 1533 Henry had gone to Canterbury but did not visit the shrine, evidently convinced that it was both a religious and political danger.72 He was undoubtedly encouraged in this regard by Cromwell, who was in many ways,“the driving force behind the Reformation in the 1530s.”73 The centerpiece of Cromwell’s program was the royal supremacy, and few figures in English history seemed to stand more against it than Thomas Becket. Therefore, Becket had to be destroyed—and this time for good. The great impact on the early English Reformation of Thomas Cranmer goes without saying.74 When he became Archbishop of Canterbury in 1533, he changed the archbishop’s coat of arms, probably to remove Bush, op. cit., p. 416. “The Ten Articles, 1536,” in C. H. Williams (ed.), English Historical Documents (New York, 1967),V, 795–805, esp. 802–804. 70 “Cromwell’s First Injunctions, 1536,” in English Historical Documents, V, 805–808, esp. 806. 71 Margaret Aston,“Iconoclasm in England: Official and Clandestine,” in Peter Marshall (ed.), The Impact of the English Reformation: 1500–1640 (London, 1997), p. 177. 72 Dobson, op. cit., p. 150. 73 John Guy, Tudor England (Oxford, 1988), pp. 179–181. 74 Horton Davies has even called Cranmer “the virtual founder of the Church of England,” in Worship and Theology in England: From Cranmer to Hooker, 1534–1603 (Princeton, 1970), I, xv. 68 69 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 590 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION the association with Becket.75 He began to push for the abolition of certain holy days and, to provide a personal example, around late 1536 Cranmer ignored the fast on the eve of a feast of St. Thomas Becket and thereby “caused a sensation in Canterbury.”76 Although Cranmer was not heavily involved in the iconoclastic movement of the 1530’s, he did play a role in the destruction of Becket’s shrine.77 As for the Becket cult, it was still fairly popular. To cite just two examples from 1530: at Yatton in Somerset a tabernacle was carved for Becket’s image, and at Ashburton in the West Country a new image of St. Thomas was dedicated in the church.78 In 1535 during a visit to Canterbury by one of Cromwell’s commissioners, a fire broke out which threatened the cathedral. The damage was limited but in a letter to Cromwell, Commissioner Richard Layton described the measures he had taken to protect “the shrine of St. Thomas Becket” and its many “jewels.”79 This hints at the fact that “Becket’s golden, bejewelled memorial . . . was one of the greatest concentrations of portable wealth in England.”80 Here was one more tempting reason to dismantle the shrine. With regard to the destruction of images and shrines, it is difficult to discern a specific and consistent “government policy.”81 But, contrary to the general trend in Europe, much of the iconoclasm during Henry VIII’s reign was “inspired from above rather than from below.”82 At the same time, official iconoclastic policies were “dangerously ambiguous,” both as to the targets and the extent of permissible destruction.83 Officially sanctioned iconoclasm began in 1535 with the destruction of relics, but the attack expanded in scope over the next several years. Among the more famous shrines in England was that of St. Cuthbert in the cathedral at Durham.Although offerings there had dropped from the late fourteenth to the late fifteenth century,84 it remained an important cult center. In 1537, however, the ancient shrine was dismantled. Yet, rather remarkably, the bones of the saint were evidently secreted 75 Diarmaid MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer: A Life (New Haven, Connecticut, 1996), pp. 9–11. 76 Ibid., p. 198. 77 Guy, op. cit., p. 181. 78 Haigh, op. cit., p. 31; Whiting, op. cit., pp. 49–50. 79 Quoted in Butler, op. cit., pp. 111–112, 114. 80 Finucane, op. cit., p. 29. For an artist’s impression of the shrine prior to its destruction in 1538, see Butler, op. cit., p. 26. 81 Finucane, op. cit., p. 203. 82 Richard Rex, Henry VIII and the English Reformation (New York, 1993), pp. 96–97. 83 Aston, op. cit., p. 179. 84 Finucane, op. cit., p. 193. BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 591 away, kept safe, and reinterred in 1542.85 Perhaps both the antiquity of Cuthbert’s cult and Durham’s considerable distance from London conspired in the saint’s favor. On the wider stage, the Royal Commissioners for the Destruction of Shrines had embarked upon the widespread “pillage”of the treasures of the shrines and cathedrals of England.86 In fact, in 1538 the peak of destruction was unleashed against various shrines,87 especially Becket’s shrine at Canterbury, but also including the widely revered shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. From about 1400 onward, the Virgin of Walsingham had joined St. Thomas Becket as one of the two most famous cults in England. Yet, in spite of—or perhaps because of—its fame and popularity, Walsingham became a primary target of the Lollards, some of whom disparaged the shrine, calling it “falsingham.” At least some of their skepticism was evidently justifiable, considering that the most remarkable of the Marian relics was said to be the Virgin’s “milk.”88 Nevertheless, Walsingham was still thriving in the early sixteenth century and continued to attract many famous pilgrims, among whom were Henry VII, Erasmus, Catherine of Aragon, and Henry VIII. The latter had once “walked bare-footed to the shrine” from some distance, and he made the offerings for “the King’s candle” which burned perpetually at the shrine.89 The royal candle was still burning before Our Lady of Walsingham in March, 1538, but in that fateful year for so many shrines, a dramatic and more destructive shift in policy occurred. In July, the shrine at Walsingham was dismantled and the famous statue of the Virgin was sent to London. On July 18, 1538, John Husee, a servant, wrote the following to Lord Lisle:“This day our late lady of Walsingham was brought to Lambeth, where was both my Lord Chancellor and my Lord Privy Seal, with many virtuous prelates, but there was offered neither [penny] nor candle. What shall become of her is not determined.”90 This perceived indecision did not last long. Before the month had ended the Virgin of Walsingham and a number of other images were publicly burned at 85 Butler, op. cit., pp. 71–73. On the life and cult of St. Cuthbert, see Bertram Colgrave (ed.), Two Lives of Saint Cuthbert (Cambridge, England, 1940); Charles Eyre, Archbishop of Glasgow, The History of St. Cuthbert, 3rd edn. (London, 1887); and Abou-El-Haj, op. cit., pp. 51–59, 362. 86 Butler, op. cit., p. 32. 87 Finucane, op. cit., pp. 204–205. 88 Ibid., pp. 121, 196–202. 89 Muriel St. Clare Byrne (ed.), The Lisle Letters (Chicago, 1981), I, 158–160. 90 Letter of John Husee to Lord Lisle, ibid.,V, 183–184. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 592 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION Chelsea at the direction of Cromwell, who gave the justification that, “the people should use noe more idolatrye unto them.”91 Although it is by no means always clear, this suggests that Cromwell’s and Henry’s religious policies, especially regarding the rejection of many traditional Catholic beliefs and practices, were not always the same in either their motivations or intended consequences. There was one policy, however, on which the king and his minister were increasingly in agreement: the destruction of the cult and shrine of Thomas Becket. Already, in 1536, the feast of Becket’s translation ( July 7) had been abolished and, in the following year, the image of St. Thomas’s martyrdom was stricken from the seal of the city of Canterbury.92 There were particular reasons, it would seem, why Canterbury’s shrine was specially targeted for destruction. Due to his struggle with Henry II and his dramatic death, Becket had come to be regarded by many as “the victim of a harsh government” and as “a popular hero.”93 Henry VIII, on the other hand, had come to detest Becket,“whose cult represented the triumph of the Western Church over a king of England. . . .”94 Since Henry had triumphed over the pope as the head of the Church of England, he was determined to triumph over the archbishop who had humbled a king of England. Moreover, since Becket’s “defining characteristic was his defence of the freedom of the Church against an encroaching State,”95 his shrine symbolized a now rejected past and was an affront to Henry’s national church. With these factors in mind, it may appear surprising that Henry had not taken steps to destroy the shrine and cult of St. Thomas earlier. It is quite possible that he delayed taking so drastic a step because of the outbreak of the “Pilgrimage of Grace” in late 1536, as well as concerns over a possible invasion of England by one or both of the great Catholic powers: the Spanish Habsburg Empire and France. But the domestic threat had been put down and the foreign threat was sufficiently distant so long as Charles V and Francis I remained at odds and often at war with each other.96 Quoted in Aston, op. cit., p. 171. Finucane, op. cit., p. 211. 93 Barlow, Thomas Becket, p. 267. 94 MacCulloch, op. cit., p. 227. 95 Margaret Gibson, “Normans and Angevins, 1070–1220,” in Collinson, Ramsay, and Sparks (eds.), op. cit., p. 63. 96 Although Charles and Francis signed a truce in 1538, it did not last long, as Henry correctly suspected, and the threat of a Catholic crusade against him receded evermore. 91 92 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 593 In late summer 1538, Henry made a visit to Kent, where he inspected the defenses at Dover, entertained yet another prospective bride (Madame de Montreuil), and went to Canterbury. On her visit to Becket’s shrine only a few days earlier, Madame de Montreuil had refused to show the traditional reverence when Prior Goldwell performed the solemn exposition of the head of St. Thomas. Was this a manifestation of her own religious sensibilities, or was she performing for her royal suitor? And what of Henry’s motivations? It seems likely that, at Cromwell’s instigation, Henry had decided to be present in Canterbury for the destruction of the shrine of his ideological nemesis.97 Cromwell had drawn up a draft for a second set of Royal Injunctions which was sent to the king at Canterbury in early September. The injunctions spoke disparagingly of “pilgrimages,” linked them with “that most detestable sin of idolatry,” and ordered their termination.98 A few new items further curtailed devotion to the saints and commanded that from henceforth, “the Commemoration of Thomas Becket, sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, . . . shall be clean omitted. . . .”99 This attack on the feast of St. Thomas of Canterbury set the stage for the even more dramatic destruction of his shrine, a process that took place over several days in early September, 1538, as we know from a letter sent by John Husee to Lady Lisle. Referring to Sir Richard Pollard, a commissioner who supervised the dismantling of the shrine, Husee noted satirically that, “Mr. Pollard . . . hath been so busied, both night and day, in prayer, with offering unto St. Thomas’ shrine and head, with other dead relics,that he could have no idle worldly time”for other matters.100 Two days later Husee wrote again to his lady concerning the ongoing destruction: “Mr. Pollard hath so much ado with St. Thomas’ shrine, . . . but I trust when he hath prayed and received the offering and relics he will be at leisure.”101 Thus, this “holy of holies” was destroyed and its treasures of three and a half centuries were packed into so many chests that they filled twenty-six carts.102 As to the fate of Becket’s bones, Pope Paul III MacCulloch, op. cit., pp. 226–228; Butler, op. cit., pp. 65–66. “The Second Royal Injunctions of Henry VIII, 1538,” in English Historical Documents,V, 811–814. 99 Ibid., p. 814; MacCulloch, op. cit., pp. 226–227. 100 Letter of John Husee to Lady Lisle (September 8, 1538), in Byrne (ed.), op. cit., V, 210–211. Pollard was surveyor general and sheriff of Devonshire. 101 Ibid.,V, 212–213. 102 Patrick Collinson,“The Protestant Cathedral, 1541–1660,” in Collinson, Ramsay, and Sparks (eds.), op. cit., p. 154. 97 98 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 594 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION charged that Henry “had commanded the body of St. Thomas of Canterbury to be burnt and the ashes scattered to the wind.”103 Based on an extensive study of the issue, however, John Butler has concluded that there is no decisive evidence as to whether Becket’s bones were burnt or buried elsewhere.104 Coinciding with the destruction of the shrine, a play was performed for the king and his court at Archbishop Cranmer’s house in Canterbury,probably on the evening of September 7.The author was the evangelical playwright and protégé of Cromwell, John Bale, and it seems to have been a production of his now lost work,“Against the Treasons of Thomas a Becket.”105 Thus, in a particularly dramatic way, art was imitating life, as the destruction of Becket’s shrine and reputation proceeded apace. While the injunctions of 1538 and the destruction of Becket’s shrine were “a significant high-water mark”for the evangelical wing within the Henrician church,106 they fostered a strong reaction at home and, especially, abroad. Only a month after the destruction of the shrine, Thomas Knight, an official in Brussels, wrote to Cromwell:“Every man that hearkens for news out of England asks what is become of the saint of Canterbury.”107 In a letter to Charles V, Reginald Pole expressed his outrage at the “ungodliness Henry has exhibited upon the tomb and body of St. Thomas.” He discussed the “sacrilege” of the plundering of the shrine and its relics and concluded,“has anyone ever read of such an example of barbarity?”108 On the other hand, Luther’s theological ally, Philipp Melanchthon, wrote approvingly to a colleague that,“the monument of Thomas of Canterbury [in England] has been destroyed.”109 But the destruction of the shrine was only the first step in the desanctification (if not obliteration) of Thomas Becket. Cranmer ordered 103 Quoted in Butler,op.cit.,p.119.This charge was made at a consistory in Rome on October 25, 1538. 104 Butler, op. cit., esp. pp. 133, 160–161. 105 House, op. cit., p. 189. Later that year, quite possibly on the feast of Becket’s martyrdom (December 29), Bale’s play, King John, was performed: a decidedly antipapal and proroyal bit of theatrical propaganda; see ibid., p. 190. 106 MacCulloch, op. cit., p. 235. 107 Quoted in House, op. cit., p. 189. 108 Letter of February, 1539, quoted in Butler, op. cit., p. 121. Interestingly, at Wolsey’s death in 1530, Henry had offered Pole the Archbishopric of York, but Pole told the king that, with regard to the issue of the divorce from Catherine, the pope’s decision was law; see Pastor, op. cit., XI, 163. 109 Quoted in Finucane, op. cit., p. 212. BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 595 the removal of the iconography of the martyrdom of Becket from Canterbury’s archdiocesan seals. The image on the official seal of the archdiocese was replaced with that of the crucifixion, and another version of Becket’s martyrdom on the prerogative court seal was replaced by the scourging of Christ.110 Thus, Becket was eliminated, the king was supported, and the opposition was hamstrung since it was difficult to oppose the new, decidedly Christocentric, representations. A further step was taken on November 16, 1538, when a proclamation was jointly issued by the king and Cromwell. Henry VIII was referred to as “a godly and a Catholic prince,” but also as “lawfully sovereign, chief, and supreme head in earth immediately under Christ” of the Church of England.111 The proclamation contained a resounding denunciation of the Becket cult.It contrasted the actions of Henry VIII’s “most noble progenitor, King Henry II,” with the “usurped authority” claimed by Thomas Becket. Responsibility for the famous struggle in the cathedral was placed squarely on Becket, and his death,“which they untruly called martyrdom,” was presented as a fitting end for “a rebel and traitor to his prince.” Therefore, the proclamation concluded, “Thomas Becket shall not be esteemed, named, reputed, nor called a saint,” and “his images and pictures through the whole realm shall be put down and avoided out of all churches, chapels, and other places. . . .”In addition,“the days used to be festival in his name shall not be observed, nor the service, office, antiphons, collects, and prayers in his name read, but erased and put out of all the books. . . .” These actions were justified on spiritual grounds, namely, that “his grace’s loving subjects shall be no longer blindly led and abused to commit idolatry as they have done in times past. . . .”112 Thus, the rewriting of certain aspects of English history,113 and the final assault on the cult of Becket were underway. A rather bizarre example of these developments was the account put forth toward the end of 1538 of a fictitious “trial” in April of that year in which Becket had been summoned to answer for his alleged crimes. Since neither the defendant nor his attorney had made an appearance in court, judgment 110 MacCulloch, op. cit., p. 228; and see illustrations of the old and new seals, pp. 229–230. 111 “Prohibiting Unlicensed Printing of Scripture,Exiling Anabaptists,Depriving Married Clergy, Removing St. Thomas a Becket from Calendar,” in Tudor Royal Proclamations, I, 270–276, esp. 272, 270. 112 Ibid., pp. 275–276. 113 Rex, op. cit., pp. 26–28. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 596 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION was entered against him in August as a traitor. Thus, retroactive justification was provided for the destruction of Becket’s shrine and cult.114 In addition, Anglo-papal relations were being viewed through new historical lenses. On December 17, 1538, Henry VIII, the “Defender of the Faith,” was finally excommunicated by Pope Paul III. Among the reasons given in the papal bull were the unjustified executions and desecrations that had been ordered by the king,with special reference made to the destruction of the shrine of St.Thomas of Canterbury and the callous treatment of his remains.115 For its part, Henry’s government was determined to rid itself of both Becket and the Papacy. In light of the newly enunciated royal supremacy,“the role of the papacy in English history was either written out or written off.”116 A good example is provided by the historian and playwright, John Bale, who argued that the early and “pure” English church had been corrupted by Rome. Moreover, he spoke of two classes of martyrs: legitimate ones who had died for Christ (such as St. Alban), and illegitimate ones who had died for the pope (such as Thomas Becket).117 At the same time, the cult of monarchy was actively encouraged by the government and was said to be based on biblical models.118 Thus, in addition to strengthening the image and power of the king,the cult of monarchy was promoted so as to replace the cult of the saints. To reinforce the proclamation of November, 1538, Cromwell (in December) sent a circular letter to the bishops mandating an end to any and all veneration of Becket.119 Around the same time, Henry sent a letter to the Justices of the Peace which listed various “detestable and unlawful liberties” that Becket “most arrogantly desired and traitorously sued, to have, contrary to the laws of this our realm.”120 In the general plan of attack, Becket’s actions were depicted as having been contrary to both divine and human law, and against both biblical and historical precedents. The government’s campaign against the cult and iconography of Becket proceeded, but with somewhat mixed results. Many of the imFinucane, op. cit., pp. 211–212. Pastor, op. cit., XII, 456–477, esp. 468–469; Butler, op. cit., pp. 119–120. 116 Rex, op. cit., p. 27. 117 F. J. Levy, Tudor Historical Thought (San Marino, California, 1967), pp. 89–97. 118 Rex, op. cit., pp. 28–29. 119 Finucane, op. cit., p. 211. 120 Quoted in Levy, op. cit., p. 86. 114 115 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 597 ages of Becket were covered over or destroyed, and his name was removed from many liturgical books.At Barnstaple in Devon,for example, a chapel that had been dedicated to St.Thomas of Canterbury was “profaned” around 1540, and a screen depicting Becket’s image at a church in Norfolk was heavily defaced.121 Some of the iconoclasm was done quite openly and aroused little public opposition. In the southwest, for example, the general response to the official anti-Becket campaign was largely “acquiescent,” as with the mural at Breage which was simply whitewashed away.122 Yet, many people clearly opposed the iconoclasm, and much of it was done “quietly” or “secretly” and was accompanied by an extensive propaganda campaign.123 Even so, devotion to St. Thomas continued in various parts of England, though it was now done more surreptitiously. By means of slight alterations, many of the images of, or references to, Becket were “transposed” into more acceptable forms. Thus, in many places the proscribed names of the pope and Becket were “erased” by placing lightly glued strips of paper over them or by drawing the faintest of lines through them. At a parish in Ashford, by replacing an archiepiscopal cross with a wool-comb, an image of Becket was transformed into St. Blaise; even more creatively, a wall painting of the martyrdom of Becket at a parish in Suffolk was transposed into the martyrdom of St. Katherine.124 A name change could also do the trick. In the early 1540’s at Ashburton, a chapel and a guild, both of which had been dedicated to St. Thomas (Becket), were rededicated to St. Thomas (the Apostle).125 Still, time and resources were on the side of the government. In May, 1540, the religious houses of Canterbury Cathedral and Canterbury College, Oxford, were dissolved.126 At the Convocation of 1542, Archbishop Cranmer called for a stricter observance of the mandates of the 1530’s regarding the obliteration of the names of the pope and Becket from all liturgical books.127 In 1546, in order to bring physical and symbolic clo121 Robert Whiting, “Local Responses to the Henrician Reformation,” in Diarmaid MacCulloch (ed.), The Reign of Henry VIII (New York, 1995), p. 211; Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England, 1400–1580 (New Haven, Connecticut, 1992), plate 131. The screen had been newly completed in the mid-1530’s. 122 Whiting, Blind Devotion of the People, p. 116. 123 Finucane, op. cit., pp. 205–207. This was true abroad as well. At the end of 1538 one of Henry’s diplomats in Brussels justified the iconoclasm by saying that the king was only acting against religious abuses, such as those found at Becket’s shrine; see ibid., p. 209. 124 Duffy, op. cit., pp. 418–420 and plate 132. 125 Whiting, Blind Devotion of the People, p. 116; Haigh, op. cit., p. 158. 126 Dobson, op. cit., p. 153. 127 MacCulloch, Cranmer, pp. 289–290. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 598 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION sure to the cult of Canterbury’s ex-saint, the eastern crypt of the cathedral (Becket’s original burial site) was walled off.128 The iconoclasts had not gotten everything, but they did their job well. It has been estimated that, of the paintings of Becket in Britain and Ireland before the “anathematization” of 1538, only about one-sixteenth survived.129 The question remains: what was the primary motivation that drove Henry VIII to destroy the shrine, the cult, and the memory of Thomas Becket? He maintained that it was to end “idolatry” and foster religious reform.130 But as one of his leading biographers has pointed out,“if there is any single thread to [Henry’s] theological evolution, it is his anticlericalism.”131 The thought that any person, from peasant to archbishop, could thwart the will of the king as supreme head of the Church of England was increasingly anathema to him. Therefore, he was particularly incensed that an English subject had humbled a king of England and had been canonized for his troubles.132 Moreover, Henry had not ordered all English shrines to be destroyed.The shrine of Edward the Confessor at Westminster Abbey was a potent symbol of royal power and the cult of monarchy. Even though it was decorated with images and covered with gold and precious stones, Henry did not want it destroyed. He had the ornaments and relics removed, but the shrine itself was kept intact.133 The saintly archbishop’s shrine was utterly destroyed, whereas the saintly king’s shrine was allowed to stand as a testament to the cult of monarchy. This would seem to be solid evidence that, while religious and economic factors certainly came into play,the driving force behind Henry’s determination to destroy Becket’s cult and shrine was political. This is also supported by the fact that Becket was condemned, not for essentially religious reasons, but on the grounds that he had been a “rebel” and a “traitor.”134 The determined archbishop may have triumphed through his death over Henry II, but he was not going to triumph Butler, op. cit., p. 76. Phillips, op. cit., p. 71 n. 84; Rex, op. cit., p. 2. 130 Tudor Royal Proclamations, I, 276. 131 Scarisbrick, Henry VIII, p. 417. 132 As an example, there was a scene in a stained-glass window from the fifteenth century in a church in Oxfordshire showing Henry II doing penance; see Tom Corfe, Archbishop Thomas and King Henry II (Cambridge, England, 1975), p. 47. It was such scenes that undoubtedly made Henry VIII’s blood boil. 133 Phillips, op. cit., p. 72. 134 Tudor Royal Proclamations, I, 276. 128 129 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 599 through his cult over Henry VIII.135 Therefore, the destruction of the Becket cult and shrine appears to be at the heart of Henry’s personal— and often political and ideological—approach to the English Reformation. This view of Thomas Becket as a traitor rather than a saint became an essential part of the historiography of the English Reformation, even after the death of Henry VIII. During the brief reign of Edward VI (1547–1553), a primer and a catechism were issued which expressed a strongly evangelical Protestant viewpoint. In the primer, the notation of the feast day of Thomas Becket was replaced with the words:“Becket traitor.”136 When Henry’s daughter Mary came to the throne (1553–1558), she restored Catholicism as the official religion of England.137 Nicholas Harpsfield, Archdeacon of Canterbury during this period, wrote about the terrible treatment of St. Thomas Becket at the hands of the reformers, saying that they had “unshrined and unsainted him,” and had made him “a traitor to the king.”138 In partial recompense, under Mary, Becket’s liturgy and his “pageant” at Canterbury were restored in 1555, but not his shrine.139 Just as Mary did not push for the restoration of the monasteries,so too with Becket’s shrine.She seemed content with the revived liturgy and pageant,140 and, perhaps wisely, did not stir up the troubled political and religious waters in which Becket’s shrine had been immersed. Even so, the saint continued to hold a special place in more than a few hearts. According to the stipulation in his will, Cardinal Pole was buried “in my church of Canterbury in that chapel in which the head of the most blessed Martyr Thomas, formerly Archbishop of the said church, was kept.”141 Pole had died on the same day as Mary (November 17, 1558), and this ushered in the reign of Henry’s last surviving child, Elizabeth. The essentially Protestant religious settlement of 1559 and Elizabeth’s long reign of almost half a century largely sealed Becket’s fate.Thus,in a pop135 For an interesting comparison of the characters of Henry II and Henry VIII,see David Knowles, Thomas Becket (Stanford, California, 1971), pp. 36–37. 136 MacCulloch, op. cit., p. 535. 137 See David Loades, Mary Tudor: A Life (Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1989). 138 Quoted in Butler, op. cit., p. 123. 139 Davis, op. cit., p. 14; Norman Jones, The Birth of the Elizabethan Age: England in the 1560s (Oxford, 1993), p. 28; Finucane, op. cit., p. 213. 140 In 1555 at Canterbury the pageant and parade of St. Thomas were celebrated on the feast of his translation; see Haigh, op. cit., p. 214. 141 Quoted in Butler, op. cit., p. 60. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 600 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION ular history originally published in 1516, Becket was referred to as the “blessyd archebisshop,” but in the 1559 edition he had become the “trayterous byshoppe.”142 The rewriting of English ecclesiastical history became commonplace during the Elizabethan age. In the tradition of John Bale, but going much further, John Foxe in his Acts and Monuments (or Book of Martyrs) argued that English kings had fought for the true church of Christ against the church of Rome, as in the case of Henry II’s struggle with Becket.143 In another work, the cleric and historian William Harrison spoke of “examples of tyranny practiced by the prelates of [Canterbury] against their lords and sovereigns,” specifically citing Becket. He also noted approvingly that Henry VIII “had abolished the usurped authority of the Pope. . . .”144 Still, even by the late sixteenth century, within recusant Catholic circles,a devotion to St.Thomas of Canterbury remained.In 1586 the Jesuit missionary Henry Garnet wrote to his superior that he and his companion had arrived safely in England, around the feast of St. Thomas and in his diocese; therefore, he noted,“we were under his protection.”145 Another Jesuit, John Gerard, recalled that he had been given “a silver head of St.Thomas of Canterbury,”which was “quite a treasure because it contain[ed] a piece of the saint’s skull.”146 But if such devotion to Becket was increasingly rare, his aura of sanctity was still hard to erase. Thus, in the seventeenth century, even during the period of the Puritan Commonwealth, Becket was associated with powers of prophecy, based in part on the fact that he had been canonized by the Church.147 Nevertheless, despite such interesting aberrations, St.Thomas of Canterbury, arguably the most famous and influential English saint of the Middle Ages, had suffered a cruel fate. His shrine had been obliterated, his cult had gone into major decline, and his reputation had been transformed from that of a beloved saint to a condemned traitor. While there were many victims of the English Reformation, both Catholic and Protestant, Thomas Becket must be counted among those who were Finucane, op. cit., p. 214. O’Day, op. cit., pp. 16–30, esp. 18; Levy, op. cit., pp. 98–105, esp. 101–102. 144 William Harrison, The Description of England, edited by Georges Edelen (Washington, D.C., 1994), pp. 16–23, 50. 145 Philip Caraman, S.J., A Study in Friendship: Saint Robert Southwell and Henry Garnet (St. Louis, 1995), pp. 15–17. 146 John Gerard, The Autobiography of a Hunted Priest, translated by Philip Caraman (Chicago, 1952), p. 72. 147 Thomas, op. cit., pp. 410, 392, 395, 414. 142 143 BY ROBERT E. SCULLY, S.J. 601 most transfigured by the dramatic events of the sixteenth century. Certainly, few others have ever had so spectacular a rise or fall from grace. In the light of the ecumenical developments of the twentieth century, have there been any significant shifts in the attitude of the Anglican Church toward Thomas Becket? A change seems to have begun with discussions surrounding plans for a celebration at Canterbury Cathedral of the eighth centenary of Becket’s death in 1970. In addition to plans for an Anglo-French ecumenical pilgrimage to Canterbury, it was finally agreed that a Roman Catholic Mass would be celebrated in the Precincts of the cathedral on July 7 (the feast of Becket’s translation). Despite some earlier problems,“the Becket celebrations organized by Anglicans and Roman Catholics went off with great cordiality.”148 A few years later, on the one hundredth anniversary of St. Thomas’s Roman Catholic Church in Canterbury, the Dean of Canterbury Cathedral attended Mass at the church. Then, in 1978, it was agreed that St. Thomas’s parish could have two Masses each year in the cathedral, and that large pilgrimages could celebrate Masses in the Eastern Crypt. At last, as Keith Robbins writes,“all Christian traditions began to feel that they had a place in this House of God.”149 Perhaps most remarkable of all was the visit of Pope John Paul II to Canterbury Cathedral on May 29, 1982. In a particularly dramatic moment, the Pope and the Archbishop of Canterbury (Robert Runcie) knelt together in prayer at the site of the Martyrdom in the northwest transept of the cathedral. Nearby was the ecumenical chapel dedicated to the Martyrs of the Twentieth Century. Clearly, both the setting and the actions proclaimed “a message of reconciliation and hope.”150 One can only imagine what Henry VIII—and Thomas Becket—would have thought about these extraordinary developments. All of this seems to point to Becket’s continued power to inspire. In considering the question as to whether or not Thomas of Canterbury was truly a saint, a very helpful insight is provided by Leigh Axton Williams, an Episcopalian priest. As she perceptively concludes, “the issue of Thomas’s sanctity hinges on a single critical point: in the face of 148 Keith Robbins,“The Twentieth Century,1898–1994,”in Collinson,Ramsay,and Sparks (eds.), op. cit., pp. 334–335. 149 Ibid., p. 335. 150 Ibid., pp. 338–339. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 602 THE UNMAKING OF A SAINT: THOMAS BECKET AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION death itself he thought it worth his life to defend the truth as he understood it. More than that, even God does not ask of any person.”151 Thomas Becket was martyred and canonized in the twelfth century. He was expunged from the calendar of saints of the Church of England in the sixteenth century. Now, on the eve of the twenty-first century, he continues to be honored as a saint in the Catholic Church and he appears to be increasingly respected as a courageous (and perhaps saintly) human being in the Anglican Church. Thus, Thomas’s remarkable life and death continue to point to the central Christian belief that life truly involves both death and resurrection. 151 Leigh Axton Williams, “Between the Cherubim: The Becket Controversy and the Privilegium Fori,” The Anglican, 27 (April, 1998), 18–19. Mother Williams is also a lawyer and a theologian. METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN* On June 9, 1832, in the aftermath of the Polish Revolution of 1830, Pope Gregory XVI addressed the brief Cum primum to the bishops of Russian Poland, reminding them of their duty to obey legitimate authority and to instruct the faithful in that obedience.1 The brief was among the most controversial acts of the nineteenth-century Papacy. It stirred up a firestorm of criticism, not only from the Poles, but from both liberal and Catholic opinion in western Europe, as well as later historians. This paper will examine the motives that led Gregory first to issue the brief and then gradually to retreat from it, with a particular focus on the role of the Austrian chancellor, Prince Metternich. The prime mover behind the brief was Tsar Nicholas I, for very good reasons. In 1772–1795, Poland had disappeared from the map, partitioned among Austria, Prussia, and Russia. The Poles, bitterly resentful, had welcomed Napoleon, who in 1807 won their loyalty by creating a “Duchy of Warsaw” in a small part of the former Kingdom of Poland. At the Congress of Vienna in 1815, Tsar Alexander I obtained most of the Duchy; but in hopes of placating Polish opinion, he had given it a separate status as the Kingdom of Poland (“Congress Poland”) with himself as king. The experiment failed to satisfy the Poles while arousing the hostility of the Russians, and after Nicholas I became Tsar in 1825, he set about restricting the rights and special status of the Kingdom. He thereby provoked the Polish Revolution of November, 1830, put down only with difficulty. Among the reasons for the strength of the revolution was the strong support given it by the Polish clergy. It seemed obvious to Nicholas that the best way to end the clergy’s support for the Polish cause would be a Papal directive to them to obey his legitimate *Dr. Reinerman is a professor of history in Boston College. 1 A. M. Bernasconi (ed.), Acta Gregorii Papae XVI (4 vols.; Rome, 1901–1904), I, 143–144. 603 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 604 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 authority;such a declaration would also be discouraging for the Poles in general. Nicholas made his first move immediately after Gregory XVI’s election in February, 1831, ordering his minister at Rome, Prince Gregori Ivanovich Gagarin, to complain of the aid that Polish clergy were giving the rebels and asking him to remind them that they had no right to interfere in political matters, much less aid revolt against legitimate authority.2 The request put the Pope in a difficult position. He could see reasons to agree, even aside from the normal Papal wish not to offend a powerful ruler whose anger could do great harm to the Church. He already knew of the part that the clergy were playing in the revolt, which offended his deep conviction that the Church should not become involved in political affairs, as well as his dislike of revolution, now being reinforced by the outbreak of revolt in the Papal States; he knew too that many of the Polish leaders were anticlericals whose revolt was inspired by liberal ideals rather than religious devotion.3 At the same time, he was not without sympathy for the Poles and was well aware of the Tsar’s persecution of Catholicism. In the end, he decided on a limited compliance: a brief, Impensa caritas, to the Polish bishops “admonishing them in general terms to remember that they are ministers of the God of peace and should not take part in secular affairs, except to counsel the faithful to submit to lawful authority.”4 “Limited to such platitudes, the brief is such as not to compromise us,” the Secretary of State declared with satisfaction.5 However,for that very reason,the brief was too mild to satisfy the Tsar, who never published it.6 Meanwhile, the Poles too had begun to seek Papal support. In June a Polish emissary, Count Sebastian Badeni, arrived in Rome to ask the Papacy to persuade the Powers to hold a conference to discuss Polish independence. The Pope felt that compliance would take him too far away from his spiritual realm into the political. However, he decided that a second request, to urge Austria to use its influence to bring about a peaceful settlement, was in keeping with his spiritual character, espe2 Archivio Segreto Vaticano (hereafter: AV ), Rubrica 242 (hereafter: R242), Gagarin to Bernetti, February 11, 1831. 3 Rome was kept well informed on the Polish situation by the reports of the Vienna Nuncio, November, 1830/September, 1832, in AV, R247. 4 Printed in Liselotte Ahrens, Metternich und Deutschland (Münster, 1930), pp. 244–245. 5 AV, R247, Bernetti to Spinola, February 19, 1831. On the Pope’s position, see Adrien Boudou, Le Saint-Siège et la Russie (2 vols.; Paris, 1922), I, 174–181. 6 Ibid., p. 181. BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 605 cially since it was a question of the Poles,“so praiseworthy for their fervent Catholicism,” and since he had already addressed their bishops on the “duties of obedience to a legitimate sovereign even if schismatic.”7 Metternich, however, had no wish to embroil himself with the Tsar, whose alliance was vital to Austria, for the sake of a revolution whose victory would have been a major blow to the conservative order and a threat to Austria’s position in Galicia. In any case, it had long been an axiom of European diplomacy that the three powers that had partitioned Poland—Austria, Russia, and Prussia—had a common interest in standing united against any Polish revival. Austria, he replied, could not intervene between a ruler and his rebellious subjects; in any case, the Russians were at the gates of Warsaw, rendering diplomatic action futile. The Pope’s best course would be to write to the Tsar asking him to show mercy to the defeated. And indeed, on September 7, Warsaw fell.8 The revolution had been defeated, but the Poles remained sullenly hostile to Russian rule, and the spirit of revolution persisted. It was obvious to Nicholas that the Catholic clergy could be very helpful if they would use their influence to persuade the Poles to submit to Russian rule; unfortunately, most were exerting their influence in a contrary sense.9 Nicholas, therefore, decided on another approach to Rome. In the spring of 1832, Gagarin again asked the Pope to address the bishops of Poland. The Polish clergy had, he declared, betrayed their spiritual mission, stirring up and supporting the revolution, even taking part in the fighting.They could earn pardon only if they repaired the results of their errors by preaching submission to the Tsar. Since most refused, the Pope must recall them to their proper duties. If he did so, all would be well for the people and Church in Poland—the Tsar had just issued an organic statute for Poland which guaranteed religious freedom and the rights and property of the Church.If the Pope failed to act, however,and the clergy continued its resistance,the Tsar would have to 7 AV, Archivio della Nunziatura di Vienna (hereafter: ANV ), 258-C, Bernetti to Spinola, August 9, 1831; also, Bernetti to Badeni, July 2, July 13, 1831, R242. 8 AV, R242, Spinola to Bernetti, August 30, September 10, 1831. For Metternich’s views on the Polish Revolution, see Haus-, Hof- und Staatsarchiv,Vienna (hereafter: HHSA), Russland: Weisungen, to Fiquelmont, December 31, 1831, #1, 2, and personal; Gernot Seide, Regierungspolitik und öffentliche Meinung im Kaisertum Österreich anläßlich der polnischen Novemberrevolution 1830–1831 (Wiesbaden, 1971): and Josef Dutkiewicz, Austrja wobec powstania lstopadowego (Cracow, 1933). I am indebted to Chris Warkowski for help with the translations of works in Polish. 9 Boudou, op. cit., II, 182. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 606 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 take harsh measures against them. The responsibility for the suffering that would follow would be entirely the Pope’s.10 Nicholas did not rely only on Gagarin’s powers of persuasion;turning to the statesman known to have the greatest influence with the Papacy, he asked Metternich to use that influence for the good of the conservative cause.11 Metternich had every motive to agree. It was in Austria’s interest to prevent another Polish revolt. Revolution anywhere was undesirable, but doubly so in Poland, from which it might easily spread into Galicia. Another obvious motive was the need to keep the good will of the Tsar, whose support was vital for Austria’s international position and the conservative alliance. It was likewise desirable to try to keep his two allies, the Tsar and the Pope, on good terms, so that Austria did not have to choose between them, and so that controversy between them did not weaken the conservative front. Finally, Metternich was concerned at the liberal Catholicism preached by Lamennais, which had, he felt, misled the Polish clergy into supporting revolution—a warning of what it might do everywhere if not stopped. Catholic support for revolution in Poland must be condemned by the Head of the Church lest the Church be diverted from its proper place in the conservative ranks by the seductive errors of liberal Catholicism. Moreover, he believed that his advice was in the best interests of the Papacy, and even of the Poles. As for the latter, the failure of their revolution demonstrated that they were too weak to overthrow Russian rule. Their only hope was to reconcile themselves to the inevitable, and by showing themselves obedient subjects try to lighten the yoke placed upon them. As for the Pope, the Tsar had warned him that if his request was not met, he would take severe measures against the Church. Moreover, Metternich believed that the Union of Throne and Altar, with Russia as with Austria, was the policy that best conformed to Rome’s real interests, for it would thereby both help defeat revolution, the Church’s true enemy, and also win the confidence of the Tsar, who, once convinced that Catholics could be loyal subjects and that the Pope would use his authority to ensure their obedience, would adopt a more favorable policy toward the Church.12 AV, R242, Gagarin to Bernetti, April 20, 1832. HHSA, Rom: Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, March 31, 1832, #2. On Metternich’s relations with the Papacy, see Alan J. Reinerman, Austria and the Papacy in the Age of Metternich, 1809–1848 (2 vols. to date; Washington, D.C., 1979—). 12 On Metternich’s motives, see: HHSA, Rom: Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, March 31, #2, April 4. On his relations with Russia, see Ernst Molden, Die Orientpolitik des 10 11 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 607 Consequently, on March 31, he sent his ambassador, Count Rudolf von Lützow, a dispatch intended to be shown to the Pope. He opened with praise of the new organic statute for Poland, whose guarantees of religious freedom and the property of the Church proved the Tsar’s good will toward Catholicism. He then explained that the Tsar had asked Austria’s support for the request Gagarin was to make; Austria gladly did so, for it realized that the Polish clergy, misled by Lamennais, had shown a “fatal enthusiasm” for the revolution, which was really the product of a liberalism essentially atheistic. No doubt, Gregory XVI would see the necessity of strengthening his brief of 1831 so as to remind the Polish clergy of the “evangelical doctrine of submission to authority.”13 In a reserved dispatch, Metternich argued that the Tsar’s request presented the Pope with a great opportunity. The Tsar’s hostility toward Catholicism before 1830 had been “completely contrary to sound policy”, for he had thereby alienated what should have been his strongest support. Metternich had frequently urged him to seek the co-operation of the “essentially conservative” Papacy. The Tsar had unwisely rejected his advice, and had thereby brought the revolution of 1830 upon himself. Now, however, the Tsar had learned the error of his ways. His appeal to the Pope demonstrated that he had accepted Metternich’s arguments for co-operation with the Papacy. Lützow must convince the Pope to seize this “immense opportunity” to “prove to a schismatic government the power and benefit of Papal authority.”The Pope could then be confident that Russian policy would enter a new and benevolent stage.14 In all probability, Metternich sincerely believed this argument—after all, the policy he expected the Tsar to adopt was that which he himself had adopted in Austria, and which seemed to him a matter of simple common sense for any conservative ruler.15 Surely the 1830 revolution must have taught the Tsar the same lesson that those of 1789–1815 had taught to Metternich: the Catholic Church was his natural ally against Fürsten Metternichs, 1829–1833 (Vienna, 1913); Heinrich von Srbik, Metternich: der Staatsmann und der Mensch (3 vols.; Munich, 1925–1954), II, 653–657, 683–689; and, placed in the overall international context, Paul W. Schroeder, The Transformation of European Politics, 1763–1848 (Oxford, 1994), pp. 459–804. On his attitude to Lamennais, see Reinerman, op. cit., II, 244–269. 13 HHSA, Rom: Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, March 31, 1832, #2. 14 Ibid., April 4, 1832, #4, reserved. 15 On Metternich’s faith in the Union of Throne and Altar as an essential part of the conservative defense against revolution, see Reinerman, op. cit.,Vol. I. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 608 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 revolution, and its co-operation could easily be won by respecting its rights. Surely, after the hard lesson the Tsar had received in 1830,“the old errors will not be repeated, for the danger to the social order is so flagrant that no blindness could be so complete as to allow a return to them under any circumstances.”16 It was well for the Tsar that he had sought Austrian support,for it was Lützow who, in fact, bore the main weight of securing Papal approval. “It is impossible to treat an affair with greater indifference than Gagarin has done,” he complained.17 Gagarin had always regarded his post as a sinecure and devoted little attention to it.18 He had no idea how to go about winning the Pope’s agreement, and made little attempt to do so. In any case, his ill will toward the Papacy was notorious, and arguments coming from him were likely to be heavily discounted. Consequently, it was Lützow who did the necessary work of persuasion, against strong opposition. Opinion at Rome, as in Catholic Europe generally, was sympathetic to the Poles and hostile to Russia: even conservatives normally hostile to revolution were prepared to make an exception for one that might free a Catholic people from persecution.“The Polish revolution has many partisans here in every class,” Lützow had reported in 1831; “many cannot distinguish between the good cause and revolution in this struggle, and many of the upper clergy would welcome a Polish victory as a victory for religion.”19 That sentiment had not diminished by 1832, but had rather been increased by the Tsar’s harsh treatment of the defeated Poles, and there was little enthusiasm for gratifying the Tsar:“virtually all the influential clergy” opposed granting the Tsar’s request.20 Lützow made good use of the Pope’s confidence in Metternich and the good will Austria had won by its repression of the 1831 revolution in the Papal State to persuade Gregory of the validity of his arguments; he was aided by the fact that those arguments meshed well with the Pope’s own conservative views. Gradually he convinced the Pope that he would have to override the opposition of the cardinals and fulfill the Tsar’s request to bring the Polish clergy to a sense of their proper attitude toward authority. Nonetheless, Gregory could not be driven beyond a certain point: despite all Lützow’s and Gagarin’s arguments, the HHSA, Rom: Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, April 4, 1832, #3, reserved. Ibid.,Varia, Lützow to Metternich, April 18, 1832, personal. 18 Ibid., Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, July 17, 1831, #243-E. 19 Ibid., September 10, 1831, #254-A. 20 Ibid., May 25, 1839, #25-B. 16 17 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 609 Pope still refused to go as far as the Tsar wished and issue a specific condemnation of the Polish revolution and the role of the clergy in it.21 On June 9, 1832, Gregory addressed Cum primum to the Polish bishops. 22 Its fundamental ideas were the same as those of Impensa caritas, but the tone was much more severe. It denounced the “artificers of trickery and deceit who . . . under the cover of religion” turned the people against the “legitimate power of princes.” The bishops were reminded of St. Paul’s injunction to obey legitimate authority, and of their duty to instruct the faithful in that obedience. The clergy should avoid involvement in political questions which were outside their competence, and should devote their “constant efforts” to keep the faithful from being misled by “tricksters” who sought to misuse religion for political ends. He concluded by mentioning the Tsar’s promises, in the new organic statute, of favor for the Catholics if they proved obedient; he would himself second with all his might their reasonable requests to the Tsar, which the latter would no doubt welcome benevolently. It was only these final remarks about the Tsar’s promises that reveal the specific historic context of the brief; everything else consisted of general principles applicable to the Church as a whole. Gregory thus did not give the specific condemnation of the Polish revolution and the clergy’s role in it that the Tsar wanted and Lützow had tried to obtain. Such a condemnation had been included in the first draft of the brief, but had been deleted by Gregory himself, who preferred to remain on the ground of general principles rather than condemn the Poles in particular.23 “It was impossible to obtain more from the Pope than he has said,” Lützow lamented; but he considered the brief essentially satisfactory,as did Gagarin.24 The Tsar too was pleased,and had the brief widely publicized in Poland.25 The brief was among the most controversial acts of Gregory’s reign. The Poles were shocked and outraged at this apparent abandonment by Ibid.,Varia, May 25, 1839, personal. Bernasconi, op. cit., I, 143–144. 23 Giovanna Milella,“Le encicliche dei papi ai cattolici polacchi da Leone XII a Pio IX,” Sociologia, XII (1988), 107–126. 24 HHSA, Rom: Varia, Lützow to Metternich, June 3, 1832, personal, with Gagarin to Lützow, June 2, 1832. 25 AV, R268, Gagarin to Bernetti, August 30, 1832. Boudou, op. cit., I, 185. P. Lescoeur, L’église catholique en Pologne sous le gouvernement russe (2 vols.; Paris, 1876), I, 206– 207. 21 22 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 610 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 Rome of the people that had long been the bulwark of Catholicism in Eastern Europe. A serious and long-lasting crisis in Polish Catholicism resulted.Though faith in Catholicism remained strong,one of the pillars of Polish national consciousness throughout the long years of foreign domination, faith in the good intentions of the Vatican had suffered a blow from which it did not fully recover until the election of Pope John Paul II in 1978. In Western Europe too the brief aroused a storm of criticism. Liberal Catholics were particularly indignant. For Lamennais the brief was a major step in his disillusionment with Rome, and he bitterly denounced it as the product of a sordid bargain: the Tsar had signed an agreement to defend the Papal State against revolution, and in return the Pope had condemned the Poles.26 This was fantasy, and few critics went so far; but the feeling was widespread that the Pope had allowed his aversion to revolution to persuade him to abandon a Catholic people when they most needed his support.27 Why did Gregory issue the brief? —and, a related question, what was Metternich’s influence on his decision? The most detailed study of the brief 28 ascribes the Pope’s decision to his hostility to revolution, his wish for Austrian and Russian support in the event of a new revolution in his state, and his fear of the spread of Lamennaisianism. Most other historians echo this explanation in whole or in part. Certainly, those motives played a part in Gregory’s decision. Of his hostility to revolution, even by a Catholic people against an oppressive non-Catholic regime, as in Belgium and Ireland, there is no doubt. Like most of his peers who had gone through the ordeal of 1789–1815, he had emerged firmly convinced of the diabolical nature of the revolution and its fundamental hostility to the Church.29 That view had, of course, been further reinforced by the 1831 revolution in the Papal State. He was also influenced by his belief that the Polish revolt had been inspired by the ideas of Lamennais, whose condemnation was now under way at Rome. 30 But Gregory’s attitude was not merely a response to contingent events; it arose from his fundamental convictions, those long traditional in the Church, on the duty of Christians Affaires de Rome (Paris, 1836), pp. 126–127. Boudou, op. cit., I, 185–193. M. Kukiel, Czartoryski and European Unity (Princeton, 1955), p. 225. Otton Beiersdorf, Papiestwo wobec sprawy polskiej w latach 1772–1864. (Wroclaw, 1960); Lescoeur, op. cit., pp. 206–208. 28 Mieczyslaw Zywczynski, Geneza i nastepstwa encykliki Cum Primum z 9.VI.1832r (Warsaw, 1935). 29 The best expression of this is his Il trionfo della Santa Sede e la Chiesa contro gli assalti dei novatori (Rome, 1798). 30 Reinerman, op. cit., II, 244–268. 26 27 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 611 toward secular authority. His citation to the Polish bishops of St. Paul’s injunction to obey legitimate authority was no mere pretext for gratifying the Tsar’s wishes, but reflected a traditional view of the proper Christian attitude toward political authority. 31 These views, however, are only part of the explanation. Another motive must be considered—his opinion on the best way to aid Polish Catholics, for, contrary to Lammenais’s charge, he did not by any means intend to abandon them. He had long been aware of the persecution they suffered and wished to help them—but how? The bitter truth was that the revolution had been crushed, and Nicholas I was in full control of Poland; under these circumstances, even aside from Gregory’s basic principles, there was no point to encouraging Polish resistance—it would only lead to still harsher repression, as the Tsar had warned. The best course seemed to be that indicated by Metternich: to demonstrate the loyalty of Polish Catholics to the Tsar, in the hope that he would, as promised, treat them with greater benevolence. Gregory had no blind trust in the Tsar’s promises; but Metternich’s argument seemed plausible, that the Tsar had learned his lesson from the revolution and would now try to reconcile his Polish Catholic subjects if they would meet him halfway. In the absence of any other means of helping the Poles, this course seemed worth trying.32 This indicates where Metternich’s responsibility lies.It was not a matter, certainly, of the Pope acting simply to please Metternich, or slavishly following his advice from blind trust or from a need to keep Austrian military help against revolution. Nor did he need Metternich to instruct him in the principle of obedience to authority, the dangers of revolution, or the inappropriateness of clerical involvement in politics, all points of which he was already fully convinced. It was rather Metternich’s argument that the Tsar had realized the folly of persecuting Catholicism—that “no blindness could be so complete as to allow a return to the old errors under any circumstances,” that had impressed 31 Note, for example, his explanation of his motives, as reported by the British minister: “The Pope observed that he was no politician,but had always taken the Bible as his guide. Thus, during the late revolution, I remembered that the Bible enjoins us to be obedient to constituted authority, and so by means of letters to the bishops I tried to recall the Emperor’s Polish subjects to their allegiance.”Public Record Office, London (hereafter: PRO), FO 79/65, Seymour to Palmerston, August 28, 1832, #79. This attitude is also strongly expressed in his Il trionfo. 32 HHSA, Rom: Varia, Lützow to Metternich, June 25, 1832, personal. Archives du Ministère des Affaires Étrangères, Paris (hereafter: AMAEP), Correspondance politique, Rome, St-Aulaire to Sebastiani, August 28, 1832, #50. PRO, FO 79/65, Seymour to Palmerston, August 28, 1832, #79. M. H. Lisicki, Le Marquis Wielopolski, 1803–1877 (Vienna, 1880). 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 612 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 Gregory. Not only was it plausible in itself, but it came from one whom the Pope respected as the greatest statesman of the day, familiar with Russian conditions and the Tsar’s character, and of whose good will the Pope had no doubt.33 The Pope might not trust the Tsar, but he did trust Metternich, and Metternich had in effect gone surety for the Tsar’s conduct—a point which was to cause him some embarrassment in later years.34 Quite possibly the Pope would have sent his brief even had Metternich not intervened, given his views on obedience and his inability to see any other way to aid the Poles; but it seems safe to say that Metternich’s intervention, and Lützow’s skillful execution of it in place of Gagarin’s incapacity, provided the final impetus ensuring that the Pope would act. Gregory lost no time in putting to the test Metternich’s assurance that the brief would win the Tsar’s good will. On the same day that he gave Gagarin the brief, the Pope also gave him a confidential memoir expressing his complaints against Russian policy—the oppression of Polish Catholics, the obstruction of Papal authority—and expressing confidence that the Tsar would remedy them as he had promised.35 He asked Metternich to use his “potent influence” to persuade the Tsar to accept his requests, and the Prince did so.36 But three months passed without reply to the note; instead, there came a stream of reports that the persecutions in Poland were growing worse,37 and Gregory began to doubt that he had acted wisely. “The complaints of the Polish clergy, the deportation of thousands of children, the systematic decatholicization apparently intended to crush Poland totally, have profoundly afflicted him,” Lützow reported, “and have almost made him regret the brief to the Polish clergy.”38 The subject clearly oppressed his mind. The French ambassador reported that: 33 HHSA, Rom:Varia, Lützow to Metternich, June 25, 1832, personal. On the relationship between Gregory and Metternich, see Reinerman, op. cit.,Vol. II. 34 Note his complaint to Russia in 1833, when it had become clear that Russian policy toward Polish Catholicism had not changed,that he was “engaged in his honor”to see that the Tsar acted with the benevolence toward the Catholic Church which he had assured the Pope would follow Cum primum: HHSA, Russland: Weisungen, to Fiquelmont, January 25, 1833. 35 AV, R268, Note to Gagarin, June 9, 1832. On the fate of this note, see Boudou, op. cit., I, 192–194. 36 HHSA, Rom: Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, June 25, 1832, #336-C; Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, July 13, 1832, #4. 37 E.g., AV, R247, Spinola to Bernetti, July 24, 1832. 38 HHSA, Rom: Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, September 8, 1832, #353-D. BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 613 “these persecutions afflict his heart and trouble his conscience; he feels engaged in his honor to aid the Poles, for he refused them all encouragement during the war, instead recommending submission as a duty of conscience.”39 But Gregory’s disillusionment had only begun. He sent another and more forceful appeal to the Tsar in November, 1832. Metternich wrote in support of his appeal,urging the Tsar to satisfy the Pope’s complaints and seek his co-operation,which would benefit the real interests of Russia, Austria, and the conservative cause; moreover, his “own honor was engaged in this question,” since it was he who had convinced the Pope of the Tsar’s good faith. Nonetheless, the Russian reply in May, 1833, dismissed all the Pope’s complaints as either imaginary, or justified by Russian law or Catholic disloyalty.40 Gregory in disgust decided to send the Tsar a personal letter criticizing his failure to fulfill his promise of 1832 to treat his Catholic subjects benevolently. Metternich, fearing a break between his two allies, warned him that such a letter would have no effect while the Tsar was surrounded by his anti-Catholic advisers. Fortunately, the conservative rulers were to meet at Münchengratz in the autumn. There, in personal conversation he would convince the Tsar to change his religious policy.41 At Münchengratz, the Austrian Emperor Francis I warmly urged the justice of the Papal case upon the Tsar, while Metternich stressed the value of Papal co-operation for legitimate authority. Nicholas listened politely and professed himself in general agreement. After receiving an enthusiastic account of these talks from Metternich, the Pope wrote to the Tsar in terms suggested by the Prince, thanking him for his benevolent words at Münchengratz and expressing confidence that he would in consequence respect the rights and meet the needs of his Catholic subjects. In reply, Nicholas assured the Pope of his good will toward Catholicism and of his benevolence toward his Catholic subjects; he realized the need for church and state to stand together, and promised that his future actions would justify the Pope’s confidence.42 AMAEP, Rome 972, F.145, St. Aulaire to Sebastiani, August 28, 1832, #50. AV, R242, Bernetti to Gagarin, November, 1832; Gouriev to Bernetti, May 17,1833. HHSA, Russland: Weisungen, Metternich to Fiquelmont, January 25, 1833. 41 AV, ANV 276, Ostini to Bernetti, July 26, 1833, #122. 42 Ibid., November 28, 1833, January 23, 1834, #199; Bernetti to Ostini, January 9, 1834. HHSA, Rom: Varia, Lützow to Metternich, February 23, 1834, personal. Gregory XVI to Nicholas I, January 4, 1834, in Sophie Olszamowska-Skowronska, La correspondance des papes et des Empereurs de Russie 1814–1878 (Rome, 1970), pp. 236–237; Nicholas I to Gregory XVI, March 13, 1834, ibid., pp. 237–238. 39 40 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 614 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 Fine words; yet reports continued of attacks on the Church in Poland.43 The Pope once again began to plan a letter of complaint to the Tsar,only to be dissuaded by Metternich.The Prince did not deny the attacks, but he argued that they were only the unauthorized initiatives of subordinate officials. At the next meeting of the conservative powers, he would reveal to the Tsar the harm his subordinates were doing, and Nicholas would surely intervene.44 In these assurances there was more optimism than deliberate deceit. Certainly, Metternich was anxious to prevent a break between his two allies, and therefore tried to dampen Papal anger by presenting the Tsar’s actions in the most favorable light. However, he sincerely believed that he could persuade the Tsar to change his religious policy.His confidence stemmed in part from his conviction that co-operation with Rome was such obvious political wisdom that no conservative ruler could fail to grasp it eventually; but it also stemmed from his assumption that he had great influence over the Tsar. Unfortunately, Nicholas in fact disliked and distrusted him, and was determined not to fall under his influence, as he believed his brother Alexander I had, to the detriment of Russian interests.45 This miscalculation, rather than a deliberate attempt to mislead Rome, explains the gap between Metternich’s assurances and the Tsar’s performance. At the next meeting of the conservative powers in September, 1835, Metternich warned the Tsar of the harm his subordinates were doing, no doubt without his knowledge, by their persecution of Catholicism, and repeated his arguments for a more benevolent policy; the Tsar promised to give his views serious consideration. Metternich gave an optimistic report to Rome, but the latter had grown skeptical. As the Vienna Nuncio, normally his admirer, remarked,“Little, or better, nothing, will be accomplished from here.”46 His pessimism was justified, for the years that followed saw increasing attacks on the Church: arrests, confiscation of church property, growing pressure on the Eastern Uniates to convert to Orthodoxy.47 By 1836, Gregory was convinced that “Catholicism has no greater and more cruel foe than the Emperor Nicholas; he wishes its destruction E.g., AV, ANV 276, Ostini to Bernetti, May 1, 1835. Ibid., May 15, #368, June 12, 1835, #379. HHSA, Rom: Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, July 11, 1835. 45 Theodor Schiemann, Geschichte Russlands unter Kaiser Nikolaus I. (4 vols.; Berlin, 1904–1919), III, 234–235. 46 AV, ANV 276, Ostini to Bernetti, October 18, 1835, #43. 47 Boudou, op. cit., I, 209–248. 43 44 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 615 everywhere.”48 As Russian intransigence drove home the point that the Tsar had ignored his advice completely, even Metternich’s selfconfidence faltered. In 1837 he “admitted with the greatest candor that he has no means of acting in favor of the Catholic Church with the Russian Emperor, and cherishes no real hope of success.”49 The persecution was climaxed in 1839 by the suppression of the Eastern Uniate Church and the forced conversion of its members to Orthodoxy.50 This convinced Gregory that a public protest was necessary.51 Though Metternich warned that a protest would only irritate the Tsar,52 on November 22, 1839, Gregory delivered the allocution Multa quidem condemning the suppression and rebuking those responsible for it.53 Metternich’s advice was not entirely ignored, for the allocution was relatively mild, given the gravity of the event, much weaker than many cardinals would have liked.54 Still, it remained true that he had been unable to prevent a public protest. Nor could he prevent another alarming development: disillusioned with the Tsar—and Metternich—Gregory became increasingly friendly toward the Polish emigration. The exiled Poles had been shocked by the encyclical of 1832, and many had reacted by turning against the Vatican. Others, however, including their chief leader, Prince Adam Czartoryski, still hoped to win over the Pope to the Polish cause.55 That hope was vain as long as Gregory believed that his conciliatory policy and Metternich’s intercession would bring an end to the persecution. In 1837, however, Gregory began to receive Czartoryski’s emissaries.56 Admitting his disillusionment with the Tsar, the Pope willingly agreed to their proposal to admit Polish exiles into the seminaries of Rome to study for the priesthood, after which they would return to HHSA, Rom:Varia, Lützow to Metternich, February 21, 1836. AV, ANV 280, Capaccini to Lambruschini, July 2, 1837. 50 Wasyl Lencyk, The Eastern Catholic Church and Tsar Nicholas I (Rome, 1966). 51 HHSA, Rom: Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, March 30, 1839, #14-C. 52 Ibid., Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, January 19, 1839, #2. 53 Bernasconi, op. cit., II, 381–383. 54 AV, ANV 281-F, Altieri to Lambruschini, December 14, 1839. 55 Kukiel, op. cit., p. 225. Giampiero Bozzolato, “Un momento della politica estera dei conservatori polacchi verso il Vaticano e verso l’oriente slavo: Michele Czajkowski e le sue missioni in Italia 1840–41,” Rassegna storica del Risorgimento, LI (1964), 319–344, 455–480; Hans Henning Hahn, Aussenpolitik in der Emigration. Die Exildiplomatie Adam Czartoryskis 1830–1840 (Munich, 1978), pp. 142–143, 187–189. 56 Bozzolato, op. cit., 332–338. Nichole Taillade, “Montalembert, Rome, et la Pologne (1833–1850), “Études Hispano-Italiennes, III (1989), 343–359. Lescoeur, op. cit., I, 211–215. 48 49 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 616 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 Poland to keep the faith alive. In return, he asked that they provide him with the information he otherwise found hard to get about conditions there. The Poles did so, and had the satisfaction of seeing that their information on the persecution helped to bring about Gregory’s public protests of 1839 and 1842,both by arousing his indignation against Russian policy and by providing him with the means to document his protests. Relations between Rome and the Poles steadily improved. He now allowed Poles to live in Rome without restriction or surveillance57 and admitted them to audience without the approval of the partitioning powers which he had previously required. Gregory never went so far as to grant their greatest wish, a public declaration of support for Polish independence and the break with Russia that would have entailed,nor did he establish formal relations with the Polish exiles;but he did eventually allow Czartoryski to establish a Polish Agency in Rome, an informal legation recognized de facto as the channel for his relations with the Papacy. 58 He rejected Russian demands backed by Metternich to suppress a Polish colony established by the Lazarist fathers near Constantinople, defending it as a simple work of charity, though it was in fact intended as a center for Polish anti-Russian activities in the Near East.59 He also approved the foundation by Polish exiles in 1841 of the Resurrectionist Order; the latter, based at Rome and operating clandestinely in Russia, eventually became the Papacy’s main source of information about real conditions there.60 The Pope kept Austria unaware of his changed attitude toward the Poles, and Metternich learned of it only through Czartoryski’s intercepted correspondence.61 He was alarmed at the Pope’s willingness to adopt, very quietly, a policy that he must have known would displease Austria—a disturbing sign of the decline of its influence at Rome. Still worse, it might be a sign that Papal allegiance to the Union of Throne and Altar was wavering. He wrote at once to warn,“Rome is entering into a very dangerous path.” The Tsar would surely be furious, and the persecution would redouble. Moreover, the Poles were trying to “cover HHSA, Rom: Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, March 30, 1839, #14-C. Nicole Taillade, “Montalembert, Rome, et la Pologne (1833–1850),” in Libéralisme chrétien et catholicisme libéral en Espagne, France, et Italie dans la Première moitié du XIXe siècle (“Études Hispano-Italiennes,” No. 3 [Aix-en-Provence, 1989]), pp. 353–355; Bozzolatto, op. cit., pp. 338–344, 455–480; Kukiel op. cit., pp. 226–227. 59 HHSA, Rom: Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, December 17, #6, December 23, 1842, January 28, 1843; Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, January 14, #2-D, March 11, #7-A, March 25, 1843, #8-C. Kukiel, op. cit., pp. 232–250. 60 See John Iwicki, Resurrectionist Charism (3 vols.; Rome, 1986),Vol. I. 61 HHSA, Rom:Varia, Metternich to Lützow, February 15, 1839. 57 58 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 617 revolution with the mask of religion,” to instrumentalize the Church for their political purposes; surely the Pope could not approve of this perversion of religion, especially since it would benefit revolution, the true enemy of the Church.62 But Metternich’s warning had little impact.63 Even Cardinal Lambruschini, the ultra-conservative Secretary of State who had helped Gregory draw up Cum primum,was unwilling to take a hard line with the Poles: “Rome must not repulse those who have suffered for the faith,” simply to please the Tsar,“the most pronounced enemy of Catholicism.” He defended the Roman clergy who co-operated with the Poles as erring only from imprudent zeal for a good cause.64 And Lambruschini was far more restrained in his feeling on this point than most at Rome—“most influential prelates” sympathized with the Poles.“The principles and wishes of Czartoryski . . . find more sympathy in the Vatican than the complaints of a sovereign who at a stroke submits millions of Catholics to a schismatic church.” To try to push Rome to more severe restrictions on the Poles would be counter-productive, Lützow warned, stirring memories of Metternich’s role in promoting the brief of 1832, now generally regretted.Virtually all the influential clergy had opposed sending it, and Russian policy since 1832 had confirmed their conviction that it had been an error. There was general reluctance to repulse the Poles again to please an oppressive Tsar—or Metternich. The talks with the Poles, therefore, continued, informal but increasingly cordial, and did much to convince Gregory that his silence was giving scandal to the Catholic world and would have to end.65 By 1842, the Pope was convinced that a more forceful protest than that of 1839 was necessary. Metternich’s urging of restraints fell upon deaf ears, for it was clear that by following his advice since 1832 Rome had gained nothing.66 Metternich’s opinion, long shared by Gregory, that a strong protest would only spur harsher persecution, had lost its force; it seemed clear that the Tsar would proceed with his plans regardless of Roman moderation. Perhaps bringing the persecution forcefully before European opinion might give the Tsar pause. These were the years when works such as Astolphe Custine’s Russie en 1839 67 were making a great impact on European opinion and doing much to Ibid., March 2, 1839; also, March 16, 1839. Ibid., Lützow to Metternich, March 2, 1839; Berichte, March 30, 1839, #14-C. 64 Ibid., Berichte, March 30, 1839, #19-C. 65 Ibid., June 8, 1839, #28-C. 66 Ibid., Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, March 26, reserved, July 16, 1842, reserved. 67 Paris, 1843. 62 63 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 618 METTERNICH, POPE GREGORY XVI, AND REVOLUTIONARY POLAND, 1831–1842 turn it against Russia with their revelations of Tsarist tyranny.A vigorous Papal denunciation of the persecution might have a deterrent effect; it would probably not make things worse and was in any case necessary to show the persecuted Catholics that they had not been forgotten and to show the world that the Pope did not condone their persecution.68 Such, Lützow reported in January, 1842, was the opinion of “all notable men in the Sacred College, and all ecclesiastics distinguished by virtue and wisdom.”69 Since Metternich still warned against a protest, the Pope in March, 1842, asked him bluntly if he could make it unnecessary by persuading the Tsar to end the persecution. The Chancellor had to admit that he had no hope of doing so.70 On July 22, 1842, the Pope delivered the allocution Haerentem diu,71 which described, in much more forceful terms and on a broader scale than that of 1839, the persecution of the Church, the Pope’s unsuccessful efforts to halt it by appeals to the Tsar, and the resulting complaints that he had abandoned the Catholics in the Empire, which now had made this public protest necessary. It ended with an appeal to the Tsar to end the persecution.The allocution was short, but was accompanied by an Exposé72 of some ninety documents which demonstrated beyond any doubt the reality of the persecution, the long Papal effort to persuade the Tsar to abandon it, and the intransigent and often dishonest Russian response. The allocution, and especially the Exposé, made a great impact on European opinion. It was applauded by both Catholics and liberals, and contributed to the hostility toward Russia then developing in the West.73 Particularly loud applause came, of course, from the Poles, who had been working for this since 1837.“The Poles are jubilant,for they regard this as in some sense a reversal of the Brief of 1832, and even a vindication of their revolution,” reported Lützow.74 Their victory was far from complete, for Gregory had by no means abandoned his conservative principles and was to give the Poles additional, if lesser, cause for complaint before his pontificate was over; but a victory it was, nonetheless, Boudou, op. cit., I, 311–316. HHSA, Rom: Berichte, Lützow to Metternich, January 29, 1842, #4-A. 70 Ibid., Weisungen, Metternich to Lützow, March 26, 1842, reserved. 71 Bernasconi, op. cit., III, 224–225. 72 Esposizione corredata di documenti (Rome, 1842). 73 Boudou, op. cit., I, 319–330. 74 HHSA, Rom:Varia, to Metternich, September 3, 1842. 68 69 BY ALAN J. REINERMAN 619 for this was a turning-point: the Papacy would never again take so harsh and uncomprehending a stance against the Poles under Russian rule as it had in 1832. Metternich put a good face on matters,praising the allocution and expressing hope that the Tsar would “profit from this revelation to put himself on a better course.”75 But he knew that he had suffered a defeat: all his efforts had been inadequate to keep the Pope from issuing his protest—an alarming sign of the decline of his once all-powerful influence at Rome. His credit declined further when the allocution did not have the disastrous effects he had predicted—it did not lead to a break between the Vatican and Russia nor to a more severe persecution; but on the contrary, to the beginning of serious negotiations for a settlement and to an abatement,at least temporarily,of the persecution.76 The Pope could not help but see how wrong, if in general well intentioned, Metternich’s advice had been—did he also perhaps wonder whether events might have taken a better course had he not yielded to his urging and dispatched the Brief of 1832? Thus the diplomacy of the decade 1832–1842, which had opened with Metternich’s influence at Rome securing a major concession to the Tsar at the expense of the Poles, ended with Austrian influence at Rome in decline, with Rome showing new firmness toward the Tsar, and with the Polish emigration on cordial if informal terms with the Pope—an outcome that few could have foreseen when Gregory sent his Brief in 1832, and one of the more striking reversals in nineteenthcentury Papal history. AV, ANV 281-N, Altieri to Lambruschini, August 12, 1842. Boudou, op. cit., I, 322–469. 75 76 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR AND ARCHBISHOP MICHAEL AUGUSTINE CORRIGAN BY ANTHONY D.ANDREASSI* I. Introduction Sometimes friends are more dangerous than enemies. This axiom proved dramatically true in the case of one nineteenth-century New York priest, Richard Lalor Burtsell, whose friendship with another New York cleric, Edward McGlynn, cost him dearly, both in his own lifetime and in the attention accorded him by posterity. Edward McGlynn is still remembered today for his radical political views and his subsequent excommunication.1 Richard Burtsell was a staunch supporter of his friend McGlynn and paid a high price for his loyalty. The figure of Edward McGlynn looms so large in virtually every account of late nineteenth-century New York Catholicism that it has tended to eclipse the importance and significance of Richard Burtsell. *Mr. Andreassi, who holds a master’s degree in American history, teaches at Gonzaga College High School in Washington, D.C. He wishes to thank Monsignor Thomas J. Shelley of Fordham University for his help in the research and writing of this article. 1 McGlynn receives a brief mention in virtually every survey of American Catholic history. Recently, Alfred Isacsson, O.Carm., published The Determined Doctor: The Story of Edward McGlynn (Tarrytown, New York, 1996), a comprehensive study of McGlynn, but no definitive scholarly biography has yet been written. Stephen Bell’s Rebel, Priest and Prophet: A Biography of Dr. Edward McGlynn (New York, 1937), is a polemical work of little academic value. The best treatment of McGlynn is to be found in Robert Emmett Curran, S.J., Michael Augustine Corrigan and the Shaping of Conservative Catholicism in America, 1878–1902 (New York, 1978). There are two recent studies of McGlynn as a social reformer:Dominic Scibilla,“Edward McGlynn,Thomas McGrady,and Peter C. Yorke: Prophets of American Social Catholicism”(Ph.D.dissertation,Marquette University,1990); and Manuel Scott Shanenberger,“The Reverend Dr. Edward McGlynn: An Early Advocate of the Social Gospel in the American Catholic Church: An Intellectual History” (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Virginia, 1993). The Archives of the Archdiocese of New York (hereafter, AANY ) contains a 530-page typewritten Latin and English summary of the McGlynn affair that appears to have been composed for Archbishop Corrigan, perhaps by the Reverend Michael J. Lavelle, a chancery official. 620 BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 621 In some respects, however, Burtsell was a more substantive figure than McGlynn. Speaking of the McGlynn Affair, Archbishop Michael Augustine Corrigan wrote that Burtsell was “the backbone of the rebellion,”2 and Bishop Anthony Ludden of Syracuse described him as “the cunning leader of a dangerous clique.”3 Burtsell might very well be remembered today as the most famous priest in the history of the Archdiocese of New York if it were not for his more flamboyant and better-known friend, Edward McGlynn. The “McGlynn Affair” is so well known that its prominence has tended to eclipse the “Burtsell Affair,” which occurred at the same time (when Corrigan removed Burtsell from his Manhattan pastorate). Unlike McGlynn, who ignored canon law and made a demagogical appeal to public opinion, Burtsell, who was adept in canonical procedures, used legal channels to contest Corrigan’s attempt to remove him from the parish which he had founded. The battle was carried on both publicly and privately and revealed a good deal about the character of both men and the changing nature of political authority in the American Catholic Church at that time. Earlier in the nineteenth century priests often received a favorable hearing when they appealed to Rome against disciplinary actions by their bishops. However, in this instance, Rome came down firmly on the side of the Corrigan. The Burtsell Affair also reveals the influence of the éminence grise of the early years of the Corrigan administration, his vicar general,Thomas S. Preston. A convert Episcopal clergyman and a rigid conservative with ultramontane views, Preston constantly urged Corrigan to take decisive action against Burtsell. While Burtsell paid dearly for his friendship with McGlynn, Corrigan benefited from his friendship with Preston, who mapped out a successful strategy that enabled Corrigan to quiet Burtsell and score a clear victory against his upstart priest. However, it may have been a Pyrrhic victory,since Corrigan’s actions against Burtsell further polarized an already divided clergy and laity in New York because of the internecine battles of the McGlynn Affair. Preston, however, was convinced that Burtsell was the leader of an “Americanist” faction among the New York clergy whose liberal political and theological views threatened the unity of the Church. He continually urged Corrigan to discipline Burtsell in order to squelch his liberal influence just at the time the two factions in the American Catholic Church were gath2 AANY, C-18, Corrigan to McDonnell, December 15, 1887, copy, as cited in Curran, op. cit., p. 305. This letter is no longer available in these archives. I am indebted to Professor Curran for providing me with a copy of this letter. 3 AANY, G-3, Ludden to Corrigan, August 31, 1893. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 622 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR ering strength and readying for battle in the “Americanist” crisis which came to a head in the late 1890’s. II. Richard Lalor Burtsell Richard Lalor Burtsell was born in New York on April 14, 1840, and baptized in St. Mary’s Church on Grand Street. He received his early education in New York City parochial schools and at the Jesuit-run College of St. Francis Xavier.4 As a boy, Burtsell excelled in his studies and was awarded several honors during his time at the Jesuit college.5 When he expressed an interest in studying for the priesthood in 1851, he was sent to the Sulpician Seminary in Montreal, and two years later at the tender age of thirteen,he was sent alone across the Atlantic to the Urban College of Propaganda in Rome.6 There he received a doctorate in philosophy in 1858 and a doctorate in theology in 1862 and was ordained a priest on August 10 of that same year. As a student in Rome Burtsell would have witnessed such important events as the war of 1859 between Austria and France, which paved the way for the annexation of most of the Papal States by Piedmont and the proclamation of the Kingdom of Italy in 1861. Experiences such as these widened Burtsell’s outlook and gave him a sophisticated awareness of the world that 4 Burtsell claimed that his forebears came to America from Wales in 1640, first settling in Maryland; however, there is no evidence to support this lofty claim. He also asserted that by the time of the American Revolution his ancestors were living in New York and had become quite wealthy. Nelson Callahan puts forth these claims in the preface to his edition of part of Burtsell’s diary,The Diary of Richard L.Burtsell, Priest of New York: The Early Years, 1865–1868 (New York, 1978). The fact that Burtsell attended the College of St. Francis Xavier instead of the more prestigious (and costly) St. John’s College at Fordham makes one wonder whether his family was as well-heeled as Callahan claims. In an 1836 building campaign for St. Peter’s Church on Barclay Street, New York’s oldest Catholic parish, the Burtsell family gave five dollars, one of the lowest donations on the list of contributors (AANY, ST-I-1, “Records of the Building Committee of St. Peter’s Church, 1836–1837”). Also, in a letter from Archbishop John Hughes to Bishop John Fitzpatrick of Boston, Hughes states that after the death of Burtsell’s father, who Hughes claims was a “drunkard,” the family was reduced to penury. Mrs. Burtsell was then forced “to trudge in fair weather or foul, with sometimes scarcely shoes on her feet to give lessons on music . . . but especially on the harp; by which means she was able to provide bread for her children” (AANY, A-3, Hughes to Fitzpatrick, September 5, 1859). 5 Archives of the College of St. Francis Xavier,“Prize Students and Honor Students From July 1851 to July 1857.” This document states that in 1851 Burtsell received commendations for his study of religious instruction, Latin composition, and geography. 6 Burtsell’s uncle, William Plowden Morrogh, was a New York priest, who had been a professor at the Propaganda College in Rome and sometime rector of St. Joseph’s Seminary at Fordham. BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 623 was unknown in the much more cloistered atmosphere of American seminaries where most of Burtsell’s fellow New York priests were trained. Upon his return to New York, the twenty-two-year-old priest was assigned to one of the most fashionable parishes in Manhattan, St. Ann’s Church on East Eighth Street, whose pastor was his future nemesis, Thomas S. Preston.7 Burtsell remained at St.Ann’s until December, 1867, when he was given the responsibility of establishing the new Church of the Epiphany on the east side of Manhattan. In 1868 a census of the parish put the number of Catholics at almost 10,000.8 Burtsell quickly built a church and a school and showed himself a competent parochial administrator. In 1865 Burtsell began to keep a diary which is a unique source of information for the history of the Archdiocese of New York (and at times for the Catholic Church in the United States in general) from that date until his death in 1912.9 For this reason alone Burtsell deserves to be remembered by historians. Early in his priesthood he began to attend the meetings of a group of priests who came to be known as the “New York Accademia.”They began meeting in 1866 under the patronage of Father Thomas Farrell, pastor of St. Joseph’s Church in Greenwich Village, to discuss controversial political and theological topics such as optional clerical celibacy, the necessity of a vernacular liturgy, a more restrictive view of scriptural inerrancy, and Fenianism in Ireland. As one might ex7 There is no biography of Preston. However, for a scholarly treatment of him, see Kent Wilson, “The Oxford Movement in New York” (M.A. thesis, St. Joseph’s Seminary, Dunwoodie, 1990). Richard J. Purcell once described Preston as “rather more Catholic than the pope” (Dictionary of American Biography, XV, 205). Preston published twenty-one books including biographies of saints, theological treatises, spiritual meditations, and editions of his lectures and homilies. Shortly after Vatican Council I, he sent one of his books, The Vicar of Christ; or Lectures Upon the Office and Prerogatives of Our Holy Father, the Pope, to Archbishop Henry Manning for review. Manning was delighted with Preston’s broad interpretation of papal authority and commented: “There is no doubt that the Council has silenced our wise-men, both with-in and without, who were trying to deride ‘Ultramontanism’. The world knows that Catholic and Ultramontane are convertible.” (Archives of the Religious of the Divine Compassion, White Plains, New York, Manning to Preston, January 19, 1872. Preston co-founded the Religious of the Divine Compassion in 1873 with fellow convert, Mother Veronica Starr. 8 John Gilmary Shea (ed.), Goulding’s Churches of New York (New York, 1878), p. 281. 9 Unfortunately, the diary is not continuous; there are five gaps amounting to about eleven years in the almost 5,000 pages covering twelve ledger books. The diary is interrupted between February 14, 1867, and January 1, 1872; December 31, 1878, and January 1, 1880; May 13, 1894, and March 1, 1895; November 6, 1904, and July 1, 1907; and October 31, 1908, and April 15, 1910. Only the first three years have been published (see fn. 4). 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 624 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR pect, such conversations raised many an eyebrow in the highly conservative New York chancery office. Burtsell’s association with the Accademia and its avant-garde theological opinions branded him as a maverick and aroused the suspicions of his superiors. Edward McGlynn was also an active member of this group, and Burtsell’s association with him in the Accademia may have solidified their friendship which had begun when they were seminarians in Rome.10 Because of his work as a canonical advocate for priests, Burtsell’s significance went far beyond his native New York,and he was known (and often disliked) by several American bishops for his advocacy of priests in disputes with their bishops. In one of the more famous cases which was heavily covered in the secular press, Burtsell acted as advocate for Father Louis A. Lambert, pastor of St. Mary’s Church in Waterloo, New York. Because of a disagreement over Lambert’s support of Irish nationalism in a newspaper he edited, Bishop Bernard J. McQuaid of Rochester removed Lambert from the Waterloo parish. At once Lambert enlisted the aid of Burtsell, who quickly went to work to have him reinstated. In regard to Burtsell’s involvement McQuaid stated, “Burtsell came to Waterloo to plot, with Protestants and a few bad Catholics, Lambert’s return.”11 Burtsell was also well known by Bishops Edward Fitzgerald of Little Rock, James O’Connor of Omaha, and John Moore of St. Augustine, Florida (who was also a seminary classmate of Burtsell), since as young priests, these men were sometime participants in Accademia discussions. Burtsell was especially close with Moore, whom he accompanied as personal theologian to the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore in 1884.12 In addition to dealing with American bishops, in 1878 Burtsell met with Bishop George Conroy, Bishop of Ardagh and Apostolic Delegate to Canada. On a visit to the United States Conroy met with Burtsell, a fellow alumnus of the Urban College, and the two 10 For the definitive study of this theological group, see Robert Emmett Curran, S.J., “Prelude to ‘Americanism’: The New York Accademia and Clerical Radicalism in the Late Nineteenth Century,” Church History, 47 (March, 1978), 48–65, and “The McGlynn Affair and the Shaping of the New Conservatism in American Catholicism,1886–1894,”Catholic Historical Review, 66 (April, 1980), 184–204. 11 McQuaid to Giovanni Cardinal Simeoni, July 19, 1890, as cited in Frederick Zwierlein, The Life and Letters of Bishop McQuaid, Vol. III (Rochester, 1927), p. 139. Zwierlein states that this letter was in his possession. Also during these years, Burtsell acted as canonical advocate for priests in the Brooklyn and Albany dioceses (AANY, Burtsell, Diary, March 25, 1885; April 23, 1885). 12 Callahan, op. cit., p. iv. BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 625 discussed the advisability of appointing an apostolic delegate to the United States.13 In 1887 Burtsell published The Canonical Status of Priests in the United States,which first appeared serially in the New York Tablet. This 106-page essay argued for the rights of pastors in not being arbitrarily removed from their pastorates. (At this time canon law did not grant missionary rectors—which most American pastors were—the right to a trial before removal.)14 Arguments such as these certainly did not endear Burtsell to most American bishops who were not above neglecting the rights of their priests in the running of their dioceses, especially during this time of unprecedented expansion in the American Church due to the flood of new Catholic immigrants. In 1888 McQuaid of Rochester wrote to Corrigan stating that Burtsell’s recent work would cause troubles for him in Rome, adding that Rome should expect nothing less since it had “encouraged every malcontent” in allowing American priests to appeal to Rome in canonical disputes with their bishops.15 McQuaid’s comments proved prescient, for Rome eventually did grow exasperated with the complaints of Burtsell and others like him, and came down full-square on the side of Corrigan in Burtsell’s appeal of his removal. Thus principally due to his work as canonical advocate, Burtsell came to be known by priests and bishops throughout the Church in the United States, and Corrigan’s eventual attack on him could be interpreted as a sign to other overly zealous American priests who might have looked to Burtsell for support or as a role model. III. The Burtsell Affair In the early 1880’s McGlynn became enamored with the “single tax” theory put forth by the economic reformer Henry George. As pastor of St. Stephen’s Church on East Twenty-Eighth Street, McGlynn was greatly concerned with the crushing poverty of many of his immigrant Irish 13 Burtsell, Diary, May 14, 1878, as cited in John Tracy Ellis, The Life of James Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop of Baltimore, 1834–1921 (Milwaukee, 1952), I, 598. 14 Richard L. Burtsell, The Canonical Status of Priests in the United States (New York, 1878). Curran provides a brief but excellent interpretation of this work in “Prelude to ‘Americanism.’” 15 McQuaid to Corrigan, March 1, 1888, in Robert Trisco,“Bishops and Their Priests in the United States,” in The Catholic Priest in the United States: Historical Investigations, ed. John Tracy Ellis (Collegeville, Minnesota, 1971), p. 258. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 626 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR parishioners,and he saw a potential solution in George’s theories.Much to the chagrin of New York’s chancery, McGlynn often spoke at large public assemblies supporting George’s radical ideas on land ownership and taxation. In the New York City mayoralty election of 1886 McGlynn publicly endorsed George’s candidacy on a third-party ticket.16 Charging him with preaching against traditional Catholic teachings, in January, 1887, Corrigan removed him as pastor of St. Stephen’s Church and in the following July McGlynn incurred excommunication for his failure to obey a summons to Rome. However, McGlynn remained a popular leader among his former parishioners and among other New Yorkers who joined him in their support of the Anti-Poverty Society, an organization he founded with Henry George in March, 1887. Throughout this period Burtsell remained a loyal friend to McGlynn and tried to exercise a moderating influence on him. Nonetheless, Corrigan and Preston became convinced that Burtsell was abetting McGlynn’s intransigence and was a fulcrum for disunity and disobedience among the clergy of the archdiocese. In response to Burtsell’s continual and public support of his excommunicated friend, in April, 1887, Corrigan removed Burtsell from his position as Defender of the Bond in the Matrimonial Tribunal after he had attended a public meeting with McGlynn.According to one newspaper account, Burtsell had a stormy interview with Archbishop Corrigan, who asked Burtsell why he interfered in a “quarrel not his own.” Burtsell responded that now McGlynn’s case was no longer under Corrigan’s control but in the hands of Rome and that he had the right to state his opinions.The newspaper reporter then stated that Corrigan lost control of his usually well-controlled demeanor and stormed,“But your case is not out of my hands.”17 In February, 1888, Burtsell became embroiled in the McGuire case, which again put him at odds with Corrigan. John McGuire, a layman, died while attending an Anti-Poverty Society meeting. Corrigan had made attendance at these meetings a reserved sin. After learning of McGuire’s attendance at these meetings, New York chancery officials denied him burial in the archdiocesan Calvary Cemetery. McGuire’s son sued arguing that his father had no way of knowing that Catholics were forbidden to attend these meetings since the archdiocese had issued no formal directive on the matter. Burtsell appeared as a witness on his be16 In this election George came in second, garnering over 68,000 votes, and Abram S. Hewitt, a Democrat, was the winner. The Republican candidate (and future president), Theodore Roosevelt, came in last. See “George, Henry,” The Encyclopedia of the City of New York, ed. Kenneth T. Jackson (New York, 1995), p. 461. 17 New York Times, April 15, 1887. BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 627 half. The archdiocese countered by saying that, since the now excommunicated McGlynn appeared at these meetings, Catholics should realize that their attendance would be considered contumacious. Burtsell argued that Catholics could disobey ecclesiastical regulations if they did so for reasons of conscience. However, when the archdiocese introduced evidence in support of its position from the Congregation of the Inquisition, the civil court dismissed the plaintiff’s case, claiming that it could not adjudicate on internal religious affairs. McGuire’s son appealed, but the higher court stayed the lower court’s decision.18 The simmering dispute between Corrigan and Burtsell came to a head in October, 1889. Burtsell finally did something that Corrigan seized upon as a legitimate cause to remove him as pastor of the Church of the Epiphany. On October 24, 1889, Theresa Kelly, Burtsell’s assistant Sunday school superintendent, died suddenly. Kelly had been an active member of McGlynn’s Anti-Poverty Society, like John McGuire. In fact, Miss Kelly had attended a meeting of the Society only four days before her death. On the day of her death Burtsell wrote in his diary that “the [news]papers already had her published as an energetic worker of the Anti-Poverty Society and thought Christian burial would be refused.”19 The next day Burtsell consulted Miss Kelly’s cousin about the funeral arrangements and decided to proceed with them “whatever decision [was] given by Msgr. Preston.” Accordingly, on October 26, Burtsell celebrated a funeral Mass for Miss Kelly and accompanied her body to the cemetery. He thought that the secular press exaggerated the number of mourners from the Anti-Poverty Society, but he commented ominously: “The [news]papers suggested that I might be disciplined.”20 The very next day Preston informed Corrigan of the funeral Mass for Miss Kelly, claiming that Burtsell had “made an elaborate eulogy of that unfortunate woman as ‘in all respects a model Catholic.’” He added that it was public knowledge Miss Kelly had attended the meeting of the Anti-Poverty Society after receiving communion at Sunday Mass at the Church of the Epiphany. Continuing in his effort to goad Corrigan to take decisive measures, Preston ended the letter by saying:“There is no moral doubt that Burtsell & two or three others pay no attention to the reservation.”21 Preston had also received information privately from anCurran, Corrigan, pp. 296–297. AANY, Burtsell, Diary, October 24, 1889. 20 Ibid., October 25 and 26, 1889. 21 AANY, C-24, Preston to Corrigan, October 27, 1889. 18 19 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 628 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR other source that “an intimate friend and tenant”of Miss Kelly “knew for a fact that she had attended meetings of the Anti-Poverty Society.”22 Perhaps because he had some doubt about Preston’s objectivity, Corrigan also solicited information about Miss Kelly from a civil attorney, William Hildreth Field. Field’s investigation verified that Miss Kelly had indeed attended the meeting of the Society shortly before her death, but it also unearthed information that put Burtsell’s action in a completely different light. Two witnesses told Field that: after the death of Miss Kelly, Miss Marie Shields [her friend], went for Dr. B., and that he then came to the house, No. 67 East 12th Street, and that Dr. B. asked them all particularly as to whether Miss Kelly attended the AntiPoverty Society meeting on the previous Sunday night, after teaching in his Sunday School in the afternoon, and those told him an untruth, and said that Miss Kelly was not at the meeting Sunday night. . . .23 Thus Burtsell did investigate whether Kelly had attended the forbidden meetings.Although he was given misinformation, it appears that he acted in good faith. Nevertheless, two weeks later, after having received this information from Field, Corrigan told the archdiocesan consultors that the “matter [had] been taken into his own hands while pending before the vicar general and was a cause of public scandal.”24 Two days later Corrigan informed Burtsell that he was thinking of removing him from the Church of the Epiphany and reassigning him to a county parish that was “provided with all that is necessary to equip a good parish.”25 Four days before Christmas, on December 21, 1889, Burtsell received official word from Corrigan that he indeed intended to transfer him from Epiphany to the Church of St. Mary’s in Rondout near Kingston, New York, a Hudson River town 100 miles north of New York City.“I shall be at home on Monday and Tuesday mornings of next week,and at your service, if you wish to see me,” he added.26 Corrigan was now fulfilling the words of his earlier threat that he was not through with Burtsell. AANY, G-84, Miller to Preston, November 1, 1889. AANY, G-57, Field to Corrigan, November 22, 1889. 24 AANY, Minutes of the Meetings of the Archdiocesan Consultors, December 4, 1889. 25 AANY, Burtsell, Diary, December 6, 1889. 26 AANY, G-84, Corrigan to Burtsell, December 21, 1889. Burtsell was not a “permanent rector,” a category set up by the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore (1884), which meant he could be transferred at the will of the ordinary. See Florence D. Cohalan, A Popular History of the Archdiocese of New York (Yonkers, 1983), p. 134. 22 23 BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 629 Burtsell wasted no time in responding to Corrigan’s threat of removal and quickly sent an appeal to Propaganda Fide through his Roman agent, Canon Carlo Menghini. Thus, when Corrigan’s second letter arrived, which actuated the earlier threat, Burtsell responded respectfully but firmly that he had no intention of leaving Epiphany without a fight. “Most Reverend Archbishop,”he told him,“I must earnestly protest your attempt to transfer me to the Rectorship of St. Mary’s Church, Rondout, as a violation of my appeal to the S[acred] Congregation of the Propaganda.”Burtsell went on to say that he would not impede any substitute that Corrigan might send to replace him as pastor of Epiphany, but he would not accept a new assignment.27 At the same time Burtsell fired off his official letter of protest to Giovanni Cardinal Simeoni, Prefect of Propganda Fide, protesting this move by Corrigan describing it as “un aggravio sommo inguistissimo.”28 Preston apparently feared that Corrigan would not be sufficiently firm with Burtsell. He piously told the archbishop on December 22 that “the whole day yesterday I was praying to the H[oly] Ghost to guide you and I feel sure that he has answered the prayers.”29 Burtsell continued to claim that his appeal to Propaganda automatically suspended Corrigan’s removal of him as pastor. Preston rejected this claim and urged Corrigan to reject it also, warning him: If he calls to see you I fear that he will reiterate his views & positively refuse to obey you. He has been in this attitude of despite for some time. Every act has been contumacious—his openly sympathizing with McGlynn—His article in the Tablet—His action in the Maguire case—His publicly approving the Anti-Poverty Society condemned by his ordinary. Your course has been [one] of extreme patience & kindness. I fear that he will never change nor make apology until sickness and death come to open his eyes.30 Preston invoked a list of miscellaneous offenses allegedly committed by Burtsell in his effort to shore up Corrigan’s decision to proceed against AANY, Burtsell, Diary, December 23, 1889. Archives of the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples [formerly, Propaganda Fide] (hereafter, ACEP), Scritture riferite nei congressi, Vol. 56, fols. 181–182, Burtsell to Simeoni,December 20,1889.I am indebted to Professor Rocco Pallone of the Department of Modern Languages in Fordham University for helping with its translation. Along with this document an additional forty pages of letters and texts dealing with the Burtsell Affair are grouped together in these archives.I am indebted to the Reverend David Nolan for obtaining for me in Rome this collection of Propaganda Fide documents, which I used in the research and writing of this essay. 29 AANY, C-24, Preston to Corrigan, December 22, 1889. 30 Ibid. 27 28 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 630 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR him. Preston’s style was sycophantic as he both praised Corrigan for his past benevolence toward Burtsell and now urged him to take swift and severe action against the rebellious priest. Preston feared that, if Corrigan hesitated,the clever Burtsell would instigate a lengthy canonical appeal in Rome that could delay or stop his removal from Epiphany.“I am praying for light in the case of B[urtsell],”he assured the archbishop and predicted that if Corrigan acted swiftly, “Rome would surely support you.”31 Although Burtsell had appealed Corrigan’s order to leave Epiphany, he nevertheless anticipated the worst. Two days after Christmas he began packing his books and looking for storage space for his furniture. However, on December 27, Corrigan unexpectedly told Burtsell that he had agreed to leave his transfer in abeyance until his case had been heard properly in Rome.32 To the chagrin of Monsignor Preston, Burtsell had won round one. IV. The Appeal to Rome It was Burtsell’s misfortune that Corrigan made a trip to the Holy Land in 1890,and on the way there,stopped in Rome to present his side of the case personally to the authorities at Propaganda Fide. It was Burtsell’s further misfortune that the person administering the archdiocese in Corrigan’s absence was none other than Monsignor Preston, who was even more adamantly opposed to him and McGlynn than Corrigan had been. Preston now set to work to make sure that the sanctions initiated against Burtsell would be implemented.33 Apparently Preston feared that Corrigan would not be sufficiently persuasive in his arguments against Burtsell, and so he quickly lent a helping hand early in January, 1890, when he wrote a confidential note to Archbishop Domenico Jacobini, the Secretary of Propaganda Fide. The letter is replete with charges against Burtsell and his friends (foreAANY, C-24, Preston to Corrigan, December 28, 1889. AANY, G-84, Corrigan to Burtsell, December 27, 1889. 33 In late February, 1890, Simeoni responded to Burtsell’s December, 1889, request for a delay in his transfer. Simeoni wrote that unfortunately he was unable to meet with Archbishop Corrigan to discuss the matter when the latter was recently in Rome since Corrigan “e subito ripartito per Gerusalemme . . .” However, the cardinal promised he would meet with Corrigan upon his return from the Holy Land. (ACEP, Lettere e Decreti della Sacra Congregazione e Biglietti di Monsignor Segretario, Vol. 39, fol. 746, Simeoni to Burtsell, February 21, 1890). I am indebted to Father Isacsson for telling me of the existence of documents relating to Burtsell in these archives for the years 1889–1891. 31 32 BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 631 most among them, of course, McGlynn) as malcontents working against the Holy See in a common effort to “Americanize” the Church. Preston opened his tome with a disclaimer that would raise the eyebrows of any serious investigator. He assured Jacobini,“Although I speak to you confidentially and unofficially, you may rely on every statement which I shall make.”34 Preston argued throughout the letter that Corrigan’s move was an effort to safeguard orthodoxy in New York, for Burtsell was responsible for “so much harm both publicly and privately in the City of New York.” Preston admitted that Burtsell had a right to appeal his transfer by Corrigan, but after hearing all the crimes perpetrated by Burtsell, he was certain that Jacobini would come down on the side of Corrigan. On page two of his letter, Preston put forth a litany of charges against Burtsell.“There have been for many years,” he said, a few priests in New York (and thank God they are only a few), who are really disloyal to the Holy See.They minimize all the declarations of His Holiness.They were opposed to the Infallibility until its definition and now are disposed to make it as little as possible consistent with a profession of faith . . . They have spoken of saying Mass in the English language, of doing away with vestments and ceremonies prescribed by the Church, of getting rid of what they call medieval customs and obsolete practices, and of Americanizing the Catholic Church here and adapting it to our liberal and republican institutions.35 Preston ended his letter to Jacobini with a postscript stating,“The Archbishop knows nothing of this letter.” In February, 1890, Burtsell asked Cardinal Simeoni for a “statement of the charges made by Abp. Corrigan against me.”36 In early March Burtsell received a letter from the Prefect “acknowledging the receipt of my appeal or ‘ricorso’ from removal from the parish of ‘S. Epifania’ and saying that he wished to have a talk with Mgr. Corrigan who on his arrival left immediately for Jerusalem.”37 Burtsell was convinced that Corrigan was working furiously to have his appeal denied. Burtsell wrote in his diary,“[I] told the Doctor [McGlynn] the present phase of my relations 34 AANY, G-84, Preston to Jacobini, January 2, 1890. The original document was partly typewritten and partly handwritten. 35 Ibid. Preston’s explanation of the views held by members of the Accademia corresponds closely with that of Professor Curran, who relied on Burtsell’s diary for his research. 36 AANY, Burtsell, Diary, February 14, 1890. 37 Ibid., March 8, 1890. This was in response to Burtsell’s appeal sent on December 6, 1889. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 632 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR with Abp. Corrigan who is now moving every stone to obtain my exit from Epiphany.”38 On April 14, 1890, Burtsell received a progress report from Rome. As he recorded in his diary: I got a letter from Canon Menghini giving me the gist of Abp. Corrigan’s accusations: he says he is disinclined to use odious measures but his consultors insist upon his sending to a distance one who is the center and focus of opposition to authority; and that I and my adherents have shown a quasicontempt for the Propaganda admonitions. Canon Menghini says that in Rome—he who sticks wins! He wishes me to stick: he wishes to interview Abp. Corrigan.39 Back in the United States, Burtsell sought the help of James Cardinal Gibbons of Baltimore. On May 6, 1890, he met with Gibbons in New York City, explained his case to him, and asked for his help in the matter. Gibbons told Burtsell that he was already being criticized by other bishops for being too favorable to McGlynn and Burtsell and involving himself in the affairs of other dioceses.40 Displaying his usual caution, Gibbons later politely declined to become involved in the case. He explained that he would not interfere in Burtsell’s case and was returning documents which Burtsell had just recently forwarded to him.41 In the meantime from New York, Preston kept Corrigan informed of the events back home. In a series of almost weekly letters, Preston sent a barrage of ammunition against Burtsell, continually reminding Corrigan of the urgency of the “Burtsell Affair.” On January 31, 1890, he passed a report from Ella Edes (a convert newspaper reporter and sometime Roman agent for Corrigan) that “Cardinal Simeoni fears another McGlynn case.”42 A week later in a letter filled with snippets of diocesan gossip, Preston wrote:“Doctor Burtsell is very quiet as far as I know.”43 Seemingly this silence both intrigued and unnerved the vicar general, for in April he told Corrigan: I presume he [Burtsell] will hardly venture to Rome without informing me or obtaining leave from the Cardinal Prefect. If the Sacred Congregation could be well aware of the necessity of decisive measures for the good of religion they would not hesitate. We can only pray to God to illumine their Ibid., April 10, 1890. Ibid., May 6, 1890. 40 Ibid. 41 Archives of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, 87 P5, Gibbons to Burtsell, June 10, 1890. Canon Carlo Menghini was Burtsell’s Roman agent. 42 AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, January 31, 1890. 43 AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, February 7, 1890. 38 39 BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 633 souls. A serious blow must be struck to the root of this rebellion and unless it be struck, the evil existing will increase until it would be hard to control it. To send Dr. B. to some city parish would do very little good. He would gather about him the same interest and his influence would be nearly as great for evil as it is now. I am anxiously awaiting news in regard to the whole matter.44 In less than a week he again fulminated: I can only again say that if the Sacred Congregation does not act decisively now they strike a blow and a very serious one against all episcopal authority in this diocese. It is really high time that this circle of Liberalists should receive a proper discipline.45 Two days later he continued the volley saying:“There is no possibility of compromise.”46 Shortly thereafter Preston again wrote to Corrigan, urging him to stay in Rome “until the matter be settled.”47 And lest absence assuage Corrigan’s view of Burtsell, Preston reminded him:“New York leads the country and Liberalism should be put down here. I have felt this for many years.”48 In the middle of June he sent the archbishop a telegram in lapidary Latin: “Remotio appellantis a civitate absolute necessaria.”49 In Preston’s mind there was no doubt. Burtsell had to be removed from New York City swiftly and permanently. V. Rome Responds When Burtsell finally received an answer to his appeal, it was not the response he had expected or hoped for. On July 14, 1890, a telegram from Rome curtly informed him that he would be suspended unless he made a full submission to Corrigan, the terms of which were then to be approved by Propaganda Fide. The response from Rome also included the stipulation that Burtsell should send no documents to Rome to further argue his case. If he failed to comply with this decision, he would be known as a “confessed criminal.”50 Within a month Burtsell left the AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, April 16, 1890. AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, April 22, 1890. 46 AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, April 24, 1890. 47 AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, May 5, 1890. 48 AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, May 20, 1890. 49 AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, June 6, 1890. 50 In his diary, Burtsell recorded that he received a telegram informing him that he was to submit immediately to Corrigan or be suspended.(AANY,Burtsell,Diary, July 14 and 17, 1890). A letter dated July 8, 1890, followed this telegram giving the specific instructions for his submission (ACEP, Lettere e Decreti,Vol. 39, fol. (not numbered),“From the Fathers of the Congregation for His Eminence [Cardinal Simeoni] to Burtsell, July 8, 1890). 44 45 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 634 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR Church of the Epiphany for good. After a brief vacation and visits with relatives, on November 8, 1890, he made his way to Rondout to assume his new position. Corrigan and Preston had won round two. Basking in their victory, Preston wrote:“The H[oly] See has not only condemned B[urtsell] but his disciples and his actions. This will do more for religion than one can estimate. I hope it will crush the liberal error.” Preston hoped that Burtsell would submit to Propaganda’s demands,“though I have some doubts,” he added,“as in his opinions he is so stubborn.”51 Not everyone in New York shared in Preston’s glee over Burtsell’s removal. On July 31, 1890, Burtsell celebrated Mass for the last time at Epiphany, and late in the afternoon, a crowd gathered at the rectory on East Twenty-first Street as close friends came by to wish him farewell. Some were even seen to be sobbing as he entered a carriage to make his way to the train station.52 On August 10 Burtsell returned to Manhattan for a formal farewell reception held in his honor at Chickering Hall.The crowd that turned out to fete him included many members of the Anti-Poverty Society. They cheered as Burtsell entered the auditorium and applauded as speaker after speaker lauded their much-maligned friend. Finally Burtsell himself spoke. He thanked the guests for their support and affection, mentioned how proud he was to have worked with the poor instead of with the privileged, and urged the crowd to remain steadfast in the faith.53 Unlike McGlynn, Burtsell seemed not to want to incite further unrest among those for whom he had worked so hard. A man of principle, and perhaps too much of a gentleman even to appear to be a rabblerouser, he preferred the ways of the lawyer to those of the demagogue.54 Public support and affection were not enough to win the day for Burtsell. His unwavering, but unlucky, friendship with McGlynn brought about his downfall. A long dossier compiled for Propaganda Fide, which attempts to give reasons for Burtsell’s removal, lists his friendship with McGlynn as the chief cause for Corrigan’s removal of AANY, C-25, Preston to Corrigan, July 18, 1890. New York Times, August 1, 1890. 53 New York Times, August 11, 1890. 54 In addition to support at home, Canon Menghini wrote to Burtsell pledging his continued help using these strong (and militaristic) words: “Intanto coi sensi di alta stima, e pronto ai suoi comandi, mi rassegno.” (ACEP, Scritture riferite nei congressi, Vol. 56, fols. 188–189, Menghini to Burtsell, July 23, 1890). 51 52 BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 635 him.55 Although the author is anonymous, this report clearly reflects the arguments of Burtsell’s critics. The report opens: The reason for Fr. Burtsell’s transfer from the Church of the Epiphany in N.Y. to another parish in one of the other cities of the Diocese, may be summarized by the following reasons: that is to say that Fr. Burtsell is known to be by the public, the clergy and the faithful of N.Y. not only as a personal friend of Fr. McGlynn, but also as two or three of those few unhappy priests who, more or less, support McGlynn, and as the main counselor, defender and supporter of the same. All this is a cause of scandal to the priests and the laity.56 This document also contains a series of accusations against Burtsell. He is criticized for friendship with a group of priests (including McGlynn) who worked for the “Americanization of the Catholic Church in the United States,” and it is alleged that Burtsell fraternized with and “participated in, more or less, the liberal ideas of that group.” Burtsell was also accused of the following crimes: opposition to the temporal power of the pope; opposition to the “scholastic system of the parish [sic]”57; and his support of the use of the English language and secular dress in the celebration of the liturgy.58 On August 25, 1890, Burtsell attended the annual retreat with his fellow New York priests at St. Joseph’s Provincial Seminary, in Troy, New York. On August 30 Preston came to visit the retreatants and celebrated Mass, and Burtsell commented that he received communion from the vicar general. After the service, the two spoke: I met him [Preston] casually after breakfast: he told me that he would get the originals of the documents on the Abp.’s return. I told him that I wished them; though I had my answer to the Propaganda before I left the Epiphany accepting its requirements. He thanked God, saying that this was an answer 55 ACEP,Scritture riferite nei congressi,Vol.56,fols.197–228.This document is undated, but from its contents, it can be inferred that it was written sometime in 1891. 56 Ibid., fol. 197. 57 The Third Plenary Council of Baltimore (1884) mandated that each parish operate a school. 58 ACEP, Lettere e Decreti, Vol. 370, fols. 599rv–600r, Propaganda Fide to McCloskey, December 3, 1874. This report cites a previous report sent to Propaganda Fide in 1874 in which these transgressions were first imputed against Burtsell. This document is catalogued in Anton Debevec (compiler); Mathias C. Kiemen, O.F.M., and James McManamon, O.F.M. (eds.), United States Documents in the Propaganda Fide Archives: A Calendar, Vol. XI (Washington, D.C., 1987), #281. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 636 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR to his prayers for me, and hoped that everything would be as before. I hoped so!59 On November 8 Burtsell went to Rondout to assume his new pastorate, and his long dispute with Corrigan came to a close. V. Conclusion Within a year of Burtsell’s final defeat and move to Rondout, Preston was dead. However, one month before his death, he published an article in the American Catholic Quarterly Review criticizing proponents of an American brand of Catholicism and the “heterodox” implications of such a position. Preston reviewed some of the burning issues facing the Church in the second half of the nineteenth century such as religious freedom and the relationship between church and state and argued against the “heretical” opinions held by some in the American Catholic Church in regard to these topics.For Preston the temporal power of the papacy was a sine qua non of papal primacy.“His [the Pope’s] temporal principality is not an open question. It cannot be looked upon as a thing of the past,” Preston warned American Catholics and went on to tell them that they must use “every legitimate means” to restore the Pope’s temporal jurisdiction in the former Papal States.60 He also denounced separation of church and state, calling it a “grave error.” A few years later in language strikingly similar to Preston’s, Pope Leo XIII also condemned many of the same opinions as “erroneous” in his encyclical to the American hierarchy, Longinqua Oceani, dated January 6, 1895.61 Four years after that, Leo issued Testem Benevolentiae, an apostolic letter dated January 22, 1899, and addressed to Cardinal Gibbons (but meant for the entire American Catholic Church). In this Leo rejected a series of opinions he felt were popular with some American Catholics.Toward the end of the letter Leo lamented that “there are several among you who conceive of and desire a church in America different from that which is in the rest of the world.”62 In his earlier article Preston too had warned of a notorious cabal who believed that “in this country [America] there is a peculiar kind of Catholicity which is in adAANY, Burtsell, Diary, August 30, 1890. Thomas S. Preston,“American Catholicity,”The American Catholic Quarterly Review, XVI (October, 1891), 404–405. 61 John Tracy Ellis (ed.),Documents of American Catholic History (3 vols.; Wilmington, Delaware, 1987), II, 504. 62 Ibid., p. 546. 59 60 BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 637 vance of the old nations of the world.”63 From the use of similar language, Leo and Preston were clearly of one mind in regard to the controversies of the period. Unfortunately for Preston, he did not live to see the full vindication of his opinions held in the promulgation of Leo’s two pronouncements, but history shows Preston to have been on the side of the victors, even if posthumously. On December 23, 1892, Archbishop Francesco Satolli, the Apostolic Delegate in the United States, lifted the excommunication against McGlynn. Some thought that now Rome might also reconsider its sanctions against Burtsell.Burtsell’s supporters quickly started up a petition, and in May, 1893, the New York Times claimed they submitted to Satolli a petition containing 50,000 signatures!64 In September there was an unverified report in the New York Times that Satolli had requested Corrigan to reconsider Burtsell’s removal, and that the New York Archbishop had rejected the request, citing Propaganda’s earlier decision and his wish not to interfere.65 One month later Burtsell set sail for to Rome, but it is unclear whether or not this was a last-ditch effort to regain his parish. Burtsell’s diary entries during his Roman sojourn provide detailed accounts of his meetings with various Roman authorities. Immediately upon reaching Rome he met with Monsignor Denis O’Connell, rector of the North American College (and agent of the Americanist bishops), who over the next few months gave strong support to Burtsell, advising him how to handle his case. On the heels of his meeting with O’Connell he then met with Mariano Cardinal Rampolla, Secretary of State, who had previously received a letter of introduction from Satolli for Burtsell.66 After a long interview Rampolla promised to obtain an audience with the Pope for Burtsell. A few days later he met with Miecislaus Cardinal Ledochowski, Prefect of Propaganda Fide, and told him how Corrigan had acted duplicitously with him, saying one thing and doing another. Burtsell commented that Ledochowski “winced when I said this.”67 Burtsell waited for weeks to see the pope, brooking Byzantine intrigue as Leo played cat and mouse with him, telling Ledochowski and others that he was reviewing documents written by Burtsell and would see him soon. Wearied of the waitPreston, op. cit., p. 408. New York Times, May 26, 1893. 65 New York Times, September 17, 1893. 66 AANY, Burtsell, Diary, October 28, 1893. 67 Ibid., October 31, 1893. 63 64 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 638 “THE CUNNING LEADER OF A DANGEROUS CLIQUE”? THE BURTSELL AFFAIR ing, in early February, 1894, Burtsell made a trip to Egypt, Palestine, and Asia Minor and was absent from Rome for over a month.68 The diary ends abruptly on May 13, 1894, and does not resume again until March 1, 1895. Thus, there is no record extant of his final weeks in Rome and other attempts he may have made to plead his case. Burtsell never did get the opportunity to present his case personally to the pope. Instead he dealt with various high-ranking Roman officials and worked on various memorials (reports) for the pope on the condition of labor in the United States in relation to Leo’s famous encyclical on labor, Rerum Novarum (1891). Undoubtedly, he would have preferred to meet with the Pope personally rather than with Curial officials. In a newspaper account published the day after he returned from Rome, Burtsell stated that he “did not go there with any idea or intention of demanding or asking [for] my return to the Church of the Epiphany” from the Pope.69 However, the vehemence of his protestations calls into question the sincerity of his claims. In a newspaper interview published in July, 1890, shortly after Burtsell received his first negative verdict from Rome, an unnamed New York priest described the stark difference in the way Burtsell and McGlynn responded to official directives.“Now, Dr. Burtsell will undoubtedly submit gracefully,” predicted this cleric, and he went on to conjecture that Burtsell would be rewarded for his acquiescence. Drawing out the glaring differences between the modus operandi of Burtsell and McGlynn, the priest declared that, if his prediction about Burtsell proved to be correct, Catholics would see how McGlynn’s defiance to the bishop would lead to ostracization,excommunication,and dishonor while Burtsell’s “meekness” and submission to episcopal authority would lead to rewards and honors.70 Time showed the priest’s prediction to be accurate. John Murphy Farley, auxiliary bishop under Corrigan, became Archbishop of New York after Corrigan’s death in May, 1902, and in 1904 returned from a trip to Rome with papal honors for several New York priests, among them Richard L. Burtsell, who was made a domestic prelate. By so doing Farley tried to placate several priests (including former members of the Accademia) who had become disaffected during the McGlynn affair. John 68 Ibid., February 9, 1893. He never did meet with the pope personally; yet his recordings of his time in Rome are an excellent source for the Curial procedures of the Vatican and its officials for the period. 69 New York Times, September 6, 1894. 70 New York Times, July 13, 1890. BY ANTHONY D. ANDREASSI 639 Talbot Smith marveled at the number of New York priests who had been made monsignori and quoted one clerical wag as saying that Farley’s selective beneficence had made “one-half his clergy purple and the other half blue.”71 Unlike McGlynn, who played the demagogue, Burtsell always acted deliberately and according to the dictates of church law. His legal and moral advocacy for his friend McGlynn cost him dearly,the loss of Epiphany Parish being the most serious of several blows he suffered. Burtsell, a man of principle and strong beliefs, held fast to his friends and his convictions. Both his friend McGlynn and his nemesis Archbishop Corrigan were vindicated in their own lifetimes, McGlynn when Archbishop Satolli lifted the imposed excommunication and Corrigan when Rome came firmly on his side against Burtsell. Burtsell experienced somewhat of a vindication when he was made a monsignor by Farley, but his real ambition—to be restored to Epiphany Parish— was never realized. However, some might say that his real vindication came decades after his death when the Second Vatican Council approved a vernacular liturgy—an innovation that Burtsell and his friends had been advocating a century earlier. Richard Burtsell was a faithful priest who combined obedience to ecclesiastical authority with a stubborn streak of American-style independence. He was never willing to give up his right to speak his mind and believed this right was part of both the American and Catholic traditions. He spoke his convictions freely and paid a heavy price for it, but he should be remembered most of all for his thoughtful and measured actions in difficult and unfair circumstances in a time when backroom intrigue or demagoguery was a more common approach for some American priests and bishops. Whatever Burtsell was, he was certainly not the cunning leader of a dangerous clique. 71 John Talbot Smith, The Catholic Church in New York: A History of New York from its Establishment in 1808 to the Present Time, Vol. II (New York, 1905), p. 598. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 REVISITING THE HOLY MAN REVIEW ARTICLE BY JOHN HOWE Charisma and Society: The 25th Anniversary of Peter Brown’s Analysis of the Late Antique Holy Man.Conference Held at the University of California at Berkeley, March 13–16, 1997. Edited by Susanna Elm and Naomi Janowitz. (Published in Journal of Early Christian Studies, 6 [1998], 343–539.) The Cult of the Saints in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages: Essays on the Contribution of Peter Brown. Edited by James Howard-Johnston and Paul Antony Hayward. (New York: Oxford University Press. 1999. Pp. x, 298. $74.00.) To launch a thousand ships in academia you need a creative synthetic insight that is only about half-right. Whereas a perfect new perspective would be a dead end, those hypotheses that can be verified, falsified, and supplemented are what give rise to epic scholarly battles. Among the examples that might be invoked are Lynn White, Jr., on medieval technology, Marshall McLuhan on media, Philippe Ariès on childhood, and perhaps Peter Brown on the holy man. Brown, Rollins Professor of History at Princeton University, is the most eminent historian of late antiquity. In his Augustine of Hippo (1967),he offered a literarily brilliant and insightful human image of Augustine which has not been displaced by several excellent later biographies. His World of Late Antiquity (1971), more than any other single book,gave life to what had been seen as a stodgy and decadent world. But the essay collections reviewed here were prompted neither by those masterpieces nor by Brown’s other distinguished books but by a single twenty-one-page article which somehow, in the words of Susanna Elm, one of the editors of Charisma and Society,“effected a paradigm shift” (p. 343). “The Rise and Function of the Holy Man in Late Antiquity” [hereafter RFHM] was published in 1971 in The Journal of Roman Studies.1 At that time its sub1 Peter Brown,“The Rise and Function of the Holy Man in Late Antiquity,” The Journal of Roman Studies, 61 (1971), 80–101. Reprinted with some additional notes in his Society and the Holy in Late Antiquity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982), pp. 103–152. 640 BY JOHN HOWE 641 ject matter appeared unpromising. Radical Christian ascetics, including such saints as Simeon Stylites (d. 459), who lived on a pillar for thirty-seven years, repelled many Christian scholars who preferred to marginalize them as misguided representatives of popular religiosity. They did receive attention, but no sympathy, from scholars hostile to the ancient Church such as Edward Gibbon, who deplored this “swarm of fanatics, incapable of fear, or reason, or humanity.”2 The accomplishment of RFHM was to move to center stage the “holy man” (note the fashionable semantic shift from the ecclesiastical, legal term “saint” to the more phenomenological, anthropologically oriented “holy man”) and to claim positive social functions for him. Brown saw him as an “icon” who brought the holy into the world, a hinge person mediating between God and man, between greater and lesser traditions, between greater and lesser patrons, and, indeed, between all sorts of combatants in a demon-ridden world that suffered crises of prosperity and freedom. To the “average late Roman” of the Greek East the divine would have been brought to earth not so much by relics, by bishops, or even by the emperor himself as by the holy man. Debates over this vision have shaped much subsequent research. Now, more than a quarter-century later, two volumes of papers attempt to measure the impact of RFHM: from Berkeley, where Brown worked from 1978 to 1983 (officially to 1986) comes a group of conference papers,prefaced by an essay by Brown himself on “The Rise and Function of the Holy Man in Late Antiquity, 1971–1997” (pp. 353–376); from Oxford, forsaken by Brown for those greener pastures, comes an allegedly independent retrospective.3 But these are not Festschriften offering unalloyed homages to the master. Although the individual papers frequently acknowledge their debts to Peter Brown, almost all marginalize and sometimes even demolish his original methods and conclusions in RFHM. Brown’s attempt to situate actual holy men into real social contexts is attacked by scholars who argue that historians know hagiographical constructions, not saints. In the introduction to the Berkeley collection, Elm, having faulted Brown for “a steady disregard” of the concerns of authors and audiences, claims,“The essays in this volume balance this trend. It is now the author who emerges as full-blooded, and the power of the saint as a fully textual persona is explored” (p. 349). Its first group of essays on “Reading Texts” includes Mark Vessey,“The Demise of the Christian Writer and the Remaking of ‘Late Antiquity’: From H.-I. Marrou’s Saint Augustine (1938) to Peter Brown’s Holy Man (1983)” (pp. 377–411); Elizabeth A. Clark’s “Holy Women, Holy Words: Early Christian Women, Social History, and the ‘Linguistic Turn’” (pp. 413–430); ClauEdward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, chap. xxxvii. The tone of surprise in the claim of the Oxford volume’s introduction that while its editors were “applying the finishing editorial touches to this book, the Fall 1998 fascicle of volume 6 of the Journal of Early Christian Studies appeared on the shelves of the Bodleian Library” appears a little disingenuous inasmuch as Claudia Rapp,an Oxford graduate working at UCLA, contributed to both. 2 3 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 642 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 REVISITING THE HOLY MAN dia Rapp’s “Storytelling as Spiritual Communication in Early Greek Hagiography: The Use of Diegesis” (p. 431–448);and Naomi Janowitz’s “Rabbis and Their Opponents: The Construction of the Min in Rabbinic Anecdotes” (pp. 449– 462). The Oxford collection has a similar theme: Averil Cameron’s “On Defining the Holy Man,” while examining the afterlife of Brown’s original article, concludes,“For late antiquity, at least, the focus has moved from the anthropological approach of the ‘Holy Man’to the study of discourse” (pp. 27–43,esp. p. 41). Philip Rousseau’s “Ascetics as Mediators and as Teachers” similarly focuses on rhetorical images, arguing that “fundamental problems are caused by the way Brown handled texts generally” (pp. 45–59,esp. 46). The papers on “The Cult of Saints in Eastern Christendom” continue this theme: Claudia Rapp’s “‘For Next to God,You Are My Salvation’: Reflections on the Rise of the Holy Man in Late Antiquity” offers a possible partial antidote to problems inherent in bioi by looking at ascetical epistolography (pp. 63–81); Paul Magdalino’s “‘What We Heard in the Lives of the Saints We Have Seen with Our Own Eyes’: The Holy Man as Literary Text in Tenth-Century Constantinople” insists most strongly on the opacity of hagiographical texts, explaining the themes of the life of Andrew the Fool in a tenth-century context far removed from its allegedly fifth-century subject (pp. 83–112). The shift from studying the saints themselves to studying hagiographical rhetoric has many merits, but other papers in these collections, and even some of these papers themselves, undercut it when they implicitly accept the holy man as an object of study. In the Berkeley conference papers, see, for example, Maude Gleason’s “Visiting and News: Gosssip and ReputationManagement in the Desert” (pp. 501–521). Other criticisms center on the RFHM’s excessive foregrounding of the holy man. In the Berkeley collection Brown himself admits, “I now consider that I underestimated the role of the Christian church itself and of pious Christian notables, whether clergymen or lay men and women, as a separate stratum of the village world around the holy man” (p. 372). The point is made there in more detail in Susan Ashbrook Harvey’s “The Stylite’s Liturgy: Ritual and Religious Identity in Late Antiquity” (pp. 523–539). In the Oxford collection, Paul Antony Hayward’s “Demystifying the Role of Sanctity in Western Christendom” (pp. 115–142) claims that in the West saint cults were less central and less authoritative than Brown and his hagiographical sources suggested. Other papers seek to extend Brown’s story of the holy man. The problematic position of “elite” holy men is suggested in the Berkeley conference papers in Neil McLynn’s “A Self-Made Holy Man: The Case of Gregory Nazianzen” (pp. 463–483). The Oxford volume takes particular pride in placing the holy man into wider geographical and chronological contexts. Brown’s suggestion that Western bishops, more than their Eastern counterparts, had gained control over sanctity by controlling relics, has aspects followed up in Paul Fouracre’s “The Origins of the Carolingian Attempt to Regulate the Cult of Saints” (pp. 143– 165) and in Ian N. Wood’s “The Missionary Life” (pp. 167–183). The Holy man in Russia is elucidated in Paul A. Hollingsworth’s “Holy Men and the Transforma- BY JOHN HOWE 643 tion of Political Space in Medieval Rus’” (pp. 187–213);and in Richard M. Price’s “The Holy Man and Christianization from the Apocryphal Apostles to St. Stephen of Perm” (pp. 215–238). The holy man in Islam appears in Chase Robinson’s “Prophecy and Holy Men in Early Islam” (pp. 241–262) and in Josef W. Meri’s “The Etiquette of Devotion in the Islamic Cult of Saints” (pp. 263–286). Peter Brown himself appears to concur with many of the criticisms and addenda. He has continually returned to the problem of the holy man, modifying and reshaping him in various ways.4 Several of his later books can be construed as efforts to answer questions raised by RFHM.5 He will present the “Holy Man” in volume 14 of the Cambridge Ancient History. Given all this subsequent development, it is not surprising that Brown, in his essay preceding the Berkeley collection, does not so much defend RFHM as contextualize it, explaining in detail the ways in which it was the product of very particular cultural and personal situations in which he found himself at the end of the 1960’s. He presents RFHM as a work that was necessarily preliminary and incomplete, uninformed by the “new age” of late antique studies which followed. Brown’s deferrals may be excessively gracious. The linguistic turn can deconstruct much of RFHM, but it can deconstruct most other historical projects as well. Historians questing for the grail of knowledge of objective historical, non-literary reality (albeit recognizing that it is no more fully attainable in this dimension than the beatific vision itself) will remain admirers of Brown’s bold sympathetic attempt to place the holy man into a concrete social context. Moreover, it was the decision to treat the holy man as a non-textual symbol that was responsible for much of the RFHM’s success. It is permeated with the anthropology of Mary Douglas, whose conversations with Brown anticipated the appearance of her Natural Symbols (1970), in which she elucidated the crosscultural symbolic significance of the ascetic. Texts describing the holy man do not create him—they are elite attempts to translate his image into verbal form, manipulating it certainly but reflecting it nonetheless. The paper giving most recognition to the saint as icon is Teresa Shaw’s “Askesis and the Appearance of 4 “The Saint as Exemplar in Late Antiquity,” Representations, 1 (1983), 1–25, esp. p. 12 note 59, which cites related studies. “Arbiters of the Holy: The Christian Holy Man in Late Antiquity,” in Authority and the Sacred: Aspects of the Christianization of the Roman World (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995), pp. 55–78, 85–87. 5 The Making of Late Antiquity (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1978) analyzes the nature of the holy and the roles of “friends of God.” The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1981) attacks the separation of elite and popular religion that had played a major role in marginalizing the holy man. Society and the Holy in Late Antiquity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982) contains an updated version of RFHM and several related studies. The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988) treats aspects of the holy man’s motivations and of how he entered into his role. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 644 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 REVISITING THE HOLY MAN Holiness” (pp. 485–499), one of the Berkeley presentations, which describes the ascetic as being constructed not only rhetorically but also through training and self-fashioning. There is still more to say here. Even thirty years later, Brown’s “Holy Man” remains a stimulating piece. Texas Tech University BOOK REVIEWS General Women and Faith: Catholic Religious Life in Italy from Late Antiquity to the Present. Edited by Lucetta Scaraffia and Gabriella Zarri. (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. 1999. Pp. vi, 378. $59.95.) The sixteen essays in this volume span the period from the fourth to the twentieth century and focus on the relationship of women with the Catholic Church, its institutions and teachings. Although the authors, most of whom are Italian, primarily deal with Italy, they cast their nets widely. The history of women in one part of Europe thus becomes paradigmatic for more general problems implicit in the tensions between the male hierarchy and specifically female devotions and imagery. Collectively, the essays pose several central questions: did the Catholic Church throughout its history offer women possibilities of participating in its culture? Further, how much room existed for the development of specifically female forms of spirituality in a religion with a male divinity? What was the meaning of the Pauline vision of spiritual equality among all Christians? The essays explore some of these issues. They begin with a survey of early medieval female asceticism and monasticism and a sketch of the idea of mystical marriage. “Society and Women’s Religiosity, 750–1450,” by Giulia Barone is more meaty, especially in the connections it establishes between female religiosity and periods of crisis. Heretical movements that included women were one response, but so was the leadership of figures like Saint Catherine of Siena, whose religiosity had a distinctively political dimension, or Saint Francesca Romana, a model of a new “urban” saint. Dominique Rigaux’s essay on the portrayal of saintly women in art offers some surprises, especially in her discussion of frescoes commissioned by women. For example, in the refectory of the bizzoche in Foligno we find a busy Martha depicted in her kitchen and given greater eminence than Mary. The author convincingly links iconography with the turn toward the active life among late medieval women. Another and quite different piece on images of women is the last in the volume. It deals with the at times ambiguous portrayal of nuns and saints in modern cinema and makes for good reading. The essay that in a way sets the tone of the whole volume is Gabriella Zarri’s “From Prophecy to Discipline, 1450 to 1650,” a masterful survey by an eminent scholar of women’s religious history. It summarizes a vast amount of recent re- 645 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 646 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS search and organizes it firmly in support of her thesis that the Council of Trent truly initiated a new era for women. While some women in the late Middle Ages had the freedom of prophets and were able to urge reform of the Church and the papacy, the Tridentine decrees resulted in the regimentation and subjection of nuns to strict social and religious discipline. Instead of seers, their outstanding figures became models of social action. In their schools they taught Christian doctrine and discipline to generations of future wives and mothers who in turn perpetuated the new emphasis on active charity in the community. If one has time to read only one essay in this collection, I would recommend this elegantly crafted piece. It is followed by Adriano Prosperi’s subtle discussion of spiritual letters by saintly and famous nuns or devout women. A surprisingly large proportion of these letters was written down by men who were the women’s secretaries or confessors. This raises a number of fascinating questions about the filters through which we see some of the great women mystics and the mediation of their image through the efforts of their male followers or spiritual directors. Changes in the post-Tridentine model of sanctity, notably in connection with convent life, are discussed in a number of the essays. Several authors, among them Elissa Weaver, argue that cloistered women had a good deal of latitude to write, study music, and enjoy literature including plays. Convents emerge as complex social institutions. While forced monachization was common, convent life also offered opportunities to women. There is broad agreement with Natalie Davis’s view that nuns often could chose a more intellectually satisfying life than women who married and had families. The last group of essays deals rather broadly with the sweeping changes in the position of Catholic women during the last two centuries. Lucetta Scaraffia looks at the increased importance of women in the Church and the feminization of modern Catholicism.Women have assumed leadership roles from which they were excluded in the past, and the Church now accepts (or is constrained to accept) their spiritual equality with men. The essays as a whole, although written by specialists, are aimed at students and general readers. They are remarkably successful in offering a wealth of information and skillfully guiding the reader through historiographical controversies. Moreover, their scholarly standard is almost uniformly very high. I wish I could say the same about the translations. Thus Zarri’s piece really suffers from a number of awkward and at times incomprehensible translations. But aside from that, the book is a rare example of discrete pieces that really do form a coherent whole. There is seriousness but no stridency. This collection makes an important contribution to the ongoing debate about the relation of Christianity and the status of women by showing the enormous complexity of the question, and provides much food for thought. ELISABETH G. GLEASON University of San Francisco BOOK REVIEWS 647 Passing the Keys. Modern Cardinals, Conclaves, and the Election of the Next Pope. By Francis A. Burkle-Young. (Lanham, Maryland: Madison Books. 1999. Pp. xxxi, 522. $35.00.) An unusual book. The introduction provides the mise-en-scène for what is to follow: a succinct account of papal elections from the early Middle Ages down to present times. It explains why, for almost the past thousand years, the election of the popes has been restricted by canon law exclusively to the choice of the cardinals. Such was the gravity of the crises that the papacy has had to ride out in the past, that on more than one occasion many doubted they would ever see another conclave, in 1799, for instance, after the death of Pius VI at Valence, in exile, hostage of the French Revolution, after the loss of the Papal State and the occupation of Rome, in 1870, and the death of Pius IX eight years later. And yet the succession continues unbroken, the keys of the kingdom have been passed securely from hand to hand. How? In six increasingly detailed and informative chapters the author narrates the conclaves of the past century,from 1878 until 1978. A long succession of popes and pontificates: Leo XIII (Gioacchino Pecci), in 1878; Pius X (Giuseppe Sarto), in 1903, Benedict XV (Giacomo Della Chiesa), in 1914; Pius XI (Achille Ratti), in 1922; Pius XII (Eugenio Pacelli), in 1939; John XXIII (Angelo Roncalli), in 1958; Paul VI (Giovanni Battista Montini), in 1963; John Paul I (Albino Luciani) and John Paul II (Karol Wojtyla), both in 1978. For each conclave, a roll call is made of the cardinal electors and why they were ever aggregated into the Sacred College. Possible papabili are considered, sometimes immediately dismissed. An attempt is made to reconstruct the shifting phases of the balloting, down to the decisive count. All very interesting. Given the stringency of the norms binding the cardinal electors to absolute secrecy on what takes place during the conclave and the fact that the author declines to reveal his sources (p. ix), the work presumably depends on earlier published accounts based on able conjecture and surmise. Regarding more recent events, Andrew Greeley and Peter Hebblethwaite seem likely sources (p. 505), and John Cornwell is explicitly acknowledged (p. 261). One episode is lifted from Pontiff (p. 265), though this great work of fiction is not listed in the bibliography. No better than that, or is there something really fresh? Who can tell? These are followed by two chapters on the cardinals created since 1979,until the most recent consistory of 1998, a total of 155 porporati, the twenty-year span being divided into the earlier years of this pontificate, and the later years. This is not an exercise in adulation, and in assessing them, criticism is not spared. Not all come out with flying colors. Not everyone, however, will agree with the assessment. The final chapter is devoted to the coming election, whenever that may be, though the author makes no secret (p. 401) of the fact that he thinks it will take 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 648 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS place in 1999! With every day of 2000 that passes, his book becomes less relevant. This is inevitable in a work of this sort. Nine cardinals have died since it went to the presses. Hume, Padiyara, Sladkevicius would still have been electors today, whereas superannuated colleagues, such as O’Connor or Zoungrana, might have tried, in the discussions prior to the conclave, to influence the choice of a successor to the reigning pope. Another three have attained their eightieth birthday, viz., Pimenta, Sanchez, Sfeir, and are now debarred from the next conclave. Likewise Hickey and Araujo Sales before the close of the year. He speculates on the current favored contenders for the apostolic succession (including not one single native English speaker), and on the major ecclesial issues facing the next pontiff. Some readers will find this premature, perhaps even “offensive to pious ears/eyes,” especially as another consistory seems increasingly probable during the present pontificate. The cards in the new pack will need to be reshuffled, and unexpected aces are bound to surface. For good measure, three appendices are included: the most recent constitution on the papal election (1997), and the earlier enactments of Paul VI (1975), and the exclusion of the octogenarian cardinals from participating in the conclave (1970). Only the first is of any relevance at present, all previous legislation being now abrogated, or incorporated explicitly into the new rules. Such a candid appraisal of the modern conclaves, of the overt ambition, animosity, and intrigue of some eminences, in their bid for the papacy—so often foiled,only sometimes fulfilled—may detract from the hitherto venerated image of the electoral college and shake one’s simple faith in the credibility of the papal electoral system as such. Was that the purpose of this book from the outset? The pervading presence of the Holy Spirit is strangely passed over in silence. If one takes care to up-date the data, monitoring regularly the attrition to the electoral quorum, brought about through superannuation or demise, and eventually inserting the components of a future consistory, then this book will help the onlooker follow more intelligently the passing of the keys, whenever it comes about. And, in conclusion, the potential reader simply must not miss the accounts of the antics of the North American cardinals in their arduous trans-Atlantic race to participate in the conclaves of 1922 and 1939: their “Domine ad festinadum me adiuva” is hilarious! CHARLES BURNS Rome BOOK REVIEWS 649 The Churches in England from Elizabeth I to Elizabeth II, Volume I: 1588–1688; Volume II: 1688–1833; Volume III: 1833–1998. By Kenneth Hylson-Smith. (London: SCM Press Ltd. 1996, 1996, 1998. Pp. xviii, 348; xviii, 398; xiv, 383. £19.95; £19.95; £19.95 paperback.) While it is unusual to list the individual volumes of a set, in this case it is justified by the fact that each volume is designed to stand as an independent work. This obviously creates some repetition, but on such a vast canvas it is hardly noticed. The author explains his opening date with the proposition, “It was only during the Elizabethan era that England was truly converted to Protestantism.” With such a beginning the author is provided with almost equal time periods marked by the “Glorious Revolution” and the opening shot of the Oxford Movement. The narration of events runs easily and pleasantly (James II “had numerous mistresses who, although fewer than Charles’, were reportedly uglier,” while the Duke of Monmouth was “Good-looking, athletic, dashing and brainless”). There is considerable attention given to historiography in each segment. There is minimal attention given to civil history and Parliamentary action beyond what is specifically religious, but a great deal of attention is given to the more recent studies of local sources. One issue that might be of special interest here is Roman Catholic continuity, i.e., unbroken loyalty from before Henry VIII to the Emancipation of 1829. Throughout, the author reflects on the distinction between “Catholic” and “Papist” in much the way many modern writers divided “German” from “Nazi.” The reader of American history will reflect on the question of Catholic loyalty in local elections and on the antiquated rhetoric of Bob Jones University. The Catholic continuity is further confused by the Puritans who forced Anglicans to live like recusants in the homes of backwoods gentry. “Orders were issued for the reversal of recent radical changes in church furnishing, which included most notably an abandonment of the railing of altars.” The Interregnum ended, Charles II became king, and on his deathbed a Catholic. “As the Anglican clergy were ushered out of the bedchamber, a toothless, shabby old man, John Huddleston, carrying a stole and an oil-bottle, was hurrid in through a side-door from the ante-chamber in which he had long been kept waiting.” One of the primary religious objects of the Revolution of 1688 was exclusion of a Catholic monarch, but the reality was the beginning of Parliamentary Monarchy. Most of all this has been covered in the past although maybe not as well. It is the eighteenth-century view of English religion in the second volume that is given new perspective. “But the picture of eighteenth-century Roman Catholic loss, oppression and gloom must not be painted in entirely dark colours, there was much of a lighter and brighter hue.” The third volume, like the first, covers some fairly familiar ground. The view of the Catholic Faith in the teaching of some Anglican clergy even before 1833 is best summarized by Charles Daubeny, whose book appeared in 1798. “He was dogmatic in his insistence that the true church must have a duly commis- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 650 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS sioned ministry deriving its authority in direct line from the apostles. The priesthood was a divine institution. Sacraments were the ‘seals of the divine covenant.’” Of course, as things get closer and closer to the present their coverage must of necessity be of mere outline. While these words are tailored to a Catholic audience, every ecclesiastical organization in England during the time period is covered to various lengths, most, of course, for the Established Church, but notably the Puritans and the Methodists with no neglect of the Presbyterians,Baptists,Quakers,and a myriad of lesser manifestations of the Christian urge. Jews and Islam and Buddhism get short mentions in the third volume. The books have copious notes, but at the end of the volume and by chapter which is now the common use, but not always easy to use. There are extensive bibliographies and the indexes improve with each volume. These are books to be mined by students and professors and savored by all interested parties. JOHN R. MCCARTHY Cleveland, Ohio 650 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Ancient The Barbarian Plain: Saint Sergius between Rome and Iran. By Elizabeth Key Fowden. [The Transformation of the Classical Heritage, XXVIII.] (Berkeley: University of California Press. 1999. Pp. xxii, 227. $55.00.) At last, long last, the book on St. Sergius, the military saint martyred around A.D. 300 in the Orient, has appeared, authored by the one most qualified to write on him. The authoress, Elizabeth Key Fowden, is a classicist who had written her Princeton doctoral dissertation on the Saint in 1995 and continued for a quinquennium researching this theme. The result of this patient and conscientious effort is this book under review, which will remain for a long time to come the standard work on St. Sergius. The book is remarkable for the completeness of its coverage of the Sergius saga,as the chapters begin with the passio, followed by those on the rise of the cult of the martyr on the frontier with Persia;the emergence of a city,actually named after him,Sergiopolis/Ru2 fa,not far from the Euphrates in Syria; the spread of his cult in Byzantine Oriens and Persian Mesopotamia; the involvement of the two world powers in it, Christian Byzantium and Zoroastrian Persia; and finally the attraction of the Saint to a third religion, Islam. In addition to her command of the two important relevant languages for the study of the Saint,namely,Greek and Syriac,and of the various disciplines involved, which go beyond hagiography and ecclesiastical history, the authoress has not remained an armchair historian but has lived in the Near East and visited the main center of the cult, Sergiopolis/Ru2 fa. She even peregrinated to distant South Arabia, to Tar m, where the Saint’s memory is still BOOK REVIEWS 651 green to the present day, and what is more, among Muslims who revere him as a nabı̄, a prophet in whose honor a mosque still stands. The analytic portions of the work are also matched by the synthetic in which the authoress treats large historical problems related to the Saint and his cult. It is impossible to go through all these important contributions in a short review such as this one,but one large problem she has handled very well is the involvement of rulers, so far removed from one another in almost everything,in this Saint,namely,the Byzantine Christian Emperor, Justinian, and the Persian Zoroastrian Shah, Chosroes Parv s,and the Muslim Arab Caliph,Hish m,which makes the Saint truly unique in the annals of ecclesiastical history. Of all ethnic groups, the Arabs were the ones most involved with St. Sergius. His city, Sergiopolis, was located in the eastern limitrophe of Oriens, predominantly inhabited by the Arabs, and one group among them, the Ghass nids, the foederati of Byzantium in the sixth century, were guardians of the Saint—his shrine and the city. The authoress has acquitted herself well in dealing with the Arab profile of Sergiopolis by absorbing what has been written on ArabByzantine relations by Arabists and Byzantino-arabists, and even contributed something original. Such is the solution she has offered to a major problem, related to the building outside the walls of Sergiopolis, constructed by the Ghassnid King Mundir; whether it was a church and not a secular building. She ¯ that although architecturally it was a church, yet functionelegantly suggested ally it could easily have been an audience hall, since the two terms in that period were not mutually exclusive. So, in spite of the fact that she is guiltless of Arabic, Elizabeth Key Fowden has done justice to the involvement of the Arabs in the cult of the Saint. One aspect of her treatment,however,may be called into question,most probably derivative from the fact that in matters of Arabica, she operates with dependent judgments, apparently emanating from colleagues not friendly to the Arabic sources. This is reflected in the very title of the book,The Barbarian Plain,which comes from Procopius, well known for his ira et studium in historiography and who projected a false image of the Arabs and their role as barbarians and “Saracens,” especially of the Ghass nids, who actually were faithful sedentary foederati of Byzantium. Procopius’ prestige dominated sixth-century Byzantine historiography of the Arabs, and his descendants in the spirit in the twentieth century still parrot his jaundiced view of the Arabs. In various passages in the book,the Arabs appear as nomads, which some of them undoubtedly were but not all, especially the sedentary Ghass nids. There are also some inaccuracies in the book;such for instance, is the statement on the non-Ghass nid affiliation of the phylarch Shar h l, who built the martyrion of the Baptist at Harr n in Trachonitis,“since the name is otherwise unattested” (p. 163). The truth is that Shar h l is attested in the sources: see Hish m al-Kalb , Jamharat al-Nasab, ed. N. Hasan (Beirut, 1986), p. 619. But neither such inaccuracies nor the nomadization of the Arabs in the book constitutes a serious reflection on the sterling value of The Barbar- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 652 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS ian Plain, which as has been said earlier, will remain the standard work on St. Sergius and his cult for a long time to come. IRFAN SHAHÎD Georgetown University and Dumbarton Oaks 652 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Augustine through the Ages. An Encyclopedia. Edited by Allan D. Fitzgerald, O.S.A. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company. 1999. Pp. il, 902, $75.00.) The great African Doctor of the Church is doing well by the encyclopediasts. Alongside the stately progress of the Augustinus-Lexikon (over 1900 columns to reach ‘Donatists,’ in German, French, or English), Augustine through the Ages presents in some 500 articles by 150 scholars Augustine’s life, work, thought, and influence for a readership ranging from the academic researcher to the merely curious. Users with nothing but English will find a few bibliographies beyond them, and have to negotiate around some untranslated Latin, but for the most part this volume will prove accessible to serious monoglott students. It is not Augustine for the masses. An editor of such a work cannot avoid decisions on what to include or exclude. Many of the entries suggested themselves: each of Augustine’s writings (with valuable accounts and tabulated information on his letters and sermones), family, friends, colleagues, and opponents, his controversial engagements, leading events of his life, the resources of the North African Christian tradition he fell heir to, influences on his intellectual and religious formation, the world in which he lived and the church history of his day—and much more besides, including an inevitably selective coverage of major figures and phases illustrating Augustine’s extraordinarily wide and diverse influence through the ages (which the Augustinus-Lexikon does not encompass). This, then, is a splendidly comprehensive encyclopedia, drawing on Augustinian scholarship worldwide but chiefly the increasing depth and breadth of American patristic learning. This book must find a place in every institutional library in the humanities, and numerous individual scholars in history, theology, and philosophy in the Western tradition will invest wisely in a copy. Not that it is beyond improvement. Since it is indubitably set for a long life, what follows may serve as a contribution to a revision agenda. First,the absence of any treatment of editions (and translations) of Augustine’s works is disappointing. A huge gap yawns between ‘Manuscripts’ and ‘Cyberspace, Augustine in.’ The good article on Erasmus barely mentions his Augustine edition, and Amerbach, the Maurists, and other milestones in the publishing of Augustine are absent. (We are told that Amerbach’s edition of 1550 [read 1506] was available to Luther—who died in 1546, not 1540 as given here.) A survey of centers of Augustinian research, including today the editor’s two homes in Villanova and Rome and of course the Paris Institut, would have been welcome. There is BOOK REVIEWS 653 no general guidance on the present availability of Augustine’s works, although bibliographies provide the detail of most (but not all) of them individually. On a related point, the catalogue (Indiculum) of Augustine’s collection of his own writings made by Possidius soon after his death is not discussed. Secondly, the historical, geographical, and social context of Augustine’s career is only patchily covered. We miss an article on Roman North Africa, or any particular province of the Empire, except oddly Aquitania. ‘Hippo’ (identified still as Bône, superseded years since by Annaba), is narrowly archaeological (and done better by William Frend in ‘Archaeology’), and ‘Carthage’ much the same. Other cities or towns are given ampler treatment, but Milevis is here only for its synods; Hadrumetum is in but not Massilia, nor Rome or Caesarea (Mauretania), but Arles found favor in editorial eyes. Not unconnected is the sketchy portrayal of Augustine’s diverse ministry in Hippo, his multifarious sarcina episcopatus.‘Clergy, North African,’ and ‘Preaching’ and a few others fill in corners of the picture, but we scarcely glimpse Augustine the pastor, intercessor, trustee, monastic paterfamilias (monasticism is only rule[s] and asceticism), trouble-shooter, ombudsman, and city father— roles so starkly exposed in the Divjak find of letters.‘Roman Legal System’ does not touch base with Augustine at all,but ‘Roman Laws’does. The pagan religious background—and foreground, in Hippo—is not filled in, whether Berber, Punic, or Roman. The article on ‘Religion’ expounds Augustine’s theory. In prosopography the coverage is more even. Among Roman imperial officials only Symmachus and Manlius Theodorus appear, but no emperor or governor, nor Marcellinus or Boniface. Yet a few ecclesiastical figures are surprisingly included, such as Eusebius of Caesarea,Athanasius (as well as Antony), Helvidius, and Ausonius. The Augustinian heritage down the centuries could be treated only selectively, but I judge that the editor and his associates chose wisely. Only Bradwardine’s absence caught my eye. ‘Carolingian Era, Late,’ in fact, deals only with pre-Carolingian centuries, overlapping with ‘Fifth Century.’Adomnan is perhaps lucky to gain a place. Given the current vogue for claiming so-called Celtic Christianity for Pelagianism, a general article on the Celtic or Irish tradition would serve a special purpose. A few corrigenda may be noted: the titles of Locutiones in Heptateuchum and Conlatio cum Maximino . . . episcopo; the dates of De baptismo (after 405) and the early Tractatus on John (406–407, p. 291); strange entries on De grammatica and De rhetorica which ignore whether these are lost works by Augustine; another oddity on Caelestius’ Definitiones (not mentioned in ‘Caelestius’; why this alone among works by Pelagians?). But suchlike are minor blemishes in an extremely useful companion. A handful of articles delighted by their unexpectedness (‘Citizen,’‘Cult of Augustine’s 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 654 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Medieval Clerics in the Early Middle Ages: Hierarchy and Image. By Roger E. Reynolds. [Variorum Collected Studies Series.] (Brookfield, Vermont: Variorum, Ashgate. 1999. Pp. x, 334. $110.95.) Clerical Orders in the Early Middle Ages: Duties and Ordination. By Roger E. Reynolds. [Variorum Collected Studies Series.] (Brookfield,Vermont: Variorum, Ashgate. 1999. Pp. x, 334, $106.95.) The last thirty or so years have witnessed a growing fascination on the part of medievalists and social historians with lay and religious movements in the Middle Ages. Popes, cardinals, bishops, and monks, on the other hand, have all enjoyed a perennial appeal among scholars. Amazingly little research, however, has focused on priests and on the clerical grades preceding ordination to the priesthood. This is particularly ironic in view of the vast number of men and boys who were tonsured and admitted to various degrees of clerical status throughout the medieval period and beyond. These companion volumes bring together some twenty-three articles of varying length on clerics and clerical orders as reflected in patristic and medieval texts. Roger Reynolds draws upon a wide spectrum of sources, including letters, sermons, treatises, liturgical commentaries, ordination instructions, and canon law materials from the fifth to the twelfth centuries. Most of the articles have appeared elsewhere over the past three decades and hence Ashgate/Variorum has maintained their original pagination wherever possible, assigning to each a Roman numeral in order of appearance, as listed in the table of contents. Some articles have been so thoroughly revised or else now appear in much lengthier, unabridged form that any attempt to retain their original pagination would have proven impossible. Clerics in the Early Middle Ages: Hierarchy and Image contains four studies which appear for the first time; one of the articles in Clerical Orders in the Early Middle Ages: Duties and Ordination is likewise a first publication. Reynolds begins the first volume by mapping out as it were the clerical landscape of the early Middle Ages, describing the clerical grades and their functions in the various western European systems: Roman, Spanish, Irish, and Gallo-Frankish. Another study, entitled “Christ as Cleric: The Ordinals of Christ,” examines the widespread phenomenon of identifying Christ, through his words or actions, with each of the clerical grades. In an essay on the mathemat- BOOK REVIEWS 655 ics of sacred orders, the author shows that the ‘traditional’ seven ecclesiastical grades were by no means as fixed or as consistent in the patristic and early medieval periods as later scholastic theologians would have preferred. Several medieval systems of sacred orders in fact ran as low as six and as high as eight or nine clerical grades. A fourth article discusses the status of the subdiaconate as a sacred or ‘major’ order.“Patristic Presbyterianism” explores the relationship of the priesthood to the episcopate in the writings of theologians from Jerome and Ambrosiaster to the Master of the Sentences, Peter Lombard. The highest of the ecclesiastical orders, Peter maintained, is the priesthood. Indeed, Lombard cited Isidore of Seville to the effect that, according to ancient authorities, bishops and presbyters were originally the same. This equation of the priesthood with the order of bishop naturally would give rise to ‘presbyterian’ consequences in the Reformation period. In discussing the origins, duties, conferral, and arrangement of sacred orders, Reynolds does a good job of linking text with image, as in the case of the Raganaldus Sacramentary, the Landulf Pontifical Roll, and the Drogo Sacramentary. These studies feature clear, attractive black and white reproductions of the manuscript sources. Again juxtaposing medieval accounts and a generous selection of artistic depictions of clerics arrayed in attendance at church councils, Reynolds analyzes rites and signs of conciliar decisions in the Middle Ages. His article on clerical vestments and liturgical colors,though highly descriptive, would have been enhanced by a similarly visual presentation of select vestments, particularly the more elaborate specimens associated with prominent figures or with prestigious institutions. The second volume for the most part takes a more distinctly canonical approach to clerical duties and ordination, citing the Pseudo-Hieronymian De septem ordinibus ecclesiae, the ‘Isidorian’ Epistula ad Leudefredum, Ivonian opuscula on ecclesiastical officers, plus tracts, letters, instructions, addresses, florilegia, and even marginalia. Again, the geography spans from Spain, through the Franco-Germanic realms, across the Alps, down to southern Italy. The timeframe extends from the fifth to the twelfth centuries. Liturgists and contemporary Catholic scholars in general may be struck by the parallels Reynolds draws in passing between medieval and much more recent modifications both to the number of sacred orders and to the ordination rites themselves. The author notes, for example, the grassroots response to the transformation of the ordination prayers and ceremonies in eleventh-century Spain as the papacy and the crown sought to replace the Old Spanish with the simpler, more lapidary Roman Rite. The correspondence between these alterations and those introduced into the Roman Rite by the Holy See in the early 1970’s affords the present-day reader access to the medieval context. A study of clerical grades and their functions would hardly be complete without reference to the most common, indeed central, liturgical venue of the 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 656 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS clergy, namely, the Eucharist. Another study of image and text examines modifications in the early Roman eucharistic ordines as they are illustrated in the famous ivory covers of the ninth-century Drogo Sacramentary. The visual materials, again presented in crisp black and white, take the reader step by step through the eucharistic liturgy at Metz over which Bishop Drogo, an illegitimate son of Charlemagne, solemnly presides as principal celebrant, with priests, deacons, subdeacons, and other clerics all exercising their respective liturgical functions. Both books demonstrate well the truly interdisciplinary nature of medieval studies. Reynolds approaches his subject primarily from a liturgical and canonical perspective but effectively integrates insights gleaned from other fields: fine art, palaeography, theology, institutional and social history. This versatility has been a hallmark of the author’s research and teaching at the Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto. The great merit of these twin tomes lies in the service they render scholars by gathering together, in a convenient collection, nearly two dozen interrelated articles otherwise scattered throughout many journals,Festschriften,books,dictionaries, and encyclopedias. Because the articles were published separately over the course of a distinguished scholarly career spanning nearly thirty years, each stands independently and bears no immediate relation to the others, as perhaps chapters might in a book. Reynolds himself explains that these volumes in fact serve as a transition between his earlier book on the Ordinals of Christ (1978) and a more comprehensive examination,yet to come,of the shifts in the theology of clerical orders from late antiquity through the twelfth century. Certainly the field is fertile and promises a rich yield. It is to be hoped, therefore, that the author will complete his project and follow these useful tomes with just such a comprehensive study of clerics and sacred orders in the Middle Ages. NEIL J. ROY The Catholic University of America 656 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS L’Hagiographie et I’Iconoclasme Byzantin: Le cas de la Vie d’Étienne le Jeune. By Marie-France Auzépy. [Birmingham Byzantine and Ottoman Monographs, Volume 5.] (Brookfield, Vermont: Ashgate Publishing Company. 1999. Pp. x, 342. $83.95.) This book attempts to redress the balance of scholarly opinion by regaining a more favorable view of the Isaurian emperors (Leo III and Constantine V), whilst exposing the expedients by which the supporters of the images succeeded at the Council of Nicaea II (787) and beyond. The outward double purpose of the Life of Stephen the Younger, to discredit the Isaurians and to BOOK REVIEWS 657 propagate the iconodule orthodoxy, is mistrusted. In Auzépy’s reading, the text’s violent attack against the iconoclast emperors is read as a purposeful campaign for their damnatio memoriae, while the need to bolster iconodule positions with the words and actions of a saint reveals signs of insecurity in the validity and universality of the theses of the council. The author, Stephen the Deacon, is the polemical voice of the patriarchate, rather than an objective witness. In Auzépy’s view, the hagiographical genre provided the perfect literary guise for iconodule propaganda. By setting out detailed tables comparing the narrative with historical information from other contemporary sources (pp. 48–49), Auzépy unmasks what she considers purposeful lies (“le mensonge”: pp. 86–87) on the part of the hagiographer, whose account alters dates and sequence of events in order to tell a coherent and uncontroversial story about Stephen, and to present him exclusively as a defender of icons. The analysis of the narrative structures and of the literary background shows the author’s deliberate manipulation of his material. Auzépy concludes that the text reveals more about the time when it was written (809–810), than about the period of the action sixty years earlier. Auzépy’s detailed study of the quotations from the Acts of Nicaea justifies her claim that the Life depends upon its theses and is devoted to propagating them. (Unfortunately, the lack of translations of the parallel-text comparisons will hamper the non-Greek-literate readership in forming an independent opinion of the use and modifications to the sources; this absence partly undoes Auzépy’s effort of making the Life more widely accessible in translation in volume 3 of the same series.) The choice of other sources is presented as revealing of the author’s spiritual and cultural milieu in an interesting and successful attempt at probing the implications of the literary borrowings. What emerges in particular is a theological continuity with Andrew of Crete and a marked influence of the Palestinian milieu. The question of the audience for which the Life was composed, however, is not directly addressed. In depicting the monks’ flight, humiliation, and persecution at the hands of the iconoclasts, the hagiographer is furnishing a glorious past for monastic institutions (including the Trichinareae, who probably commissioned the work). But while the agenda of the Life was in the monasteries’ interest, who needed to and really could be persuaded by the patriarchal viewpoint, when it involved such a radical re-writing of history, not long after the events? Auzépy detects, despite this pro-monastic rhetoric, an anti-Stoudite aim, which fits in with the situation of conflict between St. Theodore and the patriarchate at the time of composition of the Life. It is a pity that a separate section could not have been devoted to defining the real difference between the 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 658 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Nicaean/patriarchal iconodule stance and that of the Stoudites. Two related issues could have gained clarity from such an examination: that of the relation between the spiritual and temporal powers, and that of the critical assessment of the theological substance of Nicaea II. Auzépy uses the West as a foil to sustain her attack on the validity of Nicaea, considering both the papacy and the Carolingians as fundamentally in tune with the iconoclast, rather than the iconodule, viewpoint. For example, she bluntly states,“Grégoire le Grand . . . était favorable aux images religieuses mais réprouvait leur culte” (p. 270; sadly, Pope Gregory does not get a mention in the index!). It may have been wiser to nuance the meaning of “icon cult,” without assuming, as often seems the case, that such definitions can be borrowed unproblematically from the practice of the twentieth-century Orthodox Church. While Auzépy has valiantly striven to overcome the ideological trap set by Stephen the Deacon, opening the way for the historical contextualization of this hagiographical piece, her lack of sympathy with his endeavor has nevertheless constituted, as is often the case, a stumbling block for a deeper understanding of his work. BARBARA CROSTINI LAPPIN The Queen’s University Belfast 658 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS A Concise History of the Crusades. By Thomas F. Madden. [Critical Issues in History.] (Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield. 1999. Pp. xii, 249. $22.95 cloth; $12.95 paper.) In November, 1095, Pope Urban II preached a sermon in which he summoned the Franks to arms for a holy war to liberate Jerusalem and the Holy Land from the Seljuk Turks. The expedition that resulted is known now as the First Crusade, and in July, 1099, after a harrowing campaign across Europe, Anatolia, and down the Palestinian coast, those who were still alive and able to fight, besieged Jerusalem, capturing it in Christ’s name. True to the formulation given this war by the pope, the crusaders, proceeding as pilgrims and fighting under the banner of Christ’s cross, were perceived by medieval commentators to have fought a divinely sanctioned war in defense of the faith. Concise histories of lengthy, complex historical movements can make dispiriting reading. The narratives are either too closely detailed and laden with scholarly footnotes, or they are irritatingly uninformed and uninformative. Readers will be pleased that Thomas Madden has hit just the right note in his sweeping but concise account of the crusades. While he follows the development of crusading down to the period of the Protestant Reformation, and offers, in an afterword, speculations about the modern impact of the medieval crusade, he never fails to interest and inform. His prose is lucid, and the broad sweep of his BOOK REVIEWS 659 historical canvass is colored by the rare combination of enthusiasm and judicious criticism. Madden works within a clear, solidly constructed chronological framework. Although he takes note of the Spanish reconquista, the crusades against the Church’s European political enemies,and against heretics and pagans,he is concerned principally with crusading to the Holy Land. After a useful opening chapter on the social and religious background of Pope Urban’s sermon, he narrates the course of that first great expedition, the political and religious consequences of the conquest for the European consciousness, the crusaders’ foundation of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, and the urgent problems of consolidation and defense which beset the kingdom until its demise in 1291. Throughout Madden’s narrative, the reader is reminded that crusading was stoked by the tenets and devotional energies of medieval Catholicism. At the same time, however, each crusade was a military response to the turbulent conditions of eastern Realpolitik. Islamic dynastic struggles,centered principally in Egypt and Syria, coupled with the emergence in the twelfth century of a singularly compelling ideology of jihad which focused upon the restoration of Jerusalem to Islam, became paramount in shaping western strategic initiatives. As this book shows, with reference particularly to the disastrous crusades against Egypt, these factors were incompatible with the original ideal of crusade as a holy, sanctifying war to liberate Jerusalem. And it is here, in the unresolved tensions between religious ideal and the exigencies of war in the East, that crusade, after the conquest of 1099, was wanting. True, Europeans never abandoned entirely the idea of holy war as Pope Urban had preached it, but it is Madden’s contention that its martial effectiveness against Islam was virtually spent by the end of the thirteenth century. But what of Byzantium? In tracing the ambiguous role of Byzantium in crusading history, Madden is direct. Mutual dislike and suspicion between Greeks and Latins were, he shows, not restricted to theological issues. True, there is some evidence of co-operation against the Muslim enemy, but in general the record is one of implacable hostility. This is evident in the records of the First Crusade. It climaxed, however, with the sacking and burning of Constantinople by the army of the Fourth Crusade. Madden calls the fire “one of the most destructive urban fires in human history” (p. 114) and there is no mistaking his outrage at the crusaders’ vandalism and desecration of the Christian “Queen of Cities” (p. 120). The Greeks did not forget. When Constantinople faced Ottoman attack and certain collapse in the fifteenth century, the citizens’ mood was so virulently anti-Catholic that “they insisted that they would rather be conquered by the Turks than abjure their faith for the sake of western aid” (p. 200). In his preface, Madden claims, reasonably, that writing the history of the crusades is a way of “understanding a complex set of events spanning centuries of Mediterranean history” (p. xi). And to give graphic point to this, he offers the reader fourteen clearly produced maps depicting the Mediterranean world 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 660 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS about A.D. 1000, the routes of the main crusades, and the crusade plan of Maximilian I in 1518. The usefulness of these is reinforced by an index, a glossary, mainly of Islamic terms, a list of translated sources, and a select bibliography. PENNY J. COLE St.Augustine’s Seminary, University of Toronto 660 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS The Crusades and Their Sources: Essays Presented to Bernard Hamilton. Edited by John France and William G. Zajac. (Brookfield, Vermont: Ashgate. 1998. Pp. xix, 297. $76.95.) The editors of this volume may be congratulated for issuing a Festschrift in which all fifteen contributors address themselves to a common theme: sources for the study of the history of the crusades. Ten of the authors are from Great Britain. Of the remaining five, two write in French and one in German. Two papers are illustrated. The majority pertain to the period around the First Crusade and the twelfth century, yet some consideration is also given to the thirteenth, fourteenth, and even the sixteenth century. The preliminaries include a chronological list of Bernard Hamilton’s works published between 1961 and 1997, while the book ends with a useful general index. Not surprisingly, in a volume concerned largely with medieval sources, nearly half of the authors refer to problems inherent in the use of undated documents. The task of establishing chronological accuracy is a much-underestimated aspect of the history of the period,and one which only in recent years has begun to become somewhat less elusive due to the introduction of improved computer applications to textual analysis. The DEEDS Project at the University of Toronto has already developed a methodology for dating undated charters, and it may not be long before similar approaches can be applied to a variety of other legal and literary sources, not only in attempts to date them, but also to identify authorship and forgeries. In his paper on the conquest of Lebanon, Jonathan Riley-Smith concentrates on charter sources and provides new material for prosopographical studies of those active in the Holy Land at the turn of the twelfth century. Relying heavily on narrative sources written by Abu Shama, Ibn al-Athir, and William of Tyre, Malcolm Barber discusses the Campaign of Jacob’s Ford, arguing that the demolishing of the fortress of Chastellet in 1179 initiated “the process leading to the defeat at Hattin.” In a paper based largely on secondary opinions of a primary source, Susan Edgington finds evidence that Albert of Aachen was influenced by the Chansons de Geste when writing his Historia Ierosolimitana. John France provides convincing arguments for re-evaluating the individual value of what have long been thought to be purely derivative sources concerning the First Crusade. He further proposes that the first surviving account of that crusade was the Gesta Francorum,closely followed by the Historia Francorum of Raymond of Aguilers, and Peter Tudebode’s Historia de Hierosolymitano itinere. Robert Irwin’s paper is an excellent study of Usamah ibn Munqidh, who, he reminds us, “was not writing to provide twentieth-century infidel historians with accurate BOOK REVIEWS 661 documentary information about Christian-Muslim relations in the twelfth century.” Gérard Dédéyan looks to the colophons on Armenian manuscripts as a heretofore untapped, precise source for the history of the crusades. Benjamin Kedar discusses, and appends a much-needed new edition of, the Tractatus de locis et statu sancte terre ierosolimitane, which he believes “may be an impersonal rendering of what was originally a first-person account.” Anthony Luttrell provides a highly analytic and source-based contribution on the Hospitallers’ early written records and correctly insists that “the habitual reliance on the sometimes misleading Cartulaire [of Delaville le Roulx] should be abandoned and account taken of new materials.” A charter of 1128 by Peter of St. Lazarus, a confrater of the Holy Sepulchre,in which he sets up a foundation for his wife, Maria, and two daughters, provides Hans E. Mayer with material for a study of marriage conditions in Jerusalem at the time. Peter Edbury finds in John of Jaffa’s Livre des Assises “a major source for our understanding of the social and legal fabric of the Latin East,” while Jean Richard determines from a pontifical account concerning the Kingdom of Cyprus for the years 1364–1368 that, for reasons of poverty, the Cypriot Church could not then meet its fiscal obligations toward Rome. Colin Morris’s discussion of “visual propaganda” for the crusades in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries is a naïve and often inaccurate account, noticeably based on reproductions found in Oxford illustrated histories. Its deficiencies are offset by an excellent, well-documented and focused article by Alan V. Murray on the use of the crusaders’ relic of the True Cross as a military artifact “to raise or maintain morale and to inspire courage.” Jaroslav Folda argues convincingly that the south transept façade, that is, the main entrance of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,“was the product of a multicultural artistic team carried out for multicultural Christian patrons and for a multicultural pilgrim clientele.” The volume concludes with an interesting paper by Norman Housley on criticism of the crusade by Erasmus, who sought “to discredit any association between religion and war.” MICHAEL GERVERS University of Toronto at Scarborough 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 661 Bernard of Clairvaux. By G. R. Evans. [Great Medieval Thinkers.] (New York: Oxford University Press. 2000. Pp. ix, 220.) Professor Evans’ assessment of Bernard is offered on the last page (172) of this book: “All this makes him a good theologian and an important theologian, but only if we can share his priorities and regard it as more important not to rock the boat then to push the boat a little farther out to sea.” This unfortunate attitude permeates the book—unfortunate because Bernard was instrumental in a fundamental reorientation of the theological enterprise. That reorientation began with Bernard’s anthropology, which Evans incorrectly describes by assigning the Augustinian triad of the soul’s faculties—intellect, memory, and will—to Bernard (p. 45). Bernard does indeed repeat this 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 662 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Augustinian analysis, but he does so only to ignore the memory and replace it with a novel faculty completely ignored by Evans: the affectus. The recognition by Bernard of this perceiving and feeling faculty in humankind means that emotions are legitimized in Bernard’s spirituality in a way quite foreign to Augustine’s thought. Equally foreign to Augustine would have been Bernard’s attitude toward the body, which Bernard sees as a noble, admirable, and essential component of human nature—so much so that the full glories of heaven are denied humans until the end time when their bodies will be reunited to their souls. Evans does not see this; she writes of Bernard (on p. 31): “The flesh holds the spirit back, dirty with sin and not worthy to be admitted to heaven.” Although Evans’ citation is to a passage in which Bernard says nothing like this, it does represent Bernard’s position—but only if one understands that “flesh” does not mean the body to Bernard, but a misdirected will. Because Evans does not see this, she can write of the virtue inherent in self-denial (see pp. 24 and 31). Bernard does indeed preach self-control as a means to self-fulfillment (not self-denial),but it is a disciplining of the will, which when properly directed by love can in turn lovingly direct the body’s legitimate passions. This has important consequences for Bernard’s ecclesiology. Evans understands Bernard’s teaching on the states of life to be hierarchical. She writes (on p. 51) that “. . . it remains Bernard’s firm conviction that in the monastic life lies the best possibility of achieving perfection. . . .” Leaving aside the fact that Bernard did not see perfection as an achievement but rather as a gift, Evans misrepresents Bernard. She compounds the error in having Bernard assert that it is better for human beings not to marry (p. 31, with no reference). This may be Augustine, but it is not Bernard, who thought all vocations were equally efficacious and that the choice of a vocation should depend on one’s abilities and predilections. He as often discouraged clerics and lay folk from embracing monastic life as he encouraged them. The only hierarchy apparent in Bernard’s thought on this subject is one of virtue,not of status: he insisted that those who responded more faithfully to God’s grace were closer to perfection—whatever their vocation. These are but a few examples of how Evans assigns Bernard positions at odds with his own. Bernard’s teaching on Church-State relations and the role of the papacy in the Church, his supposed positions on purgatory and transubstantiation (which he does not so much as mention), his views on grace and free choice, his definitions and descriptions of contemplation, consideration, and meditation are all misrepresented. Evans’ many errors on Bernard’s opposition to Abelard are, perhaps, best exemplified by her statement (on p. 117) that “. . . Bernard . . . seemed to take the view that a man’s teaching was of less importance than his attitude, that a proud and contentious person ought to be condemned as a heretic in any case.” Bernard is an author often difficult to understand. His great rhetorical skills sometimes led him to seeming inconsistencies. The only way to discover BOOK REVIEWS 663 Bernard’s position on any topic is to consult the entire corpus of his writings. Judgments are surely aided by taking seriously the immense secondary literature, some of which has been produced on the Western side of the Atlantic— though one would not know this from consulting the bibliography of this book. Evans’ volume is intended for students and the general reader (see p. vii); it is not a work to which I would send the young or curious. JOHN R. SOMMERFELDT University of Dallas 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 663 Jutta and Hildegard: The Biographical Sources. Translated and introduced by Anna Silvas. [Brepols Medieval Women Series.] (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press. 1999. Pp. xxvii, 299. $18.95 paperback.) This volume,as the title suggests,brings together a range of documentary material that illumines the lives of two remarkable holy women, Hildegard of Bingen (1098–1179) and her teacher and mentor, Jutta of Sponheim (1092–1136). The vitae of Jutta and Hildegard are supplemented by extracts from chronicles, letters, and charters relating to monasteries with which they were closely associated: Disibodenberg, Sponheim, and Rupertsberg. This documentary material, much of which remains difficult to obtain, provides an essential background for interpreting the images of female spirituality depicted in the vitae. Silvas, through her selection, lively translations, and scholarly commentary, provides an important introduction to these women for the experienced scholar and student new to the field alike. The material assembled in this collection spans a period of roughly 130 years, from Jutta’s birth in 1092 to the abandoned attempt to secure Hildegard’s canonization in 1233. The translations are arranged chronologically, enabling the reader to develop an appreciation of the social and monastic context in which Jutta and Hildegard lived before coming to the vitae of the women themselves. Silvas introduces each translation with a discussion of questions of authorship, dating, and style. Her commentaries combine to connect each individual translation into a related whole, guiding the reader through the lives of the two holy women and the men who left records of them. The translations are accompanied by two maps, genealogical tables, and indices of names and scriptural references. The heart of the collection is the translation of the vitae of Jutta and Hildegard. Silvas offers an engaging and perceptive translation of the Life of the Holy Hildegard based on the critical edition of the Latin text. Her translation of the Life of the Lady Jutta makes accessible for the first time in English a recently discovered text of major significance for the life and spiritual development of both women. The portrait of Jutta the recluse and her small community of women in the Life of Jutta illumines Hildegard’s early life at Disibodenberg, providing an interesting counter to the visionary’s later autobiographical rem- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 664 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS iniscences. The Life of Jutta, together with extracts from the chronicle of Disibodenberg, documents the culture of monastic renewal and spiritual intensity, including the veneration of holy women and visionary spirituality, that strongly shaped Hildegard’s religious expression. These two texts are complemented by the translation of an unfinished vita of Hildegard by Guibert of Gembloux, which contains details of the women’s lives not attested to elsewhere. The material recording the lives of Jutta and Hildegard illustrates the profound reverence and esteem in which holy women were held by their male monastic colleagues. The circumstances in which the vitae were produced, by men who experienced the privilege of intimate spiritual friendships with these holy women, shed insight more broadly into the relationships that existed between religious women and the men who provided spiritual direction to them. Each text also counterpoints the other, enabling the reader to reflect on the processes of memorialization and veneration that motivated the production of the texts themselves. This volume will be an important contribution to the expanding field of Hildegard studies, and also to readers with an interest in the social and spiritual contexts of holy women and the relationships between the sexes in monastic life. JULIE HOTCHIN Canberra, Australia 664 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Medieval Sermons and Society: Cloister, City, University. Edited by Jacqueline Hamesse, Beverly Mayne Kienzle, Anne T. Thayer, and Debra Stoudt. [Fédération Internationale des Instituts d’Études Médiévales. Textes et Études du Moyen Âge, 9.] (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols Publishers. 1998. Pp. viii, 422. 49 euros; 1976, 66 BEF.) The editors and authors of this anthology, actively involved in the International Medieval Sermon Studies Society, deserve the gratitude of all medievalists for producing an outstanding volume. An anthology poses significant challenges to the editors, but by focusing on three main loci in which preaching was done—cloister, city, and university—they seamlessly weave together diverse subject matter. As Beverly Kienzle states, “[t]he essays . . . illustrate how medieval authors incorporated and reshaped existing sources and developed new ones. . . . The sermon provided a fluid genre . . . the persuasive power [of which] constituted a vehicle for strong commentary on contemporary events” (p. viii). This book both overturns stereotypes and challenges recent assumptions about a supposed uniformity over time and place. It is impossible in a short review to do justice to this rich collection of twenty-one essays, and so I will mention only a few. In “The Cloister,” Debra Stoudt calls attention to the importance not only of the preached Word,but also its value as an object for private study, often by nuns. Rosemary Hale’s “The ‘Silent’ Virgin,” examining how sermons on Mary were presented by Meister Eckhart and Johannes Tauler, exemplifies this approach. Hale presents the mes- BOOK REVIEWS 665 sage given, but proceeds to examine how it was received and changed. Mary as spiritual mother who receives then conceives is central to Eckhart;Tauler, more conventional in his Marian imagery, focuses on spiritual birth in the soul that is to be emulated. Spiritual birth does occur among the nuns to whom the works are addressed; yet the “immovable and silent” of the sermons becomes an “active and vocal” model. In “The City,” introduced by Anne Thayer, changes in European life from the eleventh to thirteenth centuries are obvious in sermons. Beverly Kienzle’s “Cistercian Views of the City in the Sermons of Hélinand of Froidmont” examines how the Cistercian ideal of simplicity was enlivened by the natural imagery of trees and blossoms, so at odds with the growing cities. Hélinand viewed universities and their “rosy, pleasure-seeking doctors” as integral to a corruption that encompassed worldly pleasure,building,and heresy. The contaminated city was the opposite of the monastic model of a heavenly Jerusalem. Both John Dahmus and Patrick Horner demonstrate the flexibility of sermons in addressing contemporary issues. Many have suggested that commonplaces, topoi, and exempla varied little from century to century, undervaluing the role of the preacher. While caution is necessary in evaluating sermons, Horner asserts,“Indeed it is the preacher’s additions, omissions, and variations—their departures . . .—which often provide the evidence for changing attitudes . . .” (p. 263). It is how a preacher used ageless themes and in what context that we learn about contemporary culture. In his essay on Antoninus Florentinus, Peter Howard argues for a “self-conscious relationship of the preacher” to the culture of quattrocento Italian city-states. Artes praedicandi and model sermons did not disappear with time, but preachers who used them did so with an explicit understanding of the importance of the context of changing circumstances. Preachers could use older material and models and make something new and relevant out of them by applying them to “modern” life. Presentation and selection of what to include and exclude, and what to emphasize and add, could and did change sermons in dramatic ways. Jacqueline Hamesse begins the final section by asking whether university sermons can be considered the same as other sermons and if not, how they differed. Nancy Spatz shows that in university inception sermons it is important “. . . not merely to relate what they say . . . but how they say it. The images they use reveal a great deal about the authors’ personalities or at least the mood they wished to convey on the day they incepted” (pp. 240–241). Far from the “dull and unoriginal” stereotype, they were dynamic and imaginative. The wealth of material and originality in this work go far beyond that found in most essay collections, and the articles not specifically mentioned provide valuable insights and hitherto unavailable resources. As with all anthologies, there is some unevenness in length and significance, and standardization of translation would have been helpful. But these are small quibbles for a work that breaks new ground in sermon studies, showing us not only how the preacher changed the message even when using older sources, but how the au- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 666 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS dience often transformed the message received. It is to be hoped that this book will dispel once and for all the notion that medieval sermons were static and unchanging. The editors and authors have challenged scholars to delve further into the issues they raise so eloquently. I can think of no higher praise. LARISSA TAYLOR Colby College 666 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS The Waldensian Dissent.Persecution and Survival, c. 1170–c. 1570. By Gabriel Audisio. Translated by Claire Davison. [Cambridge Medieval Textbooks.] (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1999. Pp. xiv, 234. $59.95 clothbound; $21.95 paperback.) The Poor of Lyons emerged around 1170 as followers of Vaudès, a layman who advocated literal observance of the gospel and lay preaching. As an evangelical movement, the Poor stand apart from other such experiments in the Middle Ages because, although condemned and long persecuted by the Church as heretics, they survived until absorbed into the Protestant Reformation. Since the original publication in 1989 of this volume as Les ‘Vaudois’: naissance, vie et mort d’une dissidence (xiie–xvie siècle), Audisio’s work has been the most easily accessible general account of these ‘Waldensians’ (as their medieval Catholic enemies called them),and an English translation is therefore very welcome. As Audisio himself states, the work is aimed at the “enlightened amateur,” not his academic colleagues, but he does not disguise the source difficulties nor the problems of definition. The nebulous and constantly changing nature of heresy and belief and the acute sensitivity of names (for example) are constantly evoked. He sympathizes powerfully with his subject, and his interest in the psychology of the brethren when faced with the dilemma of living the dissent to the full or living long (p. 110) leads him to some rather speculative inferences, but the reader will acquire a direct grasp of the impact of persecution and the need for adaptation to clandestinity leading, for example, to participation in Catholic rituals: he identifies such ‘impairment’ as the cost of survival (p. 84). The mechanisms of the inquisition and what it felt like to go through it are also very effectively evoked. The chronological chapters (1–4) are less watertight than the titles might imply. For example, chapter three,“The Fourteenth Century,” provides the first systematic outline of their beliefs concerning falsehood, oaths, purgatory, confession, donatism, the death penalty, the Eucharist, ecclesiastical power, and the saints. Later chapters deal with the problems of clandestinity (5), their organization, which encompassed a diaspora stretching across Europe and gradually separated into Latin or Romance and Germanic communities (6), their written and oral culture (7), and the painful process by which the Poor of Lyons were assimilated by the Reformation (8). An epilogue summarizes the later history of the Waldensian Church, which Audisio argues constitutes a complete break from their separate, medieval existence. BOOK REVIEWS 667 The balance between academic precision and the accessibility required for a textbook is not easy to achieve. Audisio quotes extensively from the work of other scholars (often otherwise unavailable in English),and although the lack of footnotes is sometimes frustrating, he provides convenient short bibliographies at the end of each chapter. Inevitably, much of the material is early modern, both because the sources are more abundant (and more independent by this date) and because this is Audisio’s own area of expertise. Indeed, his earlier work on wills from the Luberon area is particularly well integrated, while the first two ‘medieval’ chapters are the least convincing. The occasional dismissal of academic debates and his failure to provide a postscript updating the volume are also regrettable. Nonetheless, this will undoubtedly be a very useful classroom volume, finally allowing anglophone students to gain a better understanding of the lives of these ‘dissenters.’ FRANCES ANDREWS University of St Andrews 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 667 Margherita of Cortona and the Lorenzetti: Sienese Art and the Cult of a Holy Woman in Medieval Tuscany. By Joanna Cannon and André Vauchez. (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press. 1999. Pp. xviii, 275; color plates, 26; black and white photographs and figures, 204. $80.00.) In publishing this joint work of two powerfully professional and knowledgeable scholars, the Pennsylvania State University Press has produced a beautifully sumptuous book with a rich display of plates. The two scholars,Vauchez and Cannon, have appropriately assigned roles, but sometimes their voices merge as they argue unexceptionably the complementary value of verbal and visual saints’lives. This thesis can hardly seem surprising, at least to Italian and American historians of text and image,but it has seldom,if ever,been argued at such carefully detailed length, or about a saint wrapped in such problematic evidence. Margherita, already a potent local spiritual force, died in Cortona in 1297. She was not actually canonized until 1728, but during the long approach to that canonization water color representations of frescoes in the church of Margherita’s entombment were prepared, with which representations visitors in 1634 compared the now no longer but then existing (although damaged) frescoes on the walls. These destroyed but drawn frescoes, with remaining sepulchral sculpture, are the central component of the pictorial, sculptural, and architectural evidence with which Vauchez and Cannon extend the information provided by Margherita’s legenda with its attached miracles,which verbal material is in itself a complex document. The greatest value of this valuable book is its exposition of the two experts’ methods as they have disassembled and reassembled their evidence over their twenty years of co-operation. Readers are warned (p. 8) that if they are not art historians they may want to skip over the details of Cannon’s examination of her materials and their relation with contemporary work. This would be a mistake; the non-art historian particu- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 668 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS larly should watch her work, and watch emerging the cautious case for the involvement of the two Lorenzetti brothers in the Cortona paintings and the questioned effect of the “artistic language of Siena.” He or she should be forced to realize the richness of early fourteenth-century painted evidence in central Italy. Vauchez’s initial chapters are magisterial. His authority in dealing with saints’ lives is to be expected, but the mastery he shows in quickly establishing the skeletal history of a city is also impressive. Margherita herself,in so far as she appears, is stripped of distracting romantic color; and if there is some danger in segregating female saints in recent work, it is not encouraged here. Here, in these chapters, Vauchez offers a kind of model, not a model to be followed but one that will help other historians form and gauge their own work. Legenda, miracles, and visual-tactile evidence together are used in the book to show the local manipulation of the cult of this penitential nova Magdalena by various Franciscan and clerical interests and more successfully by communal forces. But the Vauchez-Cannon project is so vast and imposing that what it actually concludes in generalization, beyond its magnificent display of method, may seem a little anticlimactic. Perhaps the rather unsatisfactory figure of Margherita herself or the sketchy sources for her city are inhibiting—although Daniel Bornstein’s archival studies seem to suggest a denser city. Vauchez and Cannon are certainly aware of preceding work, like Bornstein’s; Anna Benvenuti Papi is gratefully presented. But sometimes there seems a difficulty in being magisterial;it permits a rather dismissive tone in dealing with earlier work of different purpose, and that, reading one’s colleagues scolded or ignored, can provoke an unattractive pettiness in a reader’s mind, of the sort that makes him ask, “Would the authors reconsider the meaning of the word ‘both’ as on page 171?” And that attitude unworthily disturbs the reader’s reception of this really quite wonderful book. ROBERT BRENTANO University of California, Berkeley 668 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Joan of Arc: The Early Debate. By Deborah A. Fraioli. (Rochester, New York: The Boydell Press. 2000. Pp. x, 235. $75.00.) So many layers, labels, and legends have been placed on the shoulders of Joan of Arc that it is easy to forget her first steps because of where they led her. Deborah A. Fraioli takes us back to the beginning of Joan’s story to ask a basic question: How did Joan persuade the dauphin, his courtiers, and, especially, his theologians that she was indeed sent by God? Fraioli reminds us that the answer to this question is absolutely crucial: if the dauphin had not been convinced of Joan’s authenticity, he surely would not have given her an army. To pursue this question, the author pays particular attention to the contemporary practice of discretio spirituum,especially via Jean Gerson’s De distinctione verarum visionum a falsis and De probatione spirituum, which influenced the dauphin’s investigators. BOOK REVIEWS 669 Fraioli largely confines herself to the documents that followed Joan on the first few months of her journey as her legitimacy was continually tested. As she correctly reminds us, “The medieval fear that Joan was a malignant force in league with the devil is sometimes unconsciously minimized by modern observers, many of whom overemphasize political motives at the expense of religious or quasi-religious ones” (p. 21). She first treats the initial correspondence between royal officials at Chinon and the theologian Jacques Gelu, and then moves on to De quadam puella, which provides the first evidence of Joan’s claim to have been sent directly by God without intermediaries—that is, as a prophet,which leads this anonymous author to evaluate her using scriptural evidence concerning prophecy. The brief conclusions drawn from the next inquiry, at Poitiers, reported Joan’s assertion that she was sent a Deo without denying or supporting it, but her examiners opened the road to Orléans so she could provide the miracle she promised. Fraioli then treats Joan’s Lettre aux Anglais, Gelu’s De puella aurelianensi dissertatio (in which he demonstrates a marked change of heart from his initial hesitancy of only a few months before), Christine de Pizan’s Ditié de Jehanne d’Arc, De mirabili victoria (which she does not believe came from Gerson), a segment from the Collectarium historiarum probably written by Jean Dupuy, the Burgundian “Reply of a Parisian cleric” refuting De mirabili victoria and laying out the charges ultimately placed against Joan in 1431,and finally thirty-two stanzas from Martin Le Franc’s Le champion des dames (which dates from 1442 and detracts from Fraioli’s early focus). Five of these documents appear in English translations as helpful appendices. Fraioli sheds light on the dating, authorship, and transmission of these texts as she places them in their chronological, religious, political, and gendered contexts. Her analyses are sometimes more literary than theological. Nevertheless,she frames interesting questions and makes thoughtful assessments. Even if all of her conclusions are not entirely convincing, she has returned the reader to critical texts worth further, careful investigation. CHRISTOPHER M. BELLITTO St. Joseph’s Seminary, Dunwoodie 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 669 Renaissance Humanism and the Papal Curia: Lapo da Castiglionchio the Younger’s De curiae commodis. By Christopher S. Celenza. [Papers and Monographs of the American Academy in Rome, Volume XXXI.] (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press. 1999. Pp. xiv, 244. $47.50.] Lapo da Castiglionchio was a humanist whose career was cut short by his death in 1438 at the age of thirty-three. A student of Filelfo’s, he knew Bruni,Alberti, and other humanists active in the spring of the humanist movement and had patrons in high ecclesiastical circles without ever being able to secure for himself a post he thought commensurate with his talent and training. Not on particularly friendly terms with Cosimo de’ Medici, he was especially eager to 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 670 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS acquire an office in the papal curia,which traditionally received expatriates like himself. Except for the De curiae commodis, his literary output was modest, consisting principally of translations of Greek works into Latin. Nonetheless, had he lived longer, as Celenza argues, there’s reason to think this “minor humanist” may have attained a certain renown. Lapo has been studied by Richard Scholz and more recently by Riccardo Fubini. Celenza builds on the work of these scholars with this critical Latin edition and English translation of the De commodis, along with an introduction of some hundred pages. The document merits attention. It is, ostensibly, a defense of the papal curia against its detractors and especially against criticism of its wealth. Lapo admits the curia contains some unworthy men but insists the good outnumber them. It is a place where he would be delighted to live and work and where he knows he would find the atmosphere conducive to an upright life. He justifies the wealth of the curia with the argument that times have changed since the days of Christ and the apostles. Celenza interprets the De commodis as a plea for an appointment to the curia that at the same time exposes the ethical inadequacy of many of its members. He points out this would seem to undercut Lapo’s hopes for an appointment were it not combined with praise for the curia’s potential for good. He sets it into the context of the early humanist movement with admirable erudition. He also tries to unravel some of the interpretative puzzles that arise with this fascinating text that provides a window into a culture far removed from our own. It was far removed from many people even in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It would have provoked ridicule had it fallen into the hands of the Franciscans and other critics of the curia. If Luther later had known of it, he would have laughed it to scorn, easily turning Lapo’s justifications into indictments. In 1914 Scholz published a basically reliable edition of the De commodis but from only one manuscript and in a journal not widely accessible. Celenza’s edition corrects Scholz in many instances and demonstrates a command of the readings of the various manuscripts. Though I noted a few faulty editorial decisions, the Latin text stands up well. While the translation needs polishing and is occasionally inaccurate, it conveys the sense of the Latin and will be of great help to anyone interested in an “insider’s view” of the curia just a century before the Reformation. In both the introduction and the translation I found Celenza’s syntax and usages distracting and noted a few minor inconsistencies in presentation. In a book like this that requires so many skills,few authors can get superlative grades in all of them, and they should be able to rely on the copyeditors and readers for their press to save them from certain blemishes. In that regard I’m not sure Celenza was well served by the University of Michigan Press. JOHN W. O’MALLEY, S.J. Weston Jesuit School of Theology BOOK REVIEWS 671 Early Modern European A History of Madness in Sixteenth-Century Germany. By H. C. Erik Midelfort. (Stanford: Stanford University Press. 1999. Pp. xvi, 438. $55.00.) Those who prefer close, contextual studies to the grand vistas of idealist histories have never warmed to the paradigm of “madness and civilization” proffered by Foucault and his disciples. For two decades H. C. Erik Midelfort has patiently laid siege to Foucault’s claim that fools and crazies graced the streets and rivers of early modern Europe before “the great confinement.” In his new book on madness in Germany from about 1480 to 1620, he gainsays that claim while providing new foundations for the study of madness, mental illness, and suicide. Midelfort does so with all the dexterity of an interdisciplinary historian: as a philologist well-versed in the vernacular and Latin traditions; as a historian of ideas competent to move easily between the specializations of theology, law, and medicine; and as a social historian capable of translating the raw data of archival registers and account books into meaningful narrative. To this rare combination of skills, he adds a keen sense of how it all fits together in its historical context, allowing the reader access to the wide-ranging experiences of madness among the historical agents and institutions under study. The panorama is shaped by a series of bird’s-eye views. After distancing himself from reductionist histories, preconceived notions of gender, and the terminology of modern psychology, Midelfort addresses the knotty language of his sources. Monastic doctors and clerical moralizers hardly suffered from the anxiety of influence; their “case histories” often confront the historian as nearverbatim borrowings from classic texts, problematizing the search for reliable data. The author emphasizes this issue and pursues it throughout: observation was often dependent on prior expectations, and the madness of artistic melancholy or outbreaks of St. Vitus’s dance were (and have continued to be) “created and structured” by various cultural traditions. Despite disagreements over particulars, consensus reigned on the perpetual activity of demonic forces, especially intense after 1560—a process Midelfort calls “the demonization of the world.” Contemporaries often experienced and characterized mental problems as demonic possession. There was a correlation between possession and the heightened insistence on piety and social disciplining in an age of increasing apocalyptic fervor. Whereas elite texts lead us to expect cases of possession to be both gender-specific and attributable to sinful ways, statistics drawn from the archives yield an eventual leveling of the sexes; Midelfort shows, too, that many victims had led, by all accounts, pious and upright lives before their troubles began. He presents a variety of examples to suggest that men and women, in the uninhibited language of the possessed,“constructed an idiom in which to experience and express their religious doubts and their miseries,” not in terms taught them by their admonishing clergy, but through a “grammar for their ex- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 672 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS perience of the world.” Aptly and ironically put,“diabolical obsession and possession is the dark side of the history of piety” (p. 78). Chapters 2–7 range from medical and legal theory to the creation of hospitals during the eras of reformation and confessionalization. Otherwise dissimilar thinkers like Luther and Paracelsus shared conceptions of sin as disease and of living “in these last days.” They agreed with contemporary Germans that God’s salvation was “an intensely rational, health-giving process” that ordered society without and justified within, producing an explicit demarcation between the “sanity” of the saved and the bestial irrationality of those Luther considered “heretics,” or those Paracelsus feared as the multiplying (non-denominational) hypocrites and anti-Christs of the End Time. Chapter 3 traces the rise of “Galenic observation” in the medical literature on mental disorders. Whereas academic physicians had combined a crude herbalism with a “popular spirit lore in which pharmacy was confused with demonology,” the reception of Aristotle, Hippocrates,and Galen after 1550 accompanied a renewed impetus toward clinical observation in an effort to isolate the causes of madness and depression. There, too, Midelfort traces an increased concern with the Devil as a potential causa, but notes that even the churches joined physicians in their efforts to diagnose demonic infection only after rigorous proof in which other physical explanations had been thoroughly exhausted. Accordingly, tensions escalated between popular belief and developing medical and theological theory. The discourse of doctors and theologians also made itself felt in the law courts, especially for the insanity defense (chap. 4). Johann Weyer’s influential De praestigiis daemonum (1563) forced jurists to take the testimony of medical experts seriously, even if they remained less receptive to Weyer’s innovative insistence that pacts with the Devil were impossible. In Weyer’s wake, the insanity defense entered a “strangely modern phase” in which the categories of melancholy and madness underwent further refinement. Midelfort devotes the rest of his study to getting as close to the “social reality” of madness and folly as his sources allow. Despite the images of wise and prophetic court fools bequeathed to posterity by literary texts, a closer look at the lives of these by and large “retarded naturals” reveals conditions of abuse and neglect, their use as comic relief, as well as their substantial cash value (chap. 5). Plagued by that incurable condition of “folly” and treated, accordingly, like children, such fools functioned less as sporadic sages than as foils to those evolving forms of courtly behavior described by Norbert Elias as the core of “the civilizing process.” In “Pilgrims in Search of their Reason” (chap. 6), some two thousand healings are analyzed on the basis of miracle books from Catholic shrines in the Rhineland, Franconia, and Bavaria-Austria. Although various forms of madness comprised only 4–8% of all those cured, these sources provide our closest contact with the experience of ordinary people. Midelfort corrects a number of misconceptions here, demonstrating that the mad, depressed, and suicidal hardly roamed freely. Rather, they were more often constrained by families and friends who, notwithstanding their assumptions about BOOK REVIEWS 673 demonic possession, had sought medical help before finally requesting divine intervention via pilgrimage. In an era of developing skepticism, such ritual penance and travel embodied, for the practitioners of popular religion, the advantages of traditional religiosity which Catholic authorities began to regulate after 1700. Finally (chap. 7), the author presents case studies of Protestant (Hesse) and Catholic (Würzburg) hospitals. Historians have come to recognize that monastic ethics were appropriated by practitioners of the urban reformation. In Hesse, several monasteries were turned into hospitals that, in their regimen of discipline, piety, and charity, embodied traditional monastic ideals. Reconstructing the details of daily life (caloric consumption included),Midelfort sketches the gradual development of social distinctions within hospital walls that mirrored the darker side of many late medieval cloisters. Nevertheless,common folk sought refuge in Hessian hospitals, which served as long-term care providers especially for the aged, lame, and orphaned. Though not without cages and cells for the wildly mad, significant numbers of the non-violent mentally ill desired and found permanent care. The data make clear that “these people were not part of an experiment in social discipline or victims of a ‘great confinement’” (p. 365). Given its breadth, Midelfort’s study will doubtless spark criticism from a few specialists writing from the myopic sanctuaries of their disciplines. Itself a coherent monograph, its chapters are calls for further researches in a number of fields. If the book has an implicit moral, then it seems less applicable to the presentist concerns of Foucault’s ‘historical’ project than it does to Anglo-American practitioners of that nebulous art,‘cultural history,’ in which references to the Parisian divine have pretended to an authority similar to that held by Scripture in sixteenth-century polemics. Midelfort’s book represents what cultural history should be: interdisciplinary, cautious, probing, and anchored in the languages (in the plural) of the surviving sources. If as a result historians may sometimes appear more like plodding pedants than cosmopolitan cultural critics, the payoff rests in scholarly production which,like this study,will enjoy a shelf life that long outlives fleeting methodological trends. JOHN M. FRYMIRE University of Arizona 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 673 The Last Generation of English Catholic Clergy: Parish Priests in the Diocese of Coventry and Lichfield in the Early Sixteenth Century. By Tim Cooper. [Studies in the History of Medieval Religion, Vol. XV.] (Rochester, New York: The Boydel Press. 1999. Pp. xvi, 236. $75.00.) This book is a study of the clergy who are listed in the Ordination Register of Bishop Geoffrey Blythe of Coventry and Lichfield Diocese. Since the register covers almost the first thirty years of the sixteenth century, and since the diocese extended from Lancashire to Warwickshire and from the Welsh border to 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 674 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Derbyshire, a great many clergy are involved, particularly because here, as elsewhere then, the numbers of ordinands were at their peak. Of course, a number of them served well into the century, and the author traces their later careers in so far as his limited sources make this possible. Apart from the vast ordination register, which is one of the fullest for this period, the bishop’s general register, and a clerical tax record for Staffordshire in 1533, other sources available to Dr. Cooper are disappointingly meagre and chiefly comprise a few churchwardens’ accounts, some late probate inventories, and not many texts of wills, together with three consistory court books (but only for the years from 1524 to 1531) and some published proceedings from the Court of Star Chamber. In the light of this evidence, Cooper reviews the familiar topics of patronage, clerical titles, employment, pluralism and non-residence, prosperity or penury, discipline, status, and professionalism. His study vividly confirms the findings from other dioceses. For example, competition for benefices is underlined when only seven percent of ordinands might expect to gain a benefice subsequently, and then after an average lapse of some seven years. On titles, Cooper shares Swanson’s view that they conceal arrangements for examining ordinands; yet the largest and the richest monastic houses (where a graduate was at least occasionally found) were surpassed in the granting of titles by the poorest and smallest houses, including nunneries, and by the Cistercian communities (which had few benefices at their disposal). The notion that such examining was farmed out to the monasteries needs rather more demonstration and argument than is offered here. The injurious consequences of non-residence for parishes seem to have been averted or mitigated in this diocese,as in others,by the abundance of parochial chaplains. Pensions, often more than the value of some livings, look suspiciously like mortgages paid by desperate aspirants; but here—as on other matters—the unpublished (but well-indexed) Early Chancery Proceedings in the Public Record Office might have been profitably explored. Nevertheless,Dr. Cooper has grappled commendably with an investigation made difficult by the capricious and sparse survival of source material, and he has usefully filled a gaping lacuna in the study of the pre-Reformation parish clergy. PETER HEATH University of Hull 674 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Die Konzilsfrage in den Flug- und Streitschriften des deutschen Sprachraumes, 1518–1563. By Thomas Brockmann. [Schriftenreihe der Historischen Kommission bei der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften,Vol. 57.] (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. 1998. Pp. 762. DM 164.00 paperback) During the past two decades, the value of German Reformation pamphlets as sources has been rediscovered,1 and these publications have been the subject 1 See Steven Ozment, “Pamphlet literature of the German Reformation”, in Reformation Europe: A Guide to Research, ed. Steven Ozment (St. Louis: Center for Reformation Research, 1982), pp. 85–105; for serious criticism—and emphatic defense—of the value BOOK REVIEWS 675 of a number of thorough, usually author-based studies.2 Thomas Brockmann’s dissertation, this time a topic-based study of German pamphlets dealing with conciliarism, represents a further important contribution to Flugschriften scholarship. Brockmann’s endeavor is extraordinarily ambitious, as he seeks to analyze all pamphlets (i.e., Latin as well as German pamphlets) that deal with the conciliar issue and were printed or distributed in German-speaking territories from the beginning of the Reformation (1518) until the end of the Council of Trent (1563). Not surprisingly, he comes up with 562 relevant pamphlets for this forty-five-year period. Although this is an enormous, indeed almost unwieldy body of sources, Brockmann does an excellent job of conducting a number of careful analyses of these printed pamphlets and arrives at convincing conclusions about them. The relationship between conciliarism and Reformation during the above period was anything other than predictable, as Brockmann shows. While contemporary observers believed they were seeing in Luther’s revolt against the papacy a rerun of fifteenth-century conciliaristic antipapalism (an important part of Luther’s strategy was, after all, the appeal to a council), this changed suddenly after the Leipzig dispute of 1519, during which the Saxon monk unexpectedly declared councils as well as the Pope to be fallible. Protestant pamphlets reflected this change by assuming an increasingly spiritualistic view of the church as an invisible entity defying identification with any one fallible human institution, reconfirming their early proclamation of Scripture as the sole authority in faith issues. Correspondingly, Catholic pamphleteers shifted their emphasis away from anticonciliarism toward the vigorous defense of the visible Catholic Church—including its councils!—as institutions endowed with Christ-given authority. Indeed,the defenders of the old faith exercised extreme restraint in the proclamation of anything that the Protestants could interpret as exaggerated papalism. What had begun as a conciliaristic dispute turned thus into an essentially ecclesiological debate. A new shift of paradigms came in 1533, when Protestants were forced to justify their refusal to participate in the council initiative put forth by Pope Clement VII, which also had the support of Emperor Charles V and of the Catholic estates. Not wanting to appear as solely responsible for the failure to come to an agreement, Protestant propaganda now took a curious pro-conciliar turn: it appealed to a future, “truly Christian” council, preferably a national allGerman council free of papal influence, and rejected the Pope’s conciliabulum of pamphlets as sources, see Ronnie Po-chia Hsia,“Anticlericalism in German Reformation Pamphlets: A Response”, in Anticlericalism in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe, eds. Peter Dykema and Heiko A. Oberman (Leiden: Brill, 1993), pp. 491–498, and Stephen E. Buckwalter, Die Priesterehe in Flugschriften der frühen Reformation (Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1998), pp. 20–21. 2 Two important examples (concentrating respectively on pamphlets written by laymen and by urban preachers): Miriam Usher Chrisman, Conflicting Visions of Reform: German Lay Propaganda Pamphlets, 1519–1530 (Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey: Humanities Press International,1996);Bernd Moeller and Karl Stackmann,Städtische Predigt in der Frühzeit der Reformation: Eine Untersuchung deutscher Flugschriften der Jahre 1522 bis 1529 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996). 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 676 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS for formal juridical reasons. Catholic pamphleteers, on the other hand, accused Protestants of fundamental anticonciliarism, of espousing heresies condemned by earlier councils, including the Council of Constance, and of essentially sabotaging all efforts to convene a legitimate council. A third turning-point in the pamphlet debate came in 1546 when the Council of Trent began its sessions and Charles V intensified his military pressure on the Protestant estates. For the first time, Protestantism had to confront the reality of a council actually taking place and at the same time experience painful military vulnerability. Protestant authors of pamphlets assumed once again a pronounced anticonciliar tone,renewing earlier appeals to the sole authority of Scripture and expressing fundamental theological objections to the ecclesiological validity of the assembly in Trent. This religious opposition was compounded by the parallel political antagonism between a pro-conciliar Emperor seeking to unify the Empire under his command and anti-conciliar territorial Princes intent on conserving the power gained through the Reformation. However, it was the legalization of Lutheranism at the Peace of Augsburg in 1555 which brought the conciliar debate between German Protestants and Catholics to an end. Not the theological opinion of Protestant pamphleteers, but imperial law itself now stood in opposition to Catholic conciliaristic convictions and undermined the continuing work at Trent. To be sure, this did not prevent the Protestants from devoting significant energy in the 1560’s to the continued publication of anti-conciliar pamphlets attacking the Tridentine resolutions. Brockmann’s statistical analyses are illuminating: with the sole exception of the period 1518/19, during which we find just as many pamphlets proceeding from Reformation opponents as from its supporters, it was the Protestants who always numerically dominated the market of pamphlets dealing with the council issue, particularly during the years 1546–1563, when they published 70.3% of these pamphlets. For the whole period there are, in terms of individual titles, twice as many Protestant pamphlets dealing with conciliarism as Catholic ones, and if one takes the number of editions into account, even three times as much. Also in terms of the language used,it was the Protestant side of the council debate which got a wider hearing: almost 43% of all Catholic pamphlets on conciliarism were written exclusively in Latin, but only 19% of the Protestant ones, findings which parallel those for pamphlets on other topics during the early Reformation. Brockmann’s study is an indispensable companion to Jedin’s History of the Council of Trent, providing a detailed glimpse into the complex plethora of voices, both Protestant and Catholic, which led up to and accompanied this central event, all of which attempted to put the propagandistic and communicational uses of recently invented movable type to work for their own cause. Readers less versant in German and intimidated by the 762 pages of this ponderous tome will be thankful for the numerous self-explaining diagrams at the end of the volume (pp. 678–695), which reproduce the results of Brockmann’s study with great clarity. STEPHEN E. BUCKWALTER Bucer-Forschungsstelle Heidelberg, Germany BOOK REVIEWS 677 Martin Luther as Prophet, Teacher, Hero: Images of the Reformer, 1520–1620. By Robert Kolb. [Texts & Studies in Reformation and Post-Reformation Thought.] (Grand Rapids: Baker Books. 1999. Pp. 278. $21.99 paperback.) This study examines “the ways in which Luther’s image and thought shaped Lutheran thinking and action during the century following his appearance on the stage of Western history” (p. 10). Three conceptions of the Reformer—as prophet, teacher, and hero—emerge, reflecting a variety of needs in his society and the new church whose founder he became. During his own lifetime and immediately thereafter, Martin Luther was often identified with the biblical prophets Elijah, Enoch, and the angel of the Apocalypse as having a unique authority from God to challenge the power of the Roman Catholic Church. As Luther’s call for reform was institutionalized,and his church refused to concede interpretative authority to popes and councils, a new secondary-level authority had to be found to interpret passages of Scripture which did not self-evidently interpret themselves. Luther’s follower’s initially turned to his writings,but strife between the Gnesio-Lutherans and Philippists over the proper interpretation of the Reformer’s message soon made it clear that this corpus was too cumbersome and contradictory to serve as a secondary authority. Lutherans managed to resolve most of these differences with their Formula of Concord (1577). It no longer accorded adjudicatory authority to Luther, but to the confessional writings which came to constitute the Book of Concord. While the Reformer’s prophetic authority had faded by the end of the century, he “remained for his followers a most valuable and trusted instructor” (p. 120), especially in the sacramentarian controversies of the period. He was also celebrated in art, drama, and during the Reformation’s anniversaries as a heroic figure who had defended the gospel and opposed papal oppression. In short,“Luther’s memory lived, and his voice was heard, but his authority had been tamed” (p. 134). In tracing the development of these three interrelated conceptions of Luther from 1520 to 1620, Kolb, true to form, provides the reader with a veritable cornucopia of bibliographic information, with copious footnotes, citations, and synopses of the works of the first three generations of Lutheran commentators and editors. Kolb has limited himself to German Lutheran authors, mostly from regions that accepted the Formula of Concord; he does not treat the Reformer’s reception in non-German-speaking lands that also embraced his evangelical creed. And he says little about the German Reformed attitude toward the Wittenberg reformer. While not according him the authority that Lutherans were wont to grant him, Germany’s Reformed, as evidenced by the 1617 jubilee celebrations for which they provided the initial impetus, did honor the former Augustinian monk as the man who initiated the Protestant Reformation and, unlike Calvinists elsewhere,frequently used and cited his writings. These minor quibbles, however, do not diminish Kolb’s major accomplishment that readers of this journal will find both fascinating and stimulating: By tracing the changing interpretations of Martin Luther’s work, Robert Kolb has shown how early modern Lutherans, after repudiating the power of popes and councils, wrestled with the question of authority and ultimately resolved it by transferring the nor- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 678 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS mative guidance they first had placed in Luther and his writings to their church’s confessional documents. BODO NISCHAN East Carolina University 678 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Judging the French Reformation: Heresy Trials by Sixteenth-Century Parlements. By William Monter. [Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. 1999. Pp. ix, 324. $49.95.] William Monter’s Judging the French Reformation thoroughly revises our understanding of the persecution of Protestants in sixteenth-century France. Monter shows that the traditional view that the repression of heresy in French courts increased in intensity as the Protestant movement grew and organized owes more to legend than to history. It is based on extrapolation from sixteenthcentury Protestant martyrologies and not on systematic archival research. The reason that no one had previously tested the thesis became evident to Monter when he announced his ambition of seeking out the records of all of the heresy cases remaining in the archives of the French Parlements for the period between the first prosecutions in the 1520’s and the outbreak of religious war in the 1560’s. The task, he was told, was impossible. The eight to ten Parlements operating in this period had left too many records, and they were too poorly organized and too poorly catalogued for a single scholar to work through in a single lifetime. Happily, Monter proved the naysayers wrong. With his usual diligence,a gift for getting quickly to the heart of the matter,and a real talent for synthesis, he dove into the archives, recovered the relevant cases, and reemerged with a powerfully convincing story—a story that turns the traditional view on its head. The French courts did not steadily increase their repression of the Protestant heresy as the movement grew and organized with the arrival of Calvinist ministers from Geneva and the organization of clandestine churches. Rather the courts were, from the 1520’s, eager to take the initiative for the repression of heresy through legal means. Their efforts, however, were met with impediments that were both technical—that is to say, ingrained in the cumbersome mechanics of the legal process—and political in nature. Even before Catherine de’ Medici, serving as regent for her young son Charles IX, effectively decriminalized Protestant worship in late 1560, the ability of the courts successfully to prosecute Protestant believers for heresy had been seriously undermined. Indeed, the high point of judicial repression was actually reached during the last years of the reign of Francis I, and not under Henry II, as has usually been assumed. The infamous “Chambre ardente” introduced by Henry II “did not maintain existing levels of antiheretical activity at Paris, let alone increase them” (p. 116). BOOK REVIEWS 679 Monter has grounded his work in careful study of the French legal system, and his book usefully explains how the criminal-justice system worked, as well as explaining the limits of the system as a tool against heresy. Some readers may wish for more concrete explanations of the motivations of the judges, but Monter is surely wise in refraining from too much speculation here. Judicial decisions are both formulaic and terse; they seldom explain adequately the reasoning that went into them. In addition, the variety of viewpoints the judges brought to their decisions on the heresy cases makes generalizations risky. If many judges were committed Catholics eager to use the sword of royal justice for the defense of the faith, there were also Protestant sympathizers on many of the courts. This is a book that all historians interested in the interaction of politics and religion in early modern Europe will want to read. BARBARA B. DIEFENDORF Boston University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 679 Liturgy, Politics, and Salvation: The Catholic League in Paris and the Nature of Catholic Reform, 1540–1630. By Ann W. Ramsey. (Rochester, New York: University of Rochester Press. 1999. Pp. xiii, 447. $99.00.) Interest in the French Catholic League remains strong nearly forty years after social historians began to investigate the social tensions and divisions they deemed responsible for its formation. More recently the focus has been on the religious motivation of the Leaguers. Ann Ramsey has made a major contribution in demonstrating further the religious factors in the League and showing that the era of the League was a crucial phase in the transformation of Catholic piety. She has analyzed over 1,200 wills from Catholic testators from 1543–44, 1590, and 1630 to trace the changing nature of Catholic devotion. She uses 1543–44 because the testators represent a generation of Catholics still largely traditional in their religion. Over half of her wills come from 1590, when there was an extraordinarily high mortality rate in Paris because of Henry of Navarre’s siege of the city; they allow the author to examine Catholic devotion at the height of Leaguer control of Paris. The year 1630 provides her with a point sufficiently far into the era of Catholic reform to provide a legitimate comparison. What Ramsey looked for in the wills was evidence of performativity, immanence, and transcendence. By performativity she means those acts of religious ritual and symbolism such as providing for banquets, the ringing of church bells, and the presence of the poor in conjunction with funerals that confirm the presence of the spiritual within the physical world. It is very closely tied to immanence, for which the doctrine of transubstantiation is the most powerful example. Not only the Protestants but also the Council of Trent to a large extent sought to reduce the traditional Catholic sense of immanence and make the divine more transcendental, that is, removed from the physical world. Ramsey’s 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 680 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS analysis of the wills from 1543–44 in respect to the acts that the testators requested be carried out after their deaths reveals that Parisians were still traditional in their approach to religion. She finds in the 1590 wills a sharp distinction between those she has identified as Leaguers and those as Politiques, although the majority of the testators go undefined by party because of lack of evidence. She included as Leaguers not only those indicated by other sources as involved in the League but also those who have notaries and priests with known Leaguer sympathies involved in their last acts. The Leaguers almost always requested acts of traditional religious symbolism, while the Politiques rarely did. By 1630 Catholic reform had succeeded in drastically reducing performativity. Ramsey provides persuasive evidence of the importance of maintaining traditional religion as a motivation for the Leaguers. She has expanded considerably the number of persons who can be identified as Leaguers and proposes that those whom she cannot categorize were Leaguer sympathizers as well if they reveal extensive performativity in their wills. She shows the appeal of the League to those associated with the University of Paris and in the legal profession. The author points out how the Leaguer wills often reveal a strong sense of French patriotism, refuting the Politique historians and modern secularist historians who reserve that virtue to the Politiques. This is an important book, highly innovative in its methodology and research, but it is also a dense and difficult work, closely argued and heavily dependent on its tables and appendices, which make up about a third of it. It reaches important conclusions in its own right as well as pointing the way to further research on the Catholic League and Catholic reform. FREDERIC J. BAUMGARTNER Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University 680 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Humanist Taste and Franciscan Values: Cornelio Musso and Catholic Preaching in Sixteenth-Century Italy. By Corrie E. Norman. [Renaissance and Baroque Studies and Texts, Volume 24.] (New York: Peter Lang. 1998. Pp. ix, 188. $43.95.) Numerous excellent studies on preaching in late medieval/early modern Europe have appeared in recent years. Norman’s study of Cornelio Musso (1511–1574) is an important addition to Italian preaching history and historiography in the period of the Catholic Reform. Described as a “modern Demosthenes” or the “Chrysostom of Italy,” Musso fused, however uneasily, traditional Franciscan values with humanist rhetoric. Based on 159 vernacular Lenten and occasional sermons, the publication of which was overseen by the preacher, Norman argues persuasively that the BOOK REVIEWS 681 printed versions are generally accurate renderings of what was actually preached, for despite additions, there is evidence of awkwardness and spontaneity. Earlier studies of Musso have compartmentalized him as a theologian, Tridentine reformer, or bishop, but few have examined the complicated preacher whose Franciscan training was influenced by Renaissance ideals of sacred oratory. Before becoming bishop, “Musso defined his role as a prophet sent to reform a wayward and troubled people” (p. 28); yet he was unabashedly innovative. Depending on the perspective of the commentator, his sermons were considered either noble or lavish. A personification of the “embellished [Franciscan] trumpet” (p. 61), Musso combined affective moral/penitential admonition with the humanist’s appreciation of eloquence. Norman asserts he maintained a balance, despite his love of “splendid metaphors” and delight in the musical cadences of Italian. He did so by painting vivid pictures with his words, bringing the theological/spiritual message alive for his listeners. Besides the admirers who applauded his approach (some labeling it “tasteful”), there were numerous critics who felt his “luxurious” style and pagan analogies were scandalous. Theatrics in preaching were by no means confined to Franciscans or this time period. But Musso was famed for his role-playing, acting the parts of midwife, prostitute, Marc Antony, and others to convey his message. Yet Musso was equally capable of preaching with “shocking simplicity.” He railed against scholasticism in popular preaching, warning his clergy against disputations that were out of place in a popular setting. Norman sums up Musso’s career as a balancing act, one in which “. . . two polyphonic themes played side by side, only harmonizing for brief instances” (p. 83). But like other great preachers, Musso tailored his message to the audience. With her study of Musso,Norman offers a new and impressive analysis of hope and fear, a topic that has intrigued many modern scholars yet often been misunderstood. Challenging Jean Delumeau’s contention that “Franciscan preaching . . . [was] a primary contributor to the propagation of anxiety and fear . . .” (p. 97) based on “. . . a skewed reading of scripture . . .” (p. 101),Norman points out the fundamental distortion that results if we do not take into account Musso’s (or any preacher’s) philosophy of preaching and the raison d’être of sermons. A preacher’s goal was to instill in his listeners the Christian message, offering them the promise of eternal life, but encouraging (sometimes in fearful terms) personal reformation. However theatrical Musso’s presentation may have been at times, it was pedagogically sound and suited to his listeners. Early modern preaching strove for a middle ground between hope and fear. The author thus offers an understanding of the normative nature of paradox, providing an essential historiographical corrective to what is too often a selective reading and understanding of sermons. Paradox,as exemplified by Musso,is not so very different from balance. LARISSA TAYLOR Colby College 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 682 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS The Crime of Crimes: Demonology and Politics in France 1560–1620. By Jonathan L. Pearl. (Waterloo, Ontario: Wilfrid Laurier University Press. 1999. Pp. viii, 181. $39.95.) Jonathan Pearl’s study of French demonological thought during the Wars of Religion advances three related arguments. The first is that only a relatively small minority of the learned elite in France subscribed to what might be referred to as extreme demonological beliefs. The second argument is that relatively few executions occurred in the kingdom of France during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Professor Pearl attributes this low number to the way in which the French judicial system functioned, especially the strict evidentiary standards it upheld and the mandatory review of capital sentences by the regional parlements. If the demonologists wished to inspire large-scale witch-hunting (and it is not clear that they did), the judges of the courts, who generally did not harbor extreme witchcraft beliefs, prevented them from doing so. The third and most important argument of the book is that the most intolerant expression of demonological thought came from members of the Catholic zealot party, which after 1584 was known as the Catholic League. These ideologues identified their Protestant and Catholic politique adversaries, including many of the judges who were lenient toward witchcraft, as part of a satanic conspiracy against Tridentine Catholicism. The most prominent of these Catholic zealots was the Jesuit theologian Jean Maldonat, who influenced an entire generation of demonologists, including Martin del Rio. Maldonat and his followers used demonology as a rhetorical political weapon in order to classify Protestants as moral and political subversives whose heresy allied them with the Devil and witches. This thesis has the virtues of simplicity and clarity, but Pearl’s identification of three “adversaries” of the Catholic zealots’ political demonology raises questions about its applicability. It makes sense that the humanist Michel de Montaigne, who was skeptical of witchcraft beliefs, would be included among this group, but it is less obvious why Estienne Pasquier, who apparently wrote nothing about witchcraft, is linked with him. The most surprising “adversary” is Jean Bodin, the jurist and political theorist who wrote De la démonomanie des sorciers (1580). A revisionist interpretation of Bodin might put him in the same camp as other politique magistrates, since Bodin did demand more judicial caution in witchcraft cases than he is usually given credit for. But the differences between Bodin’s demonology and that of the Catholic zealots were hardly fundamental, and on some issues, such as the reality of lycanthropy, his views were more extreme and credulous than theirs. Bodin was in many respects closer to the Catholic zealot party than to Montaigne. The difficulty of placing individual French demonologists in one ideological camp or the other becomes even greater in the last chapter,which is devoted to BOOK REVIEWS 683 the famous witch-hunter and demonologist, Pierre de Lancre. As this chapter unfolds it becomes increasingly difficult to see how de Lancre’s demonology and his judicial conduct in the witch-hunt of 1609 in the Basque-speaking Labourd region support the main thesis of the book. The assertion that de Lancre was not a typical judge or demonologist does not help to resolve the problem. Pearl presents a plausible argument regarding the political inspiration of French demonological thought, but he leaves the reader looking for clearer and more illustrative examples. In this book the devil is in the details. BRIAN P. LEVACK University of Texas at Austin 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 683 The Power of Kings: Monarchy and Religion in Europe, 1589–1715. By Paul Kléber Monod. (New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press. 1999. Pp. x, 417. $35.00.) By his own admission Monod found it necessary to narrow the scope of his project by eliminating a consideration of monarchy and religion in Africa and Asia. Nevertheless, he has produced an impressive study of the evolution of monarchy in early modern Europe from an institution that represented godly ideals to one that had begun to absorb the rationalism of enlightened liberalism. Even with a narrower focus, his finished product will be a challenging and stimulating exercise for readers interested in the history of ideas. His research has resulted in an impressive array of primary and secondary sources in several languages,which are displayed in more than seventy-five pages of notes. He will utilize the observations of a wide range of famous and ordinary contemporaries to support his arguments. As a scholar of English history, Monod is obviously more familiar with western European conditions; however, he includes material from translations pertaining to Scandinavian, Polish, and Russian experiences in order to treat Europe as a whole. His comparative analyses demonstrate that he has mastered the political and religious details and their implications;moreover, he fortifies and expands upon many of his arguments with references to philosophy, social theory, anthropology, and literature. One will also discover photographs of thirty-five paintings and statues associated with the images of kingship that are deftly assessed in the text. In his introductory chapter Monod defines and discusses terminology that will be applied consistently as his story unfolds. Unlike other studies that deal with the exercise of monarchical power, he indicates that he will place more emphasis on the importance of religious beliefs. For instance he points out how Renaissance humanism began to challenge traditional Christian views at a time when monarchs were faced with a substantial population increase, dynamic economic change, and escalating social instability, conditions that weakened their authority. Royal efforts toward centralization were hampered by the 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 684 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS lack of funds even before the Reformation further complicated the governing process. A reconstruction of the monarchy along very different lines will be addressed in subsequent chapters arranged chronologically, beginning with the assassination of Henry III of France in 1589 and concluding with the death of Louis XIV 126 years later. For Monod Henry’s murder was a signal that the sacred monarchy was in considerable trouble. Both Catholic and Protestant reformers had started to question the mystical attributes of kingship and to challenge the courts’ secular activities, while promoting a spiritual purification. When monarchs failed to make the desired responses, these representatives of the Christian Right, fearing a loss of their identity, adopted violent measures until they were frightened by revolutionary extremism. While these devoted Christians were arriving at the conclusion that support of monarchy was the only way to maintain order, the kings had turned to the techniques of public theater like rituals, ceremonies, paintings, and literature to create a more human face. Monod believes that this theater of royal virtue, which he has explored in depth with numerous pertinent examples, represented the initial stage in the formation of a rational state, but as he has demonstrated in his investigation of the various royal families, it would take several decades before the kings as mere mortals could secure stable agreements with their subjects. Contributing to this process was the rise of patriotism, a by-product of international politics and warfare,which weakened confessional rivalries and religious intensity. However,for many zealous Christians the rational state would remain morally and religiously disturbing, even for those who gained the most from its development. Monod’s ambitious undertaking will be welcomed by scholars who are interested in a thought-provoking and well-focused monograph. THOMAS M. KEEFE St. Joseph’s University (Philadelphia) 684 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS The Idolatrous Eye: Iconoclasm and Theater in Early-Modern England. By Michael O’Connell. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2000. Pp. ix, 198. $45.00.) The value of this brief but closely argued study lies in its account of English drama under the shadow of iconoclasm, between the disappearance of the great biblical cycles after the mid-sixteenth century and the sudden flowering of the public theater in the 1590’s. Even for students of the period, these years represent something of a black hole. The earlier tradition, we know, fell before a tide of Protestant antitheatricalism that condemned the staging of God’s Word, and especially the representation of the Father and the Son as characters in a popular entertainment. The latter, secular, drama of the public playhouse, we know, arose in some suggestive but unspecified relation to what it had sup- BOOK REVIEWS 685 planted, skirting the censor but haunted by the ghosts of the biblical cycles. What bridges the gap? O’Connell emphasizes that the suppression of a tradition of local drama going back to the fourteenth century was (so far as we can tell from records preserved at York and Chester) opposed by local authorities. Its disappearance reflects not simply the victory of an anti-iconic theology over an “incarnational” drama,but a contested centripetal movement of cultural and political authority toward London (pp. 91–92). Some attempts were made to “reform” the biblical cycles by producing a kind of hybrid: plays on biblical themes (notably, by the indefatigable John Bale) still showed Christ on stage but relied more on homiletic commentary and moralizing than on the affective impact of the actors’ bodies. This “textualization” of God’s body is the theme of O’Connell’s central, and most interesting,chapter,which focuses on Lewis Wager’s The Life and Repentaunce of Marie Magdalene, Thomas Lodge and Robert Greene’s A Looking Glasse for London and England,and George Peele’s David and Bathsabe. Far from an outright rejection of cycle tradition, these plays reflect a complex process of negotiation and experiment intended to graft a new sensibility onto the stock of a still vital older drama. Lodge and Greene combine a biblical narrative about the conversion of the sinful city of Nineveh (London’s “looking glasse”) with the “new Marlovian fashions” for “high-flown rhetoric . . . flaunted sexual taboos, cheeky low-life characters [and] spectacular stage effects” (p. 107). David and Bathsabe “represents the final transformation of the Protestant biblical play into history play” (p. 108)—thus, it might be observed, supplying the missing link from the earlier tradition to Shakespeare’s English histories, which typically work by fitting chronicle material (the deposition of Richard II, for example) onto the armature of a biblical narrative (Cain and Abel). Interestingly, as late as 1602 Philip Henslowe was involved in promoting a number of plays on predominantly Old Testament themes, likely in an (unsuccessful) attempt, O’Connell argues, to cultivate the taste for a reformed biblical drama among an urban, Protestant audience. Largely due to this failure, much of the evidence O’Connell examines is fragmentary and conjectural: we have in some cases only the titles of plays of which there is no surviving text and no record of any performance. Given this tenuous state of affairs, The Idolatrous Eye succeeds admirably in reconstructing the outline of a dramatic history that can never be fully documented. It must be said that I have been concentrating on the meat of O’Connell’s argument. This central chapter is preceded by a discussion of the iconoclastic reaction to the earlier drama and followed by a cursory glance at Shakespeare and Jonson. For those already familiar with the criticism in this area, the present work will add little new to our knowledge of Jonson’s vexed relation to the visual aspect of his own drama, or of Shakespeare’s self-reflexivity—neither of which is convincingly connected to the preceding narrative. Nonetheless, 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 686 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Newsletters From the Archpresbyterate of George Birkhead. Edited by Michael C. Questier. [Camden Fifth Series, Volume 12.] (New York: Cambridge University Press for the Royal Historical Society. 1998. Pp. xiv, 307. $64.95.) George Birkhead was appointed Archpriest, in modern terms, the administrative head, of the English secular clergy in late 1608, following Rome’s dismissal of George Blackwell, his predecessor, who had been coerced into taking the oath of allegiance imposed by King James. Until his death in early April, 1614, Birkhead and his assistant clergy wrote newsletters to their agent in Rome, who relied on this information to prepare reports and petitions to the Papal Curia on their behalf. Although these officials obviously had other sources, these newsletters retained a unique role as a guide to the state of English Catholicism and the outlook of its clergy’s leadership. In his highly informed introduction, Dr. Questier noted that these writers rarely focused on routine polemical or ecclesiastical affairs. Instead they ranged widely in their choice, but normally “one obtains a Catholic gloss” on the items (p. 34), so that there is revealed “a great deal about the clerical network” behind the letters, as well as “how English Catholicism worked politically.” For this edition, Questier has selected fifty-six very interesting letters written during Birkhead’s tenure, which have been preserved in the archives of the Archdiocese of Westminster,fifteen of which are in Birkhead’s own hand,though signed with an alias. It is clear that he regularly advised his priests to avoid the oath of allegiance and quietly advised them not to be optimistic about their petition to Rome for an English bishop at least during these years. Gratified by his diligent performance while enduring ill health, the Roman Curia raised him to the rank of protonotary. The agent in Rome, who was responsible from late 1610 to 1614 for relaying these reports, was Thomas More, a descendant of the martyred chancellor, and a relative of the 2nd Viscount Montague, who sheltered the archpriest at his Sussex estate. Father More’s valuable summaries of this correspondence for the Curia do not survive, but readers will discover that an unusual variety of issues were touched upon. For instance, there was an animus among some (not all) of the clergy against the Jesuit presence in England which was the source of petitions to have Rome recall them from Britain. Other letters describe some secret diplomatic overtures at Catholic courts on the continent to find a consort for James’s heir, Prince Henry, despite his known disapproval of a Catholic match. Others give bulletins about the little-known activities of Catholic diplomats at the courts of both Queen Anne and King James. Above all, the letters provided firsthand evidence of the martyrdoms which edified not only Rome but the Catholic reading public on the continent, for they stressed that the victims suffered for religion BOOK REVIEWS 687 and not treason as English diplomats argued. This unwanted publicity remained an embarrassment to James and prodded him to have a more tolerant policy. With meticulous footnotes on every page to give the context, or the identities, of unfamiliar events Dr. Questier has produced a new primary source for the religious and social history of the Catholics in the first decade of James I. ALBERT J. LOOMIE, S.J. Fordham University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 687 Im Zeichen der Krise. Religiosität im Europa des 17. Jahrhunderts. Edited by Hartmut Lehmann and Anne-Charlott Trepp. [Veröffentlichungen des Max-Planck-Instituts für Geschichte 152.] (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. 1999. Pp. 645.) This book is the result of an interdisciplinary conference held at the MaxPlanck-Institute of History at Göttingen in June of 1996 to discuss the state of Christian influence at the close of the Confessional Age and to find the preconditions and prejudices upon which the subsequent Enlightenment was to build. The work contains thirty-two contributions by thirty-one authors from Germany, Switzerland, France, England, and the United States. These are divided into six sections dealing with prophecies and prodigies including monstrosities; plagues, hunger, disease, and death; the relations between Christians and Jews; the presence of marginal outsiders, such as witches, specters, and demons; the relationship between the old and new sciences and the interpretation of the world; and the transformation of the sacred, including the influence of Stoicism, libertinage, and atheism. For each section there is an introduction, which might variously be a summary, a critique, or even a reinterpretation. Given the location of the meeting,it should come as no surprise that on balance there was a preponderance of Lutheran influence among the contributions, although Calvinism and Catholicism were also represented, the latter particularly in the final section. It would exceed the constraints imposed by a brief review such as this to discuss all the articles with their variegated and divergent topics and approaches. As Hartmut Lehmann put it in his general introduction, their consensus hints at a change in the religious condition during the 1570’s, particularly at a decline in eschatological thought. Then at the start of the seventeenth century the Confessional Age of the previous century gradually gave place to a prolonged period of disciplining, both social and religious. This transition caused some disorientation, which usually accompanies unknown changes. The popular response to omens, such as comets and births of monstrosities, had been, especially among Lutherans, an apocalyptic one, indicating the nearness of the Last Judgment. By the middle of the seventeenth century, however, at the close of the Thirty Years’War, they began to be taken as a warning by God of unpleasant things to come, instead. Such interpretations served as a substitute for the absence of scientific explanations. Added to this was the fact that pre-Christian magical thought had not been totally eliminated from 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 688 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS popular thought and practice. Ordinary people did not think of magic and Christianity as two competing, but rather as two complementary, systems, both permitted by God to help people survive the rigors of life in the seventeenth century. Magic certainly was not a sign of unbelief or defective religiosity. The Lutheran attitude toward the Jews was ambivalent. During the earlier eschatological phase with their expected conversion,Jews were regarded in a more tolerant light. Indeed, they became unbeknownst drawn into the confessional strife between Catholics and Protestants,each accusing the other of “judaizing.” Yet with the failure of the Jews to respond, orthodox Lutheranism followed Calvinism and Catholicism in assuming a more hostile attitude toward them. Even the rare Jewish convert was mistrusted. Indeed, the growing Protestant Hebrew scholarship, bringing with it a new comprehension of the Old Testament, strengthened the Protestant claim that they were now the “new Israel.” Thus, while the socio-economic and legal conditions of Jewry slowly improved, ecclesiastical anti-Semitism hardened. Vagrants, beggars, suicides, and, of course, witches,constituted the other marginalized group. In general,a more moderate, secularized approach to these categories emerged, although the popular attitude toward vagrants was harsher in Germany than in France. In France the myth of a counter-cultural hierarchy of the underworld tended to mitigate the picture, but such was lacking in Germany. Suicide, or rather the disposal of the corpse of one, was to become a point of conflict in the jurisdictional struggle between the church and the emerging power of the territorial princes. Christian Thomasius became the foremost legal spokesman for the secular power. The continuities between the old sciences, as astrology and alchemy, and the modern sciences, as well as the slow transformation from the idea of an animate to a mechanistic universe in the thought of Kepler, Newton, and Leibniz, follows. In one article Colin Russell argues the significance of theology, as distinct from popular piety, in the development of modern science, among which was the Protestant doctrine of “the priesthood of all believers,” which empirically implied a rejection of the clerical monopoly of truth and encouraged lay persons to search for their own knowledge. Finally, there was the transformation of the sacred. Since the second half of the sixteenth century pagan Stoicism, first through Seneca, then through Lipsius’ edition of Tacitus, triumphed over the earlier Augustinianism. Simultaneously, as a consequence of the Council of Trent, an aggiornamento of the veneration of saints occurred. In contrast to the medieval contemplative company of saints, frequently grouped together, we now had the modern individual active saint, for example Loyola, taking his or her place alongside the Marian renewal. HANNS GROSS Loyola University, Chicago Emeritus BOOK REVIEWS 689 En Sorbonne, Autour des Provinciales: Édition critique des Mémoires de l’Abbé de Beaubrun,1655–1656. By Jacques M. Gres-Gayer. [Collection des Mélanges de la Bibliothèque de La Sorbonne, 24.] (Paris: Klincksieck. 1997. Pp. xxviii, 1081.) Blaise Pascal’s Provincial Letters remain a masterpiece of irony and satire which succeeded all too well. Over three hundred years later, they continue to seduce readers into taking the side of an extreme, if not outright fundamentalist, theological position which most would reject if they knew the complete story. The story, that of the condemnation of Antoine Arnauld by the theological faculty of the Sorbonne, remains in the collective memory largely because of the existence of the Provincial Letters. However, as Jacques Gres-Gayer notes in his remarkable preface to the volume, the very purpose of at least the first three of the Provinciales is to dismiss the importance of the affaire Arnauld. For Gres-Gayer, the whole story of Arnauld’s condemnation is of huge significance to the modern historian of theology because it so clearly reveals those great theological themes which, over and over, divided post-Tridentine Catholicism. The Mémoires of Beaubrun, which constitute only a single volume of GresGayer’s immense project—a study of the Sorbonne during the reign of Louis XIV—are not mémoires in the usual sense of reminiscences. Rather, they are Beaubrun’s presentation (in view of publication) of the complete dossier of documents dealing with the censure of Arnauld. Indeed, this dossier represents one of the principal sources used by Gres-Gayer himself in his monumental study Le Jansénisme en Sorbonne, 1643–1656 (Paris, 1996) (reviewed ante, LXXIV [January,1998],117–118). Though they intersect with Pascal’s Provincial Letters because Arnauld’s censure provoked the work, Beaubrun’s minutely detailed dossiers hardly make for the kind of exciting reading that the Provincials afford. However, now that we have access to them via Gres-Gayer’s magnificent critical edition, they will serve to underscore the many polemical liberties taken by Pascal in his attempt to discredit and dismiss the Sorbonne’s condemnation of Arnauld. Whereas Pascal’s Thomists are nothing short of cryptoMolinists, the Mémoires reveal that there were few, if any, hard-core Molinists among the Faculty. And the more moderate school of Molinists known as the congruists were as adamantly opposed by the Thomists as by the Augustinians. Whereas Pascal’s first three Lettres ridicule the debate in the Sorbonne as an exercise in incomprehensibility, a reading of Beaubrun leads Gres-Gayer to conclude that a serious and wide-ranging debate of the subject of grace indeed did take place within a perspective which was essentially Thomist and greatly influenced by the decisions of the Council of Trent. Moreover, Beaubrun’s observations suggest that in spite of the political pressures being applied from all sides, a significant number of the doctors sought to find “un accommodement permettant de sauver l’honneur de tous et de maintenir la paix” (p. 19). Though Beaubrun’s Mémoires are patently polemical and seek to justify Arnauld’s position after his censure, they at times reveal a deeply intransigent Ar- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 690 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS nauld so obsessed with refuting any possibility that human will might ever be thought to play any role whatsoever in the efficacy of grace that he comes dangerously close to contradicting the spirit, if not the letter, of the Tridentine decisions on the matter. One can certainly understand how his adversaries could come to think that he denied any form of grace whose action might involve any degree of human co-operation. Gres-Gayer finds the charge of heresy excessive and points to the blatantly political motivation of the censure: destroying the “Jansenist party” by qualifying its principal theologian as a heretic.Yet he goes on to point out why many of the doctors who might have otherwise been sympathetic to Arnauld joined the censure:“Arnauld a été sanctionné parce que par sa réflexion théologique il arrivait à des conclusions en contradiction flagrante avec celles du magistère ecclésiastique” (p. 36). Professor Gres-Gayer gives a remarkably cogent and concise history of the longstanding quarrel over the nature of grace that would pit the Jansenists against the Molinists in the context of a larger breaking apart of post-Tridentine Catholicism. The question is ultimately anthropological. Gres-Gayer very helpfully draws our attention to the parallel, noted by the Jansenists themselves, between the Christological disputes in the early Church (Antiochian Christology’s stress on the human link to divinity in the Incarnation versus Alexandrine Christology’s preoccupation with divine transcendence) and the longstanding quarrel over the role of human free will in the operation of divine grace. In both instances, we find entirely conflicting views not only of the relationship between the human and the divine but also about the very nature of humanity. In attempting to explain the fracture of post-Tridentine Catholicism, of which the affaire Arnauld is but one episode greatly clarified by Beaubrun’s Mémoires, Gres-Gayer reminds us of the way in which the entire Augustinian tradition had tended to displace theology from the magisterium and make it an independent science. However, the Council of Trent, while reaffirming its allegiance to Augustine, actually distanced itself from that tradition (without ever saying so explicitly) by redefining the role of theologians, whose liberty to define doctrine would henceforth be limited by the power of the magisterium. In the Council of Trent’s move to affirm and legitimize the posterior tradition of papal intervention in matters of doctrine, Gres-Gayer sees nothing short of the concept—unspoken but nonetheless fully present—of papal infallibility. Paradoxically, the fear of weakening this doctrine by creating a backlash explains the extreme prudence of intervention by Rome in the whole matter. Indeed, a practical alliance between the hierarchy and the Gallican monarchy would be necessary in order to impose a formulary of submission upon Port-Royal and its allies. Ironically, within the Faculty of the Sorbonne itself, the fact that Arnauld’s censure was so ardently desired by the monarchy would mean that many traditional Gallican partisans would find themselves allied with the “Roman” party in voting for his censure. Gres-Gayer’s edition of Beaubrun’s Mémoires, edited with meticulous care (all references in the manuscript have been verified and clarified), will obvi- BOOK REVIEWS 691 ously open up a whole new sphere of research on Pascal’s Provincial Letters. But perhaps more importantly, they now represent the only complete description of the inner workings of the Faculty of Theology of Paris available to historians. The volume does much to document and complete Gres-Gayer’s other studies on the importance of the influence—an influence often complicated by manipulations and pressures from the outside—of the Sorbonne and its theological faculty during the Grand Siècle. DAVID WETSEL Arizona State University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 691 Au service de l’Eglise de France: Les eudistes, 1680–1791. By Guillaume de Bertier de Sauvigny. [Kronos,Vol. 30.] (Paris: Editions S. P. M. 1999. Pp. 629. 43 Euros.) Founded by St. John Eudes (1601–1680), the Congregation of Jesus and Mary (Eudists) played a significant role in the Catholic Reformation in France, especially in Normandy. A congregation of diocesan priests devoted principally to seminary teaching and to rural missions, the Eudists worked hard to improve the intellectual and moral level of both clergy and laity. The present volume examines how the Eudists fared from the death of their founder to their dissolution during the French Revolution. The author, himself a member of the Congregation of Jesus and Mary, gives ample attention to difficulties encountered by the early generation of Eudists, and how challenges were or were not overcome. The hybrid status of diocesan priests, who yet at the same time formed a congregation, with its own superiors, created a variety of permanent tensions and opportunities. The superior elected in 1680, Jean-Jacques Blouet de Camilly, succeeded in helping the Eudists to survive the potential crisis of the death of their founder, and even to prosper. Working mainly in Norman dioceses such as Bayeux, Rouen, and Lisieux, though also at Rennes and a few other places outside Normandy, Eudists were highly valued by some bishops,marginalized by others. Held in special contempt in Jansenist circles, which considered this inopportune congregation a rustic, relatively ignorant equivalent of the Jesuits, the Eudists paid a heavy price for their adamant support of Unigenitus and other anti-Jansenist measures advanced by church or state. Newcomers in already crowded clerical and religious milieux, Eudists competed, for attention and for recruitment to their own numbers, with a broad array of orders and congregations. Never large in numbers, Eudists were also as subject to disease and early death as everyone else. In 1719, a dysentery epidemic thinned the ranks of the seminary staff— the students having been sent away at the first sign of contagion—at Rennes. In 1775,at the seminary in Caen,the students were not so fortunate,as twenty-two of them died of food poisoning. At the Revolution’s suppression of religious congregations, and subsequent dechristianization campaign, some Eudists were imprisoned or executed; others were able to continue clandestine work in 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 692 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS France; some fled abroad to England and elsewhere; and some supported the new regime. Bertier de Sauvigny suggests that the running of seminaries, on the one hand, and the preaching of missions, on the other, far from being two unrelated activities, worked very well together. During those times of the year when there were no seminarians to instruct, professors went out to conduct missions. The field experience gained by the seminary staff served to keep formation of the next generation of clergy close to pastoral realities, not merely textbook certainties or ideals. Did that, too, offend the rigorist sensibilities of Jansenist sympathizers? This book is a well-researched and very readable institutional history. The author organizes his abundant material almost exclusively along chronological and geographical lines; such an approach is both a strength and a weakness. Though offering the reader a clear picture of important names, dates, and places, the book could be improved by further attention to a broader range of issues concerning the place of the Eudists in Old Regime France. More emphasis on social and cultural history would be welcome. It would also be interesting to know more about what was actually taught in the seminaries, and what was actually preached in missions. Still, this volume remains a major accomplishment, one for which scholars of early modern France will be grateful. THOMAS WORCESTER, S.J. College of the Holy Cross 692 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Late Modern European Controversial Concordats: The Vatican’s Relations with Napoleon, Mussolini, and Hitler. Edited by Frank J. Coppa. (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press. 1999. Pp. viii, 248. $44.95 clothbound; $24.95 paperback.) This study of the concordats concluded between the Holy See and the major dictators of the modern age is an expansion of papers first presented as a panel at a scholarly conference. As such, it is organized like a conference panel, with an introduction by John K. Zeender, substantive essays on France by William Roberts, on Italy by Frank Coppa, and on Germany by Joseph A. Biesinger, and a concluding commentary by Stewart A. Stehlin. An appendix contains the complete texts of the concordats with Napoleon, Mussolini, and Hitler. For over 800 years prior to the 1960’s, the Papacy had negotiated concordats with secular states, trading the favor of the Pope for guarantees of the position of the Church and its institutional status within those states. In the early nineteenth century, concordats, on the model of that of 1801 with Napoleon, served to consolidate alliances of throne and altar. They were less used in the latter part of the century as the Vatican was beset by attacks from liberal anticlericals and from the newly created national entities of Germany and Italy. The BOOK REVIEWS 693 use of concordats was revived by Pius XI as a means of dealing with a world of secular nationalism in the 1920’s.Yet the concordats with Italy (1929) and Germany (1933) raised questions about the morality of pacts with dictators and, with Vatican Council II’s intended decentralization of power within the Church, no new concordats have been concluded by the Vatican since the 1950’s. William Roberts contends that Napoleon sought agreement with the Church in order to secure popular support for his regime as well as to control what was potentially a dangerous oppositional institution. In the short term, the French concordat of 1801 worked to Napoleon’s advantage.Yet, Roberts argues that in the longer term, the concordat was of considerable benefit to the Church, since it brought the French Church under greater papal control than heretofore and it laid the foundation for the nineteenth-century revival of French Catholicism. Within France, the concordat gave great power to the bishops, with the result that the lower clergy became fervently ultramontane, seeing the Pope as their protector against an arbitrary episcopate. Roberts attributes French support for the 1870 doctrine of papal infallibility to this internal tension of the Church. In the same way, Frank Coppa indicates that the Italian concordat of 1929 provided short-term benefits to Mussolini’s fascist regime, but, through its protection of Italian Catholic Action, the concordat assisted in the preparation of the post-fascist generation of Italian political leadership. The result was longterm Church advantage through Catholic hegemony in Italian politics from 1945 to 1990. In Germany, by contrast, the 1933 concordat worked more to the advantage of the state than of the Church, according to Joseph Biesinger. Hitler wanted the concordat to secure popular support and, in particular, to ensure that the Church did not become an anti-Nazi institution. In this, he succeeded very well since, in spite of Nazi violations of the terms of the concordat from the very beginning, Church leaders were divided over the extent to which they should risk their freedom to worship by criticizing the government. This division resulted in episcopal inactivity in protesting the treatment of the Church and the persecution of the Jews. By leaving the German bishops to their own devices, Pope Pius XII failed to encourage greater activism on their part. The result was that, for many years after the war, the German bishops were reluctant to address the issue of German responsibility for the Nazis. The essays in this book will be of particular interest to students and the general reading public, since they are based largely on secondary literature. The essays by Coppa and Biesinger, in particular, contain good discussions of the historiography surrounding the conclusion and impact of the Italian and German concordats. The book will be an invaluable aid for teaching, since the essays are well presented, can be linked with the included texts of the concordats, and provide a basis for comparative study and discussion. The bibliography is extensive and there is an especially valuable annotated bibliography for the section on the German concordat. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 694 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS A minor problem is a certain inconsistency of approach in the book. The essay on the French concordat continues a history of Church-State relations in France from 1801 to the separation of Church and State and the abrogation of the concordat in 1905,whereas the essay on the Italian concordat ends in 1939, in spite of the fact that the Italian concordat has remained as an issue in Italian politics up to the present time. It is unfortunate that the essays on Italy and Germany do not include as extensive a discussion of the Church after the dictatorships as is provided by Roberts for France. Similarly,it would have been valuable to have had a full annotated bibliography for France and Italy, just as Biesinger has provided one for Germany. These are, however, minor issues which do not mar the valuable contribution of this book for those interested in a comparative study of Church-State relations in the modern period. PETER C. KENT University of New Brunswick 694 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS St Catherine’s Parish Dublin, 1840–1900: Portrait of a Church of Ireland Community. By John Crawford. Roscommon before the Famine: The Parishes of Kiltoom and Cam, 1749– 1845. By William Gacquin. Window on a Catholic Parish: St Mary’s, Granard, Co. Longford, 1933–68. By Francis Kelly. [Maynooth Studies in Local History, Numbers 6, 7, and 8.] (Dublin: Irish Academic Press. Distributed in the United States by ISBS, Portland, Oregon. 1996. Pp. 57, 64, 63. $9.95 each, paperback.) These slender volumes were originally master’s theses completed at Maynooth under the direction of Raymond Gillespie. Each work is very narrowly focused, and none of the authors makes much of an effort to show how their studies support—or challenge—the leading scholarly work in the field. Nonetheless, there is much to commend in these books. Each author draws on previously untapped sources—parish records, vestry minutes, deeds, and school registers. Each study is well written and finely illustrated, especially Crawford’s, which has several photographs and etchings of St. Catherine’s church and the clergymen who served it. What is most significant about these works is that each presents material that will force Irish historians to reconsider some long-held assumptions. For example, while Anglicanism is generally thought to have been declining in southern Ireland in the late nineteenth century, Crawford shows that St. Catherine’s was a relatively vibrant parish; he attributes much of its strength to the zeal of two evangelical ministers who were stationed there in the 1880’s and ’90’s. Likewise, while many recent scholars have argued that there was considerable unrest and secret society activity in rural Ireland, Gacquin’s parishes in Roscommon were calm on the eve of the Famine. BOOK REVIEWS 695 Kelly’s findings were the most startling. He studied Canon Denis O’Kane’s thirty-five-year tenure as pastor of St. Mary’s Church in Granard in County Longford. O’Kane, a highly-educated, personable man, was at St. Mary’s from 1933 to 1968, years in which the Catholic Church is widely thought to have been the dominant force in all facets of Irish life. Kelly claims, however, that O’Kane and his curates met considerable resistance from many of the faithful in Granard. He estimates that only 55% of the parishioners attended Mass every Sunday in the 1930’s. In an effort to evangelize the people, O’Kane arranged for a number of parish missions, but they had very mixed results. In 1938, Father Columbus, a Capuchin friar, led a week-long mission at the parish. As he was leaving, he informed O’Kane that the parishioners were “a bad lot indeed . . . [with] very bad customs and . . . a very pagan and material outlook” (p. 37). Of course, there were also many parishioners who attended daily Mass and were active in the Legion of Mary and the Pioneer Total Abstinence Association,but the devout were definitely outnumbered by the lukewarm and the fallen away. Each of these studies, but especially Kelly’s, makes new, well-substantiated claims that all students of modern Irish history need to take seriously. JOHN F. QUINN Salve Regina University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 695 Newman’s Challenge. By Stanley L. Jaki. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company. 2000. Pp. viii, 323. $20.00 paperback.) This is a collection of separate essays, largely written within the past decade, designed to refute the growing misperception that John Henry Cardinal Newman (1801–90) was a liberal, the “father” of Vatican Council II. Stanley L. Jaki, the much-published Distinguished University Professor at Seton Hall University, argues persuasively, in a dazzling display of scholarship, that Newman was above all, and at all times, a supernaturalist. While not a mystic, Newman left Anglicanism in pursuit of the supernatural. Once in the Church, according to Jaki, he fully embraced the Church’s dogmas as bulwarks against the rational and secular assumptions about reality he had fled, and he reveled in the otherworldliness offered to him. “Newman would say that heaven, angels and devils form one indivisible whole on the landscape of the supernatural.” The author, reflecting Newman’s post-1845 views, has harsh things to say about the Church of England, and often quotes Newman’s Anglican Difficulties. He is certainly correct in his assessment of the extremely minimal impact the Oxford Movement had on that Protestant body and of the sad state of this once proud State Church. The Second Vatican Council receives even harsher treatment, being described as having “unintentionally opened the gates to vagueness, ambiguity, and indecision (all, of course, in the disguise of ‘pastoral’ solutions) that do not cease to take a heavy toll on Catholic life—priestly, religious, and lay.” Paul VI 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 696 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS “knew whereof he spoke when, shortly after Vatican II, he bitterly deplored those who tried to protestantize the Church from within.” Newman, Jaki asserts, would have been appalled to see the watering down of the faith that has occurred in recent decades, and shocked that his name would be associated with such activity. The cardinal, in Jaki’s judgment, would have been a champion of Humanae Vitae and the enemy of the glorification of private conscience that almost always accompanies resistance to this papal decree. The best chapters are on original sin, miracles, angels, Anglo-Catholics, and the Papacy. Jaki knows the Newman manuscripts as well as the printed works, and uses both effectively. There is much repetition, however, and the extended analysis of Newman’s very difficult Grammar of Assent is at times tedious. On the whole, this should be required reading of all who delight in reading, quoting, and often misquoting the great cardinal. Those Anglo-Catholics who have not yet gone to Rome (there are still a few) will also profit. THOMAS C. REEVES University of Wisconsin-Parkside 696 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS From Without the Flaminian Gate: 150 Years of Roman Catholicism in England and Wales 1850–2000. Edited by V. Alan McClelland and Michael Hodgetts. (London: Darton, Longman and Todd Ltd. 1999. Pp. xvii, 406. £24.95.) On September 29, 1850, Pope Pius IX restored the Roman Catholic hierarchy in England and Wales. Soon afterwards, the new Archbishop of Westminster, Nicholas Wiseman, issued a pastoral letter from Rome, “From Without the Flaminian Gate,” which announced the pope’s plans to the country’s Roman Catholics. The Roman authorities had worked hard to soften the protests which would greet this papal action, but the exuberant rhetoric in Wiseman’s message neutralized these plans. Protests in the press, hostile comments from Anglican bishops, an act of parliament, the burning of Wiseman and the other bishops in effigy, and the threat of hostile mobs demonstrated that anti-Catholicism flourished in Victorian England. But the climate has changed during this century. The tributes following the death of Cardinal Basil Hume in June, 1999, just short of the 150th anniversary of the restoration of the hierarchy and the new millennium, revealed that Roman Catholicism had become an important and respected part of the country. From Without the Flaminian Gate is a collection of articles which discusses aspects of the development of Roman Catholicism from 1850 to the present. These articles, which celebrate the 150th anniversary of the establishment of the Catholic hierarchy in England and Wales, provide a scholarly and entertaining insight into the life of English Catholicism since 1850. This is not the first time that a volume of essays commemorated the achievements of Roman Catholicism following the restoration. In 1950, Bishop George Beck edited The English Catholics, 1850–1950,which studied the remarkable resurgence of Ca- BOOK REVIEWS 697 tholicism during that century and looked toward the future with confidence. While avoiding nostalgia for the past or contentment with the recent accomplishments of Catholicism, From Without the Flaminian Gate might not possess the same self-assurance as Beck’s book, but it “poses a set of questions which will present themselves with considerable urgency in the new millennium” (p. xiv). V. Alan McClelland and Michael Hodgetts have brought together a number of outstanding scholars who have succeeded in giving the reader a penetrating insight into the growth of the Catholic community since 1850. Three articles by McClelland, Sheridan Gilley, and Edward Hulmes narrate the history of Roman Catholicism since the restoration. The first two trace the development of Catholicism in England from the episcopate of Wiseman to the death of Cardinal Hinsley in 1943. Both contain insightful personality sketches of the Archbishops of Westminster and analyze other factors, such as education, Irish immigration, Ultramontanism, Anglican Orders, English politics, and Modernism, which influenced the life of Catholicism. Scholarship and critical analysis make these two articles worthwhile. Hulmes’s contribution, however, is more of a personal response to the issues of evangelization, education, and ecumenism from 1943 to the present. The other authors explore additional aspects of English Roman Catholicism. Articles dealing with seminaries and priestly formation, Catholicism and philosophy, religious life for men and women, the laity, family and marriage, Catholic education, politics, literature, and popular culture describe how Roman Catholicism has adapted to the demands of modern life while trying to preserve what is essential in its traditions and teachings. Bishop Daniel Mullins also reminds the readers of the rich tradition and history of the Welsh Roman Catholics. These articles address major themes in the recent development within Catholicism, and two deserve special attention. Jeffrey von Arx effectively argues that Roman Catholics did contribute to the political life of the country, although not following the continental approach of Catholic Action. And Michael Walsh’s well-written essay investigates the relationship of Roman Catholicism to the culture and society of the country. This book is a valuable addition to the literature on the history of Roman Catholicism in England. It recognizes the slow but steady growth of the Catholic Church following the restoration of the hierarchy and considers the more recent developments in the life of English Catholicism, especially the influence of Vatican Council II. Some readers might take exception with the omission of certain individuals or aspects in this discussion of Catholicism, but this work was not meant to be a comprehensive study of the last 150 years of Roman Catholicism. Anyone interested in the history of Roman Catholicism in England and Wales will appreciate this fine collection of articles. RENE KOLLAR Saint Vincent Archabbey Latrobe, Pennsylvania 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 698 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Sanctity and Secularity during the Modernist Period. Edited by Lawrence Barmann and Charles J. T. Talar. [Subsidia hagiographica, 79.] (Brussels: Société des Bollandistes. 1999. Pp. xi, 187. 35 Euros.) Catastrophe nipped at the heels of the Roman Catholic Church as it stepped into the twentieth century. For an institution so long and closely connected to emperors and kings, the revolutionary birth of representational government sent shock waves from the many capitals of Europe to the Vatican. There the pope, former “owner” of central Italy, was now a political “prisoner.” A similar revolution in the academic arena,the birth of historical consciousness,also sent tremors and threats of intellectual displacement to representatives of the Catholic faith. Historical consciousness was a new kind of filter for Catholic faith, one that might sift legendary and mythological elements out from traditional Catholic teachings. But was that something that Roman Catholics at the turn of the century were themselves ready and willing to do? This book contains historical essays that analyze six representatives of Roman Catholicism in the “modernist period” of church history (1890–1914) and provides a carefully nuanced and variegated answer to that question. The essays examine six individuals who struggled with the distinction between the historical and the legendary. Four of the examples (Henri Bremond [1865–1933], Hippolyte Delehaye [1859–1941], Friedrich von Hügel [1852– 1925], and Paul Sabatier [1858–1928]) stand in the middle. They blend together elements of the new historical criticism with degrees of a more traditional credulity. They show this blend in their respective works: discussing saintly ideals; reflecting on rules for hagiographical methodology; exploring the meaning of mysticism in a viable spirituality; and writing a life of St. Francis of Assisi. Bordering these blended positions are two extremes: Joris-Karl Huysmans (1848–1907) and Albert Houtin (1867–1926). Houtin wants to be the pure critic. C. J. T. Talar shows the strongly positivist way that he viewed history, with an almost “binary mentality that divided history into established fact and legend.” In Talar’s article we see especially Houtin’s investigation of the legend that the church in France was of apostolic origin. Huysmans, at the other extreme, is a novelist who proudly retained the legendary in his examination of Saint Lydwine. Here Talar tends to agree with George Tyrrell that Huysmans’ work seemed almost a reaction against historical criticism and that it constituted a greater threat to the faith of educated individuals than such criticism itself. Despite their differences, all these men are connected to each other not only by the revolutionary circumstances in which they wrote, but also by their shared sense of the special value of something termed “sanctity” that they chose to investigate. Historical criticism exposed the difference between two kinds of sanctity: sanctity as an actual existential reality and sanctity as an artificial, institutional adornment. Barmann’s introduction is a gem in distilling the tensions surrounding all six scholars in the distinction between true sanctity and the false overlays in the tradition. BOOK REVIEWS 699 The four authors of the articles in the book are: (1) B. Joassart (Société des Bollandistes, Brussels) regarding Delehaye; (2) C. J. T. Talar (St. Mary’s Seminary, Baltimore) regarding Albert Houtin, Paul Sabatier, and J.-K. Huysmans; (3) É. Goichot (Université Marc Bloch, Strasbourg) regarding Henri Bremond; and (4) Lawrence Barmann (St. Louis University, St. Louis) regarding von Hügel. Barmann and Talar are also editors of the book. The articles by Joassart and Goichot are in French, the rest in English. Each of the articles is a landmark work in exploring the details and context of its particular subject, with no discernible errors and recurring instances of superb scholarship and insight. RONALD BURKE University of Nebraska at Omaha 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 699 Christian Social Ethics in Ukraine: The Legacy of Andrei Sheptytsky. By Andrii Krawchuk. (Ottawa: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies Press, Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky Institute of Eastern Christian Studies, and The Basilian Press. 1997. Pp. xxiv, 404. $49.95.) Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky (1865–1944), a scion of high Polonized nobility, was for almost half a century the metropolitan to Ukrainians, most of whom were poor peasants. Had he remained a Catholic of the Roman rite instead of reverting to the Eastern Catholicism of his distant ancestors, his life would have lacked the sharp poignancy that creates the major interest in his life and work. As a committed pastor of a flock facing discrimination, first within the Habsburg Monarchy, then in the Polish Republic, and ending in the unprecedented tribulations of Soviet and Nazi occupations, Sheptytsky did not have the luxury of simply expounding his views on Christian ethics. The times of his life made the simplest injunction—“Thou shalt not kill,” the title of one of his major pastoral letters—a politically charged position. Placed within the crucible of ideological and geographical struggles, arrested by the Tsarist government, exiled by the Soviets, detained by the inter-War Polish regime, groundlessly accused of collaboration with Nazi Germany, Sheptytsky struggled most valiantly for the souls of youths caught in the vise of economic depression and political repression. He deplored the growth of terrorist nationalism, seeing in it the obverse side of godless communism and a negation of all he and his Church stood for. The affirmation of life runs through Sheptytsky’s whole life, and Krawchuk aptly titled the last chapter of this book “The Sanctity of Life: Resistance to Nazi Rule,” that includes a brief discussion of the aid Sheptytsky was able to proffer Jews. The main value of Krawchuk’s study is that he eschews the potential of high drama in Sheptytsky’s life to focus on his interpretation of Christian ethics. Krawchuk’s research is solid, his expositions carefully presented. The close focus on the topic deprives the reader of a sense of the approachable Sheptytsky, but it provides us with a wealth of information not available previously. The 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 700 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS book is comprehensive and balanced to the point of at times being dry. Nevertheless, given the dearth of scholarly material on Sheptytsky, this is a welcome fault. While stressing Sheptytsky’s open opposition to Nazi policies, Krawchuk provides a useful appendix on the thorny matter of Sheptytsky’s alleged letter of qualified support of the Galician Division, the German-founded military unit that fought briefly on the Eastern front. And it should be merely an appendix to a life and activity so rich in other respects. Krawchuk, moreover, prepared a very useful bibliography that will make this book suitable for courses of culture, history, and the history of religion. In Krawchuk’s presentation, Sheptytsky treated the Pauline model of ChurchState relations not as an absolute principle, “but as a rule of thumb that was overridden by the superior authority of divine law as soon as there was conflict between the two” (p. 256). This forced Sheptytsky to repeatedly abandon his preferred position of accommodation with the political authorities and to openly challenge those who disregarded divine commandments. Krawchuk provides a carefully documented analysis of Sheptytsky’s politics, based on lifeaffirming Christian love, as he discusses the Metropolitan’s writings. Convinced that the social nature of humans proves the divine origin of political authority that resides in all people, Sheptytsky repeatedly argued that the people are morally free to choose the type of government they wish and that states must exercise toleration of all faiths. Nevertheless,very much in the spirit of what became in the 1930’s Catholic Action,Sheptytsky maintained it was the task of the Church to actively foster a society that can promote the salvation of its members. Sheptytsky’s defense of private property, based upon principles of justice, also had a practical dimension—ownership underlay an effective economic system that made possible at least a mildly equitable distribution of wealth. He fostered, for the most part successfully, a sense of solidarity among his priests, popularizing synodal meetings and public activism. He encouraged political participation of the laity as a means of bettering the condition of the people. Sheptytsky’s writings amply develop his views, demonstrating his erudition and scholarly interests. One hopes, along with Krawchuk, this is just the beginning of continued studies on this major figure in the history of European Catholicism in the modern times. MARTHA BOHACHEVSKY-CHOMIAK The National Endowment for the Humanities 700 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS A History of Northern Ireland, 1920–1996. By Thomas Hennessey. (New York: St. Martin’s Press. 1997. Pp. xv, 347. $45.00.) Reading Thomas Hennessey’s account of Northern Ireland’s tortured history leads one to conclude that the “Troubles” began not in 1969, as is commonly supposed, but in 1920, when the state was brought into being. A Research Fel- BOOK REVIEWS 701 low at Queen’s University in Belfast, Hennessey provides a painstakingly thorough and dispassionate chronicle of the successive crises that have plagued Northern Ireland. Hennessey begins his story in 1912 with the British Parliament poised to approve Home Rule for Ireland and Protestant militants organizing a huge army to block its implementation in Ulster. Eight years later, the six most solidly Protestant counties of Ulster were split off from the rest of Ireland by the English prime minister, David Lloyd-George. For the first two years of its existence, Northern Ireland was under siege from Irish Republican Army (IRA) guerrillas who were determined to bring down the new state. At the end of the decade, the Depression struck and Northern Ireland’s ship building and linen industries were devastated. Hennessey notes that by the late 1930’s, unemployment was 30% overall and higher still among Catholics. World War II brought an end to the Depression but left Ulster subject to raids by Nazi bombers. Worse yet,Ulster Unionists were deathly afraid that Winston Churchill would promise to reunify Ireland in an effort to persuade Eamon DeValera to join the Allied war effort. After World War II, Northern Ireland’s economy remained sluggish, and sectarian violence continued without a respite. In 1963 things at last seemed to be changing for the better: the new Unionist prime minister, Captain Terence O’Neill, wanted to reach out to Catholics and was determined to eliminate at least some of the discriminatory practices that they had endured for years. The reform attempts, however, triggered a major backlash from Protestant militants such as the Reverend Ian Paisley and led to O’Neill’s resignation in 1969. The last thirty years are no doubt the most familiar part of the saga, and here Hennessey provides such detail that virtually all readers will benefit from these chapters. He covers all the major players: Unionist leaders of all stripes; the Catholic moderates who formed the Social Democratic and Labour Party in 1970; the IRA and its political wing, Sinn Fein; the Ulster Defence Association (UDA), the main Protestant paramilitary group. And he describes the many rounds of talks and forums that the politicians have taken part in as well as the bombing campaigns of the IRA and UDA. He takes the events right up till 1996 but then abruptly ends his account without making any effort to sum up all the issues that he had so carefully presented. A brief concluding chapter would have been very helpful. Some readers may also be frustrated by Hennessey’s writing. He includes dozens of long quotations from politicians and from political documents. This makes for very dry reading at times. These stylistic difficulties notwithstanding, the substance of the work is such that readers interested in the history of Northern Ireland will find it well worth their time. JOHN F. QUINN Salve Regina University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 702 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Política, cultura y sociedad en la España de Franco, 1939–1975. Tomo I: La configuración del Estado espanol, nacional y católico (1939–1947). By Gonzalo Redondo. (Pamplona: Ediciones Universidad de Navarra. 1999. Pp. 1143.) Despite the view cultivated by popular but shallow historians, the Spanish Church and the Franco regime did not have the symbiotic relationship that they were reputed to have. Nationalcatholicism was more of a goal than a reality. This massive work, by the author of one of the most detailed histories of the Spanish Church in its relations with the Second Republic and the Civil War, details the conflicts and collaborations between the two institutions. It is the first of a projected series on the entire Franco regime; this volume covers the years from the end of the Civil War in 1939 to the promulgation of the Law of Succession in 1947, which declared Spain a monarchy and provided for the naming of a monarch as a successor to Franco. Although the Church had been weakened by the anticlerical fury of the first months of the Civil War,particularly in the loss of the thousands of clerics killed, it was still a formidable institution, and the Franco regime needed its support to project its image of Spain as a Catholic state and particularly as a bulwark for the traditionalism that was to be its hallmark. Similarly the Church needed the state’s support to rebuild the ruined churches and re-establish the Catholic cultural hegemony that it had before 1931. Franco wanted the privileges of the old Concordat of 1851, especially the right of presentation for clerical appointments. Pius XII was concerned about Nazi influence in Spain and was apparently fearful of another concordat with a dictator, having been burned by Pius XI’s concordats with Mussolini and Hitler. A compromise was reached in 1941. Franco got some control over episcopal appointments, and the Church got back control of education and removal of the anticlerical legislation of the 1930’s. But Spain’s three cardinals were not happy with the Franco regime. The Primate, Cardinal Isidro Gomá, was afraid that the regime would fall into the hands of Falangists who supported pagan Nazi policies, especially in 1939, when German influence was great in Spain. He died in 1940, warning against the statism of the regime. Cardinal Pedro Segura so outraged Franco with his criticism of the regime that the Caudillo tried to get Pius XII to remove the controversial prelate. And Cardinal Francesc Vidal of Tarragona, non-signer of the Bishops’ pastoral letter of 1937 calling for support of Franco’s cause, remained in Italian exile, repeatedly but unsuccessfully petitioning Franco and the Pope to return to his diocese. The Caudillo would not budge, while Pius hoped to solve the problem diplomatically; Vidal died before he could return. But most bishops were pleased to have the support of a regime that replaced the anticlerical Republic. A major point of tension, however, was the conflict between Franco and the Pretender, Don Juan, son of Alfonso XIII, over the question of restoration of the monarchy. Redondo details the controversy, showing how clerics and Catholic politicians lined up on both sides. Angel Herrera Oria, the grey eminence BOOK REVIEWS 703 behind the Catholic political parties before the Civil War, and later CardinalArchbishop of Malaga, made an appearance as a newly ordained priest and worked behind the scenes to impress both factions with the need for social reform. Gil Robles in Portuguese exile called for the return of the monarch as a guarantee of greater citizen participation in the affairs of state and lobbied for clerical support. The author describes all of the events of these early years, showing how they had an impact upon the Church: the re-establishment of Catholic higher education, the restoration of Catholic Action, and in international affairs, the role of Spain in helping victims of the Holocaust, and relations with Vichy France, and both Fascist and Republican Italy. He describes the growing movement for social justice that laid the groundwork for the protests of the 1960’s. The author’s sympathetic view of Franco, excusing him, for example, of much of the repression in the early 1940’s, and the author’s obvious Opus Dei membership and leanings, color his interpretations, but this work is the most valuable study of church-state relations during the Franco period that has been published. It is a powerful historiographical tool that no future historian of the Franco regime can afford to ignore. JOSÉ M. SÁNCHEZ Saint Louis University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 703 Pope Pius XII: Architect for Peace. By Margherita Marchione. (Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press. 2000. Pp. ix, 345. $22.95 paperback.) The latest round of the controversy over Pius XII, the Nazis, and the Jews is, frankly, beginning to pall. After Cornwell’s Hitler’s Pope, and then Blet’s Pius XII and the Second World War, now we have Sister Marchione’s offering, but these books are not getting us anywhere. The real problem is that the debate has the wrong focus: it should be about Catholic, not to say Christian, antiSemitism and its relationship to the Holocaust, not Pius XII. The Pope is being used as a scapegoat. It is no more helpful to our understanding of the Christian contribution to the Holocaust to say that Papa Pacelli was a demon than it is to present him as a saint. While Cornwell has exaggerated Pacelli’s responsibility for the triumph of Nazism (hence the absurd and misleading title) and underestimated his role and that of the Vatican in saving victims of Nazism, his detractors, including Fathers Blet and Gumpel and Sister Marchione are ignoring very serious issues. Sister Marchione does, however, raise some important issues, one being the sharp distinction she makes between Christian “anti-Judaism” and racial antiSemitism. But it is implausible to argue that there was no link between the two: the one was the origin of the other,even if,in the mid-nineteenth century,it was 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 704 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS overlaid with a coating of Social Darwinism. The French Assumptionist newspaper La Croix and the Jesuit fortnightly La Civiltà Cattolica demonstrate this clearly. In early 1920, when the Vatican was seriously concerned about the Balfour Declaration’s commitment to a Jewish homeland in Palestine, the Jesuit journal wrote: “The Jews are seeking to accumulate their money by taking it from Christians, regarding it as their legitimate right as chosen people to take possession of the spoils of Egypt.” And I could cite even worse examples. An issue closely linked to the foregoing is the behavior of bishops, clergy, and laity during the Holocaust, which is again obscured by the obsession with Pius XII. While many bishops, clergy, and laity were undoubtedly heroic in their response, by hiding Jews and similarly persecuted groups, others were less than active. The situation varied from place to place, the most humanitarian response coming from such countries as Holland,Hungary,and,above all,Italy,but was mixed to say the least in occupied Poland, Vichy France, and Germany. In Slovakia, as Monsignor Domenico Tardini, Vatican Under Secretary of State, pointed out, it was a downright Christian scandal that a country whose president was a priest (the infamous Monsignor Tiso) was happily deporting Jews to Auschwitz. And the general passivity of bishops and priests confronted by the massacres of Serbs in “Greater Croatia,” not to mention the role of Franciscan priests in the concentration camps, stands as one of the most shameful episodes in the history of Christianity. Sadly, I cannot recommend Sister Marchione’s book for enlightenment on these vexed issues. It would be much better, if you read Italian, to get a hold of a copy of Giovanni Miccoli’s book, I Dilemmi e Silenzi di Pio XII: Vaticano, Seconda Guerra mondiale e Shoah (Rizzoli). And if you do not, wait until it is published in English because it is a carefully considered, scholarly book of great clarity and understanding. JOHN F. POLLARD Anglia Polytechnic University, England 704 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS American Faith and Family: Dutch Immigration and Settlement in the United States, 1820–1920. By Robert P. Swierenga. [Ellis Island Series.] (New York: Holmes & Meier Publishers, Inc. 2000. Pp. xxi, 362. $45.00.) Faith and Family is Swierenga’s most comprehensive work on Dutch immigration and settlement in the United States in the nineteenth and early twentieth century. As the title suggests, religion and family values and their impacts on the immigrant experience, behavior, and the residential community are the recurring themes. Migration traditions through church and family contribute to the development of transplanted communities which, as Swierenga sees it, dot BOOK REVIEWS 705 the American landscape in both urban and rural areas. Mobility, both in a geographic and economic sense, is directed and takes place through these community networks, and the church is the pivotal institution in the process. Many of the materials and case studies covered have been published elsewhere, but Swierenga has done a superb job at synthesizing and integrating the various themes in four parts in the book. Part I: “Immigration Patterns” (in four chapters) includes a review of conditions in the Old Country that contributed to emigration and a discussion and analysis of different immigration streams to the United States. Part II:“Religion” (in four chapters) addresses the question of the relationship between religion and immigration behavior, including Jewish immigration and religious life. In Part III:“Work and Politics” (in two chapters), migration and occupational change and voting behavior is covered. Part IV: “Statistics and Sources” (in two chapters) discusses international immigration statistics and other source materials. At the end we find a detailed bibliographic essay, including a section on Catholic records. The writing style is clear and direct, and source referencing and indexing is superb. Swierenga’s own immigrant and religious roots lay in the Midwestern Secessionist Christian Reformed tradition, which is evident from the choice of themes and locales. Most of the examples and case studies presented (Chicago’s Westside, Holland and Grand Rapids, Michigan, and Pella, Iowa), derive from places and events he is most familiar with. Thus we learn less about the more mainstream Protestant Dutch Reformed settlers and their immigrant experience and behavior than about the particular events surrounding their more orthodox brethren. Also, we learn less about the Dutch Catholic immigration. Dutch Catholic immigrants formed 18 percent of the Dutch immigration from 1830 to 1880 compared to 20 percent Seceder Christian Reformed and almost 60 percent Dutch Reformed. And although Swierenga points out the difference in experience and behavior and makes the reader aware of the fact that Dutch Catholic immigrants were more likely to find their destination in urban centers rather than on the frontier, he does not pursue their course to answer the questions of why that is or what implications that has. In other words, a distinct unevenness in coverage is evident, which derives from Swierenga’s interest in understanding cultural persistence and ethnic identity rather than Americanization and assimilation. Both in Catholic immigration and Dutch immigration studies there remain significant questions to be answered. Nonetheless, Swierenga’s contribution to Dutch immigration history is significant,and Faith and Family deserves a place alongside Jacob van Hinte and Henry Lucas’ seminal works on Dutch immigration to the United States. Swierenga’s life work, which includes detailed computer compilations of manuscript U.S. census records of immigrant heads of households, official Dutch emigration records, and entries in the U.S. ship passenger lists, offers a substantial basis for undertaking a comprehensive comparative analysis of the immigration experience of all Dutch immigrant groups. Along with the extensive bibliographic and archival data sources listed in the 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 706 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS History of the Diocese of Toledo. By Lawrence A. Mossing. Volume I: General History prior to and after Its Establishment in 1910. (1983. Pp. xxii, 244.) Volume II: Northern Ohio, West Section: Missionary and Parish History. (1984. Pp. x, 222.) Volume III: Northern Ohio, West Central Section, Toledo and Lucas County. (1985. Pp. xii, 242.) Volume IV: Northern Ohio, West Central and Central Sections. (1986. Pp. xv, 328.) Volume V: Giant in the Diocese of Toledo: A History of Most Reverend Joseph Schrembs, D.D., First Bishop of Toledo. (1987. Pp. xii, 153.) Volume VI: Young Shepherd in the Diocese of Toledo: A History of Most Reverend Samuel A. Stritch, D.D., Second Bishop of Toledo. (1988. Pp. xii, 160.) Volume VII: The Bishop Alter Years in the Diocese of Toledo: A History of Most Reverend Karl J. Alter, D.D., Third Bishop of Toledo. (1989. Pp. xii, 157.) Volume VIII: The Golden Era in the Diocese of Toledo: A History of the Most Reverend George J. Rehring, S.T.D., Fourth Bishop of Toledo. (1991. Pp. xiv, 210.) Volume IX: The Church in Transition in the Diocese of Toledo: A History of the Most Reverend John A. Donovan, D.D., Fifth Bishop of Toledo. (1994. Pp. xiv, 120. All volumes published by the Diocese of Toledo, 1933 Spielbush Avenue, Toledo, Ohio 43624.) Monsignor Lawrence Mossing notes in the introduction to the first volume that he initially began working on his nine-volume History of the Diocese of Toledo in 1951 while he was writing his doctoral dissertation at the University of Innsbruck. After serving for twenty-eight years on the Diocesan Tribunal in Toledo, he was released from that work and was able to devote himself to historical research and writing. Needless to say, he has produced a massive work which covers the history of the Diocese of Toledo from the beginnings of Catholicism in Ohio down to the resignation of the fifth bishop of Toledo, the Most Reverend John A. Donovan, in 1980. His approach in writing such a history is very logical,and he divides the material into three parts. The first volume gives a general overview of the diocese’s history. Volumes II through IV describe the history of the different parishes. Each volume deals with a particular section of the diocese,and parishes are individually listed and treated according to the county in which they are located. Organized according to the terms of the different pastors, the individual parish histories tend to be institutional histories centered mainly on the building of churches and schools. Particularly helpful is the inclusion of the statistics of parish membership at the end of each decade. This enables the reader to see quite graphically a parish’s growth or decline over a period of time. Finally, volumes V through IX deal with the reigns of the diocese’s first five bishops. It is here that the author describes the develop- BOOK REVIEWS 707 ment of high schools, charitable institutions and agencies, as well as the growth or decline of religious orders and congregations. He is particularly thorough in volume IX in his discussion of the implementation of Vatican Council II in the Diocese of Toledo. Each volume of the history contains numerous photographs, primarily of churches, schools, and diocesan institutions. In writing this history Monsignor Mossing relies heavily upon previously published histories (especially for the pre-history of the diocese), parish histories, newspapers (both Catholic and secular), status animarum reports, and the Official Diocesan Yearbook which was published by the Diocese of Toledo from 1913 to 1935 and again from 1939 to 1974. While there is considerable evidence of archival research in terms of official documents, little personal correspondence appears in the text. As might be expected when an author has written nine volumes, Monsignor Mossing has accumulated an enormous amount of material. Although at times the History of the Diocese of Toledo is rather tedious reading, it is quite obviously a labor of love on the author’s part. There are, however, drawbacks in this history. Although the organization of the material is logical, it presents certain problems. It tends to be repetitious. For example, the foundation of a parish might be noted in the general history, treated in more detail in one of the volumes dealing with parishes, and then covered once again in the volume dealing with the bishop in whose reign the parish was founded. Perhaps such repetition was unavoidable in view of the author’s desire to be thorough. The history of a religious order or congregation working in the diocese of Toledo is fragmented since it is found in several volumes. At times it is hard to get a coherent picture of the contribution made by a given order or congregation. A more serious criticism would be the lack of overall interpretation. Are there themes or trends that run through the diocese’s history? What were the differences in the style and the emphases of the different episcopal reigns? Moreover, the author tends to avoid controversial events and situations or alludes to them only in passing. One has the impression that the history of the Diocese of Toledo was remarkably tranquil! And yet the Toledo Diocese was originally part of the Diocese of Cleveland, which struggled with ethnic conflict well into the twentieth century. Was Toledo immune from such conflict? Monsignor Mossing has written an institutional history which is concerned principally with bishops, priests, buildings, agencies, and organizations. Without a doubt, there is great value in such a history, but it can fail to develop properly the role of the laity. What did it mean to be a Catholic in Toledo at a given time in the diocese’s history? What were the characteristics of the piety and spirituality of Toledo’s Catholics? Were there any significant members of the laity who contributed to the life of the church or to the betterment of society? Finally, there are questions that go unanswered. For example, although the Diocese of Toledo was formally established on April 15, 1910, it was only on August 11, 1911, that Bishop Joseph Schrembs was appointed as the first Ordinary. Why was there such a long delay? Given the above criticisms,the author,nevertheless,should be complimented for his work. He has tried to faithfully and thoroughly catalogue the affairs and 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 708 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS events of the Diocese of Toledo from its pre-history to 1980 and has been relatively successful in this project. Compliments should also be given to the bishops of Toledo who have supported and published such historical research. THOMAS W.TIFFT Saint Mary Seminary Cleveland, Ohio 708 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Roman Catholicism in America. By Chester Gillis. [Columbia Contemporary American Religion Series.] (New York: Columbia University Press. 1999. Pp. xi, 365. $35.00.) Together with Islam in America by Janet Smith, this volume constitutes the first offering of a new series by Columbia University Press on religion in contemporary America. These first volumes, each focusing on a major religious group,promise the reader an examination of who the adherents are;of their beliefs, practices, and organization; and of their relationships with American society. Furthermore, and it is a theme much emphasized by Gillis with regard to Catholicism, they seek to outline how these religions and their members have been changed by American culture. The stated goal of this book is to create a broad portrait of the Catholic Church in America for the general reader as well as for students. The results are somewhat mixed. Gillis, an associate professor of theology and Catholic studies in Georgetown University, includes seventy-two pages (two chapters) of “A Brief History of Catholics in America,” almost entirely dependent on secondary sources. He appears greatly influenced by the work of Jay Dolan, writing that John Carroll’s earlier “democratic” view of the Church was abandoned after he became a bishop, and repeating the unsubstantiated assertion that in the Church of the Early Republic “the vernacular liturgy was normative” (p. 58). Brief historical contexts are also provided in the other chapters, where the emphasis is on the “Post-Vatican II Church,” though there are several errors in these, e.g., James Hickey was created a cardinal only after the Curran affair (pp. 108–109), Anthony Bevilacqua never served as auxiliary bishop for the archdiocese of New York (p. 100), the meaning of the appointment of women as “deacons” in the Early Church is still a disputed historical point (p. 101), and Pius XII’s encyclical Divino Afflante Spiritu certainly did not call upon Catholic biblical scholars to employ “the historical-critical methods that had long been used by Protestant scholars” (p. 133). Gillis contends that the Catholic Church has been changed by its historical experience in a pluralistic culture, and that in fact “the majority” of American Catholics disagree with significant church teachings. Often relying on anecdotal, as well as some statistical, evidence, the author attempts to describe the current state of Catholicism within the nation. Unfortunately, Gillis often presents himself as a somewhat “preachy” advocate of change within the Church (e.g., BOOK REVIEWS 709 “the church must . . .”). This is especially clear in the sections on women and the church and on sexual and reproductive ethics. His theological perspective is that “revelation continues . . . within the church” (p. 132) and that many of the persons and movements at odds with “the Vatican” (a political model used throughout the book) are part of this process of ongoing revelation, including, he suggests, Frances Kissling and her organization, Catholics for a Free Choice (pp. 37, 119, 182). Great emphasis is given to the decline in the number of vocations to the priesthood and religious life, though no notice is given to those few dioceses and communities that are currently successful in their recruitment efforts (as was done by Charles Morris in American Catholic). Sources are well-noted in endnotes,and an appendix provides a time line. Another appendix offers very brief profiles of fourteen individual Catholics (and the “Kennedy Family”). A glossary, index, list of resources about Catholicism on the Web, and selected list for further reading complete the helpful aids for the reader. Gillis’ book, which attempts a vast survey of recent social and ecclesial developments, is of limited use for the serious student of church history, though he amply demonstrates that for many contemporaries the understanding of what constitutes Catholicism has been profoundly influenced by the American culture. How this has in fact changed the Catholic faith is, for many others, another question. JAMES F. GARNEAU Pontifical College Josephinum Columbus, Ohio 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 709 Trying Times: Essays on Catholic Higher Education in the 20th Century. Edited by William M. Shea with Daniel Van Slyke. [South Florida-RochesterSaint Louis Studies on Religion and the Social Order.] (Atlanta: Scholars Press. 1999. Pp. xx, 264. $39.95.) This volume brings together nine essays written for a year-long seminar and a conference funded by the Lilly Foundation and held at Saint Louis University during the 1996–97 academic year. Each deals with a different question in the recent history of Catholic higher education in the United States, ranging from legal issues to philosophical explorations of its evolving role and status in American society. It is not a book for readers new to the subject, although few chapters assume much prior knowledge and the caliber of writing is generally good. Rather, it seems intended for specialists, or readers familiar with the growing body of work on religion and higher education. As often is the case in books of this type, the quality of the essays is variable, and there is little apparent method in their sequence of presentation. Each is concerned with a discrete subject, and they make no reference to one another. Consequently, there is little sense of dialogue and exchange between the authors, even though it is clear that their views on certain issues are quite differ- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 710 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS ent. While the book’s introduction does provide a commentary on the topics covered, the opportunity for a wider and perhaps livelier discussion is left unfulfilled. Some of the essays provide detailed accounts of events not available in more general histories. This is the case with Charles Wilson’s description of legal cases that have shaped federal policies toward Catholic and other religiously affiliated institutions. Other essays have a somewhat narrower focus. Paul J. Shore looks at the story of Father Claude Heithaus, an early critic of racial discrimination at Saint Louis University, who was silenced by his superiors. Along the same lines, Michael D. Barber, S.J., examines the case of Teilhard de Chardin, who was removed from a teaching post and sent to China for suggesting that he supported the theory of evolution. Regarding scholarship on Catholic campuses, Patrick W. Carey examines the evolution of theology and religious studies programs, and William M. Shea discusses the Macelwane Report on Jesuit scholarship in the 1930’s. Other chapters tackle broader themes, with varying degrees of success. Alice Gallin, for instance, offers thoughtful reflections on the changing religious character of Catholic institutions, suggesting they will not follow in the footsteps of formerly Protestant institutions that today are secular. This essay is preceded by Richard T. Hughes’s account of the changing religious atmosphere on selected Protestant (evangelical) campuses, and together they offer a telling account of religion in contemporary higher education. Together, they complement the argument by William Rehg, S.J., who maintains that Catholic institutions still can ensure that a religious perspective is presented, amidst other views, in the great debates of the age. All three authors recognize that the days of an uncomplicated, unified religious identity are long gone; pluralism is the watchword now, and Catholic teachings must stand scrutiny along with other ideas. The weakest essay in the book is by James Hitchcock, a thinly veiled lament for the lost days when Catholic universities were bound by tradition and NeoScholastic orthodoxy. He accuses these institutions of slavishly following academic fashion and catering to the whims of students, including ever larger numbers of non-Catholics. One wonders whether Hitchcock would have agreed with the silencing of Father Heithaus at Saint Louis more than fifty years ago. Was it the price of tradition preserved? If not, how does one keep the multitudinous forces of modernity at bay? Hitchcock offers few answers to such questions, nor does he carefully examine the historical record for roads not taken. Unfortunately, the varied strands of this book never come together after the introduction. There is no concluding essay to draw lessons; nor is there an index to help others identify key themes and facts for future reference. This is unfortunate, for most of the chapters in this book deserve an audience among those interested in the history and future of Catholic higher education. It is a BOOK REVIEWS 711 useful contribution to the on-going dialogue about a critical facet of Catholic and American culture. JOHN L. RURY DePaul University 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 711 Urban Exodus: Why the Jews Left Boston and the Catholics Stayed. By Gerald Gamm. (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. 1999. Pp. xii, 384. $39.95.) Large-scale social change can be hard to see while it is happening and even harder to explain afterwards. In twentieth-century American cities, the complex interactions of racial, ethnic, and religious populations play out undetected in the ordinary events of everyday life. Streets and neighborhoods do not, in our perceptions, shift overnight from one group to another; rather, the countless decisions people make about where to live and what kinds of community institutions to support can seem unconnected and random. Only with time do patterns emerge. The great merit of Gerald Gamm’s study of the Catholic and Jewish neighborhoods of modern Boston is that it carefully balances the forces, visible and invisible, which caused those groups to behave as they did. A political scientist with historical interests, Gamm emphasizes the structural reasons which led—“allowed,” perhaps—the city’s Jews to move to the surrounding suburbs, while keeping Catholics (mostly, but not exclusively, Irish) rooted in the city proper. In particular, he sees the institutional infrastructure of religion as determinative. Because of their understanding of what constituted a synagogue or temple, Jewish congregations could pick up and follow their members when they moved out of the Roxbury and Dorchester districts to the nearby towns of Brookline and Newton. Since the temple was wherever the people were, it moved when they did. Gamm’s prime example of this is the Reform Temple Mishkan Tefila, which moved five times between its founding in 1895 and its arrival at its present site in the suburbs in 1958. The Catholic stronghold of Saint Peter’s parish in Dorchester, by contrast, has occupied the same church building since 1891. Given their different notions of congregational membership, rootedness, and authority (Gamm’s three categories of analysis), these parishioners were less willing to leave their neighborhood. As a result, it was Boston’s Catholic population which bore the brunt of (and, often, took the blame for) later urban turmoil, especially that associated with desegregation of the public school system in the 1970’s. Gamm’s thesis is persuasive as far as it goes. He helps explain apparently disproportionate rates of outmigration and suburbanization. But what does it mean to say that “Catholics stayed” in the city? Parishes and schools certainly did stay put, but many Catholic individuals and families moved to the suburbs 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 712 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS no less eagerly than their Jewish neighbors, their places in the city taken up by very different ethnic populations, especially Hispanics and, more recently, Vietnamese, Cambodians, and Haitians. To lump all these groups together, just because they share membership in the same church, is to risk eliding important distinctions. Moreover,Gamm is a little loose in his application of the term “suburb.” Sometimes the word denotes one of the distinct towns outside of Boston, each with a very different character from that of the city; sometimes it denotes a residential neighborhood within Boston. These districts may indeed have their own feel and traditions, but they are all nonetheless part of the larger political entity that is the city and therefore subject to its dynamics. Even so, Gamm’s book joins a growing shelf of books which explore the complex twentieth century history of America’s cities, and it is particularly welcome for its reinsertion of the role of religion into the discussion. JAMES M. O’TOOLE Boston College 712 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS The Life and Times of Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen. By Myles P. Murphy. (New York: Alba House/Society of St. Paul. 2000. Pp. xvi, 182. $14.95.) This book, ostensibly written by the Reverend Myles Murphy as a paean to the priestly life and example of Archbishop Fulton Sheen, refers liberally to Sheen’s two major works on their common vocation: The Priest Is Not His Own (1963) and Those Mysterious Priests (1974). Unfortunately, these books serve as an ironic commentary on Murphy’s writing efforts, for this book is definitely “not his own”, and why it was ever allowed to be published is both a “mystery” and a travesty. In fact, a more honest and accurate title for this slight volume would be “An Unauthorized, Thinly Disguised and Abbreviated Version of the Dissertation of Kathleen Riley Fields” (University of Notre Dame,1988). Both the book,and the thesis written by Murphy at the Marian Research Institute-University of Dayton, violate the rules of academia and ethics in publication, as Murphy has attempted to pass off my research and writing as his own: most of the quotations from Sheen were taken—verbatim and without attribution—from my dissertation, giving the reader the false impression that he had read widely and had carefully chosen those quotations; more than half of the footnotes were likewise lifted from my dissertation, quoting secondary sources (i.e., monographs on American and Catholic history written by William Halsey, Alan Brinkley, and Donald Crosby, S.J.) which never appear in the bibliography! Such slipshod research methods cannot be excused by Father Murphy’s sentimental devotion to Bishop Sheen and his memory, and the author’s feeble attempts to cover his tracks by occasionally footnoting my work (eleven times in all) are painfully transparent. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect surrounding this publication is to be found in the “Reviews” inserts at the beginning of the book. Glowing accolades BOOK REVIEWS 713 from major public figures of American Catholicism—such as Francis Cardinal George, the Reverend Richard John Neuhaus, and even the late John Cardinal O’Connor—praise Murphy for finally telling Sheen’s story, with “honesty” and “well chosen quotations.” These constitute a mockery of both legitimate scholarship and Bishop Sheen’s life, and for the author or publisher to have secured them under false pretenses is unconscionable. Surely, Sheen’s life story deserves to be told—my dissertation analyzed Sheen as a representative figure in terms of “An American Catholic Response to the Twentieth Century.” But Father Murphy deserves no credit for having done so. He should have taken notice of Bishop Sheen’s image of the priest as “mountain climber” in The Priest Is Not His Own, and the warning to be wary of the “abysses below” as the Holy Spirit bids him to reach higher. Instead,Murphy has ended up on the dangerous precipice of plagiarism. KATHLEEN L. RILEY Ohio Dominican College 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 BOOK REVIEWS 713 Redeeming Culture: American Religion in an Age of Science. By James Gilbert. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1997. Pp. x, 407. $28.95 cloth; $19.00 paperback.) James Gilbert examines a wide array of episodes primarily in postwar America (c. 1945–1962) to illustrate a certain “unity of discourse” (p. 4) in the complex relationship between religion and science within American culture. Gilbert maintains that both religion and science “. . . are projections onto the human and natural worlds . . .” (p. 15) with actively committed adherents who engage the other “projection” as competitor or collaborator and sometimes both simultaneously. His careful examination of specific cases of competition/collaboration challenges the standard depiction that reduces the two contingents to unyielding adversaries. Gilbert uses William Jennings Bryan’s Scopes trial debacle to highlight earlier tensions between Americans’ democratic common sensibilities and elite scientists’ specialized knowledge. Subsequent chapters treat popularizing of science through film such as Hollywood’s version of the Manhattan project, Frank Capra’s religious framing of scientific research, and Moody Bible Institute’s production of science films. The latter films play a significant role in integrating religion into postwar military training which Gilbert analyzes in two chapters. Other chapters focus upon national organizations such as Rabbi Louis Finkelstein’s Conference on Science, Philosophy, and Religion, the Moody Bible Institute’s American Scientific Affiliation,the religiously sympathetic social scientists’ Society for the Scientific Study of Religion and the Religious Research Association, and the Institute on Religion in the Age of Science. Gilbert uses the controversy surrounding Immanuel Velikovsky’s Worlds in Collision and UFO debates to focus upon politics among scientists and their failed attempts to con- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 714 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS trol popular religion’s influence in scientific debates. The book ends with an account of how the United States Science Pavilion and the Christian Witness pavilion came to be next to each other at the 1962 Seattle World Fair and that placement’s symbolic significance. Gilbert provides a fascinating, well-written narrative. Reviewing footnotes underscores the careful research that informs each chapter. In his treatment of such varied elements of cultural production, Gilbert verifies his initial assertion about a certain unity of discourse on religion and science within American culture. Gilbert ably demonstrates that William Jennings Bryan’s response at the Scopes trial is both emblematic of the science/religion debate in a democratic culture and determinative for subsequent Fundamentalist and evangelical Protestant discourse on religion and science. Gilbert is to be especially commended, however, in not limiting the focus to the overly rehearsed Protestant discourse on science and religion in America. The author includes important Jewish and Catholic responses to science and religion. At the same time, Gilbert’s focus upon “unity of discourse” circumscribes his analysis of the three religious traditions’ distinctive approaches to science and religion. He offers, for example, little evaluation of how the Catholic Frank Capra differs from Moody Institute’s Irwin Moon in framing science within religion in their films. Given Gilbert’s introductory statement emphasizing the dichotomies between religious and scientific views, it is sometimes difficult to decipher whether dichotomies identified are from Gilbert’s perspective or the person’s being discussed within a particular chapter. These latter comments do not, however, diminish the significant contribution which Gilbert makes to understanding the cultural dimensions of religion and science and their relationship in the United States. This book would be of interest to those in American cultural studies, especially Cold War culture, the history of religion and science, and the study of new-age religions. The book, now available in paperback, could be successfully used in upper division undergraduate and graduate courses in science and religion or twentieth-century U.S. religious and scientific culture. College and university libraries should include it in their American history collection. SANDRA YOCUM MIZE University of Dayton 714 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Canadian Les congrégations religieuses. De la France au Québec, 1880–1914. Tome 1: Premières bourrasques, 1880–1900; Tome 2: Au plus fort de la tourmente, 1901–1904. By Guy Laperrière. (Sainte-Foy, Canada: Les Presses de l’Université Laval. 1996, 1999. Pp. xii, 228, 597. Paperback.) For a period of thirty-four years, from 1880 to 1914, a republican government was in power in France. One of its primary concerns was to ensure on the one hand that the lay and republican values proclaimed by the French Revolution BOOK REVIEWS 715 were securely established in French society, and on the other hand that the Catholic Church’s influence be limited to the ecclesiastical and religious spheres understood in a narrow sense. This meant that the extensive influence of the French clergy, religious congregations in particular, needed to be curtailed, especially in public education. In order to achieve these objectives, beginning in 1880 the government of France legislated a series of measures that restricted the rights of religious congregations to teach in public schools, imposed three years of military service on all young men, and ultimately (1904) forbade any member of a religious congregation to teach in a French public school;then,in 1905,diplomatic relations between France and the Vatican were severed. Because of these progressively more restrictive measures in France, a growing number of French Catholic religious congregations of men and women undertook to send more and more of their members to work in French Canada; they came either as reinforcements for the thirty-three French congregations that were already established there before 1900, or more often as members of another twenty-five congregations that had never worked in Canada before 1900. It is noteworthy that several French congregations were refused entry into Canada by various Québec bishops who felt that they had more than their share of priests, sisters, and brothers. Professor Guy Laperrière, of the University of Sherbrooke, believes that this major influx of new priests, brothers, and sisters, constitutes a major event in the religious history of Québec, the province where most of them settled. His study documents the historical background of his topic in France and analyzes the coming of thousands between 1880 and 1914; more than 1,200 of these religious men and women came to Québec between 1902 and 1904 alone. He explains the reasons for this major transfer of Catholic religious personnel from France to Canada. Because of the conflictual setting wherein the Catholic Church of France was perceived by its lay and republican adversaries as favorable to the monarchy of the ancien régime and opposed to republican and liberal values, and because the French expatriate clergy, as well as many French-Canadian clergy, felt that they were being persecuted by an oppressive, lay, republican, masonic, liberal regime, the arrival of so many refugee French clergy in Québec would have been a major factor in establishing and reinforcing a reactionary and antiliberal policy and mindset in the Catholic Church of Canada, of Québec in particular. Laperrière has divided his study into three parts, and three distinct volumes. The first, published as tome 1 in 1996, was a review of the religious situation in France and Québec during the nineteenth century, particularly as it pertained to religious congregations of men and women. This first volume is largely based on secondary sources. It provides a good review of a period when Catholic religious congregations of men and especially of women were growing at a phenomenal rate in France. Indeed,several hundred congregations of women alone were founded in France during the nineteenth century. This explains in large 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 716 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS part the major international missionary thrust of the Catholic Church in the nineteenth century; a large percentage of these missionaries were French, whether in Canada, the United States, Africa, or elsewhere in the world. Laperrière’s second volume covers the heart of his topic. It is a detailed study of the four years from 1901 to 1904, the years when the largest number of religious men and women were either expelled or left France in self-imposed exile. The two volumes (the third, covering the years 1905–1914, is yet to appear) document in great detail the events associated with this story. The reader not only gets an extensive record of the departures of many of the religious congregations in question, but also frequent blow-by-blow descriptions of the correspondence and public perceptions of the emigration and/or expulsions of the sisters, brothers, and priests in question. Some may debate the merits of writing and publishing three volumes on a question that could undoubtedly be dealt with more succinctly. In this extensive narration, Laperrière too frequently lists “one damn fact after another”; his citations are very numerous. Consequently, the reader can easily get bogged down in citations from correspondence, and commentary that merely repeats what has been said many times before. This reviewer believes that a much more condensed and tighter narrative would have made for much more interesting reading. Readers who are seeking detailed information about this topic will appreciate Laperrière’s study. It is a useful reference that highlights a question of importance in Catholic Church history in the twentieth century. The study is rigorously documented. The two volumes include an index of names and one of religious congregations. ROBERT CHOQUETTE University of Ottawa 716 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Latin American Esclavos, patriotas y poetas a la sombra de la cruz: cinco ensayos sobre catolicismo e historia cubana. By Manuel P. Maza Miquel, S.J. (Santo Domingo: Centro de Estudios Sociales Padre Juan Montalvo, S.J. 1999. Pp. 266. Paperback.) Manuel P. Maza Miquel’s Esclavos, patriotas y poetas a la sombra de la cruz is a compilation of six articles—not five as the title states—which had been published between 1987 and 1997 in the Dominican journal Estudios Sociales. All but one of the articles relate directly to the history of the Catholic Church in Cuba, ranging in chronological scope from early colonial times to the present. A thought-provoking prologue seeks to provide unity to the volume by outlining five principles which, according to Maza Miquel, have historically characterized the Catholic Church’s social and political stances. BOOK REVIEWS 717 The five principles introduced in the book’s prologue which are elaborated upon in subsequent chapters are summarized by the author as follows: (1) whenever the Catholic Church has been tied to power, it has endowed the interests it shares with those in power with sacred qualities; (2) the Church, in its attempt to legitimize particular interests, has presented the postures that sustain them as exclusively valid while dismissing dissenting views; (3) the Church’s association with power has forced those in opposition to power to combat the Church; (4) whenever the Church has been associated to the ruling classes, the most adequate responses to major challenges have not come from the Church but rather from its adversaries; and (5) throughout Cuba’s history, individuals with opposing religious views have oftentimes converged around common social and political agendas. The book’s first chapter is a very useful and balanced overview of the Catholic Church’s history in Cuba. The chapter traces the various challenges that the Church confronted during the colonial era: native religious practices; the threat of pirates and filibusterers from Protestant nations;African slavery; and the tensions between the patriotic inclinations of the native clergy and the increasingly pro-Spanish stances of the Catholic Church. Toward the end of the first chapter Maza Miquel provides a very insightful periodization of the relationship between the Catholic Church and the Castro government since 1959. Chapter two focuses exclusively on the subject of the Church and slavery. While this is a useful synthesis of the topic’s major themes, it does not offer much in terms of new information or interpretations. This overview of the relations between the colony’s official church and the institution of slavery rests exclusively on the views and responses of the Church and its ministers and fails to even approximate the responses of the slaves to the imposition of the Catholic faith. Some mention of Santería and other syncretic religious manifestations would have made for a more comprehensive approach. Perhaps the book’s weakest chapter, “León XIII, José Martí y el Padre McGlynn” (Chapter 4), narrates the process of excommunication and eventual reestablishment of Father Edward McGlynn, a progressive Irish clergyman from the Archdiocese of New York. Using these events as a backdrop,Maza Miquel attempts to argue that the Cuban patriot José Martí recognized the positive side of Catholicism because of his admiration for Father McGlynn. This conclusion does not square with Martí’s extensive anticlerical record. Martí may have sympathized with the cleric’s progressive views on poverty and other social issues, but it is a mistake to extrapolate that to mean that Martí had any sympathy for the Catholic Church. Martí once stated: “Christianity has died at the hands of Catholicism.” He vocally opposed the exploitative and oppressive features of organized religion and aspired to a lay state with a secular educational system for post-independence Cuba and for reduced powers for the Catholic Church. He stated categorically that “when . . . that [old] society has been crushed and another, new society has been created . . . Catholicism must perish.” 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 718 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS The volume’s closing chapters deal with the Church during the early republican era. Chapter 5 looks into Máximo Gómez and the Church around the subject of the appointment of independent Cuba’s first bishops; and Chapter 6 studies the changing political views of the Cuban priest Desiderio Mesnier. In conclusion, Maza Miquel’s book despite some of the shortcomings outlined above will be a useful source on the Catholic Church in Cuba from early colonial times to the present. Its attempt to identify long-range patterns is one of its major strengths. Overall it provides a balanced perspective that recognizes the political and social errors of the institution while highlighting its achievements. There are few sources on the Church in colonial Cuba and even fewer which address its complicated relations with the state. This book, thus, begins to fill an important gap. LUIS MARTÍNEZ-FERNÁNDEZ Rutgers University 718 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS Indian Origin of India’s St. Thomas Christians: A Historiographical Critique. By Benedict Vadakkekara. (Delhi: Media House. 1995. Pp. xii, 509. $30.00.) This book is the result of extraordinary labor by the author. He makes reference to all the archival and published sources available on the topic. In itself the topic should not be controversial, but in the hands of fanatic Latinists and avid believers of the Saint Thomas tradition in the Malabar it became just that. The Latinists reject outright the tradition that Saint Thomas the Apostle founded the church in Malabar as historically unfounded while the Malabarites accept it without question. Both sides argue for their causes, not for historical accuracy. The author makes it his task to find the historical truth. For this he employs some of the well-worn tools of historiography. The first thing the author does is to establish the identity of the Saint Thomas Christians. This is important as Christians in several regions of the Middle East and Asia claim to be descendants of the people converted by Thomas the Apostle in the first century. Even in Malabar itself there are groups who attribute their evangelization to Thomas as they are descendants of people from regions other than India which, by their tradition, were beneficiaries of Thomas’ apostleship. Vadakkekara narrowly defines Saint Thomas Christians of India as those who are descendants of the first-century converts to Christianity who received their baptism in Malabar. The author further narrows the definition to include only those who follow the “Law of Thomas,” the customs and traditions sanctioned by the Apostle himself; those who used the Syriac language in their liturgy; those who maintained the exclusivity of the caste regulations handed down from their Hindu ancestors with regard to etiquette, pollution and purification, meals, and marriages. He also narrows down the list of names designating, exclusively and without doubt or ambiguity, this Christian community of BOOK REVIEWS 719 Malabar. They are “M r Thoma Christians,” “Nasr ni M ppilas,” “Christians of the Serra,” “Syrian Christians,” and “Chaldeans.” Further Vadakkekara identifies the present-day Christian communities in Malabar who are offshoots of the original community the Apostle Thomas founded. They are the two churches in communion with the papacy, the Syro-Malabar and Syro-Malankara churches, and the six churches which are outside the obedience of Rome, namely, the Syrian Orthodox, the Independent Syrian Church of Malankara, the M r Thomite Church, Saint Thomas Evangelical Church of India, the Church of South India, and the Church of the East. Next the author discusses briefly the available sources that might provide historical validity to the tradition that Saint Thomas the Apostle founded the church in Malabar. The first among these is the tradition itself that is composed of the belief that Thomas founded this church and the religious, ritualistic, and liturgical “experiences” and “expressions” that sprang from this tradition. Second among the sources is the physical presence of the tomb of Saint Thomas in Mylapore, near Madras, and the many facts, historical and otherwise, associated with it. The third source is the Acta Thomae, an apocryphal work written in Syriac, reportedly during Thomas’ own lifetime, which contain references to his apostolic work in India, aside from descriptions of his travels and other activities, all of which became part of the folklore and tradition of Malabar Christians. The author, then, analyzes the evidentiary value of these sources and weighs their significance in proving or disproving the historicity of Thomas’ apostleship in India. In support of the tradition he marshals the following arguments: One, the tradition itself is so unique, consistent through centuries, unanimous among various groups in the region, clearly stated and understood by the people, and the facts of the story are quite probable considering the geography of the Malabar and its history of trade with the Middle East. Two,Thomas’ tomb in Mylapore, the relics (physical remains) that were discovered in it, and the clear and unbroken oral tradition concerning them constitute a strong enough case in support of the tradition. Three, the recent numismatic and archaeological discoveries confirming the historicity of Gondophares, the Indian king who is a central character of the Acta Thomae, the continuing presence of ecclesiastical and liturgical practices that had been built around the Acta Thomae, and the many references travelers and missionaries to India made in the early centuries of Christianity concerning the presence of Christians in India. These same arguments also could be disputed on various grounds, which is what the author does next. He lists the following factors which make the tradition disputable. They are: the absence of contemporary documents regarding the tradition; ambiguity about the name of “Thomas”; prevalence of Acta Thomae folklores in several places and the variations and contradictions within them; the possibility of Nestorian beginnings of Christianity in India; various uncertainties about the tomb of Thomas, such as the rival claim of Muslims that this was the tomb of one of their saints; and the problem of determining Gon- 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 720 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 BOOK REVIEWS dophares as an Indian king,as there was ambiguity about what the name “India” meant in the early centuries of the Christian era. In the third and final chapter of the book Vadakkekara goes over the same arguments, based on the same evidentiary sources to point out to a simple conclusion, that is, there is not sufficient historical documentation to determine, without question, that Saint Thomas the Apostle founded the Church of Malabar. Given the existence of frequent trade contacts by sea between the Middle East and India, it would have been possible and even probable that Thomas came to preach the Gospel in the Malabar. But that is not to say that it is a historical fact. The author accepts Samuel Hugh Moffett’s position that “given the difficulty of proving a negative answer and an equal hesitation to accept unwritten traditions without some reservation, most opinions range from “possible” to “probable,” with a discernible trend toward the latter position since the discovery of the Gundaphar evidence and renewal of interest in oral tradition as a source of history.”* Vadakkekara does an admirable job of pulling together arguments from many well-known sources as well as from new discoveries and recently published works. The organization of the book, however, is extremely cumbersome and even confusing. To dedicate separate sections of the book to argue the pros and cons of each source pertaining to the historicity of Saint Thomas’apostleship in Malabar is rather unnecessary. Arguing the two sides in the same section would have been better, especially from the perspective of the lay reader. Not withstanding a few such defects, this book is a valuable contribution and the most comprehensive work on the topic to date. CYRIAC K. PULLAPILLY Saint Mary’s College Notre Dame, Indiana *Samuel Hugh Moffett, A History of Christianity in Asia, Vol. I: Beginnings to 1500 (San Francisco, 1992), p. 35. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 PERIODICAL LITERATURE GENERAL AND MISCELLANEOUS Was heißt: Sinn der Geschichte? Jörn Rüsen. Theologie und Glaube, 90 (1, 2000), 64–75. La professione di fede del “motu proprio” [Ad tuendam fidem] in prospettiva storica. Daniele Menozzi. Cristianesimo nella storia, XXI (Feb., 2000), 7–34. Abadologio del Monasterio de San Millán de la Cogolla (siglos VI-XIX ). Ernest Zaragoza i Pascual. Studia Monastica, 42 (1, 2000), 185–223. Die Mosaikinschriften der Bethlehemer Geburtskirche vor dem Hintergrund der byzantinischen Tradition der Konzilssynopsen. Hermann Josef Sieben. Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum, 31 (2, 1999), 255–296. El estudio de la lengua árabe entre los franciscanos de Marruecos (siglos XIIIXVIII). Ramón Lourido Díaz, O.F.M. Archivo Ibero-Americano, 60 ( Jan.–Apr., 2000), 3–34. La descalcez franciscana en España, Hispanoamérica y Extremo Oriente. Síntesis histórica,geográfica y bibliográfica.Antolín Abad Pérez,O.F.M.,and Cayetano Sánchez Fuertes, O.F.M. Archivo Ibero-Americano, LIX (Sept.–Dec., 1999), 457–788. Revenues of the Parochial Benefices in the Sandomierz Archdeaconry in the 14th-18th Centuries. Waldemar Kowalski. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 95 ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 76–106. Natura e origine della potestà dei vescovi nella dottrina post-tridentina (1563–1869). Marek Sygut, S.J. Periodica de re Canonica, LXXXVIII (3, 1999), 533–578. Catholic Theology and Intercultural Contact in the Americas: A Comparison of New Spain and New France. Jeffrey T. Zalar. Neue Zeitschrift für Missionswissenschaft, 56 (2, 2000), 97–116. La biblioteca del convento de San Antonio de Padua de Velada (Toledo): origen y fortuna de la Libreria Grande de los marqueses de Velada.Santiago Martínez Hernández. Archivo Ibero-Americano, 60 ( Jan.–Apr., 2000), 35–68. Giuseppe Dossetti e la storia del Novecento. Percorsi per una rilettura. Giorgio Vecchio. Humanitas, LV (Apr., 2000), 218–232. 738 PERIODICAL LITERATURE 739 Observatories of the Society of Jesus, 1814–1998. Agustín Udías, S.J. Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu, LXIX ( Jan.–June, 2000), 151–178. Fragen zur Seligsprechung Pius’ IX. Klaus Schatz, S.J. Stimmen der Zeit, 218 (Aug., 2000), 507–516. Divinely Sanctioned: The Anglo-American Cold War Alliance and the Defence of Western Civilization and Christianity, 1945–48. Dianne Kirby. Journal of Contemporary History, 35 ( July, 2000), 385–412. I cardinali di Paolo VI (1963–1978): breve contributo sulle “porpore” del dopo Concilio. Salvatore Campo. Istituto Paolo VI, Notiziario No. 39 (2000), 50–81. ANCIENT Die Ursprünge der christlichen Gebetsostung. Martin Wallraff. Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 111 (2, 2000), 169–184. The Christological Controversy at the Synod of Antioch in 168/9. U. M. Lang. Journal of Theological Studies, 51 (Apr., 2000), 54–80. L’epitafio di Abercio: uno status quaestionis ed alcune osservazioni. Ilaria Ramelli. Aevum, LXXIV ( Jan.–Apr., 2000), 191–205. Vita Polycarpi: An Ante-Nicene Vita. Alistair Stewart-Sykes. Augustinianum, XXXX ( June, 2000), 21–33. Cathedral Church or Cathedral Churches? The Situation at Constantinople (c. 260–404 AD). Wendy Mayer. Orientalia Christiana Periodica, 66 (1, 2000), 49–68. Bestiae Christum loquuntur ou des habitants du désert et de la ville dans la Vita Pauli de saint Jérôme. Robert Wisnieski. Augustinianum, XXXX ( June, 2000), 105–144. Who Came to Hear John Chrysostom Preach? Recovering a Late Fourth-Century Preacher’s Audience. Wendy Mayer. Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses, LXXVI (Apr., 2000), 73–87. L’origine de la scène de la nativité dans l’art paléochrétien (d’après les sarcophages d’Occident). Catalogue et interprétation. Dino Milinović. Antiquité Tardive, 7 (1999), 299–329. Grazia e storicità nel disegno del De civitate Dei: un percorso di ragione. Giuseppe Fidelibus. Augustinianum, XXXX ( June, 2000), 225–254. La precettistica antica e la Regola monastica di S. Agostino. Nello Cipriani. Augustinianum, XXXIX (Dec., 1999), 365–380. Funeral as a Hagiographic Motif in Vita Augustini and Some Other Biographies of Bishops. Siver Dagemark. Augustinianum, XXXX ( June, 2000), 255–289. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 740 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 PERIODICAL LITERATURE San Benito y Justiniano (II).Anselmo Navarrete.Studia Monastica, 42 (1,2000), 113–156. Les “manières de table” de Grégoire le Grand: des cuillers envoyès de Lérins à Rome. Bruno Judic. Le Moyen Age, CVI (1, 2000), 49–62. MEDIEVAL The Ordination of Women in the Early Middle Ages. Gary Macy. Theological Studies, 61 (Sept., 2000), 481–507. Geistliche und weltliche Gewalt im Mittelalter. Arnold Angenendt. Theologie und Glaube, 90 (1, 2000), 1–19. Il cenobitismo missionario di Agostino di Canterbury e la Peregrinatio dei monaci celtici. Elena Malaspina. Augustinianum, XXXIX (Dec., 1999), 467–504. David Tserouni sur la hiérarchie ecclésiastique. Un traité arménien du VIIe siècle. Michel van Esbroeck. Orientalia Christiana Periodica, 66 (1, 2000), 89–117. The Anglo-Saxon Bishop and His Book. Richard W. Pfaff.Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester, 81 (Spring, 1999), 3–24. Missionare und Mönche auf dem Weg nach Rom und Monte Cassino im 8. Jahrhundert. Lutz e. v. Padberg. Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 111 (2, 2000), 145–168. Karl der Groß und Papst Leo III. 799 in Paderborn—Dichtung und Wahrheit. Karl Hengst. Theologie und Glaube, 90 (1, 2000), 20–39. Zur Notitia de servitio monasteriorum von 819. Heinrich Wagner. Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters, 55 (2, 1999), 417–438. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des Klosters Prüm an der Wende vom 9. zum 10. Jahrhundert.Erich Wisplinghoff.Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters, 55 (2, 1999), 439–475. Des Miracula inédits de Saint Géraud d’Aurillac (†909). Étude, édition critique et traduction française. Anne-Marie Bultot-Verleysen. Analecta Bollandiana, 118 (1–2, 2000), 47–141. El obispo Salvato y el episcopologio salmanticense de la segunda mitad del siglo X. M. Carriedo Tejedo. Salmanticensis, XLVI (May–Aug., 1999), 243–262. The English Roots of Abbo of Fleury’s Political Thought. Elizabeth Dachowski. Revue Bénédictine, 110 (1–2, 2000), 95–105. Medieval Christian Crowds and the Origins of Crowd Psychology. Gary Dickson. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 95 ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 54–75. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 741 The Wall Paintings in the Panteón de los Reyes at León: A Cycle of Intercession. Rose Walker. Art Bulletin, LXXXII ( June, 2000), 200–225. Divina pagina and the Narration of History in Orderic Vitalis’ Historia ecclesiastica. Elisabeth Mégier. Revue Bénédictine, 110 (1–2, 2000), 106–123. Melisenda regina crociata di Gerusalemme. Una sorprendente figura di donna. Igino Grego. Asprenas, 46 (Sept., 1999), 373–384. Le canonizzazione di san Bernardo di Clairvaux. Tra politica e religiosità. Goffredo Viti. Vivens Homo, X ( Jan.–June, 1999), 53–78. Peter’s Throne and Augustine’s Chair: Rome and Canterbury from Baldwin (1184–90) to Robert Winchelsey (1297–1313). Jane Sayers. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 (Apr., 2000), 249–266. Was war das weltliche Kanonikerinstitut im Mittelalter? Dom- und Kollegiatstifte: Eine Einführung und eine neue Perspektive (suite et fin). Guy P. Marchal. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 95 ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 7–53. Federico II e l’Italia: le grandi signorie monastiche tra Chiesa e Impero (Italia centrale). Wilhelm Kurze. Archivio Storico Italiano, CLVIII (2, 2000), 215–254. Fearn Abbey as a Monastic Institution. Mark Dilworth. Innes Review, LI (Spring, 2000), 40–54. Du Berry en Curie, la carrière du cardinal Eudes de Chateauroux (1190?–1273) et son reflet dans sa prédication. Alexis Charansonnet. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 86 ( Jan.–June, 2000), 5–37. De Graeco perito dialogi catholico-orthodoxi, Constantino Meliteniota. Benedykt Huculak, O.F.M. Antonianum, LXXV (Apr.–June, 2000), 235–275. Die lectura des Franciscus de Albano aus dem Jahr 1276 über die constitutiones novissimae Papst Gregors X.(1.Teil).Burkhard Roberg.Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum, 31 (2, 1999), 297–366. Mystics, Demoniacs, and the Physiology of Spirit Possession in Medieval Europe. Nancy Caciola. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 42 (Apr., 2000), 268–306. Augustine in Byzantium. Josef Lössl. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 (Apr., 2000), 267–295. The Monkey’s Funeral in the Pilgrimage Window, York Minster. Paul Hardwick. Art History, 23 ( June, 2000), 290–299. Der unfehlbare Lehrentscheid des Papstes im Prozeß gegen Johannes de Polliaco (1318–1321). Ludwig Hödl. Freiburger Zeitschrift für Philosophie und Theologie, 47 (1–2, 2000), 52–76. Grégoire Palamas (1296–1359) moine, théologien, pasteur (II). M.-Emmanuel Cazabonne. Collectanea Cisterciensia, 62 (1, 2000), 85–99. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 742 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Les béguines de l’hôpital des Wetz de Douai de 1350 à 1372. Jean-Pierre Deregnaucourt. Revue du Nord, 82 ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 35–52. “Accipiant Qui Vocati Sunt”: Richard Fleming’s Reform Sermon at the Council of Constance.Chris L.Nighman.Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 ( Jan., 2000), 1–36. L’iconographie de saint Yves et la politique dynastique des Montfort à la fin du Moyen Age. Jean-Marie Guillouët. Annales de Bretagne et des Pays de l’Ouest, 107 (1, 2000), 23–40. La pace nella fede. Un progetto di tolleranza religiosa di Niccolò Cusano. Hanna Barbara Gerl. Humanitas, LV (Feb., 2000), 10–22. Dall’imago pietatis alle cappelle gregoriane: immagini,racconti e devozioni per la “visione” e la cristomimesi. Mario Sensi. Collectanea Franciscana, 70 (1–2, 2000), 79–148. Évêque par l’élection du chapitre ou par la volonté du roi? François Alamand (env. 1413–1505), protonotaire apostolique, élu de l’Eglise de Mende et vicaire général de Julien Della Rovere. Philippe Maurice. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 86 ( Jan.–June, 2000), 39–54. ¿Mujeres divinas? Autoría femenina e identidad monástica en los orígenes de la Orden de la Inmaculada Concepción (1484–1526). M.a del Mar Graña Cid. Miscelánea Comillas, 58 ( Jan.–June, 2000), 117–153. SIXTEENTH CENTURY Dosso Dossi, Garofalo, and the Costabili Polyptych: Imaging Spiritual Authority. Giancarlo Fiorenza. Art Bulletin, LXXXII ( June, 2000), 252–279. Zwei Schwerter—Zwei Reiche—Die Trennung der Mächte in der Reformation. Eberhard Jüngel. Theologie und Glaube, 90 (1, 2000), 146–166. “The Articular Disease”: Erasmus’ Charges That the Theologians Have Let the Church Down. Charles G. Nauert. Mediaevalia, 22 (Spec. Issue, 1999), 9–27. Opposition Drama and the Resolution of Disputes in Early Tudor England: Cardinal Wolsey and the Abbot of Chester. Tim Thornton. Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester, 81 (Spring, 1999), 25–47. Romanità and Grazia: Giulio Clovio’s Pauline Frontispieces for Marino Grimani. Elena Calvillo. Art Bulletin, LXXXII ( June, 2000), 280–297. A Worldly Reform: Honor and Pastoral Practice in the Career of Cardinal Ercole Gonzaga (1505–63). Paul V. Murphy. Sixteenth Century Journal, XXXI (Summer, 2000), 399–418. Ignatius von Loyola und die Städte der Welt. Michael Sievernich. Geist und Leben, 73 (May–June, 2000), 164–178. Vergerio’s Anti-Nicodemite Propaganda and England, 1547–1558. M. A. Overell. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 (Apr., 2000), 296–318. Marco religioso y cultural en el Japón de San Francisco Javier. Jesús González Valles. Studium, XL (1, 2000), 77–91. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 743 Note sull’Inquisizione romana tra il 1557 e il 1561. Giovanni Romeo. Rivista di Storia e Letteratura Religiosa, XXXVI (1, 2000), 115–141. Religión y política. Diez cartas inéditas de fray Bernardo de Fresneda, confesor de Felipe II. J. Ignacio Tellechea Idígoras. Scriptorium Victoriense, XLVI ( Jan.–Dec., 1999), 259–294. El obispo fray Bernardo de Fresneda y la Reforma tridentina en la Iglesia de Córdoba. José García Oro and María José Portela Silva. Carthaginensia, XVI ( Jan.–June, 2000), 139–181. Cooking with the Pope: The Language of Food and Protest in Calvinist and Catholic Polemic from the 1560’s. Jeff Persels. Mediaevalia, 22 (Spec. Issue, 1999), 29–53. The Refugees in La Rochelle during the Third War of Religion, 1568–1570. Pascal Rambeaud. French History, 14 (Mar., 2000), 1–12. I capitoli generali dei cappuccini e gli anni santi. Vincenzo Criscuolo. O.F.M.Cap. Collectanea Franciscana, 70 (1–2, 2000), 149–168. Antonio Possevino, S.J., as Papal Mediator between Emperor Rudolf II and King Stephan Báthory. John Patrick Donnelly, S.J. Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu, LXIX ( Jan.–June, 2000), 3–56. The Identity and Life of Thomas Bentley, Compiler of The Monument of Matrones (1582). Colin B. Atkinson and Jo B. Atkinson. Sixteenth Century Journal, XXXI (Summer, 2000), 323–348. The Revolt of Paris, 1588: Aristocratic Insurgency and the Mobilization of Popular Support. Stuart Carroll. French Historical Studies, 23 (Spring, 2000), 301–337. Cofradía y Junta de Hijosdalgo de San Martín de Sarría. José Iturrate. Scriptorium Victoriense, XLVI ( Jan.–Dec., 1999), 295–342. Morals and Moral Regulation in Protestant France. Raymond A. Mentzer.Journal of Interdisciplinary History, XXXI (Summer, 2000), 1–20. “Your selfe be judge and answer your selfe”: Formation of Protestant Identity in A Conference Betwixt a Mother a Devout Recusant and Her Sonne a Zealous Protestant. Joseph Puterbaugh. Sixteenth Century Journal, XXXI (Summer, 2000), 419–431. Huguenots en Utopie, ou Le genre utopique et la Réforme (XVIe–XVIIIe siècles). Frank Lestringant. Bulletin de la Société de l’Histoire du Protestantisme Français, 146 (Apr.–June, 2000), 253–306. SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES The Doctrine of Transubstantiation and the English Protestant Dispossession of Demons. Kathleen R. Sands. History, 85 ( July, 2000), 446–462. The Beatified Martyrs of Ireland (6): Dominic Collins, S.J. Francis Finegan. Irish Theological Quarterly, 65 (Summer, 2000), 157–167. Rezeption der Schriften der heiligen Theresia von Avila in Frankreich von den Anfängen bis ins 19. Jahrhundert. Cornelia Helfrich. Teresianum, LI (1, 2000), 127–150. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 744 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Teresa d’Avila nella vita e nel pensiero di Francesco di Sales: ricerca storicoascetica. Arnaldo Pedrini. Teresianum, LI (1, 2000), 151–167. Nel Seicento della decadenza italiana: Lelio Marretti, o della lezione delle storie tra tacitismo e pratica politica alla corte pontificia. Anna Maria Martellone. Archivio Storico Italiano, CLVIII (2, 2000), 255–305. Christoph von Dohna, Christian von Anhalt e la Istoria del Concilio Tridentino di Paolo Sarpi. Boris Ulianich. Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum, 31 (2, 1999), 367–426. Persecutors, Tempters and Vassals of the Devil: The Unregenerate in Puritan Practical Divinity. Frank Luttmer. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 ( Jan., 2000), 37–68. WIlliam Laud and the Exercise of Caroline Ecclesiastical Patronage. Kenneth Fincham. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 ( Jan., 2000), 69–93. La réforme spirituelle du clergé: L’Aa de Toulouse (1632–1870). Jean-Claude Meyer. Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique, CI (Apr.–June, 2000), 149–180. “The Popish Army of the North”: Anti-Catholicism and Parliamentarian Allegiance in Civil War Yorkshire, 1642–46.Andrew Hopper. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 12–28. François Combefis, Jacques Quétif et les Bollandistes. Huit lettres inédites des deux Dominicains. Bernard Joassart. Analecta Bollandiana, 118 (1–2, 2000), 147–179. La Chouette de Minerve au crépuscle, Philippe Le Noir de Crevain, pasteur sous Louis XIV, historien des Eglises réformées du XVIe siècle. Philip Benedict. Bulletin de la Société de l’Histoire du Protestantisme Français, 146 (Apr.–June, 2000), 335–365. Un procès en jansénisme? Le curé de Libourne (1656–1657). Christophe Blanquie. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 86 ( Jan.–June, 2000), 55–66. Prayer, Patronage, and Political Conspiracy: English Nuns and the Restoration. Claire Walker. Historical Journal, 43 (Mar., 2000), 1–23. “Les douces violences”: Dominique Dietrich et la politique religieuse de la monarchie à Strasbourg (1681–1694). Thierry Sarmant. Bulletin de la Société de l’Histoire du Protestantisme Français, 146 (Apr.–June, 2000), 367–389. Some Chaplains at the Stuart Court, Saint-Germain-en-Laye. Geoffrey Holt, S.J. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 43–51. From Religion to Politics: The Expression of Opinion as the Common Ground between Religious Liberty and Political Participation in the EighteenthCentury Conception of Natural Rights. Gregory Molivas. History of Political Thought, XXI (Summer, 2000), 237–260. El monasterio cisterciense de Nuestra Señora del Patrocinio. Rosa María Piquer Pomés. Studia Monastica, 42 (1, 2000), 157–183. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 745 D. Rodrigo de Moura Teles,Arcebispo de Braga, e a sua terceira visita “ad limina” (1723). António de Sousa Araújo. Itinerarium, XLVI ( Jan.–Apr., 2000), 117–154. Religious Dissenters in Enlightenment England.Phyllis Mack.History Workshop Journal, Issue 49 (Spring, 2000), 1–23. Du Saint-Espirit aux Missions Étrangères de Paris: Monseigneur Guillaume Piguel (1722–1771), vicaire apostolique de Cochinchine. Catherine Marin. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 11 (1, 2000), 12–29. Mons. Francesco Testa (1704–1773) e il “suo” Catechismo (1764). Un tentativo di inculturazione catechistica “ante litteram” nell’Arcidiocesi di Monreale. Luigi Accardo and Giuseppe Ruta. Itinerarium, 8 ( Jan.–Apr.; May–Aug., 2000), 59–82; 83–109. “Incompatible with the very name of Christian”: English Catholics and Unitarians in the Age of Milner. G. M. Ditchfield. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 52–73. Robert and James Alexander Haldane in Scotland: Evangelicals or Restorationists? Camille Dean. Restoration Quarterly, 42 (2, 2000), 99–111. Kunst als Manifestation des Unendlichen. Wackenroders “Herzensergißungen eines kunstliebenden Klosterbruders” (1796/97). Albrecht Beutel. Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche, 97 (2, 2000), 210–237. NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES The Travelogue of a Religious of Calvaire in Paris during Her Journey from 1798 to 1807, as Recorded in 1829. Saint-Maur Miel, O.S.B. Cistercian Studies Quarterly, 35 (3, 2000), 361–419. Hannah More and the Blagdon Controversy, 1799–1802. Anne Stott. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 (Apr., 2000), 319–346. Values in Collision: The Byzantine Tradition, Scholasticism, and the Birth of the Russian Intelligentsia. N.S. Racheotes. Canadian American Slavic Studies, 34 (Fall, 2000), 311–335. Église visible et église invisible. Les fragiles équilibres expérimentés par les églises protestantes de Polynésie française, 1815–1999. Jean-Marc Regnault. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 86 ( Jan.–June, 2000), 67–93. Una donna solidale nel cuore della cattolicità: Marie-Pauline Jaricot (1799–1862). Cecilia Giacovelli. Euntes Docete, LIII (1, 2000), 67–91. Re-making the Maori Female Body: Marianne Williams’s Mission in the Bay of Islands. Kathryn Rountree. Journal of Pacific History, XXXV ( June, 2000), 49–66. Libertà religiosa e principi di ugualianza. A proposito di una eredità contesa. Anna Grattarola. Bollettino del Museo del Risorgimento, XLIV–XLV (1999–2000), 163–176. Towards an English Catholic Social Conscience, 1829–1920. Bernard Aspinwall. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 106–119. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 746 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Antonio Rosmini e il risorgimento ecclesiale. Fulvio De Giorgi. Humanitas, LV (Feb., 2000), 23–39. Protestantesimo e stampa cattolica nel Risorgimento. L’“Armonia” e la polemica antiprotestante nel decennio preunitario. Paolo Cozzo. Rivista di Storia e Letteratura Religiosa, XXXVI (1, 2000), 77–113. Religiöse Symbolik und Programmatik in der Nationalbewegung des 19. Jahrhunderts im Spannungsfeld konfessioneller Gegensätze. Barbara Stambolis. Archiv für Kulturgeschichte, 82 (1, 2000), 157–189. From Ghetto to Ghetto: The Place of German Catholic Society in Recent Historiography. Oded Heilbronner. Journal of Modern History, 72 ( June, 2000), 453–495. Ruskin’s Influence on English Catholicism. J. Anthony Hilton. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 96–105. Two Catholic Slavophiles?: Ivan S. Gagarin and August von Haxthausen in Search of Church Reconciliation (1857–1860). Raymond T. McNally. Canadian American Slavic Studies, 34 (Fall, 2000), 251–309. The Cultural Impact of Science in France: Ernest Renan and the Vie de Jésus. Alan Pitt. Historical Journal, 43 (Mar., 2000), 79–101. Gladstone—Gehörte mit Lord Acton zum Döllinger-Kreis. Helmut Steinsdorfer. Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 90 (Apr.–June, 2000), 123–131. La “pazzia” di Gualterio e la cappella Nova nel Duomo di Orvieto. Stefania Magliani. Rassegna Storica del Risorgimento, LXXXVII ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 41–60. Le père Alexandre Le Roy, missionnaire au Zanguebar (1881–1892). Bernard Ducol. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 11 (1, 2000), 30–56. British Social Democracy and Religion,1881–1911.Graham Johnson.Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 ( Jan., 2000), 94–115. Le cardinal Lavigerie, le père Duparquet et les missions du Congo. Henry J. Koren and Henri Littner. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 11 (1, 2000), 73–85. Lisbon College: The Penultimate Chapter. Michael E. Williams. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 74–95. An Introduction to Don Rua’s Letters to England. John Dickson, S.D.B. Journal of Salesian Studies, XI (Spring, 2000), 63–81. L’implantation des spiritains au mont Kilimandjaro. Annie Lenoble-Bart. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 11 (1, 2000), 57–72. Baptisms, Marriages and Lithuanians; or, “Ghetto? What Ghetto?” Some Reflections on Modern Catholic Historical Assumptions. Bernard Aspinwall. Innes Review, LI (Spring, 2000), 55–67. The Re-Founding of Cîteaux and Dom J.-B. Chautard. GilChrist Lavigne, O.C.S.O. Cistercian Studies Quarterly, 35 (3, 2000), 327–334. The Interdependence of Vital Events: Twentieth-Century Indian Kerala. S. I. Rajan and K. S. James. Journal of Interdisciplinary History, XXXI (Summer, 2000), 21–41. Catholic and Anti-Catholic Traditions in Russia. Sergei Filatov and Lyudmila Vorontsova. Religion, State & Society, 28 (Mar., 2000), 69–84. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 747 Pio X, “La Civiltà Cattolica” e gli accordi clerico-moderati del 1904. Giovanni Sale, S.I. Civiltà Cattolica, 151, I (Mar. 18, 2000), 537–550. Il “caso Buonaiuti”: una vicenda che interpella ancora la Chiesa. Giovanni Sale, S. I. Civiltà Cattolica, 151, II (Apr. 15, 2000), 125–138. Public Opinion and the 1908 Eucharistic Congress. Thomas Horwood. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 120–132. Les Soeurs de Saint-Joseph de Cluny à la mission de la Sainte-Famille de Bessou (Ndjoukou actuel) en Centrafrique, 1911–1920. Flora Sambia. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 11 (1, 2000), 88–107. Georges Florovsky and M.O.Gershenzon: Metaphysical Philosophers of Russian History. Brian Horowitz. Canadian American Slavic Studies, 34 (Fall, 2000), 365–374. Aux origines de la JOC française: le temps de la conquête (1927–1943). Gérard Cholvy. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 95 ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 107–135. Les Soeurs spiritaines de Mbaïki (Centrafrique) et l’évolution de la femme en Lobaye (1931–1958). Marie-Ange Kallanda. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 11 (1, 2000), 108–128. Schuld und Verantwortung. Die Auseinandersetzung des Heidelberger Theologen Martin Dibelius mit dem Dritten Reich. Matthias Wolfes. Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 111 (2, 2000), 185–209. Edith Stein: Balance bibliográfico. Jesús García Rojo. Estudios Eclesiásticos, 75 ( Jan.–Mar., 2000), 101–127. Christian Conservatives and the Totalitarian Challenge, 1933–40. Philip Williamson. English Historical Review, CXV ( June, 2000), 607–642. Bishop Moriarty, Shrewsbury and World War Two. John Davies. Recusant History, 25 (May, 2000), 133–158. Co-operation of European Catholic Politicians in Exile in Britain and the USA during the Second World War. Wolfram Kaiser. Journal of Contemporary History, 35 ( July, 2000), 439–465. Catholic Higher Education in Poland, 1948–1956. Leszek Zygner. Czasy Nowozytne, Modern Times, I (2000), 85–97. Political Repression of the Catholic Episcopate during the Period of Stalinism in Poland. Ryszard Gryz. Czasy Nowozytne, Modern Times, I (2000), 99–125. Maritain, Paul VI et l’Église du Concile. René Mougel. Istituto Paolo VI, Notiziario No. 39 (2000), 82–100. AMERICAN AND CANADIAN Ahijados: The Right of Communion and Mission Status on the Northern Frontier in the Seventeenth Century. Jake Ivey. Catholic Southwest, 11 (2000), 7–26. Women, Kin, and Catholicism: New Perspectives on the Fur Trade. Susan Sleeper-Smith. Ethnohistory, 47 (Spring, 2000), 423–452. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 748 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 PERIODICAL LITERATURE The Public Role of Baptists in Colonial America. Edwin S. Gaustad. Review & Expositor, 97 (Winter, 2000), 11–20. “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God”: Some Unfinished Business. Edward J. Gallagher. New England Quarterly, LXXIII ( June, 2000), 202–221. Feeling the Force of Certainty: The Divine Science, Newtonianism, and Jonathan Edwards’s “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” Christopher Lukasik. New England Quarterly, LXXIII ( June, 2000), 222–245. Mysticisme et piétisme-évangélique en Nouvelle Angleterre au XVIIIe siècle: deux expériences féminines. Lucia Bergamasco. Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses, 80 (Apr.–June, 2000), 221–245. A Letter by Pastor Johann Martin Boltzius about Bethesda and Marital Irregularities in Savannah. George Fenwick Jones. Georgia Historical Quarterly, LXXXIV (Summer, 2000), 283–294. Benjamin Franklin: Champion of Generic Religion. David T. Morgan. The Historian, 62 (Summer, 2000), 723–729. Making the Most of an Opportunity: Slaves and the Catholic Church in Early Washington. Mary Beth Corrigan. Washington History, 12 (Spring/Summer, 2000), 90–101. American Diocesan Boundaries in the Southwest, 1840–1912. Nancy Hanks. Catholic Southwest, 11 (2000), 27–43. Nativism and the End of the Mass Migration of the 1840s and 1850s. Raymond L. Cohn. Journal of Economic History, 60 ( June, 2000), 361–383. “The Most Important Biblical Discovery of Our Time”: William Henry Green and the Demise of Ussher’s Chronology. Ronald L. Numbers. Church History, 69 ( June, 2000), 257–276. The Work and Well-Being of Women in American Social Christianity: The Case of Henry Codman Potter (1835–1908). Michael Bourgeois. Union Seminary Quarterly Review, 53 (3–4, 1999), 125–151. A Window Through Time on the San Antonio Missions. Santiago Escobedo. Catholic Southwest, 11 (2000), 45–76. Helen Hunt Jackson and Southern California’s Mission Indians. Valerie Sherer Mathes. California History, LXXVIII (Winter, 1999/2000), 262–273. More than a Prophet [Walter Rauschenbusch]. Heinz D. Rossol. American Baptist Quarterly, XVIX ( June, 2000), 129–153. Full of Fair Hope: The Beginnings of a Benedictine Mission in Minnesota. Owen Lindblad, O.S.B. American Benedictine Review, 51 ( June, 2000), 198–212. Southern Baptist Evangelicals or Social Gospel Liberals? The Woman’s Missionary Union and Social Reform, 1888–1928. Betsy Flowers. American Baptist Quarterly, XVIX ( June, 2000), 106–128. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 749 Rabbi Samuel Freuder as a Christian Missionary: American Protestant Premillennialism and an Apostate Returner, 1891–1924. Dana Evan Kaplan. American Jewish Archives Journal, L (1–2, 1998), 41–74. The Black Social Gospel in Chicago, 1896–1906: The Ministries of Reverdy C. Ransom and Richard R. Wright, Jr. Terrell Dale Goddard. Journal of Negro History, LXXXIV (Summer, 1999), 227–246. “The Zeal of the Salesians is Just the Thing”: Founding of the Salesian Work in New York. Michael Mendl, S.D.B. Journal of Salesian Studies, XI (Spring, 2000), 83–154. The Southern Messenger and the Approach of War. James T. Moore. Catholic Southwest, 11 (2000), 77–87. El teólogo John Courtney Murray, S.J., en el contexto de la sociedad y la Iglesia norteamericana del siglo XX. Julio Luis Martínez. Estudios Eclesiásticos, 75 ( July–Sept., 2000), 369–419. Ideas and Ideals: The American Benedictine Academy, 1948–1998. Alberta Dieker, O.S.B. American Benedictine Review, 51 ( June, 2000), 169–197. LATIN AMERICAN A proposito del dialogo Evangelizzazione-Culture indigene nell’America latina (1492–1825). Testimonianze di alcuni missionari. Luis Martínez Ferrer. Annales Theologici, 13 (2, 1999), 517–539. La Virgen de Guadalupe y Juan Diego protagonistas en la conversión del reino de la nueva España. Eutimio Sastre Santos. Euntes Docete, LIII, (1, 2000), 151–180. El catecismo guarani de fray Luis Bolaños. José Luis Salas Lizaur, O.F.M. Archivo Ibero-Americano, 60 ( Jan.–Apr., 2000), 87–106. A pátria do Anticristo: A expulsão dos jesuitas do Maranhão e Grão-Pará e o messianismo milenarista do Padre Vieira. Geraldo Mártires Coelho. LusoBrazilian Review, 37 (Summer, 2000), 17–32. Congados, Calunga, Candombe: Our Lady of the Rosary in Minas Gerais, Brazil. Elizabeth W. Kiddy. Luso-Brazilian Review, 37 (Summer, 2000), 47–61. “Comian de la mesa del señor”: El espíritu de pobreza en el monasterio de las monjas capuchinas de Buenos Aires (1749–1810).Alicia Fraschina.Archivo Ibero-Americano, 60 ( Jan.–Apr., 2000), 69–86. Crypto-Protestants and Pseudo-Catholics in the Nineteenth-Century Hispanic Caribbean. Luís Martínez-Fernández. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 (Apr., 2000), 347–365. La Iglesia y el Estado en Ecuador y Perú hacia 1898. Santiago Castillo Illingworth. Annales Theologici, 13 (2, 1999), 415–451. La reforma faltante. Perón, la Iglesia y la Santa Sede en la reforma constitucional de 1949.Loris Zanatta.Boletin del Instituto de Historia Argentina y Americana, Dr. Emilio Ravignani, No. 20, 3rd series (2, 1999), 111–130. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Allmand, Christopher (Ed.). The New Cambridge Medieval History: Volume VII: c.1415-c. 1500). (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1998. Pp. xxi, 1048. $95.00.) Archivi audiovisivi europei: un secolo di storia operaia. Convegno internazionale e rassegna di film inediti a cura dell Archivio audiovisivo del movimento operaio e democratico, Roma, 20-21 novembre 1998. [Pubblicazioni degli Archivi di Stato, saggi 56.] (Rome: Ministero per i beni e le attività culturali, Ufficio centrale per i beni archivistici. 2000. Pp. 292. Paperback.) Bilaniuk, Petro B. T. Studies in Eastern Christianity: Volume Five. [Ukrainian Free University Series: Monographs, No. 25.] (Munich: Ukrainian Free University. Distributed by the author, Toronto, Ont. 1998. Pp. viii, 193. Paperback.) Bloomfield, Maxwell. Peaceful Revolution: Constitutional Change and American Culture from Progressivism to the New Deal. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. 2000. Pp. xiii, 209. $35.00.) Blum, Owen J., O.F.M. (Trans.). Peter Damian: Letters 91-120. [The Fathers of the Church: Mediaeval Continuation, Vol. 5.] (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press. 1998. Pp. xxii, 418. $42.95.) Boeglin, Jean-Georges. La question de la Tradition dans la théologie catholique contemporaine. [Théologie et sciences religieuses, Cogitatio Fidei, 205.] (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf. 1998. Pp. 472. 250 F paperback.) Boyd, Malcolm. Running with Jesus:The Prayers of Malcolm Boyd. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress Publishers. 2000. Pp. xxii, 118. $15.99 paper over board.) Bryan, Christopher. A Preface to Romans: Notes on the Epistle in Its Literary and Cultural Setting. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2000. Pp. xviii, 278. $49.95.) Cahill,Lisa Sowle.Family:A Christian Social Perspective.(Minneapolis:Fortress Press. 2000. Pp. xiv, 170. $17.00 paperback.) Carruthers, Mary. The Craft of Thought: Meditation, Rhetoric, and the Making of Images, 400-1200. [Cambridge Studies in Medieval Literature.] (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1998. Pp. xvii, 399.) 750 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED 751 Cheney, C. R. (Ed.). A Handbook of Dates: For Students of British History. New Edition. Revised by Michael Jones. [Royal Historical Society Guides and Handbooks, No. 4.] (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2000. Pp. xvii, 246. $57.95 hardback; $21.95 paperback.) First published in 1945. Some of the chapter titles are “List of Popes,”“Saints’ Days and Festivals Used in Dating,”“Celtic and Roman (Alexandrian) Easter Days, AD 400-768,”“Calendars for All Possible Dates of Easter,AD 400-2100,”“Easter Days according to the Old Style, AD 400-1752,”“Easter Days according to the New Style, AD 15832100,” and “Dates of Adoption of the Gregorian Calendar in Europe.” Culligan, Kevin, O.C.D., and Regis Jordan, O.C.D. (Eds.). Carmel and Contemplation: Transforming Human Consciousness. [Carmelite Studies, VIII.] (Washington, DC: ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies. 2000. Pp. xix, 361. $14.95 paperback.) Donaldson,Terence L.(Ed.).Religious Rivalries and the Struggle for Success in Caesarea Maritima. [Studies in Christianity and Judaism, Number 8.] (Waterloo, Ont.: Wilfrid Laurier University Press. Published for the Canadian Corporation for Studies in Religion. 2000. Pp. xiv, 398. $29.95 paperback.) Fanger, Claire (Ed.). Conjuring Spirits:Texts and Traditions of Medieval Ritual Magic. [The Magic in History Series.] (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press. 1998. Pp. xx, 284. $60.00 cloth; $19.95 paperback.) Freiberg, Jack. The Lateran in 1600: Christian Concord in Counter-Reformation Rome. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1995. Pp. xvi, 333, 8 color plates. $75.00.) Friedland, Michael B. Lift Up Your Voice Like a Trumpet:White Clergy and the Civil Rights and Antiwar Movements, 1954-1973. (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press. 1998. Pp. x, 326. $49.95 hardcover; $18.95 paperback.) Fuller, Robert C. Stairways to Heaven: Drugs in American Religious History. (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press. 2000. Pp. ix, 237. $27.50.) Gill, Anthony. Rendering unto Caesar: The Catholic Church and the State in Latin America. (Chicago: the University of Chicago Press. 1998. Pp. xiii, 269. $41.00 cloth; $15.95 paperback.) Gillingham, John. Richard I. [Yale English Monarchs Series.] (New Haven: Yale University Press. 1999. Pp. xiv, 378. $30.00.) Gilmont, Jean-François (Ed.). The Reformation and the Book. Trans. Karin Maag. [St. Andrews Studies in Reformation History.] (Brookfield, Vt.: Ashgate. 1998. Pp. xxii, 498. $127.95.) First published as La Réforme et le livre: L’Europe de l’imprimé (1517-v.1570) edited by Jean François Gilmont. Goffen, Rona (Ed.). Masaccio’s Trinity. [Masterpieces of Western Painting.] (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1998. Pp. x, 166. $49.95 hardback; $15.95 paperback.) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 752 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Guasco, Maurilio, Alberto Monticone, and Pietro Stella (Eds.). Fede e libertà: Scritti in onore di p.Giacomo Martina, S.J. (Brescia:Morcelliana.1998.Pp. 676. Lire 50,000 paperback.) Table of contents: XVII-XVIII Secolo:“La predicazione popolare e riformistica di Giacinto Natta da Casale Monferrato (†1627)” by Costanzo Cargnioni ( pp. 21-57),“La historia de la fundación del Real y Pontificio Colegio Seminario de México” by Eduardo Chávez Sánchez ( pp. 59-117),“Precedentes, fundación y actualidad de la Facultad de Historia Eclesiástica de la Universidad Gregoriana” by Josep M. Benítez i Riera ( pp. 119-134), “Antonio Codronchi e il suo tempo (Arcivescovo di Ravenna dal 1785 al 1826)” by Maurizio Tagliaferri ( pp. 135-162); XIX Secolo: “Alessandro I di Russia, Frédéric-César de la Harpe e i gesuiti”by Marek Inglot ( pp. 165-192), “Libertà della chiesa e regalismo nella protesta dei vescovi siciliani del 1808” by Francesco Michele Stabile ( pp. 193-218),“Il Card. Filippo De Angelis e il Sinodo Fermano del 1845” by Paolo Petruzzi ( pp. 219-254), “Enrichetta Caracciolo di Forino e i misteri del chiostro napoletano” by Ugo Dovere ( pp. 255-276), “Exequatur e nomine dei Vescovi in Italia nel secondo Ottocento: il caso Rota” by Angelo Manfredi ( pp.277-302),“Pius IX and the Reform of Religious Life:An Irish Franciscan Response, 1852-1854” by Maurice Carmody ( pp. 303-323),“Gli istituti esclusivamente missionari sotto Propaganda Fide” by Fidel González-Fernández ( pp. 325-350),“General Division of the Indian Missions into Vicariates Apostolic: Luquet’s Role and Subsequent Controversies” by Thomas Anchukandam ( pp. 351-367),“Contemplazione e azione in Sardegna tra ‘800 e ‘900” by Tonino Cabizzosu ( pp. 369-382),“La redazione e la recezione dell’Enciclica ‘Nobilissima Gallorum Gens’ (1884)” by Livio Rota ( pp. 383398), “Il protettorato francese in Cina (XIX-XX sec.)” by Luciano Morra ( pp. 399-419); XX Secolo: “La ricerca e la disciplina” by Annibale Zambarbieri ( pp. 423-481),“Luigi Sturzo e i papi suoi contemporanei” by Michele Pennisi ( pp. 483-495), “L’episcopato, Sturzo e Gentiloni nelle elezioni politiche in Sicilia: 1905-1912” by Gaetano Zito ( pp. 497-527), “L’elaborazione dell’Articolo 7° della Costituzione alla prima sottocommissione dell’assemblea costituente” by Gianni Carzaniga ( pp. 529-544),“American Catholic Seminaries — Three Decades of Change” by Robert J. Wister ( pp. 545-561), “Il cardinale Alfredo Ildefonso Schuster e il suo seminario” by Ennio Apeciti ( pp. 563-608), “Novam sedem Metropolitanam Hamburgensem appellandam condere — Zur Errichtung von Erzbistum und Kirchenprovinz Hamburg (1992-95)” by Georges Hellinghausen ( pp. 609629), “Bibliografia del P. Giacomo Martina, S.J. (1945-1998)” edited by Simona Negruzzo ( pp. 631-668). Guibbory, Achsah. Ceremony and Community from Herbert to Milton: Literature, Religion and Cultural Conflict in Seventeenth-Century England. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1998. Pp. xiii, 275. $59.95.) Hardman, Malcolm. A Kingdom in Two Parishes: Lancashire Religious Writers and the English Monarchy, 1521-1689. (Cranbury, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickin- OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED 753 son University Press; London: Associated University Presses. 1998. Pp. 364. $55.00.) Ideologie e patrimonio storico-culturale nell’età rivoluzionaria e napoleonica:A proposito del trattato di Tolentino.Atti del convegno, Tolentino, 1821 settembre 1997. [Pubblicazioni degli Archivi di Stato, saggi 55.] (Rome: Ministero per i beni e le attività culturali, Ufficio centrale per i beni archivistici. 2000. Pp. xi, 654. Paperback.) Among the papers presented at the conference that are published here are “San Napoleone e le reliquie napoleoniche nelle collezioni Demidoff” by Raffaele Argenziano ( pp. 143162),“El Monasterio de el Escorial y la guerra de la independencia” by Fernando Checa Cremades ( pp. 321-337), “L’evoluzione della collezione vaticana di antichità tra il trattato di Tolentino e il congresso di Vienna” by Paolo Liverani ( pp. 339-354),“Le tre asportazioni francesi di manoscritti e incunaboli vaticani (1797-1813)” by Christine Maria Grafinger ( pp. 403413),“La requisizione di ori, argenti e gioie a Roma e nello Stato pontificio. Un’occa-sione commerciale?” by Marina Morena ( pp. 445-456),“Il ritorno dei beni culturali dalla Francia nello Stato pontificio e l’inizio della politica culturale della Restaurazione nei documenti camerali dell’Archivio di Stato di Roma” by Donato Tamblé ( pp. 457-513),“Legislazione di tutela e iniziative di salvaguardia del patrimonio artistico romano all’indomani del congresso di Vienna, attraverso le carte della Polizia pontificia” by Elvira Grantaliano ( pp. 633-647). Jelsma, Auke. Frontiers of the Reformation: Dissidence and Orthodoxy in Sixteenth-Century Europe. [St Andrews Studies in Reformation History.] (Brookfield,Vt.: Ashgate. 1998. Pp. xii, 192. $76.95.) Keck, David. Angels & Angelology in the Middle Ages. (New York: Oxford University Press. 1998. Pp. x, 260. $45.00.) Kienzle, Beverly Mayne, and Pamela J. Walker (Eds.). Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity. (Berkeley: University of California Press. 1998. Pp. xxii, 362. $50.00 clothbound; $17.95 paperback.) Kroeger, James H., M.M. Asia—Church in Mission: Exploring Ad Gentes Mission Initiatives of the Local Churches in Asia in the Vatican II Era. (Manila: Claretian Publications. Distributed in North America by the Maryknoll Seminary Book Store, c/o Isabel Tomlinson, Maryknoll, NY 10545. 1999. Pp. viii, 139. $5.00 paperback.) Langan, Thomas. The Catholic Tradition. (Columbia: University of Missouri Press. 1998. Pp. vii, 535. $34.95.) Linage Conde, Antonio. Biobibliografía. Segunda edición. (Alcalá la Real: Excelentísimo Ayuntamiento, Centro de Estudios Históricos “Carmen Juan Lovera,” Instituto de Historia Eclesiástica y de las Religiones “Antonio Linage.” 2000. Pp. 140. Paperback.) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 754 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Lonergan, Bernard. Grace and Freedom: Operative Grace in the Thought of St. Thomas Aquinas. Eds. Frederick E. Crowe and Robert M. Doran. [Collected Works of Bernard Lonergan, Vol. 1.] (Buffalo: University of Toronto. Published for Lonergan Research Institute of Regis College, Toronto. 2000. Pp. xxiii, 513. $80.00 cloth; $24.95 paperack.) MacDonald, Alan R. The Jacobean Kirk, 1567-1625: Sovereignty, Polity and Liturgy. [St Andrews Studies in Reformation History.] (Brookfield,Vt.: Ashgate. 1998. Pp. xvi, 217. $83.95.) Madden, David (Ed.). Beyond the Battlefield:The Ordinary Life and Extraordinary Times of the Civil War Soldier. (New York: Simon and Schuster. A Touchstone Book. 2000. Pp. 300. $16.00 paperback.) Massey,Sara R.(Ed.).Black Cowboys of Texas.(College Station:Texas A & M University Press. 2000. Pp. xix, 361. $29.95.) Matheson, Peter. The Rhetoric of the Reformation. (Edinburgh: T & T Clark. 1998. Pp. x, 267. £23.95.) McGrath, Alister E. Historical Theology: An Introduction to the History of Christian Thought.(Malden,Mass.:Blackwell Publishers.1998.Pp.xiv,388. $29.95 paperback.) McNamara, Robert F. The Diocese of Rochester in America, 1868-1993. Second Edition, Emended and Updated. (Rochester, N.Y.: The Roman Catholic Diocese of Rochester, New York. 1998. Pp. xxi, 683. $30.00.) The first edition was reviewed by Robert Trisco, LVII (April, 1972), 137-138. Father McNamara has added a new chapter chronicling the episcopates of Fulton J. Sheen, Joseph L. Hogan, and Matthew H. Clark. Moreschini, Claudio, and Enrico Norelli (Eds.). Histoire de la littérature chrétienne antique grecque et latine: I. De Paul à l’ère de Constantin. Trans. Madeleine Rousset.(Geneva:Labor et Fides.2000.Pp.510.68 FS/ 270 FF paperback.) Originally published in Italian under the title Storia della letteratura cristiana antica greca e latina by Morcelliana in 1995. Muldoon, James. Canon Law, the Expansion of Europe, and World Order. [Variorum Collected Studies Series.] (Brookfield, Vt.: Ashgate, Variorum. 1998. Pp. x, 300. $89.95.) O’Connor, Thomas H. Boston Catholics: A History of the Church and Its People. (Boston: Northeastern University Press. 2000. Pp. xvi, 357. $16.95 paper.) Originally published in 1998 and reviewed by Vincent A. Lapomarda, S.J., ante, LXXXV (October, 1999), 654-656. Owen, Christopher H. The Sacred Flame of Love: Methodism and Society in Nineteenth-Century Georgia. (Athens: The University of Georgia Press. 1998. Pp. xxi, 290. $50.00.) OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED 755 Perna, Massimo (Ed.). Administrative Documents in the Aegean and Their Near Eastern Counterparts. Proceedings of the International Colloquium: Naples, February 29–March 2, 1996. [Pubblicazioni degli Archivi di Stato, Centro Internazionale di Richerche Archeologiche, Antropologiche e Storiche, III.] (Rome: Ministero per i beni e le attività culturali, Ufficio centrale per i beni archivistici. 2000. Pp. 436. Paperback.) Pettegrew, John (Ed.). A Pragmatist’s Progress? Richard Rorty and American Intellectual History. [American Intellectual Culture.] (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc. 2000. Pp. vii, 222. $60.00 cloth; $24.95 paperback.) Ranft, Patricia. Women and the Religious Life in Premodern Europe. (New York: St. Martin’s Press. 1998. Pp. xvi, 159. $17.95 paperback.) Originally published in 1996 and reviewed by Jo Ann Kay McNamara ante, LXXXIII (April, 1997), 298-299. Rebillard, Éric, and Claire Sotinel (Eds.). L’êvêque dans la cité du IVeau Ve siècle: Image et autorité. Actes de la table ronde organisée par l’Istituto patristico Augustinianum et l’École française de Rome (Rome, 1er et 2 décembre 1995). [Collection de l’École française de Rome, 248.] (Rome: École française de Rome. 1998. Pp. iv, 167. Paperback.) Redekop, Calvin W. Anabaptism: From Evangelical Mennonite Brethren to Fellowship of Evangelical Bible Churches. (Telford, Pa.: Pandora Press U.S.; Scottdale, Pa.: Herald Press. 1998. Pp. 267. Paperback.) Roets, Perry J., S.J. Pillars of Catholic Social Teachings: A Brief Social Catechism. (Lanham, Md.: International Scholars Publications. 1999. Pp. xii, 119. $25.50 paperback.) Rotelle, John E., O.S.A. (Ed.). The Works of Saint Augustine:A Translation for the 21st Century: Expositions of the Psalms, 1-32. Trans. Maria Boulding, O.S.B. [Augustinian Heritage Institute, Inc., Part III—Books, Volume 15.] (Hyde Park, N.Y.: New City Press. 2000. Pp. 462. $39.00 cloth; $24.95 paperback.) Russello, Gerald J. (Ed.). Christianity and European culture: Selections from the Work of Christopher Dawson. (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press. 1998. Pp. xxxiii, 262. Paperback.) Sagovsky, Nicholas. Ecumenism, Christian Origins and the Practice of Communion. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2000. Pp. x, 221. $59.95.) Sensbach, Jon F. A Separate Canaan: The Making of an Afro-Moravian World in North Carolina, 1763-1840. (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press. Published for the Omohundro Institute of Early American History and Culture, Williamsburg, Virginia. 1998. Pp. xxvi, 342. $45.00 hardcover; $17.95 paperback.) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 756 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Slusser, Michael (Trans.). St. Gregory Thaumaturgus: Life and Works. [The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation, Vol. 98.] (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press. 1998. Pp. xx, 199. $29.95.) Spencer, Mark. Thomas Basin (1412-1490): The History of Charles VII and Louis XI. [Bibliotheca Humanistica & Reformatorica, Vol. LVII.] (Nieuwkoop, Neth.: De Graaf Publishers. 1997. Pp. 326. 120 f.) Stocker, Karen.“No somos nada: Ethnicity and Three Dominant and Contradictory Indigenist Discourses in Costa Rica.” [Research Paper Series No. 35, June 2000.] (Albuquerque: Latin American and Iberian Institute; University of New Mexico. 2000. Pp. iii, 25. Paperback.) Swift, Donald C. Religion and the American Experience:A Social and Cultural History, 1765-1997. (Armonk, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe. 1998. Pp. xv, 307. $66.95 hardcover; $25.95 paperback.) Tanner, Norman. Conciles et synodes. Trans. Claire Forestier-Pergnier. [Histoire du christianisme.] (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf. 2000. Pp. 168. 130 F paperback.) Originally published as Councils and Synods. Tavard, Georges. La Vierge Marie en France aux XVIIIe et XIXe siècles: Essai d’interprétation. [Histoire.] (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf. 1998. Pp. 171. 150 F paperback.) Templeton, John. Possibilities for over One Hundredfold More Spiritual Information: The Humble Approach in Theology and Science. (Philadelphia: Templeton Foundation Press. 2000. Pp. viii, 216. Paperback.) Tergel,Alf. Human Rights in Cultural and Religious Traditions. [Uppsala Studies in Faiths and Ideologies, 8.] (Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. 1998. Pp. 395. Paperback.) Thiébaux, Marcelle (Ed. and Trans.). Dhuoda, Handbook for her Warrior Son: Liber Manualis. [Cambridge Medieval Classics, 8.] (New York: Cambridge University Press. 1998. Pp. ix, 276. $74.95.) Trudgian, Raymond Francis. Francis Tregian, 1548-1608: Elizabethan Recusant, a Truly Catholic Cornishman. (Brighton, England: The Alpha Press. Distributed in the U.S. by ISBS, Portland, Ore. 1998. Pp. vi, 50. $14.95 cloth; $9.95 paperback.) Vanderwood, Paul J. The Power of God against the Guns of Government: Religious Upheaval in Mexico at the Turn of the Nineteenth Century. (Stanford: Stanford University Press. 1998. Pp. xi, 409. $65.00 cloth; $24.95 paperback.) Wabuda, Susan, and Caroline Litzenberger (Eds.). Belief and Practice in Reformation England: A Tribute to Patrick Collinson from His Students. [St Andrews Studies in Reformation History.] (Brookfield, Vt.: Ashgate. 1998. Pp. xiv, 293. $84.95.)