The Catholic Historical
Review
VOL. XCI

JULY, 2005

No. 3

THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS
IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD
BY

SATOSHI TADA*

According to Sidonius Apollinaris,Anianus was the bishop of Orléans
and the defender of the city against the attack of the Huns under Attila
in 451.1 This paper will examine the process of the development of Anianus’s cult in the Carolingian period. Who evolved the cult? How did
they do so? Many scholars have referred to the deeds of Anianus and the
history of Saint-Aignan, the focal point of his cult in Orléans.2 In the
*Mr. Tada is an associate professor of European history in Chukyo University, Toyota,
Japan. Some of the ideas exhibited in this article appeared in his Japanese paper titled
“The Cult of St Aignan in the First Millennium,” Chukyo University Bulletin of the Faculty of Liberal Arts, 42 (2001), 331–372. However, this article is directly based on the
paper read at the University of Korea, Seoul, on August 29, 2003, during the Fifth KoreanJapan Symposium on the Medieval History of Europe. He is grateful to the Japan Society
for the Promotion of Science, whose FY2003 Grant-in-Aid for Scientific Research (Scientific Research [B] [1] “Pilgrimage and Popular Belief in the Pan-Mediterranean World” led
by Professor Tetsuyuki Seki) supports this study.
1
Sidonius Apollinaris, Letter to Prosper of Orléans, ed. Christian Lütjohann in Monumenta Germaniae Historica, (hereafter cited as MGH ), Auctores antiquissimi, Vol. VIII:
Apollinaris Sidonii epistulae et carmina (Berlin, 1887; repr. 1961), p. 147, liber 8, c. 15.
2
Robert Hubert, Antiquitez historiques de l’église royale Saint-Aignan d’Orléans (Orléans, 1661); Symphorien Guyon, Histoire de l’église et diocèse: Ville et université d’Orléans (4 vols.; Paris, 1647–1650); C. F.Vergnaud-Romagnési, Histoire de la ville d’Orléans
(Orléans, 1830; repr. [n.p.], 1996); Jean-Baptiste Charles Patron, Département du Loiret:
Dictionnaire des communes (2 vols.; Paris, 1991); Eugène Bimbenet, Histoire de la ville
d’Orléans (5 vols.;Orléans,1884–1888;repr.Brussels,1976);René Crozet,Histoire de l’Orléanais (Paris, 1936); Louis d’Illiers, Histoire de’Orléans racontée par un Orléanais, 2nd
edn. (Orléans, 1954; repr. Marseilles, 1986); Jean de Viguerie (ed.) Histoire religieuse d’Orléanais (Chambray-lès-Tours, 1983); Louis Gaillard and Jacques Debal, Les lieux de culte
à Orléans de l’Antiquité au XXe siècle (Orléans, 1987), pp. 17–18.

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

view of modern scholarship, however, Geneviève Renaud has made
great progress in studying the cult of Anianus. She has completed the
list of the hagiographical texts on Anianus and their manuscripts, and
has dated each composition. Moreover, she has located the trace of his
cult and concluded that it spread all over modern France, especially in
the former dioceses of Orléans, Bourges, and Chartres, and his legend
had achieved its full development before the end of tenth century or at
the latest by the beginning of the eleventh century. However, she has
hardly stated the concrete situations behind the process of its development. 3
Recently, Thomas Head has studied the cult of Anianus in his systematic research on the cult of saints in the Orléanais though he seems
to be more concerned about monastic saints than episcopal ones like
Anianus. He enumerates the promoters of Anianus’s cult. The shrine of
Anianus was “apparently under the control of the Gallo-Romans” in the
times of Gregory of Tours. Queen Balthild “supported the reform of
the house of Saint-Aignan” in the seventh century.4 “The Robertians directly controlled the monastery of Saint-Aignan throughout the tenth
century.”5 Then, who were the promoters in the eighth and the ninth
centuries?
This paper will contribute to fill the gap of the previous scholarship,
as mentioned above, and then will examine how the cult of Anianus
was evolved in the Carolingian period.

St. Anianus had already gained a reputation by the seventh century,
but his cult experienced great progress in the Carolingian period.Charle3
Geneviève Renaud,“Les traditions de l’Eglise d’Orléans sur ses saints évêques Euverte
et Aignan: Vies, miracles, culte,” Annuaire de l’école pratique des hautes études, 4th section (1972–1973), pp. 745–752; eadem,“Les miracles de saint Aignan d’Orléans, XIe siècle,” Analecta Bollandiana, 94 (1976), 253; eadem,“Saint Aignan et sa légende, les ‘vies’
et les ‘miracles,’”Bulletin de la Société Archéologique et Historique de l’Orléanais (hereafter cited as BSAHO), n.s. 49 (1978),83–109; eadem, “Saint Aignan d’Orléans a-t-il été
vénéré hors de France?” BSAHO, n.s. 49 (1978), 110–113; eadem,“La dévotion à saint Aignan: Liturgie et toponymie,” BSAHO, n.s. 51 (1980), 17–32. Also see Jacques Charles,“Le
culte de saint Aignan hors du diocèse d’Orléans,” BSAHO, n.s. 16 (1962), 254–255.
4
Thomas Head,Hagiography and the Cult of Saints:The Diocese of Orléans, 800–1200
(Cambridge, 1990), p. 283. See below n. 40.
5
Ibid., p. 57. In the early Capetian period, the cult of Anianus went on to the next stage.
Robert II the Pious sponsored the reconstruction of the shrine of Saint-Aignan and attended the consecration on June 14, 1029.

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425

magne and Bishop Theodulf of Orléans seem to have refurbished and
extended the shrine of Saint-Aignan.6 Such behavior did not merely
mean material re-foundation but contributed to the veneration for saints
because shrines were thought of as the extension of their coffins.Theodulf devoted himself to prayers on the altar dedicated to the saint.7 In
814 and 818, Louis the Pious visited Saint-Aignan and asked the saint for
his own protection.8 The emperor’s visits must have heightened the
saint’s reputation.Sometime in the first half of the ninth century,canons
of the cathedral chapter wrote the First Life of St. Evurtius and Second
Life of St. Evurtius.9 The author of the latter called himself Subdeacon
Lucifer. These lives admire the deeds of Anianus alongside of Evurtius,
the fourth-century bishop of Orléans.
In 854,Bishop Agius of Orléans gave Saint-Aignan permission to build
a new churchyard in the east suburbs of the city.10 This new cemetery
could accommodate the gradually increasing people who wished to get
to eternal rest with Anianus. Around 870, Bishop Walter instructed his
priests to observe the feast of Anianus as well as those of other saints.
[The priests] should observe the celebrated feasts of the saints with solemn
cult and should know them beforehand to let people observe them:That is the
natal day of the Lord, [the feasts] of Blessed Stephen, of St. John the Evangelist,
of the Innocents, the octave of the Lord, the Epiphany, the nativity of Holy
Mary,the purification of Holy Mary,the Assumption of Holy Mary,Holy Saturday,
the octave of Easter,the Rogation Days,the Ascension of the Lord,Pentecost,[the
feasts] of St. John the Baptist, of St. Peter, of St. Paul, of St. Martin, and of St. Andrew, as well as [the feasts] of our fathers, by whose pious local patronage we
6
Edmond Sejourné, Les reliques de saint Aignan, évêque d’Orléans: Histoire et authenticité d’après les documents originaux et inédits (Orléans, 1905), p. 14; Jacques
Debal,“Sous les Carolingiens: Renaissance et invasions,” in Jacques Debal (ed.), Histoire
d’Orléans et de son terroir, I: Des origines à la fin du XVIe siècle (Roanne, 1983), pp.
225–226;Michel de La Fournière,“Histoire de l’Ile Charlemagne à Orléans,”BSAHO,n.s.71
(1985), 31–37.
7
Theodulf of Orléans, Carmina, in MGH, Poetae, Vol. I: Poetae latini aevi Carolini, I,
ed. Ernst Dümmler (Berlin, 1881; repr. 1978), p. 556, LXV.
8
Ermold the Black, Poème sur Louis le Pieux et épîtres au roi Pépin, ed. and trans. Edmond Faral, 2nd edn. (Paris, 1964), p. 62, line 791; p. 118, lines 1536–1539.
9
Vita sancti Evurtii episcope [Aurelianensis] (BHL 2800),ed.Bollandists,in Catalogus
codicum hagiographicorum latinorum antiquiorum saeculo XVI qui asservantur in
bibliotheca nationali Parisiensi (Brussels, 1890) (hereafter cited First Life of St. Evurtius), pp. 312–319; Lucifer of Orléans, Vita fabulis fœdata s. Evurtii (BHL 2799), ed.
Joannes Stiltingus, in Joannes Stiltingus et al. (eds.), Acta Sanctorum, Sept. III ([Antwerp],
[1750]; repr. Paris, 1868) (hereafter cited Second Life of St. Evurtius), pp. 52–59.
10
Agius of Orléans,Diploma,ed.Remi Boucher de Molandon,in Mémoires de la Société
Archéologique et Historique de l’Orléanais, 11 (1868), 483–486.

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

are assisted in the presence of the Lord, [that is] of the death of Blessed Evurtius, of the death of Blessed Anianus, of Blessed Benedict, of Blessed Maximinus,similarly of the death of Blessed Lifardus,and of the invention of the Cross
bringing eternal bliss and of the exaltation of the same Cross vivifying people.11

The old historians of Orléans stated that Charles the Bald had reconstructed Saint-Aignan though we do not have such evidence any
longer.12 In the second half of the ninth century, a canon of Saint-Aignan
composed the Second Life of St. Anianus; sometime from the second
half of the ninth century to the tenth century, another canon of SaintAignan compiled the Third Life of St. Anianus.13 Scribes copied the
good deeds of Anianus. Saint-Aignan, Fleury, Saint-Maur-des-Fossés, and
Marmoutier had possessed their products.14
There is no evidence for the relation between the cult and the lay
abbots of Saint-Aignan from the late ninth century. However, all of them
were not the stern usurpers on the saint’s property.Hugh the Abbot,the
dux Francorum, gave a serf his freedom in order that he could accept
the priesthood in 885.15 Count Robert, the son of Robert the Strong and
11
“Ut celebres sanctorum festivitates sollempni cultu observent et observandas suis
plebibus antea cognitent, hoc est natale domini, beati Stephani, sancti Iohannis evangeliste, innocentum, octabas domini, epiphania, nativitatem sancte Marie, purificationem
sancte Marie, assumptionem sancte Marie, sabbato sancto, paschae dies VIII, letania
maiore, ascensio domini, pentecosten, sancti Iohannis babtiste, sancti Petri, sancti Pauli,
sancti Martini, sancti Andree, nostrorum praeterea patrum, quorum piis apud dominum
patrociniis vicinis iuvamur: beati Evurtii de transitu, beati Aniani de transitu, beati Benedicti, beati Maximini, beati Lifardi similiter de transitu, de inventione salutifere crucis, de
exaltacione eiusdem vivifice crucis”: Walter of Orléans, Capitula, ed. Peter Brommer, in
MGH, Capitula episcoporum, I (Hanover, 1984), pp. 191–192, c. 18.
12
René Biémont, Orléans (Orléans, 1880; repr. [Paris], 1991), p. 105; Sejourné, op, cit.,
p. 16.
13
Vita s. ac beatissimi Aniani episcopi et confessoris (BHL 474), ed. Augustin Thénier,
in Augustin Thénier, Saint-Aignan, ou le siège d’Orléans, par Attila: Notice historique
suivie de la vie du saint, tirée des manuscrits de la bibliothèque du roi (Paris, 1832)
(hereafter cited Second Life of St.Anianus), pp. 27–33; Sermo de adventu s.Aniani episcopi (BHL 476),ed.Augustin Thénier,ibid.(hereafter cited Third Life of St.Anianus),pp.
34–36.
14
Seven manuscripts produced in that time survive: Vatican, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, reg. lat. 585, fols.33r–35v (9c.) and 59r–66v (10c.); Paris, Bibliothèque nationale, lat.
11748, fols. 70r–73t (10c.); Orléans, Bibliothèque municipale, 197, fols. 117–119 (10c.); Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, clm. 18546, fols.91r–97v (10–11c.); Tours, Bibliothèque
municipale, 1013, fols.293r–298v (10–11c.); Paris Bibliothèque Ste. Geneviève, lat. 3013,
fols. 27r–39v (10–11c.). See Joseph van der Straeten, Les manuscrits hagiographiques
d’Orléans, Tours et Angers (Brussels, 1982), pp. 45–128.
15
Hugh the Abbot, Diploma, ed. A.Vidier, in Le Moyen Age, 20 (1907), 315–316.

BY SATOSHI TADA

427

future King Robert I of the west Franks, interceded for Saint-Aignan in
order to get back some usurped land around 900.16

The Carolingian promoters of the cult had presented the saintly images of Anianus in the hagiographical texts mentioned above. They are
classified into four types.Type I:Anianus performed miraculous healing
four times.17 Miraculous cures had been often related since Sulpicius
Severus’s Life of St. Martin, and it was one of the major motifs in the
early medieval hagiography.18 Anianus was not an unusual saint from
this point of view.19
Type II:Anianus released prisoners. He asked a Roman general,Agripinus, to release the criminals imprisoned in the jail of Orléans and he finally succeeded in having him do so.20 This was also conventional as
late antique–early medieval saintly image.
Type III:Anianus defended the city of Orléans.Under the threat of the
Huns led by Attila, he visited the government of Arles and asked the Roman general Aetius to drive out the Huns. Anianus predicted the day of
the assault and made him promise to lead the army to Orléans. When the
army under Attila began to invade the city,Anianus spat to the sky.The spit
turned to rain; the rain became a storm, and the Loire was flooded with
the heavy rain. That prevented the Huns from entering the city. When
the rain stopped, they began to break into the city. However, Anianus
appeared at Aetius’s halting place as a vision, and he proposed that
Aetius come there with his army. On their arriving at the city, some
16
Eb[bo], Diploma, ed. A. Vidier, ibid., pp. 316–317. Mayke de Jong modified the image
of lay abbots as usurpers: Mayke de Jong,“Carolingian Monasticism: The Power of Prayer,”
in Rosamond McKitterick (ed.), The New Cambridge Medieval History, II: c. 700–c. 900
(Cambridge, 1995), pp.622–653. As for the formation of the powers in the Orléanais, see
François Muller,“Les formes du pouvoir en Orléanais (814–923),” BSAHO, n.s. 78 (1987),
7–26.
17
Second Life of St.Anianus, pp. 28–30, §3–5.
18
Sulpicius Severus, Vie de Saint Martin (BHL 5610), ed. Jacques Fontaine (3 vols.;
Paris,1967–1969),pp.248–345; Jonas of Orléans,Vita secunda sancti Huberti et corporis
ejus translatio ad monasterium Andaginense (BHL 3994 and 3995), ed. Carolus de
Smedt, in Carolus de Smedt, Gulielmus van Hooff, and Josephus de Backer (eds.), AASS,
Nov. I (Paris, 1887; repr. Brussels, [n.d.]), pp. 806–818; Miraculorum s. Huberti post
mortem liber primus (BHL 3996), ed. Carolus de Smedt, ibid., pp. 819–823.
19
Christine A. Dupont, “Les débuts du culte de saint Hubert à Andage,” Saint-Hubert
d’Ardenne, 8 (1991), 405; Head, op. cit., pp. 168–171, 236, 287.
20
Second Life of St.Anianus, p. 28, §3.

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

Huns were killed by sword, some were drowned in the Loire, some
surrendered themselves to the Roman army, and the others were expelled by the prayers of Anianus because he did not want a terrible
massacre any more. In this way, the saint liberated the city of Orléans
from the Huns under Attila.21 Weather miracles are frequent episodes in
hagiography.Petitioning the government and defending the city are typical deeds of episcopal saints. However, Anianus monopolized the image of defender in the Orléanais,and that is why he was one of the most
popular saints in this area. Armies tramped on Orléans throughout the
Middle Ages because it is located in the most northern part of the
Loire and then it had been a focal point of transportation routes.22
People must have prayed to Anianus for their security on threatening
occasions.
Type IV: Anianus was elected to the episcopacy through an amazing
procedure:“In those days, in the city of Orléans, the great noble families
flourished not only among the clergy but also among the people, and
then everyone wished to help himself or his relatives or friends.At [Anianus’s] ordination as bishop, the seeds of dissension were sowed and
the factions began to be hostile to each other.”23 Consequently, three
candidates applied.The solution taken was the so-called sortes biblicae
or the sortes sanctorum. “We gathering together shall keep a vigil
tonight, singing hymns and reading the Bible. And having taken a little
piece of paper, we shall write the three names one by one, which
names are to be concealed under the altar all night. When the time of
election comes after the Mass on the next morning,we shall bring an innocent boy, who is to withdraw the lots from the altar.”24 “An innocent
and still illiterate three-year-old boy” was taken to everyone,25 drew the
lot indicating Anianus,“began to cry out like a prophet, shouting and
saying,‘Anianus, Anianus, Anianus, who is now the only suitable person
Ibid., pp. 29–32, §4–9.
Jacques Debal, Cenabum, Aurelianis, Orléans (Lyons, 1996), p. 7.
23
“Illo itaque tempore, [ . . . ] in civitate Aurelianensium maxima nobilium propago florebat tam in clero, quam in populo; et dum sibi unusquisque, aut proximis aut amicis
quærit opitulari,[ . . . ] dissensionis [ . . . ] semina de ordinando antistite fruchtificaverunt, et cœperunt sibi partes esse adversæ”: Lucifer, Second Life of St. Evurtius, p. 57,
c. 18.
24
“hac nocte unanimiter congregati in hymnis ac lectionibus excubemus; et accepta
chartula, nomina trium singillatim indamus, quæ nomina sub altari tota nocte sint delitentia, peractis electo tempore crastina die Missis, puerulum innocentem adducamus, qui
præfatas chartulas de imo altaris retrahat”: Lucifer, Second Life of St. Evurtius, p. 58, c. 18.
25
“puerulus fere annorum trium, rudis et sine litteris”: First Life of St. Evurtius, p. 319,
c. 15.
21

22

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429

for the bishop of this city with honor.’”26 After that, they wished to confirm that this act was in conformity with the divine will. When they
opened the Psalms at random, they found the passage,“Blessed is the
one you choose and bring near, to dwell in your courts.”27 When they
opened the Gospel, they found,“You are Peter, and on this rock I will
build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”28 Thus
they were convinced of the legitimacy of this procedure. “Now, we
know that this election was done by God, and therefore we beg that he
may be the bishop whom Christ predestined.”29
Among the traditions about Anianus, the images of types I, II, and III
were not of Carolingian origin and had already appeared by the end of
the fifth century or the beginning of the sixth century.30 The Carolingian hagiographers only repeated the old legends. On the other hand,
the image of type IV did not come into view before the Carolingian period, as Head indicates.31 Can we think that this image emerged in the
Carolingian circumstances? Can we deduce any intentions of the Carolingian promoters from this image?
We should observe here the saintly images of St. Martin. Sulpicius
Severus let us know that Martin was elected bishop of Tours through
the sortes biblicae, too.32 Did the Carolingian hagiographers of Anianus
simply accept the image of Martin? There was a clear distinction between Martin and Anianus in the process of ordination. Martin was a
26
“tanquam propheta vociferari cœpit, clamans et dicens: Anianus, Anianus, Anianus,
honore solus in hac nunc civitate dignus est episcopatu”: Lucifer, Second Life of St. Evurtius, p. 58, c. 19. Jean-Claude Schmitt falsely states that the gathering people called “Anianus,Anianus,Anianus”: Jean-Claude Schmitt,“Les ‘superstitions,’”in Jacques Le Goff (ed.),
Histoire de la France religieuse, Vol. I: Des dieux de la Gaule à la papauté d’Avignon
(des origines au XIVe siècle) (Paris, 1988), p. 486.
27
Psalms LXV:4.
28
Matthew XVI:18.
29
“Nunc scimus quia electio haec est a Deo; et ideo rogamus ut ipse sit pontifex quem
Christus praedestinavit”: First Life of St. Evurtius, p. 319, c. 15.
30
Vita Aniani episcopi Aurelianensis (BHL 473), ed. Bruno Krusch, in MGH, Scriptores
Rerum Merovingicarum (hereafter cited as SRM), Vol. III: Passiones vitaequae sanctorum aevi Merovingici et antiquiorum aliquot, I (Hanover, 1896; repr. 1977) (hereafter
cited First Life of St.Anianus), pp. 109–117, cc. 2–3, 5–10. See above n. 1.
31
Head, op. cit., p. 35.
32
Sulpicius Severus, op. cit., pp. 270–273, c. 9. Among the saintly images of Martin, Anianus already gained type I half a century after his death whereas he had not gained type
IV before the Carolingian period. So we should think that the condition of creating the
image of type IV was different from that of type I. As for the sortes, see Gregory of Tours,
Libri historiarum X, in MGH SRM, I, ed. Bruno Krusch and Wilhelm Levison (Hanover,
1951; repr. 1965), pp. 149–150, liber 4, c. 16.

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

sole candidate and people used the sortes biblicae in order to qualify
him. Thus they did not use the lots indicating candidates and then did
not bring an innocent and illiterate boy to cast the lots. The administrative committee of Martin’s election only handled the Psalms on the
sortes biblicae though that of Anianus’s utilized the Gospel as well as
the Psalms. As for the Psalms, which were cited in both the hagiographies, they quoted from different parts.33 Hence, we cannot confirm
that the Carolingian hagiographers made textual borrowings from the
Life of St. Martin. We had better think they created the image of type IV
in the circumstances of their own times.
A number of saints’ lives were revised in the Carolingian period partly
because of the enhancement of saints’ cults and of Christianizing
people.34 The hagiographers of Anianus would create the image of type
IV in order to attract the faithful. For the sortes biblicae were the customs reflecting the naïve mentality of medieval people. People believed
sortes were the expressions of the divine will though some theologians condemned them as the remains of a pre-Christian custom of
Fortune.35
It was not Saint-Aignan but the Church of Orléans that created the
image of type IV. The author of the First Life of St. Evurtius, a canon of
the cathedral chapter, was the first person to record this episode. The
sortes biblicae were unfamiliar before him in the Orléanais. However,
Bishop Jonas had a chance to know such a lottery. Bishop Waltcaud of
Liège asked him to revise the First Life of St. Hubert written shortly after his elevation in 743. The sortes biblicae were portrayed in this Life.36
Between 825 and 831, Jonas completed the Second Life of St.Hubert, in
which the episode of the sortes remained as it was.37 It is possible that
Sulpicius Severus quoted from the Psalms VIII:3. Cf. above n. 27.
Satoshi Tada,“The Creation of a Religious Centre: Christianisation in the Diocese of
Liège in the Carolingian Period,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 54 (2003), 220–221.
35
Joseph-Claude Poulin, “Entre magie et religion: Recherches sur les utilisations marginales de l’écrit dans la culture populaire du haut moyen âge,”in Pierre Boglioni (ed.), La
culture populaire au moyen âge: Études présentées au Quatrième colloque de l’Institut
d’études médiévales de l’Université de Montréal, 2–3 avril 1977 (Montreal, 1979), pp.
130–136;Valerie I. J. Flint, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe (Princeton, 1991;
repr. 1994), pp. 217–226, 273–286; Ramsay MacMullen, Christianity and Paganism in the
Fourth to Eighth Centuries (New Haven, 1997), p. 139.
36
Vita Hugberti episcopi Traiectensis (BHL 3993), ed. Wilhelm Levison, in Bruno
Krusch and Wilhelm Levison (eds.) MGH, SRM,VI: Passiones vitaequae sanctorum aevi
Merovingici, IV (Hanover, 1913; repr. 1979), p. 494, c. 18.
37
Jonas of Orléans, op. cit., p. 815, c. 24.
33

34

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431

Jonas suggested this idea to the canons of his Church or forced it on
them.
In conclusion, the Church of Orléans seems to have been an enthusiastic promoter of the cult. Bishops and canons of the cathedral made a
large contribution to it.

We have much evidence that the Church of Orléans was an enthusiastic promoter of the cult of Anianus in the Carolingian period, as has
been mentioned. However, the cult had developed without any assistance from it before that time and it had not had any rights to the relic
of Anianus.
Anianus had been the most traditional and popular saint at Orléans.
The shrine called Saint-Aignan was already witnessed to in the sixth
century and presumably went back to the fifth century.38 It became one
of the representative shrines in seventh-century Gaul along with SaintDenis, Saint-Médard in Soissons, and Saint-Martin in Tours.39 The shrine
of Saint-Aignan is located to the east outside the late ancient-early medieval city wall. Such locations had been the foci of Christian worship
in the West.The Roman law prohibited a dead person from being buried
inside the city walls, and thus the graveyard was built outside.The faithful gathered together there in memory of a martyr on the anniversary
of his or her death. From the end of the fourth century, they began to
build the shrine on his or her grave, which had developed into the destination of pilgrimage such as Saint-Martin of Tours.
In many cases, bishops did not have any rights to the shrine outside
the walls. The case of Orléans is no exception. Saint-Aignan had been
outside the jurisdiction of the bishops since the seventh century.Clothar
III or Childeric II, with the intercession of his mother Queen Balthild,
gave Saint-Aignan immunity in 657–673 or 673–675.40 In the Carolin38
Gregory of Tours, op. cit., p. 432, liber 9, c. 18; Venantius Fortunatus, Vita Germani
episcopi Parisiaci (BHL 3468), ed. Bruno Krusch, in Bruno Krusch and Wilhelm Levison
(eds.), MGH, SRM, VII: Passiones vitaequae sanctorum aevi Merovingici, V (Hanover,
1920; repr. 1979), p. 413, c. 67; Vita Genovefae virginis Parisiensis (BHL 3335), ed. Bruno
Krusch, in MGH, SRM, III, p. 232, c. 42.
39
Clothar II put Godinus, son of the major domus Warnachar, on an oath of allegiance
before their relics in 626 or 627: The Fourth Book of the Chronicle of Fredegar with Its
Continuations, ed. and trans. J. M. Wallace-Hadrill (London, 1960), pp. 44–46, c. 54.
40
Vita sanctae Balthildis, ed. Bruno Krusch, in MGH, SRM, II: Fredegarii et aliorum
chronica.Vitae sanctorum (Hanover, 1880), pp. 493–494, c. 9; Theo Kölzer, Martina Hart-

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

gian period, Pippin III the Short and his successors also did so.41 On the
other hand, we cannot find Saint-Aignan in the list of possessions of the
Church of Orléans. Charles the Bald confirmed them at the request of
Bishop Jonas in 840–843. According to the charter, the Church of Orléans had possessed “the shrine of Saint-Euverte, Saint-Avit, Saint-Mesmin
[ . . . ] Saint-Jean, Saint-Marceau [ . . . ], Saint-Martin near the city wall,
Saint-Laurent, Saint-Gervais [later called Saint-Phallier], Saint-Vincent,
Saint-Serge, Saint-Pierre-des-Hommes [later called Saint-Pierre-en-Pont],
and Saint-Pierre-le-Puellier.” The list contains almost all the shrines in
the city except Saint-Aignan. After that, Leo VII (938), Lothar (956),
Benedict VII (974–980), Louis V (979), Hugh Capet (990), and Robert II
the Pious (991) gave the Church of Orléans no permission to possess
Saint-Aignan.42 In conclusion, the Church of Orléans did not have
any rights to Saint-Aignan, and thus to the cult of Anianus. Saint-Aignan
was the religious-political blind spot in the city for the Church of
Orléans.
Some bishops may not have welcomed such a situation because they
aimed to establish the spiritual hierarchy from the top. They wished to
do so organizationally as well as geographically. Bishop Theodulf gave
his priests instructions that “the clergy and people living in the city and
the suburbs should gather at one place for a public celebration of
Mass.”43 In the city of Orléans, “one place” must be the cathedral of
Sainte-Croix (Holy Cross), which is a ten minutes’ walk from Saint-

mann, and Andrea Stieldorf (eds.), Die Urkunden der Merowinger (Diplomata regum
Francorum e stirpe Merovingica) (2 vols.; Hanover, 2001), p. 663, dep. 401.
41
Johann Friedrich Böhmer and Engelbert Mühlbacher, Regesta imperii, I: Die Regesten
des Kaiserreichs unter den Karolingern 751–918, 2nd edn. (Innsbruck, 1908; repr.
Hildesheim, 1966), pp. 245–246; Karl Zeumer (ed.) Formulae Imperiales e curia Ludovici
Pii, in MGH, Formulae Merowingici et Karolini aevi (Hanover, 1886; repr. 1963), pp.
296–297, no. 15.
42
Joseph Thillier and Eugène Jarry (eds.), Cartulaire de Sainte-Croix d’Orléans (814–
1300) (Orléans, 1906), pp. 63–66, c. 33; pp. 37–43, c. 19; pp. 519–521, c. 376; pp. 44–45, c.
20; pp. 125–129, c. 64; pp. 78–86, cc. 39–40.
43
“Sed sive sacerdotes, qui in circuitu urbis aut in eadem urbe sunt, sive populus, ut
praediximus, in unum ad publicam missarum celebrationem convenient exceptis deo
sacratis feminis, quibus mos est ad publicum non egredi, sed claustris monasterii contineri”: Theodulf of Orléans, Capitula I, ed. Peter Brommer, in MGH, Capitula episcoporum, I (Hanover, 1984), p. 142, c. 45.
44
The city of Orléans does not seem to have been divided into several parishes in those
days and thus Sainte-Croix and Saint-Aignan coexisted in the same parish. The parish of
Saint-Aignan became independent in 1802: Gaillard and Debal, op. cit., p. 19.

BY SATOSHI TADA

433

Aignan.44 Economically, the bishops of Orléans would be jealous of the
success of Anianus’s cult if they also hosted markets.45 Theodulf forbade
trade in churches. Does this mean he was expressing envy of the market of Saint-Aignan?46 Anyway, it remains to be analyzed why the Church
of Orléans would promote the cult of Anianus.
We must recollect the multiple functions of Carolingian bishops in order to understand these circumstances. They were often members of
the royal court and indispensable for the politics of the Carolingian empire. Locally, they were the organizers of dioceses and the leaders of
episcopal churches. Moreover, they assumed responsibility for the city.
They had retained some secular functions even after the collapse of the
late Merovingian “episcopal republics.”47 The Carolingian bishops managed the administration of cities, supplied citizens with food, controlled
markets,and normalized weights and measures.48 In the late Carolingian
period, they were in charge of the defense of their cities again. In the
Orléanais, Agius commanded ships and defended the city against the

Alain Erlande-Brandenburg, La cathédrale ([Paris], 1989,) p. 91.
Theodulf of Orléans, Capitula I, pp. 108–109, c. 8. Rosamond McKitterick argues that
this article indicates people’s familiarity with churches: Rosamond McKitterick, The Frankish Church and the Carolingian Reforms, 789–895 (London, 1977), pp. 55–56.
47
It had been thought that Charles Martell banished Bishop Eucherius of Orléans and
dissolved the “episcopal republic”in the 730’s:Friedrich Prinz,Klerus und Krieg im frühen
Mittelalter: Untersuchungen zur Rolle der Kirche beim Aufbau der Königsherrschaft
(Stuttgart, 1971); Josef Semmler,“Episcopi potestas und karolingische Klosterpolitik,” in
Arno Borst (ed.), Mönchtum, Episkopat und Adel zur Gründungzeit des Klosters Reichenau (Sigmaringen, 1974), pp. 344–348; Reinhold Kaiser, Bischofsherrschaft zwischen
Königtum und Fürstenmacht: Studien zur bischöflichen Stadtherrschaft im westfränkisch-französischen Reich im frühen und hohen Mittelalter (Bonn, 1981), pp.
493–506. Recent scholarship tends to modify the image of Charles Martell as usurper: Ian
Wood, The Merovingian Kingdoms, 450–751 (London, 1994; repr. 1997), pp. 273–277;
Jorg Jarnut, Ulrich Nonn, and Michael Richter (eds.), Karl Martell in seiner Zeit (Sigmaringen, 1994); Paul Fouracre,“Attitudes towards Violence in Seventh- and Eighth-Century
Francia,” in Violence and Society in the Early Medieval West, ed. Guy Halsall (Rochester,
New York, 1998), pp. 60–75. However, it seems that the activity of the Church of Orléans
declined in the time between Eurcherius and Theodulf because no bishop of Orléans attended the reform councils under Carloman and Pippin III the Short: Jean Heuclin,
Hommes de Dieu et fonctionnaires du roi en Gaule du Nord du Ve siècle au IXe siècle
(Villeneuve-d’Ascq, 1998), p. 256.
48
Capitulare Suessionense, ed. Alfred Boretius, in MGH, Capitularia, I (Hanover,
1883), p. 30, c. 6; Admonitio generalis, ed. Alfred Boretius, ibid, p. 60, c. 74. See ErlandeBrandenburg, op. cit., p. 91.
45

46

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

Normans together with Bishop Bouchard of Chartres.49 Walter restored
the city wall.50
On which function each bishop laid stress depended upon time,
locality, occasion, and so on. For example, the bishops of Liège near
Aachen were court members of the successive Carolingian rulers. In
their diocese, they simply tried to extend their authority to the whole
area.51 The bishops of Orléans were also key persons of Carolingian
politics especially after the division of the empire into east and west.
Their local functions were more complicated than that of the bishops
of Liège.
As heads of the cathedral church, the bishops of Orléans should have
evolved the cult of the Holy Cross installed there. The cult of Anianus
was a potential rival to them. As “mayors” of Orléans, the bishops were
faced with major communities outside the city: Ferrières, Meung-surLoire, Micy, and Fleury. Among these monasteries, Fleury could be the
most formidable rival because it had already acquired the relic of St.
Benedict of Nursia around 673.52 In fact, hagiographers reported the
conflict between Fleury and the bishops.53 Anianus was the only urban
saint competitive to Benedict, the father of Western monasticism. As
diocesan organizers,the bishops should have looked after every saint in
their diocese especially in an emergency. Walter did so, as mentioned
above.According to Head,“Quite possibly Walter’s insistence on the celebration of these [saints’] feasts and on the patrocinium which these
‘fathers’ provided was in part a response to the havoc which had been
wreaked in the fabric of social life by the Norman raids.”54 We must note
that Louis the Pious conceded the Church of Orléans half of the toll
49
Prudentius of Troyes, [Annales Bertiniani, pars secunda], in Félix Grat, Jeanne Vielliard, and Suzanne Clémencet (eds.), Annales de Saint-Bertin (Paris, 1964), p. 64, a. 854.
50
Jacques Debal, Le plan d’Orléans à travers les siècles (Orléans, 1980), p. 14. In general, see Reinhold Kaiser,“Les évêques neustriens du Xe siècle dans l’exercice de leur pouvoir temporel d’après l’historiographie médiévale,” in Olivier Guillot and Robert Favreau
(eds.),Pays de Loire et Aquitaine de Robert le Fort aux premiers Capétiens:Actes du colloque scientifique international tenu à Angers en septembre 1987 (Poitiers, 1997), pp.
117–143.
51
Tada, op. cit., 209–227.
52
Arno Borst (ed.), Der karolingische Reichskalender und seine Überlieferung bis ins
12. Jahrhundert (3 vols.; Hanover, 2001), p. 698, n. 1. Also see Jean-Marie Berland, “La
présence bénédictine dans le diocèse d’Orléans,VIIe–XIIIe siècles: Moines noirs et moines
blancs,” Bulletin de la Société Historique, Archéologique et Artistique du Giennois, 29
(1981), 3–56.
53
Head, op. cit., pp. 235–281.
54
Ibid., p. 50.

BY SATOSHI TADA

435

from the pagus. The toll was to be collected from carts, ships, commodities traded in this pagus, and the fisc.55 If this “pagus”means pagus
Aurelianensis, which was almost identical to the diocese of Orléans,56
the Church of Orléans had gained a lot of profit from the visitors to
each shrine located here and there in this diocese.57 There had been a
more complicated situation. Theodulf is said to have held the abbacy of
Saint-Aignan as well as Fleury. Rulers seem to have appointed him to be
abbot not because of his episcopate but because of his personal quality.
For, on the exile of Theodulf to Anger in 818, Jonas succeeded to his
episcopate but not to his abbacy.58
At the conclusion of this paper, we should consider the response of
the community of Saint-Aignan to the movement of the Church of Orléans. The hagiographies derived from Saint-Aignan will give us a clue.
Renaud explains that “the Second Life of St.Anianus borrows from the
Lives of St. Evurtius, particularly from the second one, in which we can
find some expressions.”59 However, what the hagiographers did was not
only confined to textual borrowing.
According to the Lives of St. Evurtius, Evurtius appointed Anianus
to be his successor. Evurtius proposed the sortes when the objection
against his ordination was raised and other candidates appeared,as above
mentioned. After the election of Anianus, Evurtius taught him how to
govern the Church and committed it to him.60 Head concludes, “The
55
“medietatem telonei ex pago illo ecclesie sanctae Crucis per praeceptionis sue auctoritates libentissime concessissent, tam de carris quam de navibus vel de omni conmercio, quod in eodem pago venditur aut emitur, de omnibus videlicet rebus, de quibus
fiscus teloneum exigere poterat”: Zeumer, op. cit., p. 300, no. 19. See Olivier Bruand,
Voyageurs et marchandises aux temps carolingiens: Les réseaux de communication
entre Loire et Meuse aux VIIIe et IXe siècles (Brussels, 2002), pp. 51–54.
56
See attached map of Charles Cuissard,“Théodulfe, évêque d’Orléans: Sa vie et ses œuvres, avec une carte du pagvs Avrelianensis au IXe siècle,” Mémoires de la Société
Archéologique et Historique de l’Orléanais, 24 (1892), 1–351.
57
Some shrines including Saint-Aignan were exempted from tolls and thus the Church
of Orléans would not earn direct income from them: Böhmer and Mühlbacher, op. cit., p.
246; Zeumer, op. cit., pp. 300–301, no. 20; Marie-Marguerite Lemarignier,“Études sur les anciennes chartes de l’abbaye Saint-Mesmin de Micy et essai de reconstruction des cartulaires” (2 vols.; unpublished doctoral dissertation, Ecole nationale des chartes, 1937), pp.
15–17, no. 3. Alain J. Stoclet, Immunes ab omni teloneo: Étude diplomatique, de philologie et d’histoire sur l’exemption de tonlieux au haut Moyen Age et spécialement sur la
Praeceptio de navibus (Brussels, 1999), pp. 422–423; Bruand, op. cit., pp. 47–51.
58
Kaiser, Bischofsherrschaft zwischen Königtum und Fürstenmacht, p. 496.
59
Renuad,“Les miracles de saint Aignan d’Orléans, XIe siècle,” p. 252.
60
First Life of St. Evurtius, pp. 318–319, cc. 14–15; Lucifer, Second Life of St. Evurtius
pp. 57–58, c. 17–19.

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THE CULT OF ST. ANIANUS IN THE CAROLINGIAN PERIOD

diocese’s patrons [Anianus and Evurtius] formed a close-knit association and that God’s providence worked directly through their agency.”61
Why did the hagiographers of the cathedral chapter tell such an association? They made wide use of the fame of Anianus to enhance the cult
of Evurtius, who was an agent-saint of the Church of Orléans.62
The authors of the Second and Third Life of St. Anianus told us almost the same story.63 However, the old tradition of Saint-Aignan itself
was quite different from this story. According to the First Life of St.Anianus composed at the community from the end of the fifth century to
the beginning of the sixth century, Anianus was not the successor of
Evurtius and there were many bishops between them.64 The community of Saint-Aignan left aside their own traditions and accepted the
new traditions created by the Church of Orléans.
Furthermore, Saint-Aignan had contributed to enhance the cult of
Evurtius and strengthened the bond between him and their saint. The
author of the Second Life of St. Anianus spared a chapter for the ordination and the deeds of Evurtius. Evurtius is another hero in the Third
Life of St. Anianus: He came from Rome to Orléans and took up the
bishop’s chair. His fame became so lustrous that it could attract Anianus
to Orléans. Evurtius trained Anianus, consecrated him as priest, and
committed the church of Saint-Laurent to him.65
We should keep in mind the social conditions from the second half
of the ninth century to the tenth century when the Lives of St.Anianus
were written in order that we may understand why Saint-Aignan accepted the assertion of the Church of Orléans and co-operated with it
in evolving the cult of Evurtius.According to the Annales de Saint-Bertin,
the Normans attacked the shores of the Loire and burned the city and
the churches in Orléans except Sainte-Croix in 865. Saint-Aignan seems
to have been a victim among them.66 Scholars have not reached agreement on the degree of the social damage of the Christian world caused
Head, op. cit., pp. 105–107.
On the cult of Evurtius, Satoshi Tada,“Conflicts between Universal Saints and Local
Saints?:The Cult of Saints in Early Medieval Orléans”( paper presented at the International
Medieval Congress 2004, Leeds, July, 2004).
63
Second Life of St.Anianus, pp. 27–28, § 2; Third Life of St.Anianus, pp. 35–36, § 6–9.
64
First Life of St.Anianus, p. 108, c. 2.
65
Third Life of St.Anianus, pp. 34–35, § 3–6.
66
“et in redeundo Aurelianis ciuitatem et monasteria ibidem et circumcirca consistentia igni cremant, praeter ecclesiam Sanctae Crucis, quam flamma, cum inde multum laboratum a Nortmannis fuerit, uorare non potuit”: Hincmar of Rheims, [Annales Bertiniani,
pars tertia], in Grat,Vielliard, and Clémencet, op. cit., p. 117, a. 865. See René Biémont, La
61

62

BY SATOSHI TADA

437

by the Normans.67 However, such raids must have frightened the clergy
and monks because they were the first potential victims of the Normans.
Saint-Aignan was their easy target among the churches in Orléans. It
stood close to the Loire without any walls in the early Middle Ages. The
walls around Saint-Aignan had not been constructed before 1480.68 The
last hope of Saint-Aignan was the miraculous power of the dead (i.e.,
image of type I) as well as the real power of the living bishops, who
could mobilize vessels and troops.69

collégiale de Saint-Aignan d’Orléans (Orléans, 1876), pp. 12–13; Sejourné, op. cit., p. 15;
Gaillard and Debal, op. cit., p. 17.
67
Janet L. Nelson,“Introduction,” in The Annals of St-Bertin (Manchester, 1991), p. 1;
eadem,“The Frankish Empire,” in Peter Sawyer (ed.), The Oxford Illustrated History of
the Vikings (Oxford, 1997), pp. 19–47.
68
Debal, Le plan d’Orléans à travers les siècles, p. 21.
69
See above n. 49.

THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR
CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY
IN THE AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT
BY

MICHAEL PRINTY*

I. Introduction: Catholic Enlightenment and Popular Catholicism

One of the greatest paradoxes of modern Catholic history is that a
seemingly moribund Old Regime Church gave way to a broad-based
popular Catholic revival in the nineteenth century. How can this reinvigoration be accounted for? Miracles, of course, are always a possibility, but historians are required to look for more prosaic explanations.
The Catholic revival has received a fair share of scholarly attention. As a
multi-faceted phenomenon,scholars have focused on questions ranging
from diocesan organization and clerical training, to in-depth studies on
religious experience of the common people. For all this interest in
nineteenth-century Catholicism at the local and popular level,however,
it remains to be explained how the Old Regime Church could accommodate its traditional distrust—when not outright repression—of popular religious practices, enabling popular Catholicism in fact to become
one of the key aspects of the Church’s political and social power. For all
the emphasis on nineteenth-century developments, then, it remains to
be shown how Roman Catholicism in the eighteenth century underwent a fundamental revision in its approach to popular religion. While
it is certain that social, economic, and institutional factors had an important role in the shaping of popular Catholicism, can it also be said
that there were intellectual roots as well?
*Dr. Printy is a visiting assistant professor of history in Wesleyan University. He would
like to thank the following people for reading and commenting on earlier versions of this
article: Margaret L. Anderson, Thomas A. Brady, Jr., Julian Bourg, Carla Hesse, James
Keenan, S.J., and John O’Malley, S.J.

438

BY MICHAEL PRINTY

439

The remainder of this article addresses this question by describing
the intellectual context of the eighteenth-century revolution in Catholic
moral theology that enabled the institutional Church to align itself with
the practices of popular Catholicism. This essay also hopes to demonstrate that the intellectual components of popular Catholicism must be
understood on their own terms, and not merely reduced to social or political factors. I propose to demonstrate that the new moral system outlined below overcame certain intellectual barriers that would otherwise
have stood in the way of the Church’s enthusiastic embrace of popular
religious practices and attitudes.1 The central question of this essay,
therefore, is how the aristocratic-minded Church of the Counter-Reformation adapted to the social transformations of the eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries, to become, in the words of Louis Châtellier,
“the religion of the poor.”2 Rather than seeing this new identity as a late
reaction to the changes of the revolutionary era, I will suggest how its
roots extend back into the early eighteenth century, specifically to disputes over laxism, probabilism, and rigorism.
Social historians like Châtellier have shown how, around the eighteenth century, missionaries in Europe shifted their efforts away from
trying to force peasants to completely abandon their so-called superstitious beliefs.Instead,the missionaries embraced what they now accepted
as genuine piety, and sought instead only to strengthen the connections
between popular piety and the institutional Catholic Church. In my
view, this shift in pastoral practice should be seen in concert with the
revolution in moral theology that—while not abandoning the concept
of original sin—downplayed the strongly negative Augustinian condemnation of human nature and embraced a generally more optimistic
view of human moral capability. The figure of the Neapolitan moral
theologian and founder of the popular Redemptorist Congregation
Alphonsus Maria di Liguori (1696–1787) stands at the center of this
transformation. Liguori not only authored one of the most widely circulated tracts on the Marian devotion—the queen of superstition to En1
A parallel development occurred in new approaches to pastoral theology, which is
not the subject of my account here. My argument is that the intellectual dilemma in the
field of moral theology was of an order different from the pragmatic issues dealt with in
new pastoral approaches. Obviously, the two were linked in practice. Yet it is worth pursuing the moral developments for the light they shed on the reorientation in Catholic
thought.
2
See Louis Châtellier, La Religion des Pauvres: Les missions rurales en Europe et la
formation du Catholicisme moderne, XVI–XIX siècle (Paris, 1993).

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

lightenment Christians and rational skeptics alike—the Glories of
Mary. He also succeeded in elaborating a system of moral theology
which postulated that in cases of doubt about the existence of a moral
law, human “liberty” was anterior to the law.3 More clearly than others,
Liguori overcame the negative Augustinian view of human nature that
had led Jansenists to follow their rigorist tendencies in moral theology.4
The Jansenist context is significant because of the role that Jansenism
is said to have played in the emergence of the Catholic Reform movement in the eighteenth century. In recent years, a scholarly consensus
has emerged that the eighteenth century witnessed the flowering of a
“Catholic Enlightenment,” which was itself part of a broader moderate
religious Enlightenment. The Catholic Enlightenment occurred on different levels, and while there was necessarily an international component, given the structure of the Church, most work has been done in
relation to “reform Catholicism”in a variety of national contexts.5 In the
Catholic world, the movement to “purify” ecclesiastical institutions of
popular superstition is largely—though not exclusively—ascribed to

3
Significantly, given Hume’s association of Jesuit “molinism” with priestly power over
the people, Liguori’s theological achievement (with the unwitting aid of the Bavarian
Canon Regular Eusebius Amort) was to revitalize the oft-maligned doctrine of probabilism around the concept of “equiprobabilism.”The framework for his Moral Theology was
Hermann Busenbaum’s Medulla, though Liguori rewrote significant portions of it. For a
full discussion, see my dissertation Perfect Societies: German States and the Roman
Catholic Revolution, 1684–1806 (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of California at Berkeley, 2002).
4
Théodule Rey-Mermet, Moral Choices: The Moral Theology of Saint Alphonsus of
Liguori, translated by Paul Laverdure (Liguori, Missouri, 1998). For a full account of
Liguori and his times, see the excellent biography of Théodule Rey-Mermet, St.Alphonsus
Liguori. Tireless Worker for the Most Abandoned, translated by Jehanne-Marie Marchesi
(New York, 1989). See also Louis Vereecke, De Guillaume d’Ockham à Saint Alphonse
de Liguori. Études d’histoire de la théologie morale moderne, 1300–1787 (“Bibliotheca
Historica Congregationis SSmi Redemptoris,”Vol. XII [Rome, 1986]).
5
For a recent survey of the literature on Reform Catholicism, with an emphasis on Germany, see David Sorkin,“Reform Catholicism and Religious Enlightenment,” Austrian History Yearbook, 30 (1999), 187–219. Sorkin also provides a concise account of changing
scholarly attitudes toward the role of religion in the Enlightenment in his “Reclaiming
Theology for the Enlightenment: The Case of Siegmund Jacob Baumgarten (1706–1757),”
Central European History, 36 (2003), 503–530. For a fuller bibliographic review, which
traces the revival of interest in religion in the eighteenth century, see Jonathan Sheehan,
“Enlightenment, Religion, and the Enigma of Secularization: A Review Essay,” American
Historical Review, 108 (October, 2003), 1061–1080. Earlier important work on this topic
was done by Bernard Plongeron, Théologie et politique au siècle des lumières, 1770–1820
(Geneva, 1973).

BY MICHAEL PRINTY

441

Jansenism (or its less dour successor, “late Jansenism”).6 The place of
Jansenism was largely determined by the ecclesiastical and political constellations of the respective countries, however. The French case, where
the Crown waged a full-frontal assault on the Jansenists,and thereby created an opposition party, is well known.7 Italian Jansenism produced—
in Habsburg Tuscany, at least—the reformist decrees of the Synod of
Pistoia under Scipione Ricci (though the statutes were soon abrogated),
attacking popular superstition and devotions such as that to the Sacred
Heart.8 In Spain, as Richard Herr has argued, Jansenism laid the groundwork for later liberalism.9 Austrian Jansenism—imported from the Habsburg Netherlands—provided the genuine religious impetus for the
reform program known as “Josephinism” (even though it started under
the reign of Joseph II’s mother, Maria Theresa), especially in its suppression of monasteries, increased state control of education, and restrictions on popular devotions, pilgrimages, and rituals.10 Affiliating the
Catholic Enlightenment with late-Jansenism has the added advantage of
demonstrating the common links between the Catholic reform movement in the eighteenth century and other religious reform programs in
Europe, most notably Pietism and Neology in Germany, and the Moderate ascendancy in the Scottish Presbyterian Church.11
The Catholic Enlightenment, then, can be integrated with relative
ease into the broader narrative of religious accommodation to the modern
world over the course of the eighteenth century. What distinguishes
the Catholic experience from moderate Protestant reform movements,
however, is that in most cases the institutional goals of the Catholic reformers met with disappointment, brushed aside in the turmoil of the
French Revolution and subsequent political and ecclesiastical reaction.
6
Peter Hersche, Der Spätjansenismus in Österreich (“Veröffentlichungen der Kommission für Geschichte Österreichs,Vol. 7 [Vienna, 1977]).
7
Most recently: John McManners,Church and Society in Eighteenth-century France (2
vols.; Oxford, 1998); Dale K. Van Kley, The Religious Origins of the French Revolution:
From Calvin to the Civil Constitution, 1560–1791 (New Haven, 1996). See them for the
older literature.
8
Charles A. Bolton, Church Reform in 18th Century Italy (The Synod of Pistoia,
1786) (“International Archives of the History of Ideas,”Vol. 29 [The Hague, 1969]); Mario
Rosa, Settecento religioso. Politica della Ragione e religione del cuore (Venice, 1999).
9
Richard Herr, The Eighteenth Century Revolution in Spain (Princeton, 1958).
10
Hersche, op. cit.
11
For Germany, see Karl Aner, Die Theologie der Lessingzeit (Halle, 1929); Karl Barth,
Protestant Theology in the Nineteenth Century. Its Background and History, translated
by Brian Cozens and John Bowden (Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2001 [orig. 1947]). For Scotland,see Richard B.Sher,Church and University in the Scottish Enlightenment:The Moderate Literati of Edinburgh (Princeton, 1985).

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

Indeed, it was not until Vatican Council II that many of the specific
suggestions of the eighteenth-century Catholic reformers were actually adopted by the Church, long after the contentious Church-State
issues that plagued the Catholic reform movement had lost their
force.12
While the aspirations of the largely middle-class, educated Catholic
reformers were to be frustrated, the period after the French Revolution
saw a vigorous Catholic resurgence on the popular level.13 This revival
is a well-known phenomenon that took many forms according to region or country. There were at least two common elements of this revival. On the institutional side, an intensification and revitalization of
the ministry at the diocesan and parochial level was pursued by reforming bishops and churchmen, often aided by active preaching and
missionary orders of both men and women.14 The second key aspect
of the Catholic revival was the rigorous embrace on the part of the
Catholic people not only of the normal churchly obligations but also of
extracurricular Catholic practices such as pilgrimages, devotions to the
sacrament, or participation in Catholic lay associations. Crowning this
revival of popular Catholic practice was the intensified interest in
the Virgin Mary, whose frequent apparitions in the nineteenth century
were often taken by the faithful as a rebuke to the secularism of Enlightenment rationalism and sober religiosity of reform Catholicism
alike.
Given that much of the Catholic Enlightenment program—with the
exception of the embrace of the state as an agent of religious reform—
was indeed adopted in the twentieth century, historians of eighteenthcentury Catholicism often have not taken full cognizance of the
principled resistance to the Catholic Reform program. Instead, the hierarchy’s refusal to accept many of the reformers’ ideas has been too
easily ascribed to institutional intransigence and conservative closedmindedness, a perennial lament in the history of the Church. While cer12
For example, vernacular liturgies. See Leonard Swidler, Aufklärung Catholicism,
1780–1850: Liturgical and Other Reforms in the Catholic Aufklärung (“American Academy of Religion Studies in Religion,” no. 17 [Missoula, Montana, 1978]).
13
The broad Catholic revival is to be contrasted with the numerically insignificant embrace of Catholicism on the part of early nineteenth-century intellectuals in the Romantic era, which I do not discuss here.
14
For the central importance of action at the diocesan level, see the important article
by Emmet Larkin,“The Devotional Revolution in Ireland, 1850–75,” The American Historical Review, 77 ( June, 1972), 625–652.

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tainly there are some grounds for these complaints, I will argue that the
official Church did not merely react and resist, but also undertook a creative transformation in its own approach to popular religion in the eighteenth century that set it at odds with the more sober religious program
of the Catholic Enlightenment.The two movements—of Reform Catholicism and popular Catholic revival—must be understood together. The
present essay seeks to get to the heart of their divergence in the eighteenth century by focusing specifically on the ways in which moral theologians perceived the role of the sacraments in moral edification and
the place of the Church in this process.
2. Liguori and the Religion of the Poor

No one embodied the new missionary zeal of popular Catholicism
better than Alphonsus Maria de Liguori. Scion of a prominent Neapolitan knightly family, Liguori studied law in the same faculty in which Giambattista Vico taught. Expert in “both” laws (civil and canon), he
enjoyed a brilliant career in Naples (the third largest city in Europe after
Paris and London), a city renowned for its law courts. He did not lose a
case between 1715 and 1723, but, after he did finally lose a case—
apparently due to bribery and political meddling—he rejected his legal
career and entered the seminary.15 He then went on to found the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer (Redemptorists) in 1732,an order
devoted to the rural poor, and finally became—against his wishes—
Bishop of Saint Agatha of the Goths. Over the course of his career he
authored numerous ascetic and theological works. Liguori’s Moral Theology went through nine editions in his lifetime and seventy-three editions after he died.Of his devotional tracts,his Visits to the Most Blessed
Sacrament numbers over two thousand editions, and the Glories of
Mary more than a thousand. The Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ
has reached 535 editions, while Preparation for Death numbers 319.
His works have appeared in over seventy languages. As Jean Delumeau
notes,“these statistics give the measure of a religious and cultural event
which has not always been given its due place in the history of
books.”16 Liguori was beatified in 1816,canonized in 1839,declared doctor of the Church in 1871 and patron saint of confessors in 1950.
By erecting a moral theology that was sympathetic to the plight of
the common people, Liguori enabled to Church to ally itself with popRey-Mermet, Moral Choices, pp. xvi–xxv.
Jean Delumeau,“Preface,” in Rey-Mermet, St.Alphonsus Liguori, p. 7.

15
16

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

ulist politics, even if this alliance put the support of the bourgeoisie in
jeopardy.Indeed,the theological tradition Liguori confronted—much of
it inspired by the French school of spirituality—was in many ways a
Catholic bourgeois theology: one that emphasized individual devotion
at the expense of collective ritual. It privileged the internal light of reason over external authority and denigrated the sensual in favor of quiet
reflection and meditation. This interiority and introspection could easily lead to a secular ethics, one that did not preclude personal religious
belief, but also one where religious belief was not an essential cohesive
force in society. It should be noted that Liguori and his cohorts never
approached this question from such an instrumentalist standpoint. For
them, the issue was that the poor needed the succor of religion. That
their missions enjoyed such success indicates that their diagnosis was
correct.
In his campaign against rigorism and Jansenism, Liguori consistently
asserted that the Eucharist should be brought to the broadest number
of believers possible. In one of his popular tracts entitled The Practice
of the Love of Jesus Christ he wrote that the very nature of the sacrament indicated this:
In order that each one of us could easily receive him, Jesus Christ prefers to
place himself under the species of bread. Certainly he could leave himself to
humans under the species of some rare and expensive delicacies. But then
the poor would be deprived of him. He wanted therefore to remain in the appearance of bread so that everybody everywhere could find and receive him,
given that bread costs very little and can be found everywhere.17

Liguori continually emphasizes the singularity of the Eucharist in the
economy of salvation as the “deposit of eternal happiness” left to human beings.18 The significance of Liguori’s pastoral writings, however,
does not lie merely in his emphasis on the Eucharist for salvation and
on the need to share it with as many as possible. This emphasis is more
properly attributed to his engagement for the poor.
Liguori’s moral theology is of such historical importance because of
the way he so firmly embedded the sacrament of communion in an ethical system at the very time when European moralists and philosophers
were trying to separate—cognitively, at least—morality from religion.19
17
Alphonse de Liguori, La Pratique de l’Amour de Jésus-Christ (Lille, Paris, and Bruges,
1910), p. 31.
18
Ibid., p. 29.
19
That this process has been largely overlooked by most secular intellectual historians
because they have taken the work of ethical philosophers at their word is only part of the

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One cannot understand the historical background against which the
great philosophical (that is immanent and non-metaphysical) systems
were constructed without taking into account the questions of universalism and popular piety that so occupied the Catholic thinkers.The Enlightenment assertion that the field of ethics must be “freed” from any
appeal to revelation or transcendental values took place in the midst of
a struggle for legitimacy in the sphere of morality.20 While bourgeois
moralists asserted their independence from outside authorities in the
name of conscience, they went to great lengths to create edifices of
morality and ethics for the common people. It is in this context that we
must consider Liguori’s efforts instead to more firmly ground the place
of the institutional Church in the ethical life of the common people.
Having established the benefits of the Eucharist for salvation, Liguori
next tries to detail how it actually affects our souls.The Catholic Church
requires not only that communicants be confessed of mortal sin, but
that they make every effort possible to curb the inclination toward venial sin. Liguori notes that the sinner is bound to feel his weakness in
the face of such a task:
A soul is persuaded that nothing could be done or imagined more agreeable
to Jesus Christ than to go receive in one’s heart, with the appropriate disposition, such a dignified host . . . What is necessary, I said, is not a worthy disposition but an appropriate one. If it were required that one be worthy [to
receive the Eucharist], who would ever dare communicate? Only a God could
ever be worthy to receive a God. By appropriate disposition, I mean that of a
feeble creature, dressed in the unhappy flesh of Adam. For it suffices, normally speaking, to be in a state of grace and to have a vibrant desire to grow
in love for Jesus Christ.21

Liguori further states that the question of frequency of communion
is mostly a question for the communicant and his or her spiritual director. However, he prefers decisions that allow frequent communion. He
writes:
The Council of Trent teaches that holy communion is the great remedy designated to deliver us from venial sins and to keep us [from committing] mortal sins. It delivers us from venial sins, says St. Thomas, by means of acts of
story.For their own part,church historians who erect disciplinary walls around moral theology have failed to see the place of theology in the general evolution of early modern
ethical thought.A history of secular philosophical ethics ignores Catholic moral theology
at its own peril.
20
For a recent account of the classic position, see J. B. Schneewind, The Invention of
Autonomy.A History of Modern Moral Philosophy (Cambridge, 1998).
21
Liguori, op. cit., pp. 34–35.

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love which it stimulates us to commit and which thereby erase these types
of sins. It preserves us from mortal sins because it augments grace, and this
protects against mortal sins.

He concludes the passage by quoting Innocent III, who noted that “if
Christ delivered us from sin by the Passion, the Eucharist delivers us
from the will to sin.”22 Finally, Liguori states that the “principal effect of
the sacrament is to ignite in hearts the flame of holy love of God. As the
apostle John writes, God is charity.”23 Liguori employs almost exclusively the language of sin and redemption. Yet his innovation lies in the
ways in which he links doctrine and the practices of moral edification.
He centers his moral theology on charity and tries to show how this
virtue helps us master our behavior and inclinations. Liguori makes the
lex caritatis the supreme law of his moral system, which really means
that the individual conscience is called to order. Liguori insists, however, that the sacramental apparatus of the Catholic Church is needed
for this charity to be effective. In one of his devotional tracts, Liguori
emphasizes the primacy of the devotion to the Eucharist over all others:“Let it be known that by means of a quarter-hour of prayer in front
of the host you will perhaps gain more than by all other spiritual exercises throughout the whole day.”24
3. Liberty and the Divine Law in Liguori’s Moral Theology

If the sacraments are at the heart of Liguori’s moral system, then they
need to be widely accessible for them to be effective on a general scale.
Liguori’s emphasis on frequent communion put him squarely at odds
with Jansenists and their fellow-travelers among rigorous theologians,
who preferred that the Eucharist be received only after extensive reflection and purification. While his devotional and popular works were
aimed at individual penitents and sought to orient their ethical life
around the practices of the Church, Liguori’s moral theology was directed at pastors and confessors, and he directly attacked rigorous
strains of moral theology that he saw as imposing too stringent restrictions on penitents. Liguori’s specific innovation in moral theology was
in his defense of the doctrine of probabilism (more precisely, equiprobabilism, as will be discussed below) against more rigorous schools of
thought. Properly understood, the doctrine of probabilism and the var22
Ibid., pp. 37–38. Innocent III quotation from De sacro altaris mysterio, Bk. 4, chap.
44, in Migne (ed.), Patrologia Latina,Vol. 217, cols. 885A–B.
23
Liguori op. cit., p. 38.
24
Alphonse di Liguori, Besuchungen des Allerheiligsten Sacraments, translated from
the Italian (Augsburg and Innsbruck, 1769), p. 12.

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447

ious opposing doctrines assumed the presence of a director of conscience who interpreted the laws of the Church and applied them to
specific cases and individuals. We should therefore look at Liguori’s Theologia Moralis as the point at which Liguori tries to integrate his practice of ethics into the institutional and sacramental structures of the
Catholic Church.
Liguori’s historical significance is to be seen in the fact that he helped
Catholic moral theology overcome one of its greatest intellectual dilemmas. By the end of the seventeenth century, Catholic moral theologians
had reached an intellectual impasse over questions relating to human
moral freedom.They were caught between the moralists’ general desire
to formulate universal standards for action that, should they accord too
much freedom to the individual, might open the door to anarchy, and
the opposing fear that too strong an emphasis on moral pessimism
would look disconcertingly like the Calvinistic Augustinianism affirmed
at the Synod of Dort and which would leave little role for the sacraments in reforming sinners. The locus for this dilemma was to be found
in discussions over the probabilism.
The doctrine of probabilism, formulated in 1577 by the Spanish Dominican Bartolomé de Medina (1527/28–1580), held,“If an opinion is
probable, it is allowed to be followed, even if the opposing opinion be
more probable.”25 Probability, in this case, refers to the likelihood that a
particular interpretation of the moral law was valid or not. By the midseventeenth century, probabilism as a teaching had become associated
mostly with the Society of Jesus (even though the connection was
not as monolithic as opponents of both the Society and the doctrine
claimed), especially after the publication of Pascal’s Lettres Provinciales
(1656).26 Pascal’s attack was a rhetorical victory but did not in fact destroy the justifications for probabilism in the eyes of Catholic theologians.27 Probabilism risked falling into “laxism,” a position its opponents
accused of twisting the moral law to such an extent as to justify practically any behavior. Genuine laxism, where it was employed, was above
all practical, since the goal was to administer the sacraments to many.
25
“Si est opinio probabilis, licitum est eam sequi, licet opposita probabilior sit.” Commentary on the Summa of St.Thomas Aquinas, quoted in John Mahoney, The Making of
Moral Theology (Oxford, 1987), pp. 135–143.
26
For a full account of probabilism, see Th. Deman,“Probabilisme,” in Dictionnaire de
Théologie Catholique, Vol. XIII, Part I (Paris, 1936), cols. 417–619. Albert R. Jonson and
Stephen Toulmin, The Abuse of Casuistry. A History of Moral Reasoning (Berkeley and
Los Angeles, 1988).
27
Jonson and Toulmin, op. cit., p. 171.

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

From a pastoral perspective, the concern of the laxist confessor was
generally not with the spiritually elite, but with those who needed the
help of the Church for moral improvement.28
Theologians opposed to probabilism developed the (confusingly
named) doctrine of probabiliorism, which derived from the Latin comparative meaning “more probable.” Probabiliorism held that given competing opinions as to the existence of a (moral) law, the more probable
opinion had to be followed. Probabiliorism was a rigorist response to
probabilism. However, a third, even more rigorous strain was taught by
many Jansenists and came to be known as tutiorism (from the Latin for
“safer”). Tutiorism held that regardless of probability for or against the
existence of a moral law, the safest—and hence most rigorous—route
was always to be followed.29 The Jansenist position thus placed the sacraments at the end of a chain of rigorous self-examination and moral
purification. The basis for this position can be found in the Jansenist rejection of frequent communion. They advocated instead a restricted
communication and alleged that this had been the practice of the early
Church. Innocent XI had condemned laxism in 1679, while Alexander
VIII had condemned tutiorism in 1690.The end of the seventeenth century, therefore, found the institutional Church caught between two tendencies in moral theology, neither of which alone could satisfy both
Augustinian notions of grace and Catholic claims of universalism. Given
that the partisans of these two positions were firmly entrenched, it can
be seen that Catholic moral theology was in a state of crisis by the
end of the seventeenth century.30 It is in this context of a crisis in
28
Critics of casuistry were especially scandalized by its application in favor of the
wealthy and highborn. For example, the king would be absolved of his sins in keeping a
mistress so that he could participate in the Eucharist, only to “relapse” the following
week. In making their case for a reconsideration of casuistry, Jonson and Toulmin argue
that,“on the one hand,if it were true that seventeenth-century French Jesuits were unduly
tender toward those of their penitents who were wealthy or highborn, then Pascal was
right to criticize them for their partiality. But if that were the only issue raised by his
polemic,his criticism would only have applied to misuse of the case method in ethics and
would have had no general relevance to casuistry or case ethics as a whole. On the other
hand, the educated public of Pascal’s own time read The Provincial Letters as discrediting not just bad casuistry but all casuistry; as they saw matters, the distinction between
‘good’ and ‘bad’ was a distinction without a difference,” Ibid., p. 15. See also p. 234. While
the high casuistry of seventeenth-century court confessors favored the powerful, Liguori
turned the system on its head to benefit the poor.
29
“In dubiis tutior via est elegenda”—In cases of doubt, the safer path is to be chosen.
30
For a lengthy, albeit partisan, treatment of Catholic moral theology in this period, see
Ignaz von Döllinger and F. H. Reusch, Geschichte der Moralstreitigkeiten in der römisch-

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Catholic moral theology that the German theologian Eusebius Amort
(1692–1775), an Augustinian Canon Regular from the cloister of Polling
in Upper Bavaria, formulated a creative compromise centered on the
concept of “equiprobabilism.”31 Amort opened a door though which the
pragmatically-minded Liguori would soon walk,32 and thereby provided
the institutional Church with an intellectual framework for its moral
theology.33
katholischen Kirche seit dem sechzehnten Jahrhundert mit Beiträgen zur Geschichte
und Charakteristik des Jesuitenordens (2 vols.; Nördlingen, 1889).
31
On Amort, see Roderick Hindery, The Disinterested love of God according to Eusebius Amort, C.R.L.(1692–1775) (Rome,1962);Otto Schaffner,Eusebius Amort (1692–1775)
als Moraltheologe (Paderborn, 1963); Richard Van Dülmen, Propst Franziskus Töpsl
(1711–1796) und das Augustiner-Chorherrenstift Polling (Kallmünz, 1967).
32
The philosophical and theological connection between Amort and Liguori has left at
least one physical trace: a letter from Liguori to Amort concerning the doctrine of probabilism. In 1763 Liguori wrote to Amort, “In your theology it is clearly demonstrated
from both reason and authority . . . that it is allowed to follow an opinion equally or almost equally probable . . . ,” and he later calls the Bavarian theologian “my teacher.” On its
own, this letter would hardly constitute definitive proof connecting Amort’s moral theology with that of Alphonsus de Liguori. It is in fact true that, as far as we know, Amort did
not reply to Liguori’s letter. In their History of Moral Controversies, Ignaz von Döllinger
and F. H. Reusch argued that Amort was more interested in defeating probabilists than
probabiliorists (that is, in attacking laxism rather than rigorism). Indeed, the content of
Liguori’s letter deals mostly with personalities and alliances in the insider’s world of
church polemic.Nevertheless,Liguori’s praise of Amort should lead us to consider Amort’s
importance in the modernization of Catholic theology.The letter is reproduced and translated in J.Friedrich,Beiträge zur Kirchengeschichte des 18.Jahrhunderts aus dem handschriften Nachlass des regulierten Chorrherrn Eusebius Amort (Munich, 1876).
Friedrich was an Old Catholic and a friend of Döllinger.
33
While there is not enough space here to go into detail, suffice it to say that Amort’s
work provided an essential philosophical and theological defense of the Catholic principle upon which probabilism was based. It could be said that the official Church needed
to push the camel of probabilism through the needle’s eye of rigorism. By navigating a narrow path between rigorism and laxism, Amort—who tended toward rigorism—provided
the essential concepts that Liguori would subsequently develop in his epoch-making
Moral Theology. The two theologians represent opposite ends of an axis; yet Amort’s
achievement was to provide a defense of the underlying elements of a baroque Catholicism in transition.Eusebius Amort’s reinvigoration of Catholic moral theology grew out of
his engagement (and partial confrontation) with the so-called French school of spirituality. Amort looked to this tradition as a way out of an intellectual impasse brought about
by the conflict between rigorism and laxism. The aspect of the French school of spirituality that Amort contended with evolved from practical desires to reform the clergy. As a
tradition of spirituality, it combined Rhenish and Netherlandish theocentric mysticism
with Christocentric Mediterranean asceticism. It was given its decisive shape by Cardinal
Pierre de Bérulle, founder of the Oratory of Jesus Christ. As a monk concerned with the
education of the clergy and the eradication of popular superstition, Amort drew on this
vital source of theologizing and philosophizing. It was a tradition still vying to fulfill the

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

Liguori’s first foray into the field consisted of a reissued edition of
the Jesuit Hermann Busenbaum’s (1600–1668) Medulla Theologiae
Moralis [The Marrow of Moral Theology]. The first edition consisted
mostly of annotations to Busenbaum’s work. Over the subsequent eight
editions Liguori added and expanded to such an extent that the work
can really be considered his own, with the original Medulla merely providing the basic structure of the text. Over the course of his career,
Liguori went from maintaining probabiliorist (rigorist) positions,to simple probabilism and finally settling on equiprobabilism.34
Liguori’s treatise on conscience holds the key to his moral system,
and is in fact his most original contribution to Busenbaum’s Medulla.
Simply put, conscience is “a judgment or a practical verdict of reason,
Tridentine spirit of clerical education, but also at odds with the world-embracing methods of the Jesuit order.Amort did not adopt wholeheartedly the program of the French reformers, however, for as much as he was inspired by their work, he also was very critical
of their tendency to fall into rigorist, Jansenist positions. Amort’s eclectic theology (as he
himself called it) therefore tried to mediate the tensions inherent in the French school. His
endeavor is characteristic of the early Catholic Enlightenment as he tried to escape the
exclusionist rigorism of the Jansenists while seriously engaging a larger project for the Christianization of the world. On Bérulle and the Oratory, see Charles E. Williams, The French
Oratorians and Absolutism, 1611–1641 (“American University Studies,”Series IX,Vol. 47
[New York, 1989]). The study of the “French school of spirituality” owes most to the pioneering work of the French scholar Henri Bremond (1865–1933), whose eleven-volume
Histoire littéraire du sentiment religieux en France (1915–1932) revived interest in the
life and writings of many seventeenth-century French spiritual writers.
34
Liguori published over one hundred works in his own lifetime,to which must be added
the later vulgarizations, collected editions, and popular tracts published after his death and
especially in the wake of his canonization and then elevation to the status of “doctor of the
Church.” His writings on the question of probabilism took shape over the course of
polemics with rigorist theologians.Therefore,it is difficult to point to the definitive text for
Liguori’s ideas on probabilism and equiprobabilism. The Dictionnaire de Théologie
Catholique,in its useful and quite literally hagiographical article on Liguori,divides the theologian’s work on this question into three periods: (1) 1749–1762: abandoning the probabiliorist doctrines of his teachers, Liguori defends probabilism tempered by a certain
hesitation which is motivated by the more or less justified reproach of laxism made by opponents; (2) 1762–1774: the system of the author is expressed by equiprobabilism which
allows him to get around the difficult opinions (i.e., of moral questions); (3) 1774–1787: a
period in which the doctor, according to the Dictionnaire, was in “tranquil possession of
the truth”and could therefore present his doctrine without having to resort to polemic.His
“dissertation on the Moderate Use of Probable Opinion,” therefore, underwent several
redactions and appeared separately as well as in different forms in the Theologia Moralis.
Liguori’s letter to Amort in which he calls the Bavarian theologian “my teacher” in April,
1763, confirms this periodization and also demonstrates how the equiprobabilism developed by Amort provided the solution to Liguori’s probabilistic dilemma.

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by which we judge what to do here and now to do good and avoid evil.”
He emphasizes the practical and immediate nature of conscience,which
is very different from the knowledge of general principles like “obey
God,” or “Do unto others what you would have done unto you.”35 Conscience as defined by Liguori is that faculty of reason which we apply
to specific cases, and it is according to our conscience by which we are
finally judged. This raises the question of our responsibility for false
judgments,or “erroneous conscience.”For Liguori,the question is whether
particular errors are defeatable or not. It is always a sin to act according
to conscience that is erroneous, even if one does not follow its judgment: in other words, bad reasons for a good act are not enough, nor indeed are bad reasons for not committing an evil act.36
On the other hand—and this is the real heart of the matter—honest
errors of the conscience do not constitute sin. Liguori states:
He who has an invincibly erroneous conscience and acts according to it not
only does not sin; moreover he is obligated to follow it. The reason is that
even if the action in itself is not right, the operation of the conscience however is right. One is held to act according to the conscience, which is the immediate rule [for action, as opposed to laws, the external rules for action], if
it suggests to act thus.37

Moreover, not only is there no sin in operating with an invincibly erroneous conscience; it may actually be meritorious. It suffices that one be
directed by reason and prudence, acting out of good faith and charity.38
This proposition would of course scandalize Jansenists; yet it should be
noted that Liguori’s contention here is speculative and follows logically
35
Liguori, Theologia Moralis, ed. Le Noir (Paris, 1872), Lib. I. Tr. 1, cap. 1, §2:“Conscientia definitur sic: Est judicium, seu dictamen practicum rationis, quo judicamus quid
hic et nunc agendum ut bonum, aut vitandum ut malum. Dicitur autem conscientia
dictamen practicum, ad differentiam synderesis, quae est cognito speculativa principiorum universalium ad bene vivendum,scilicet:Deus est colendus: Quod tibi non vis, alteri
ne feceris.” The Redemptorist scholar Louis Vereecke notes that the question here is not
that of the “habitual conscience,”or synderesis.See Louis Vereecke,C.SS.R.,“La conscience
selon Saint Alphonse de Liguori,” in De Guillaume d’Ockham à Saint Alphonse de
Liguori [Reprinted from Studia Moralia, 21 (1983)], p. 554. Synderesis was a technical
term of medieval scholastics having to do with innate human ability to know principles
of moral action. Scholastic theologians differed whether the synderesis was a property of
the intellect or will. See Heike Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology. Gabriel Biel
and Late Medieval Nominalism (Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1963), p. 65.
36
Liguori, Theologia Moralis, Lib. I. Tr. 1, cap. 1, §4, p. 7.
37
Ibid., §5, p. 7.
38
Ibid., §6, p. 7.

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from his general principle of the inherent human capability to act as a
moral creature. By placing the ultimate test of sin and merit in the act of
conscience, Liguori thus avoids the metaphysical difficulty implied by
the need to submit to absolute laws, especially difficult when those
laws are either hard to discern or difficult to fulfill.
This latter insistence—of the Jansenists, but also of Calvin and of Augustinian rigorism more generally—was grounded in a morality that focused on the absolute obligation of the law imposed by an external
legislator to the disadvantage of the individual human agent.39 It was
this Augustinian despair at human inability to follow the law which led
Luther to proclaim that we are sinful and justified at the same time
(simul peccator et iustus). The same strain of Augustinianism was at
play in the putative Jansenist denial of sufficient grace.40 Liguori insisted
on the possibility for meritorious action in spite of human weakness.
Despite the potential for scandal, Liguori does not here maintain a laxist position. The question of invincible ignorance is speculative and belongs to a type of theodicy. In practice, Liguori also insists that we have
the moral obligation to try to overcome doubt and ignorance. Charity
demands that we search for the truth, and God’s justice guarantees that
we are able to do that by the light of natural reason.
The main question for the moral theologian, as for the confessor, was
how to faithfully resolve cases of doubt. Liguori distinguishes between
speculative doubt and practical doubt. Speculative doubts are theoretical: whether painting on holy days is right or wrong or whether some
war is just or not. Practical doubts involve actual situations: may I paint
on this holy day, may I fight in this war?41 This distinction is important,
because even where the law (i.e.,the moral law,whether found in Scripture or in the rules of the Church) is clear on general principles, it is the
individual case that counts. And as soon as we have a doubtful conscience we are required to resolve our doubts before acting. Liguori
39
See in particular Vereecke,“L’Obligation Morale selon Guillaume d’Ockham,” in De
Guillaume d’Ockham à Saint Alphonse de Liguori [Reprinted from La Vie Spirituelle,
Supplément, n. 45 (1968), 123–143]. See also Mahoney, op. cit.
40
The doctrine of sufficient grace held that good works, while not of themselves
enough to merit our eternal salvation, were completed by the grace of God. The contrary
doctrine, that grace was either efficient or totally withheld, argued instead that grace
alone justified us. Liguori and others would argue that if there were no sufficient grace,
then God’s law requiring prayer, good work, etc., was either unjust or useless.
41
Liguori, Theologia Moralis, Lib. I. Tr. 1, cap. 2, §21, p. 12.

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453

states that “it is never allowed to operate with a practically doubtful
conscience; and he who acts in such a state sins.”42 If you doubt whether
an act is a mortal sin, you sin mortally anyway if you act on this conscience. In other words, the obligation is to resolve the doubt—this is
why the question of invincible ignorance is important because sin and
virtue consist in intentions.
The principle of probabilism then comes into play. Probabilism does
not describe the attitude of the agent toward his or her actions (i.e.,
“This is probably allowed”) but rather the attitude toward opinions—
yet one must be convinced of the rectitude of the position followed. If
doubts cannot be resolved by one’s own thinking, then one may consult others. Therefore, Liguori announces,
He who is in a state of practical doubt concerning some action ought first to
put this doubt aside by certain principles or reflection on the honesty of this
action according to [the principles] described in the Dissertation on the Use
of Probable Opinions [see below]. If by this method a person can sufficiently establish a certain conscience about a practical action, he may then
act. If however this method is not sufficient ( perhaps because he is unsophisticated) he can consult the opinion of a curate, a confessor, or a pious
and learned man and act accordingly. He who is truly doubtful and then considers all arguments is free of doubt, since it may well be that he has set aside
doubt by the reflections of others and may thus execute an action.Therefore
if he is unaware of the evil of this action, that ignorance is involuntary. . . .43

Therefore, if all personal efforts to resolve doubt are ineffective, then
one may turn to outside authorities. Yet even these may be in conflict.
Liguori had already come to reject the simple probabilistic argument
that as long as an opinion was probable, one may follow it. This was
where Liguori applied the concept of equiprobabilism that he had borrowed from the German theologian Eusbius Amort. Equiprobabilism assumed that the agent had made good-faith efforts to resolve all doubts
in the spirit of charity—and was therefore allowed to choose the opinion for liberty.44 The overriding principle behind this argument is the
general rule Liguori repeats throughout the remainder of the treatise:
lex dubia non obligat (a doubtful law does not oblige).
Ibid., §22, p. 12.
Ibid., Tr. 2, cap. 1, §24, p. 13.
44
By contrast the tutiorist would recommend that the more stringent path be chosen
anyway, even if an equally probable case could be made for a more permissive course of
action.
42

43

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

Liguori addresses these principles in the “Dissertation on the Moderate Use of Probable Opinions,” a work appended to the “Treatise on
Conscience” in the Theologia Moralis.45 He starts by denying laxist principles: “If an opinion which stands for the law seems certainly more
probable, then it is to be entirely followed, nor may we embrace the opposite opinion which stands for liberty.”46 We are obliged to seek after
the truth in cases of doubt, and we may not choose liberty if the opinion for law is more probable, because this is also more likely to be true.
Liguori insists that it is possible for us to have moral certainty about the
honesty of our actions, if not directly then by reflection.47 Probability
alone does not suffice—even in the case of equally probable opinions.
It is required instead that we have moral certainty in order to act.48 We
cannot rest in a state of doubt, but must try to resolve it. Liguori thus
postulates a third rule, namely:
If two opinions are equiprobable, the opinion in favor of liberty enjoys a
probability equal to that in favor of the law, and by consequence the existence of the law that prohibits an action is in doubt. One cannot say that the
law is sufficiently promulgated. If it is not sufficiently promulgated, it does
not oblige. An uncertain law does not impose a certain obligation.49

Liguori thereby transfers doubt from the individual conscience to the
status of the law. He does not do this lightly, but is firmly convinced that
if one acts in the spirit of charity and carefully examines doubtful cases,
one will either resolve the doubt in one direction or the other, or will
come to the conclusion that the law is not clear.
This is where Liguori disagrees with probabiliorists (among whom
were his original teachers): Liguori presumes human liberty. The principle that we may not act in a state of doubt does not allow him to
merely allow the preference for liberty over that for law; instead, it must
be one or the other. On this point Liguori specifically attacks the “tutiorist”position.The proclamation that “in dubiis tutior via est elegenda”
(in cases of doubt, the safer path is to be chosen) necessarily implies
that one does not have moral certainty.50 Rather than acting, we should
seek to resolve our doubts, either by reflection or by seeking outside
opinion. If, in fact, the morality of an action has to do with one’s attitude
45
For the multiple and varying redactions of this treatise over the course of Liguori’s career, see footnote 34 above.
46
Liguori, Theologia Moralis, lib. I, tract. I., cap. iii, t. I, §56, p. 23.
47
Ibid., §57, p. 24.
48
Ibid., §58, p. 24.
49
Ibid., §59, p. 24.
50
Ibid., §68, p. 31.

BY MICHAEL PRINTY

455

toward the law and obligation, there is no moral aspect to following
an uncertain law even if it turns out to be right. Acting merely because following a law seems safer is really acting indifferently—indeed
slavishly.
Liguori articulates his position in favor of liberty using the arguments
of the Dominican Giovanni Patuzzi (1700–1769) as a foil. Patuzzi, Liguori
notes, relies on the authority of St. Thomas in his claim that the eternal
law “bears complete obligation for eternity before creatures hear and
know the law.” From this Patuzzi concludes that the law is promulgated
in time before the creation of humans.51 Patuzzi’s contention that the
law is “in possession,”as the jurists say, stems from the idea that law precedes liberty:
The natural law, Father Patuzzi says, is promulgated in habitu when God creates the soul and pours it in the body because at that time he impresses it
with the light of reason. Patuzzi infers from this that man is bound to the law
from his conception, for God promulgates the law when he impresses it in
the soul.52

Patuzzi claims the authority of Thomas, who says that God promulgates
the eternal law unto himself for eternity,and therefore the law is already
in possession when human souls are created.In response,Liguori quotes
authorities to the effect that, while it is true that God promulgates the
law to himself unto eternity, the law is promulgated to man once he
hears it. More is at stake, of course, than interpretations of Aquinas.
Rather, the question is an ontological one about the nature of the human soul, reason, and the relationship of these two concepts to natural
and divine law. The hinge is the issue of promulgation: “Therefore,”
states Liguori,“natural law is not promulgated to men unless it appears
to the use of his reason. From this it ought to be concluded that strictly
speaking, it is not law which is infused into the soul, but the light by
which the law will be known.”53
Patuzzi’s next point is that certain general laws are promulgated
clearly,and no one doubts their existence.Instead,the question is whether
a particular case applies to a general prohibition. In this case, it cannot
be said that there is doubt about the existence of the law, and the implication is that it should be followed even if one has doubt about its applicability in a particular case. Liguori responds that given equally
probable opinions about the applicability,it can still be said that the law
Ibid., §72, p. 37.
Ibid., §73, p. 39.
53
Ibid., p. 40.

51

52

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

is not sufficiently promulgated with respect to the particular case. Usury,
for example,is obviously banned.But does one know whether it applies
to a specific contract? If it is doubtful in this case,then it does not oblige
in this case. The principle of probability is applied to specifics.54 This
conclusion is the subject of Liguori’s second corollary: “An uncertain
law cannot lead to a certain obligation because human liberty is anterior to the law.”55 It is the positive assertion of the priority of liberty—
not just the allowance of it—that make Liguori’s moral theology an
Enlightenment moral theology, based as it is on an optimistic philosophical anthropology. While the opinion in favor of liberty had long
been defended by the Jesuit order (among others)—indeed, it was the
perceived abuse of such liberty that was the main target of Jansenist
critique—the probabilism and laxism of seventeenth-century moral
theology relied specifically on the power and glory of the Church as a
treasury of grace. In the eyes of its critics, laxism in particular was seen
as a way for the wealthy and powerful to get around the moral strictures that were supposed to hold for all Christians.56 The tenacious defense of probabilism (certainly by Jesuits, but not exclusively) was in
fact a principled defense of the power of the Church to direct all sinners back toward God, not of the abuse of this power.57 Liguori, while
certainly not denying the powers of the Church, shifts the center of
gravity by systematizing his moral system around a Thomistic conception of the human being as the image of God in full possession of liberty. Liguori cites the classical Calvinist quotation of St. Paul, that
whatsoever is not done of faith is sin. Yet instead of using this to mean
that all acts done before grace are sin, Liguori, by making liberty essential to our nature, reverses the presumption. Faith obliges us to determine the law, but to slavishly follow uncertain laws is to live in servile
fear, not in faith.
Objections to probabilism were often based on the fear that sinners
would be tempted to plead ignorance of the law for actions that could
be avoided. Liguori responds to this concern by repeating the warning
that since sin is a matter of will—while ignorance of the law may excuse, intentional ignorance is a sin—one is obliged to try to know the
Ibid., §74, p. 41.
“Alterum Corollarium: Lex incerta non potest certam obligationem inducere, quia hominis libertas anterius ad legis obligationem possidet.”
56
Jonson and Toulmin, op. cit., p. 15.
57
In this, the defense of probabilism was not unlike the principled defense of indulgences by Catholic theologians.
54

55

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457

law.58 Yet this assertion immediately leads to the problem of how to resolve questionable cases, and in this section Liguori tries to establish
that human liberty should be the guiding principle. This follows from
God’s nature as a wise legislator; although we cannot say that one idea
or action preceded another in God’s mind—the human category of
temporality can never be applied to the eternal—the priority of reason
and nature do argue for the primacy of liberty:
By the priority of reason or nature, man was in the divine mind before the
law was contemplated. For a legislator considers his subjects according to
their nature and status and after that considers which appropriate laws ought
to be imposed . . . and thus first God considered man, and then he considered the laws by which he was to be bound. Example: God decreed for eternity that homicide is forbidden. According to reason, he must first conceive
of humans—who are able to kill one another—and then give them the precept forbidding them to kill one another.59

The question comes back to one of promulgation of the law. Patuzzi
asks,“is man born free and independent?”“Not at all,” answers Liguori:
He is born subject to divine power, and consequently is obliged to obey all
precepts which God imposes on him. But for man to be thus bound by precepts, it is required that they be promulgated to him and made known by the
light of reason. But as soon as a precept is not manifested to him, the liberty
given to him by God is in possession, since it is certain, and an uncertain precept cannot bind. . . . It is false what my adversaries say,that man may not act
at all unless he knows with certainty that something is permitted by God.
But if this were true,then the divine law would not need to be promulgated,but
it would be that God would declare everything that we were able to do.
But God did not do this. . . . First God created man free, of his good will giving him liberty . . . and afterward God gave man mandates he was to keep.60

We are indeed obliged to conform to divine will, Liguori argues, but this
does not necessarily mean that all possible moral acts have been expressly designated. It suffices that we always desire the common good,
even if we cannot know what God wills in every particular. We do
know, however, that God wills us to try to determine the truth; yet since
God does not demand the impossible, it must be true that we have the
power to discover the law.61

Liguori, Theologia Moralis, lib. I, tract. I., cap. iii, t. I, §76, p. 43.
Ibid., §77, p. 43f.
60
Ibid., p. 44.
61
Ibid., §78, p. 45.

58

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

Liguori revisits the question of practice—for indeed, his is a pragmatic moral theology. He states:
where it is a question of removing a penitent from the danger of formal sin,
the confessor generally ought to, in the spirit of Christian prudence, suggest
the use of the liberal opinion. Yet where the use of liberal opinion brings
nearer the danger of formal sin, then it is better that the confessor . . . as a
doctor of souls, use the safer opinion which will preserve the penitent and
lead him into a state of grace. But I do not know how in good conscience it
can be taught that when the penitent could be led to absolution by the confessor, it could be denied.62

Can one say that it is better to choose the “safer” route when that actually means that one would deny absolution—even if the opinions for
and against are equally valid?, Liguori asks. Liguori’s concern is that in
their zeal, rigorist confessors and theologians threatened to condemn
unnecessarily, and would deprive people of the succor of the Church
and its sacraments.
By way of conclusion, we can take up the medical analogy offered by
an anonymous French rigorist.63 This author argues that a doctor would
be remiss if he prescribed a “probable” treatment instead of the safest
one.The worst should be feared when faced with disease, and the most
thorough and rigorous remedy pursued, even if the disease may not be
as threatening as imagined. The probabilists, argues this rigorist, act like
poor doctors prescribing some untried and experimental medicine instead of a sure one. The rigorists fear that the laxists will advise people
to do acts that may really be sinful. Strict Jansenists were worried about
the scandal and danger of accepting communion with the stain of sin.
Liguori and the other probabilists see an entirely different relationship
between confession and communion. Liguori favors a more gentle approach in the confessional. Only then can the believer receive the Eucharist, the true “medicine” of the soul on account of the fact that it
awakens piety. Hence Liguori was anxious to prove that a wider liberty
in interpreting the “moral law”is needed to better care for souls. He also
therefore must believe that the moral law can be known, and that the
Church has some power to apply it. This is not to say that Liguori and
his followers really believe that the Church has the power to send
people to heaven—even the indulgence sellers of Luther’s time did not
claim that. God’s grace is always needed, but Liguori argues that the
Ibid., §84, p. 54.
Anon., Traité du Dogme du Probabilisme (Rheims, 1731).

62

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459

Church needs to prepare the believer for that grace, and can help the
believer toward the necessary contrition.
Liguori’s work in the Theologia Moralis is based on reliance on individual conscience within the economy of sacraments and salvation. By
focusing on conscience, Liguori linked the metaphysical question of
salvation with the practical-social one of behavior. In this sense it is
addressed to theologians and priests as gatekeepers of the Church.
Liguori’s work is directed to the problem of fortifying and building up
the individual conscience. Religion and its rituals serve to bolster conscience, and Liguori’s popularity derived from his efforts to bring his
religion to more people. His convictions arose from practical pastoral
work. To Liguori, the common people were in need of religion and
moral improvement.64 Their supposed immorality was not always their
fault, and was instead due to the fact that they had been deprived the
succor of religion. The rigorists (as gatekeepers) were therefore not
only intellectually wrong;they were actively depriving the marginalized
of their only hope for salvation, according to Liguori. For Liguori, salvation was not a question of merely following law and rules. By insisting that sin and merit (damnation and salvation) occurred as a result of
our own judgment of conscience, Liguori inextricably linked the temporal and spiritual world, and also assured that the philosophical and
naturalistic ethics which underpinned the legitimacy of the modern
state would be in conflict with the religious ethics of ultramontane Catholicism.

4. From Moral Theology to Popular Catholicism

It would be impossible to outline here in any detailed fashion the
ways in which Liguori’s moral theology was introduced into the teaching and ministerial institutions of the Church. By way of conclusion, I
would like only to point to the way in which contentious issues of
eighteenth-century Catholic reform and the Catholic Enlightenment were
framed by the intellectual and theological struggle over Jansenism. If, as
I noted at the beginning of this essay, there were firm links between the
Catholic reformers’ program of renewal and so-called “late” Jansenism,
so too did the Church’s institutional embrace of popular Catholic practice remain in debt to the polemic against Jansenism and other forms of
Catholic moral rigorism. However, a proper appreciation for Ligouri’s
Rey-Mermet, St.Alphonsus Liguori.Tireless Worker for the Most Abandoned.

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THE INTELLECTUAL ORIGINS OF POPULAR CATHOLICISM: CATHOLIC MORAL THEOLOGY

moral theology shows that behind the condemnation of Jansenist rigorism lay a consistent positive evaluation of human moral ability.
For a prominent example of the ways in which Catholic reformism
inspired by late-Jansenism and the papal embrace of popular religious
practices came into open conflict, one would need to look no farther
than the Bull Auctorem fidei,which was issued in 1794 to condemn the
publication of the Acts and Decrees of the Synod of Pistoia. The Synod
of Pistoia was convoked in 1786 by Scipione Ricci, Bishop of Pistoia
and Prato, under the patronage of Archduke Leopold of Tuscany. The
immediate goals of Ricci’s synodal declaration were to reform the morals
and religious practice of the populace by limiting “superstitious” devotions (notably those to the Virgin Mary and the Sacred Heart of Jesus),
introducing the vernacular into liturgies, controlling and limiting the
regular clergy and religious orders, and so forth.65 In the face of popular
protest, Ricci resigned his see on June 2, 1791. His successor abrogated
the Synod’s statutes in 1792.66 The papal condemnation, therefore, was
not directly addressed to actions in Pistoia. Rather, it was an attempt to
keep other bishops from using these decrees for their own ends, especially in light of the crisis of the Civil Constitution of the Clergy in
France.67 In any case, the importance of the constitution Auctorem fidei
lies not in its immediate bearing upon ecclesiastical affairs in Tuscany,
but in the fact that the papacy was able to combine in one document a
condemnation of episcopal independence from Rome and the theology
of the reformists.68
Auctorem fidei summarized and consummated a century of theological controversy, and it also united the revolution in moral theology that
has been the subject of this essay with an assertion of ecclesiastical au65
Most of these goals were of course expressed by the Council of Trent as well. Yet the
manner in which they were to be carried out by Ricci’s program was decidedly of the era
of eighteenth-century reform Catholicism and its statist bias.
66
Bolton, op. cit., p. 135.
67
Bolton suggests that the immediate occasion for the condemnation was the imminent publication of the Acts and Decrees of the Synod of Pistoia in Spain. Ibid.
68
The term “reformists”in the context of Catholic theology and politics of the eighteenthcentury loosely groups together those interested in doctrinal as well as institutional
change. While “reform” is useful shorthand, it is also a very slippery term. In the broadest
sense, Amort and Liguori are both reformists. Over the course of the eighteenth century,
theological politics had become so polarized and implicated in the institutional contest
between the hierarchical Church and modern states that most reformists felt compelled
to choose one side or the other. In the case of Pistoia, the reformists may be seen as precursors to the Liberal Catholics of the nineteenth century, and therefore deeply disturbed
by the sensualist religiosity of ultramontane popular piety.

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thority on the part of the papacy. The Pistoian decrees, in the eyes of
the papacy, recapitulated the central Augustinian tenets of Jansenist
moral theology.69 While Ricci and his supporters did not share the same
absolute pessimism as the men and women of Port Royal, the decrees
of the synod nevertheless relied on the moderate Augustinian anthropology that underpinned Catholic reformism, and which Liguori had
gone to such great pains to refute.As the Decrees state—after having asserted that by reason of dominant cupidity all acts done before grace
are sinful—“these maxims may seem hard on the pride of man and to
the Philosophy of the age; but they are the truths which Jesus Christ
taught us, and which have been transmitted by the Councils and the
Fathers.”70
Liguori and his supporters saw the future of Catholicism leading in
the opposite direction: as I argued above with respect to Liguori’s writings, ultramontane Catholicism put the power of sacraments at the center of ethical life, and it based its moral systems on the conviction that
ethical virtue and religious devotion went hand in hand. While Liguori’s
concern was ultimately the reformation of behavior, this centering of
the sacraments also designated the approach of official Catholicism
toward the religious sensibilities of the masses.If such an orientation resulted in the loss of the intellectual and moral support of the educated
middle classes, this seemed a price the papacy was willing to pay. With
the hierarchical Church’s territorial, legal, and political privileges progressively under attack by the centralizing bureaucratic state and a skeptical and scandalized bourgeoisie, the papacy cut its losses and sought
its support in the popular religion of the European masses. It did this
by retooling an inherited scholastic philosophy to meet the needs of a
new sociological and intellectual dispensation. The consequences of
this revolution were profound: of all the major Christian churches,
Catholicism was best able to preserve within its institutional fold the
broad religious revival of the nineteenth century—in some ways a dynamic still at work today in the international Catholic Church. In the
age of “democratic revolutions,” Catholic moral theology assured a place
for itself by embracing a “demotic” revolution of its own. In this moral
and theological revolution consisted the intellectual origins of the popular Catholicism that was to prove so vigorous in the nineteenth century.

69
See also, briefly, Owen Chadwick, The Popes and European Revolution (Oxford,
1981), p. 572.
70
Actes et Décrets du Concile Diocésain de Pistoie (Paris, 1789), p. 247.

FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:
THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF
BISHOP PETER AMIGO OF SOUTHWARK
BY

FREDERICK HALE*

For several decades historians, literary scholars, and others have investigated a relatively wide spectrum of British responses to and involvement in the Spanish Civil War of 1936–1939. A cross-section of
their production illustrates the breadth of that topic. Valentine Cunningham, among others, has examined how numerous English littérateurs treated the war.1 P. M. Heaton has chronicled Welsh efforts to
break blockades of wartime shipping to Spain.2 Bill Alexander has told
the story of British military volunteers in that country.3 Anthony
Aldgate has probed the shaping of the visual image of the Spanish Civil
War in British newsreels.4 Tom Buchanan has treated meticulously the
contours of Labour’s responses to the war.5 Jill Edwards has analyzed
the British policy of non-intervention.6 Frederick Hale has explored the
efforts of the eminent Jesuit editor Joseph Keating to rally British
Catholics for the support of Francisco Franco7 and how the erstwhile
pacifist Michael de la Bédoyère, editor of The Catholic Herald, underwent a fundamental change of mind from neutrality to enthusiastic advocacy of the Nationalist insurrection.8 Many of the findings of their
*Dr. Hale is a research fellow in the University of Stellenbosch.
1
Valentine Cunningham, Spanish Front. Writers on the Civil War (Oxford, 1986).
2
P. M. Heaton, Welsh Blockade Runners in the Spanish Civil War (Newport, 1985).
3
Bill Alexander, British Volunteers for Liberty, Spain 1936–1939 (London, 1982).
4
Anthony Aldgate, Cinema and History: British Newsreels and the Spanish Civil War
(London, 1979).
5
Tom Buchanan, The Spanish Civil War and the British Labour Movement (Cambridge, 1991).
6
Jill Edwards, The British Government and the Spanish Civil War, 1936–1939 (London, 1979).
7
Frederick Hale, “The Galician Lion of Judah versus the Red Antichrist: Francisco
Franco through British Jesuit Eyes,” Studia Historiae Ecclesiasticae, XXVI ( June, 2000).
34–55.
8
Frederick Hale, “From Pacifism to Neutrality to Advocacy of Francisco Franco: The

462

BY FREDERICK HALE

463

research have been synthesized in Buchanan’s highly useful Britain
and the Spanish Civil War.9
To be sure, the pertinent scholarship has progressed on an uneven
front, as one must expect which considering a broad phenomenon
which entailed many kinds of responses. While certain aspects have
thus been brightly illuminated, others remain tenebrous.Among the latter, Buchanan has identified those dealing with religion as “the leastresearched aspect of the British response to the Civil War.”10 Largely
overlooked in published scholarship is the crucial campaign of one of
England’s best-known Catholics during the 1930’s, Bishop Peter Amigo
of the Diocese of Southwark,to sway popular and denominational opinion in favor of the Nationalist cause and the conflicts which his endeavors in this regard engendered. It is my purpose in the present
article to examine in its historical context this eminent churchman’s response to the war and how it stimulated both public conflicts and private hostility involving fellow Catholics and Britons of other faiths. Part
of the significance of such an investigation obviously lies in the light it
sheds on ecclesiastical and popular attitudes toward the war, which at
the time was widely perceived in the United Kingdom and elsewhere in
Europe as a kairotic moment, the crux of an international crisis for
Christianity and Western civilization generally. It also further illuminates such matters as popular anti-Catholic sentiments, the relationship
between members of the Labour Party and Catholicism in England
(where a considerable number of Labour Party members, especially
those of Irish descent, were Catholics), fear of the bugbear of international communism, and related matters. To be sure, any attempt to
gauge the magnitude of the Amigo controversy and the impact he made
on his co-religionists must be impressionistic. The British Institute of
Public Opinion did not begin to measure attitudes toward the Spanish
Civil War until 1938, and its findings did not distinguish Catholics from
other people in the United Kingdom. Nevertheless, when viewed in historical context, the controversial efforts of this prominent bishop to
align his denominational fellows behind the Nationalist cause make
manifest the centrality of the factors just listed in the debate of the late
1930’s over the perceived crisis in which Catholicism found itself as its
future seemed to hang in the balance and Europe slid toward the bloodiest war in the history of the world.
Case of Michael de la Bédoyère,” The Chesterton Review, XXIX (Winter, 2004), 529–543.
9
Tom Buchanan, Britain and the Spanish Civil War (Cambridge, 1997).
10
Ibid., p. 228.

464 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

A consideration of Amigo’s strident position on the Spanish Civil
War, especially in 1936, also directly addresses a pivotal historiographical issue which lies at the juncture of religious, political, and military
history. Professor Paul Preston’s magisterial 1993 biography of Francisco Franco represents a major contribution to the historiography of
modern Spain and a minor addition to scholarly enquiry into AngloSpanish relations. With this hefty tome resting on decades of research,
he placed the profession squarely in his debt. It is indeed a monumental work from which all kinds of previously unpublished information
can be gleaned.In his unmasked hostility to Franco,Preston did not hesitate to challenge numerous myths which had beclouded previous
treatments of el Caudillo, whose image as the savior of Catholic Spain
had been carefully burnished for decades.11
Preston argues that within a few weeks after launching his insurgency in July, 1936, Franco began to exploit Christian symbolism to emphasize as a “propaganda ploy”the image of his campaign as primarily a
religious crusade. This stemmed largely from events in September,
1936. After diverting his forces from the assault on Madrid in order to
relieve the beleaguered Alcázar in Toledo, Franco toured that liberated
fortress, itself a national symbol, in a carefully orchestrated move which
made his name known internationally—in Preston’s words, “a name
which symbolized the Nationalist war effort.” Before the end of the
month the Bishop of Salamanca, Dr. Enrique Plá y Daniel, issued a
lengthy pastoral letter titled “The Two Cities,” in which he drew explicitly on the papal blessing which Pius XI had given exiled Spaniards in
Rome on September 14 distinguishing between the Christian heroism
of the Nationalists and the barbarism of the Republic. Using Augustine’s
notion of the worldly and the heavenly city, the Bishop of Salamanca
identified the former with Republican-held territory in Spain and the
latter with the Nationalist zone. The text of this pastoral letter, in which
apparently for the first time the term cruzada was used to describe the
Nationalist cause, was submitted to Franco for his approval before it
was published. In Preston’s words,“He not only approved it but adjusted
his own rhetoric subsequently to derive from it the maximum political
advantage.” The religious image thus came to the fore: “By latching
onto the idea of a religious crusade, Franco could protect himself not
just as the defender of his Spain but also as the defender of the universal faith. Leaving aside the gratifying boost to his own ego, such a
propaganda ploy could bring only massive benefit in terms of internaPaul Preston, Franco:A Biography (London, 1993).

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465

tional support for the rebel cause [italics mine].” Calling himself Jefe
del Estado (i.e., Chief of State), Franco meticulously groomed his persona as a hybrid savior of both political conservatism and the Catholic
Church in Spain. This was allegedly beneficial in terms of soliciting support on an international basis. In early October he began to cultivate a
close relationship with the Primate of Spain, Cardinal Isidro Gomá y
Tomás. Moreover, with the permission of the Bishop of Salamanca,
Franco established his headquarters at the Episcopal Palace in that city.
Again we quote Preston, who, without adducing any specific evidence,
asserts that although “religious ceremonial bored Franco almost more
than anything else,” he employed his new image pragmatically:“Apart
from any spiritual consolation it may have given him, his new found religiosity also reflected a realistic awareness of the immeasurable assistance which the endorsement of the Catholic Church could give him in
terms of clinching foreign and domestic support.”12
In the meantime, the pastoral letter was circulated abroad and, in Preston’s view, almost immediately bore fruit. Preston indicates that Franco’s
name became internationally known because of this in early October.
In the United Kingdom such Conservative Members of Parliament as Sir
Henry Page Croft of Bournemouth and the Scotsman Captain A.H.M.
Ramsay, who were already favorably disposed toward the Nationalists,
began to stress Franco’s specifically “Christian” campaign in addition to
depicting it as a popular, anti-communist movement.13
Preston’s intriguing theory must therefore be tested in terms of its
logic and assayed with the touchstone of pertinent evidence from English sources, one of the most obvious sets of which includes Amigo’s response to the war. On the surface, the theory seems cogent, especially
when one remembers that in England responses to the Spanish Civil
War in general were tendentious and heavily laden with propaganda.Indeed, it is readily demonstrable that by the autumn of 1936, when
Franco’s name began to appear frequently in both the British daily and
religious press, his campaign had a distinctly religious face in much of
the journalistic coverage of it. What is equally clear, however, is that religious factors in the conflict characterized many English perceptions
of the war even before those factors were associated with Franco, particularly with regard to the devastation of ecclesiastical property and
the violence that was being meted out against the clergy and members
of religious orders.
Ibid., pp. 184–189.
Ibid., p. 185.

12

13

466 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

Furthermore, the argument which Preston too briefly presents rests
on inconsistent evidence. Having conducted extensive research in primary material and read widely in previous historical studies of Franco
and the Spanish Civil War, he can readily document aspects of the creation of Franco’s Catholic image in Spain during the autumn of 1936.
When Preston turns to the United Kingdom, however, he ventures precariously out on thin ice. As indicated above, Preston builds part of his
case on the enthusiasm that such pro-Nationalist Tory Members of Parliament as A. H. M. Ramsay and Henry Page Croft showed for Franco as
a “Christian” warrior. For this he relies obliquely on the study Tory M.P.,
which the English socialist Simon Haxey published in 1939. This, however, is an entirely unsubstantiated mode of argumentation. In fact,
Haxey did not claim anywhere in that volume that either of the gentlemen in question or, for that matter, anyone else, was influenced by the
efforts of the Nationalists to put a Catholic face on their campaign in
1936. Indeed, there is no reference whatsoever to that dimension of the
Nationalist propaganda, which, in any case, would have been at best peripheral to the subject of Haxey’s book. The only mention that he
makes of religious factors influencing Ramsay’s and Croft’s support of
Franco is a very brief one in which he cites a statement by Ramsay in
February,1939,a few weeks before the end of the war,asserting that the
United Christian Front (a small nondenominational alliance of Anglican
and Nonconformist clergymen and laymen which had been founded in
1937 to elicit British Protestant support for the Nationalists) had fought
“to prove the real fact, that General Franco was fighting the cause of
Christianity against anti-Christ.”14
Born to Spanish parents at Gibraltar in 1864, Amigo was educated
at St. Edmund’s College in Ware and undertook theological studies at
Cardinal Manning’s seminary in Hammersmith. Effectively linked to the
English ecclesiastical scene, he was ordained in 1888 and taught at St.
Edmund’s for several years before serving as a priest in London during
the mid- and late 1890’s. By 1902 Bishop Bourne of Southwark appointed him vicar-general there, and in 1904 Amigo was advanced over
senior colleagues in that diocese to be consecrated its bishop at age
forty. He would serve in that capacity for forty-five years, a period of
considerable expansion in the number of communicants, churches,
schools, and other institutions. Amigo was long respected as a defender
of the economically disadvantaged, of whom his diocese included large
numbers, but his concern for them did not lead him in a socialist direcSimon Haxey, Tory M. P. (London, 1939), p. 216.

14

BY FREDERICK HALE

467

tion and, as his biographer Michael Clifton has noted, in the ideologically strained 1930’s he repeatedly distanced himself from movements
of the Left.15
As Clifton has emphasized, between the two world wars the bishop
made numerous statements that illuminated his respect for right-wing
dictators in Europe. Indeed, Clifton acknowledged that there was “a certain amount of truth”in allegations that Amigo was “Pro-Fascist”without
defining this term by presenting more than a small amount of evidence
of the bishop’s political leanings. Clifton declared that Amigo “had a
great personal regard for Mussolini right up to the outbreak of the [Second World] war” and that his publicly expressed admiration for il Duce
apparently brought about a scandal in the diocese. In brief, on the Eve
of Corpus Christi in 1929 a letter purportedly from Amigo was sent to
all the priests in his diocese attacking fascism and encouraging Italians
in the United Kingdom to join anti-fascist organizations. Upon learning
of this forgery, the infuriated bishop immediately contacted the Italian
consul general in London and assured him that he was not the author
of the document.The perpetrator was never discovered.In 1936,Amigo
lent his public support to the Italian invasion of Abyssinia, a position
which was met with considerable hostility in the London press.16
British Catholic responses to Franco’s insurgency did not develop ex
nihilo. For the most part, the pro-Nationalist attitudes of the hierarchy
and the weekly denominational press were a continuation of the decidedly anti-Republican attitude that had been apparent and widespread in these ecclesiastical circles since the election of February,
1936, and deepened the following month when numerous reports of
extensive anticlerical violence and the destruction of church property
in Spain reached British shores. The Times, for example, which served
as one important conduit of such news in England, published graphic
articles in March bearing such titles as “Renewed Disorders in Spain.
Churches and Convents Sacked,”17 “Arson and Rioting in Spain,”18
“Churches Burned in Madrid,”19 “Trail of Arson in Spain,”20 and “The
Spanish Riots.‘State of Alarm’ Prolonged.”21 The Catholic weeklies gave
the crisis in Spain a great deal of coverage during the next few months.
Michael Clifton, Amigo—Friend of the Poor (Leominster, 1987), p. 139.
Ibid., pp. 140–141.
17
The Times (London), March 10, 1936, p. 15.
18
The Times, March 11, 1936, p. 16.
19
The Times, March 14, 1936, p. 12.
20
The Times, March 16, 1936, p. 11.
21
The Times, March 17, 1936, p. 13.

15

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468 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

Such newspapers as The Catholic Times and The Universe trumpeted
such headlines as “Reds in Spain Burn 7 Churches,”22 “Spanish Nuns Flee
to Gibraltar,”23 “More Churches & Convents Burned by Spanish Reds,”24
and “Spanish Bishop Finds a Refuge at Gibraltar. His House Set On Fire
By Red Mob.”25 A recurrent theme in this coverage was that the Socialist government of the Republic was simply unable to cope with the crisis.
This resonated with British Catholic resentment over the disestablishment of their denomination in Spain a few years earlier.
Similar sentiments dominated Catholic reactions in the United Kingdom to the insurrection in July, 1936. To the extent that the major
denominational weekly newspapers reflected Catholic opinion, it overwhelmingly favored the Nationalist cause. In The Universe, for example, coverage began on July 31, 1936, with articles under the following
headlines: “Barcelona under Red Terror,” “Many Priests Shot: Every
Church in City Burned,” and “Bodies of Nuns Dug up and Destroyed.” It
continued a week later with “Demoniacal Fury in Spain” and “Blessed
Sacrament Thrown into Streets,” and on August 14 readers were treated
to news under the rubrics “Holy See Protests to Spain. But Reds and Anarchists Continue the Slaughter,”“Priests Shot at Sight: Mass Banished,”
and “If Anti-Reds Fail ‘The End Will Be Unspeakable.’” In The Catholic
Times, meanwhile, the opening sentences of the initial article about the
war,published under the headline “Massacre of Priests in Spain”in the issue of July 31, told that “Spain’s Left Government has opened the Gates
of Hell in its attempt to terrorise the nation into submission. Ever since
it has been in power, it has tacitly encouraged its communist followers
in their burning of churches and convents, and the murder of members
of Right political parties.” The Catholic Times thereby explicitly attributed anticlerical violence directly to the government in Madrid, linked
it to extreme socialist ideology, and created an eschatological framework for its own interpretation of events in Spain. Augmenting words
with visual imagery to underscore the point, the same front page featured a photograph of a burning church with approximately thirty men
in front of it, with the caption, “Communists with clenched fists upraised before a church they set on fire in a village near Madrid.”26
Even at the Dominican monthly Blackfriars,which eventually adopted
an unofficially neutral stance on the war,the editor,Victor White,cut his
The Universe, LXXVI, no. 3921 (March 6, 1936), p. 1.
The Universe, LXXVI, no. 3922 (March 13, 1936), p. 1.
24
The Catholic Times (London), LXXVII, no. 3472 (March 13, 1936), p. 24.
25
The Catholic Times, LXXVII, no. 3473 (March 20, 1936), p. 1.
26
“Massacre of Priests in Spain,” The Catholic Times, no. 3492 ( July 31, 1936), p. 1.
22

23

BY FREDERICK HALE

469

argument from the same bolt of rhetorical cloth. He interpreted the
conflagration as exclusively a matter of the Left.“Red terror is at its diabolical work in Spain, and there is no good reason to be confident that
it will not break the boundaries of that tragic country,” he editorialized.
White then shifted from the political to the theological gear in his
rhetorical transmission and offered his interpretation of the essence of
the civil war:“Whether the so-called Government supporters be Communists or Syndicalists or Anarchists matters very little; this is no political issue, no mere fighting against a local insurrection, no mere civil
war.” Instead, it was ultimately a struggle on an apocalyptic scale:“The
issue is between Christ and antichrist, and the forces of the Evil One are
venting their insane rage upon the ministers and servants of God.”27
One could multiply examples to underscore that in the main British
Catholic journalistic opinion, quite in harmony with that of Archbishop
Arthur Hinsley of Westminster, who was made a cardinal in 1937, was
deeply concerned about the plight of the Church in Spain and tended
to see the war there primarily in terms of its violent impact on that
country’s religious institutions.
Some moulders of British Catholic opinion wrestled vigorously with
the issue, perhaps none more than Michael de la Bédoyère, the editor of
The Catholic Herald. In that weekly the initial coverage of the war occurred in the issue of July 24, when a front-page article sought to delineate the underlying causes. It was pointed out that the Popular Front
had been at odds with the national church over several issues, such as
“the complete secularisation of education” and had been incapable of
preventing “the most dastardly outrages on churches and convents. . . .”
The prospect of a “Red” victory thus never seemed palatable to The
Catholic Herald, and it was feared that the eventual failure of the insurgency would lead to the scapegoating of Catholics, because it had been
made in the name of religion.28
In an editorial in the same issue, de la Bédoyère indicated that his
sympathies were with Franco. Calling attention to a chaotic economic
situation in Spain, he pointed out that since the elections of the previous February hundreds of strikes had taken place while militias of various ideological hues had been at each others’ throats. De la Bédoyère
reasoned that stability could be restored only by “a trained and united
army.” He did not savor the eventuality of a military dictatorship and ac“Editorial,” Blackfriars, XVII (September, 1936), 647.
“Civil War in Spain. Causes of the Rising,” The Catholic Herald (London), no. 2630
( July 24, 1936), p. 1.
27

28

470 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

knowledged that the “Monarchists and Fascists who are the driving
force of the revolt” had been hostile to the authentically Catholic parliamentary parties under inter alios Gil Robles but believed that if nothing else a Nationalist victory “would presumably provide at least
security for Catholics.”29
De la Bédoyère returned to the uprising at greater length the following week and explored more analytically certain ethical and political issues that this event of “overshadowing importance” entailed. Like many
other commentators in the religious press, he took up the question of
the legitimacy of the revolution, but unlike many of his counterparts at
other newspapers he did not arrive at a definite conclusion at this
stage.Instead,de la Bédoyère broached some of the issues to be weighed
in the balance when considering the legitimacy of armed revolt against
an elected government.“The gravity of the oppression,the possibility of
a better way [of effecting political change]. The cost, and the prospect
of success have all to be taken into account before precipitating so terrible a thing as civil strife and the overthrow of constituted authority,”
he reminded readers. De la Bédoyère was obviously wrestling with
these matters during the early days of the war. On the one hand, it
seemed obvious that much of the fighting on the Republican side was
being done by “communist and syndicalist militias” whose goal was “a
Red atheist dictatorship.” On the other hand, he found much that was
indefensible on the Nationalist or conservative side, some of it the responsibility of the Catholic Church. His critique of the old order merits
quotation at length:
Spain is paying the penalty for what Spanish Catholics are the first to admit,
namely generations of too much formalism in religion,and too many plausible
excuses afforded for identifying religion with privilege, and too much actual
oppression by landlords and masters.A situation has been created from which
literally no issue is now possible without great loss and suffering. The question that hangs in the balance now is which way the penance is to be paid.

In a geopolitical sense, moreover, Spain and Europe appeared to be
caught in a dilemma. De la Bédoyère envisaged the possibility of the
civil war escalating into a broadly based European ideological battle if
“Lenin’s prophecy of a Soviet Spain” were fulfilled, because this could
lead to its alliance with the Soviet Union and France against the “Fascist
powers,” which he did not explicitly list apart from mentioning Ger29
”Trial by Sword in Spain” (editorial), The Catholic Herald, no. 2630 ( July 24, 1936),
p. 8.

BY FREDERICK HALE

471

many. Such a conflict, he feared, would “permanently overshadow every
approach to a Christian Society of Nations.” The alternative of a Nationalist victory leading to “a usurping military dictatorship” in Spain struck
him as being only marginally preferable. That eventuality, de la Bédoyère suspected, would confirm in the minds of “all the Church’s enemies” that the Catholic Church was little more than the handmaiden of
right-wing states.“The times are desperate indeed when that is the alternative for which we as Christians have to hope,” he concluded in a
mood of resignation.30 As I have demonstrated elsewhere, de la Bédoyère eventually became an ardent supporter of Franco’s insurgency
and welcomed the victory over the Republicans in 1939.31
Amigo followed a much more direct route to supporting Franco. By
early August, 1936, i.e., approximately a fortnight after the beginning of
the Nationalist insurgency in Spain, he had begun to express privately
his sympathy for that undertaking. In a letter to John Walter of The
Times, the bishop, apparently suspicious of some of the reports published in the press, wondered whether there was any reliable news
about recent events in Spain. He gave qualified support to the attempted seizure of power by the armed forces, on the one hand attributing it to the traditional “love for order” by the military, but on the
other hand clearly regarding it as an understandable reaction to Spain
having gone “red.” Amigo did not doubt that “the Soviets” were pulling
the political strings in Madrid and that accordingly they wanted “the socalled ‘rebels’” to be beaten. This seasoned cleric linked his hostility to
“the Communists in Spain” to the year’s anticlerical violence:“Many excellent persons have been put to death, Churches and Convents have
been destroyed and hatred of religion has been stirred up.”32
During the next week Amigo heard from Benedict Williamson, a
priest in Rome, who confirmed reports already published in the British
press that religious refugees were fleeing in droves to Italy because
of the “horrors wrought by the Communists in Spain especially at Barcelona.” He painted an alarming picture of a land in chaos and replete
with irrational anticlerical violence.As one illustration of this, Williamson
relayed an account he had heard of “a young woman running through
the street with a revolver shouting out the number of nuns she had
“Spain’s Purgatory” (editorial), The Catholic Herald, no. 2631 ( July 31, 1936), p. 8.
Frederick Hale,“From Pacifism to Neutrality,” p. 542.
32
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Peter Amigo (London)
to [ John] Walter, August 4, 1936.
30

31

472 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

killed.” He then gave an even more graphic example of what he perceived as the anticlerical core of the conflict in Spain:“One of the most
goulish [sic] things was the digging up of corpses of the buried
Carmelites & setting up the bodies in the windows of the Convent.”
This expatriate cleric cast his remarks in a thoroughly anti-Left mould,
calling the infernal predicament in Spain “a warning for those in
England who are inclined to alliance with Communists.” Moreover,
Williamson was certain that it was part of a larger Russian strategy “to
seize Spain, then France & last Belgium.” He assured Amigo that he and
unspecified others in Rome were united in praying for Spain’s “liberation from the Bolshevists.”33
Probably only a few days later Amigo received a letter from his friend
Father Edwin Henson, the rector of the English College in Valladolid,
Spain, an institution at which men from the United Kingdom and elsewhere had long been trained for the Catholic priesthood. Henson, who
would continue to serve as a conduit of pro-Franco Spanish ecclesiastical opinion for the remainder of the war, assured Amigo that apart from
an initial air raid in which approximately eight people had been killed,
conditions in Valladolid were tranquil (“We have never been more at
peace”) while an apocalyptic struggle was going on elsewhere in Spain.
His dualistic characterization of the conflict is crucial, because it apparently influenced or at least confirmed English Catholic perceptions of
the war and because it further undermines Preston’s thesis about the
supposedly determining effect in the United Kingdom of the rhetorical
campaign in the autumn of 1936 to portray Franco’s insurgency as a
Catholic crusade. “This is a crusade—God versus the devil—and God
will win,” Henson had already assured Bishop Amigo in August.34
On Sunday, August 16, 1936, Amigo spoke from the pulpit of St.
George’s Cathedral in Southwark to a congregation of more than 1,000
about the Spanish Civil War. He denounced English press coverage of
the conflict and urged his audience to disregard most of what they read
about it in the daily press, especially the characterization of the Nationalist forces as “rebels” against the Spanish government. “If they are
rebels, then, thank God, I am one,” Amigo professed. The epicenter of
Spain’s woes, he declared, lay in Moscow; ultimately Russian-inspired
communism was behind the Spanish discord. The so-called military in33
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Benedict Williamson
(Rome) to Bishop Amigo, August 9, 1936.
34
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Edwin Henson (Valladolid) to Peter Amigo, August 12, 1936.

BY FREDERICK HALE

473

surgency, according to Amigo’s perception which harmonized fully
with those of many other influential Catholic churchmen in England,
was actually a popular religious protest movement: “The people in
Spain who were attacking the Government were not rebels, they are
fighting for the Church of God.”35
It is impossible to gauge the extent of the local reaction against
Amigo’s homiletical comments,but there is evidence that some Catholics
disagreed sharply with him. In a letter to The South London Press, for
instance, W. Ferris of South Lambeth recalled that a few months earlier
the bishop had defended Mussolini’s imperialistic designs on Abyssinia.
He took Amigo to task for championing a cause that relied on Moorish
troops and Adolf Hitler’s military assistance. Ferris, who mentioned that
he had been a scholar at St. George’s Cathedral School more than forty
years earlier, reminded “democratic Catholics” that nothing in the doctrines of their church obliged them “to swallow Dr. Amigo’s Fascist politics” and pointed out that English Catholics were also to be found in
the ranks of the pro-Republicans, such as Dr. Morgan, the chairman of
the British Medical Mission to the Loyalists.36 Meanwhile, the Labour
Member of Parliament from East Southwark, T. E. Naylor, also expressed
strong disapproval of Amigo’s remarks and, like Ferris, thought they
were of a piece with the bishop’s approval of the Italian invasion of
Abyssinia. He found it “almost incredible” that a “respected dignitary of
the Catholic Church” could defend Mussolini’s heavily armed attack
on a “nominally Christian nation in a wanton[,] unjustifiable war of
conquest” and then support the military uprising, using “Moors and Foreign Legionaries from Africa” against a constitutionally elected government in Spain. Naylor hoped that Amigo had been misquoted in the
press.37
Among the most embittered and condemnatory of the participants in
this verbal skirmish was Eric R. Cook of Forest Hill, who accused Amigo
of being a theological ignoramus. To Cook, it seemed self-evident that
“all Roman Catholic leaders”should understand that it was “sinful to enter on a war in which there is little or no hope of success” and that “it is
sinful to oppose a properly constituted Government.” On both counts,
he believed, the bishop’s stance was thus morally flawed and placed
“Catholic Bishop on War in Spain,” The South London Press, August 21, 1936, p. 3.
W. Ferris (South Lambeth) to The South London Press, undated, in The South London
Press, August 21, 1936, p. 2.
37
T. E. Naylor (East Southwark) to The South London Press, undated, in The South London Press, August 21, 1936, p. 2.
35

36

474 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

him on the side of “the military Fascist clique” which was illegitimately
attempting to seize power in Spain. Shifting gears, Cook sought to place
Amigo’s church into the ranks of contemporary political oppressive
forms of government:“In the world at present there are four great forces
bent on the destruction of personal liberty and the enslavement of the
spirit of man. They are Fascism, Nazism, Communism and Roman Catholicism. They may differ very much in details, but they are all identical
in fundamentals. All four are coercive tyrannies. All four are willing to
employ war, the Devil’s method, to enslave mankind.”38 Cook was apparently an heir of the long-standing tradition of British Protestant
anti-Catholicism which associated the Church of Rome with political
oppression.
Amigo and his colleagues in the diocese never remained passive in
the controversy. The bishop issued a defensive statement that was
printed in The South London Press on August 28. Insisting that he took
“no side in politics,” with regard to Italy Amigo explained that he had
merely stated that Mussolini “stood for law and order” in that country
and that his fall would have disastrous repercussions both domestically
and internationally. He further justified his position on Spain by pointing out that the Republican government had proven itself too weak to
control public disorder, including the murders of priests and the burnings of churches.“As a matter of principle any nation may rise against a
government that is guilty of grave injustice and unable to maintain public order,” he declared in terms that were already a Leitmotiv in proNationalist writing in England. There was nothing novel in Amigo’s
apologia for his pro-Nationalist stance.At the same time, he denied having defended Franco’s use of Moorish troops.39
As public hostility to Amigo’s position did not abate, he continued to
take up the cudgels on his own behalf south of the Thames. On September 12 he addressed a demonstration that attracted an estimated
800 men in his diocese. The outspoken bishop reiterated his perception that the conflict in Spain was “not a question of Fascism,it is a question of God and Anti-God” and, to a loud ovation, declared: “If the
present Government of Spain is democratic then God forbid we should
be democrats.” A journalist from The South London Press experienced
frustration in getting a straightforward comment from other Catholic
clergymen in the Diocese of Southwark. He was told that “many” local
38
Eric T. Cook (Forest Hill) to The South London Press, undated, in The South London
Press, September 11, 1936, p. 3.
39
“Bishop Amigo Answers His Critics,” The South London Press, August 28, 1936, p. 5.

BY FREDERICK HALE

475

Catholics objected to the mingling of religion and politics but also reported the opinion of an unnamed “prominent Catholic” that Amigo
“conceives it his duty to warn this country against the red menace” and
“is quite justified as the leader of nearly one and half million Catholics
to place before them the position of their co-religionists in another
country.”40
Amigo and like-minded priests did not stand alone in the dispute, but
clearly enjoyed the support of many parishioners. Indeed, an incalculable but evidently considerable number of Catholics in the Diocese of
Southwark rallied behind their bishop and defended both him and the
Nationalist cause in the public war of words that was being waged in
the diocese. Their counter-attacks included assaults on Amigo’s critics.
Thomas V. Faulks, for instance, responded promptly to the letter that
Perris had sent to The South London Press by asking whether that detractor “really is a Catholic, as he claims to be, or a Communist posing as
a Catholic.” It seemed inconceivable to him that a true son of the
Church would have the effrontery to insult both his bishop and, by implication, Pope Pius XI, both of whom had been critical of the Madrid
government for allegedly permitting anticlerical violence to run rife.
Faulks reminded readers that the Catholic bishops in England had univocally condemned what he termed “the Communist atrocities in
Spain” and trusted that particularly the Holy Father would not have become involved in the plight of the Spanish clergy and other religious
personnel without first ascertaining the veracity of reports relating
thereto.41
One focal point of the dispute within the diocese pitted against
Amigo the president of the Clapham Labour Party, Monica Whately, a
Catholic who a few months later would join an interdenominational
but Anglican-dominated delegation that visited Republican Spain. She
had been in that country as recently as July, 1936, i.e., very shortly before Franco’s insurgency,and after that uprising began found herself disgusted by what she regarded as severe and tendentious distortions of
the relations between church and state in Spain in the British Catholic
newspapers. Whately had consequently sent an article expressing a
much different opinion to unspecified newspapers in that group, but, at
least in her own view, it had been rejected because her views did not
40
”Catholics Support Dr. Amigo in Spanish Argument,” The South London Press, September 15, 1936, p. 1.
41
Thomas V. Faulks (Southwark) to The South London Press, undated, in The South
London Press, September 4, 1936, p. 3.

476 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

harmonize with the image that was being presented to the Catholic
public in the United Kingdom. Consequently, Whately had given her
piece to the secular daily press of the Left in the hope that by doing so
she could enlighten at least a small percentage of her co-religionists,
and it was published on August 27 in both the Daily Herald and The
Daily Worker. She was “amazed at the ignorance which appears to exist among Catholics regarding the situation and the responsibility of
those who have plunged the country into the horrors of civil war” and
faulted the Catholic weeklies for deliberately creating this lack of understanding.“The Catholic papers vie with one another to produce the
most sensational and horrible atrocity stories,” Whately lamented,
“oblivious of the fact that such stories are constantly being denied by
the international journalists on the spot.” She found it incredible that
hordes of “anti-religious reds”had burned down churches and assaulted
members of the clergy. In Barcelona on the eve of the insurgency,
Whately recalled,large numbers of priests and nuns had strolled through
the streets in their habits, quite without fear of being molested. Only
after a “Fascist Military Group” began to conduct its “illegal rebellion”
against the legitimate government of the Second Republic did anticlerical violence erupt. Calling that government “Liberal,” she flatly denied
that it was in the hands of Marxists, and in the same breath she dismissed as “a lie” the characterization of “the Fascist rebels” as “loyal sons
of the Church” who were “fighting to preserve religious freedom.” Indeed, Whately rejected out of hand the contention which had been part
of the British debate about the true nature of the war from its outset,
viz., that it was essentially one of religion. In presenting her case that it
was, rather, an economic struggle which had boiled over, she called attention to the Nationalists’ employment of large numbers of “Mohammedan Moors, brought over, we are told, to help loyal Catholics
defend their Church—but, in truth, brought over by the great landowners who, with the support of the Church, hope to retain their position
as the privileged class, at the expense of the poor, uneducated and landhungry peasant.”42
In September Whately took her case a step further by having a proRepublican leaflet printed which she and like-minded Catholic supporters of the Labour Party distributed unofficially after Mass at St.
Mary’s Church in Clapham Park. In the wake of this, The South London
42
Monica Whateley [sic],“Another Catholic Looks at Spain,”Daily Herald (London),August 27, 1936, p. 12; Monica Whateley [sic],“‘Let Catholics Know the Truth,’” The Daily
Worker (London), August 27, 1936, p. 4.

BY FREDERICK HALE

477

Press printed an article titled “Catholics May Be Forbidden to Vote Socialist,” which only caused more local strife. Amigo’s assistants on the
diocesan staff sought to assure the public that his anti-communist and
pro-Franco statements did not mean that the hierarchy or the Catholic
Church in general opposed the Labour Party.“The Labour Party has condemned Communism,” Amigo’s private secretary reminded readers of
the South London Press,“but many of their leaders seem to be defending the actions of Communists elsewhere.” An unspecified member of
the staff declared that “Catholics must scuttle their politics when their
religion is attacked.”43
Undeterred by these ecclesiastical sentiments, Whately pointed out
that on her stay in Barcelona a week before the outbreak of the war
“priests and nuns were walking about the streets in safety.” She allowed
that there had subsequently been violent attacks on religious personnel
but averred that “the responsibility must rest on those who made the
war,with the atrocities which wars inevitably bring.”The pacifist Whately
reiterated her position “as a good Catholic” that “had a majority been
dissatisfied with the democratically elected Government in Spain, they
should have changed it through constitutional means, and not through
an armed rebellion which has plunged the country into the tragedies of
a civil war.”44
Other local critics of the Nationalist insurgency responded privately
to Amigo’s publicized pro-Franco remarks by writing stinging letters to
him. One resident of Wimbledon, Frederick Grubb, argued in September that the behavior of the Nationalists and their wealthy benefactors
as well as the Catholic Church’s abuse of its historic status in Spanish
society had run counter to pivotal British principles, among which he
listed the following:
Soldiers should be loyal to their oaths and obey the civil power; the importation of foreign mercenaries to intimidate a nation is tyranny; the landowner
has a duty to his estate and to the people who live there, and when he rackrents the countryside and spends his receipts in absentia [unintelligible
word] he should be dispossessed; the State should provide that all children
are taught to read and write; religion and a priesthood are not identical, and
the domination of national life, political, social, economic, by a privileged
Church is bad; freedom of speech and freedom of meeting are elementary
rights.
43
“Catholics May Be Forbidden to Vote Socialist,” The South London Press, September
25, 1936, p. 1.
44
Ibid.

478 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

To turn one’s back on these propositions, Grubb argued, was to renounce cherished British tradition, and if they were invalid, then “the
British achievement throughout the centuries is a prolonged, obstinate
error.”45
Amigo soon took his openly controversial pro-Nationalist campaign
outside London to other parts of his southeastern English diocese. On
Saturday, September 5, he addressed approximately 700 Knights of St.
Columba and their guests at the annual convention of that sodality in
Brighton and focused part of his remarks on the crisis that the conflict
in Spain posed for Catholicism. Again professing to be apolitical, Amigo
reportedly declared flatly,“I don’t believe in politics and I always take
good care to tell politicians what I think of them. What I do believe in is
law and order.”He proceeded to deliver a commentary that explicitly related to domestic politics in Spain and the international political implications of the war.“If the present Government in Spain is democratic,
then God forbid that we should be democrats,”he pleaded.“They tell us
it was a properly elected Government. But it was not what we are accustomed to in England. There was a great deal of tampering in that
election, I am afraid.” The bishop feared for the future of Europe:“If the
Reds win in Spain, the result will be they will have other countries under their thumb in a very short time.” The dominoes, he predicted,
would fall in a northerly direction:“France and Belgium will come next.
It may even come to this country.”46 This address was published in both
the Catholic and the secular press and elicited a minor storm of protest.
Undoubtedly the most vitriolic, and possibly the most meandering
and ungrammatical, extant letter which Amigo received came in September, 1936, as a reaction to this speech. R. S. Dickens, who identified
himself as an Anglican, harbored deeply entrenched prejudices against
Roman Catholicism and evidently found justification for them in the
bishop’s pro-Nationalist comments.Calling the Nationalists whom Amigo
supported “Fascists,” he took the bishop to task for labeling the Spanish
election of that year a “farce” and remarked that elections “generally are
when the opponents are lucky.” Dickens railed on against the Roman
Catholic Church in general, declaring that it tended to stand behind Jesus Christ during political upheavals but that it “spurns him in the
45
Diocese of Southwark Archives,Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Frederick Grubb (Wimbledon) to Bishop Amigo, September 6, 1936.
46
“Bishop Amigo Denounces the Madrid ‘Govt.,’” The Catholic Times, LXXVII, no. 3498
(September 11,1936),p.2;“Bishop Amigo Warns Against the Red Menace to England,”The
Universe, LXXVI, no. 3948 (September 11, 1936), p. 3.

BY FREDERICK HALE

479

normal times.” This vituperative critic accused Amigo of believing that
“murder and lust and oppression is [sic] a good foundation for the
Christian(?) Religion, and for curing the Evils of this world.”Dickens did
not accept the argument that Catholicism had been a civilizing agent in
Europe. Indeed, he contended that “we have had about 1903 years of
Christianity issuing from Rome, and I think we are lower than the
beasts of the jungle, for all that, because we sin with such finesse and
subtlety, the veneer of civilization and religion.” Without mentioning il
Duce by name,Dickens reminded Amigo that Mussolini,who he claimed
was a Catholic, had founded the fascist movement. As a parting shot,
this ranting foe insisted that when among strangers he could usually
know intuitively which ones were Catholics “by their countenance exuding hatred.”47
The storm in the diocesan teacup soon boiled over into other parts
of England and drew responses from both Catholics and others in several parts of the country, many of them hostile of Amigo’s pro-Nationalist
utterances. From Bristol, for example, Mrs. C. Cadogan, a self-described
“staunch Catholic” who had just read his pro-Franco letter in the Manchester Guardian, wrote to him that she was “astonished” at his remarks.“The young people of today are being brought up in a world of
turmoil & strife, & when one sees such a letter from a Catholic Bishop
it adds to their difficulties & will do our Holy Religion more harm than
good,” she lamented.48
Undeterred by such public and private complaints, and evidently
spurred on by an ongoing stream of wartime news from Spain as well
as pleas from the Spanish clergy,such as the impassioned,anti-Republican
appeal which the Spanish bishops issued in 1937 to their counterparts
around the world, Amigo continued to support the Nationalists for the
duration of the conflict, as did his fellow bishops (most notably the
Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Arthur Hinsley) and most of the
Catholic press in the United Kingdom. Opposition to this position continued within and outside Catholic circles, and the dogs of war undoubtedly tormented Amigo. There is no evidence, however, that he
ever wavered in his support for Franco and his cohort. The Nationalist
bombing of Barcelona in 1938 caused an international furore which did
not leave English Catholics untouched. In February of that year, to cite
47
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain files, R. S. Dickens
(Brighton) to P. E. Amigo, September 7, 1936.
48
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, C. Cadogan (Bristol) to
Bishop Amigo, September 5, 1936.

480 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

but one particularly illustrative example, a parishioner in East Dulwich,
Mrs.M.Turner,wrote to Amigo after reading in The South London Press
that he continued to advocate the Nationalist cause.She related that she
and a neighbor “who is also a good Catholic” had recently discussed
Franco’s “latest bombing outrages on innocent people” and found the
bishop’s comments incredible.49 No less troubled was Percy Hills of
Brixton, who, calling himself “a plain ignorant working man,” complained to Amigo about his public congratulations to Franco and sent
the bishop cuttings from three English newspapers describing the
bombardment of the Catalan capital. He insisted on knowing whether
Amigo would change his attitude toward the “useless slaughter”in Spain
and, in light of broad condemnation of the aerial bombing, was still willing to congratulate el Caudillo.50
Replying through his diocesan secretary,Amigo defended his support
of Franco while professing to deplore all bombing of towns by either
the Nationalists or the Republicans, the latter of whom, he emphasized,
had wreaked havoc on Salamanca, Seville, and Valladolid. Referring back
to the military insurgency a year and a half earlier, he stressed that
Franco’s insurgency had been justified by “the appalling atrocities and
sacrileges which took place before the beginning of the war” and the
“shameless manipulation of the voting” in the election of February,
1936.51 The bishop thus underscored the consistency of his position
and reiterated the allied religious and political reasons underlying it.
This consistency continued until the end of the war. When the British
government finally accepted the inevitability of the fall of Madrid and
grudgingly recognized the legitimacy Franco’s government in February,
1939, the ostensibly apolitical Amigo sent a letter of congratulation to
Franco’s representative in London, the Duke of Alba. That dignitary
promptly acknowledged this courtesy and, echoing a familiar refrain in
English and other Catholic circles, declared,“The victories of General
Franco have undoubtedly been won not only for Spain but for civilisation and Christianity throughout the world,” a sentiment which resonated fully with Amigo’s own perception since 1936.52
49
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, M. Turner (East Dulwich) to Bishop Amigo, February 1, [1938].
50
Diocese of Southwark Archives,Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Percy Hills (Brixton) to
Bishop Amigo, January 31, 1938.
51
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Diocesan Secretary
(Southwark) to Percy Hills, February 2, 1938.
52
Diocese of Southwark Archives, Archbishop Amigo, Spain file, Alba (London) to
Bishop Amigo, March 4, 1939.

BY FREDERICK HALE

481

This sentiment was fully in accord with the reactions of the English
Catholic hierarchy and press to Franco’s victory a few weeks later.
Amigo’s opposite number on the other side of the Thames, Cardinal
Hinsley,both publicly and behind the scenes had lent his support to the
Nationalist cause since 1936 while at the same time professing political
neutrality in his episcopal see. On March 28, 1939, he acknowledged receipt of a photograph of Franco which the Generalissimo had sent to
him through Mrs. Aubrey Herbert, who had served on the pro-Nationalist Bishops’ Committee for the Relief of Spanish Distress since its inception. In almost fawning terms, Hinsley declared to Franco that he
would value his portrait as a “treasure” and optimistically assured him
that he regarded him as “the great defender of the true Spain, the country of Catholic principles where Catholic social justice and charity will
be applied for the common good under a firm peace-loving Government.” In the same missive, the archbishop revealed his awareness that
the postwar road posed challenges and invoked God’s blessing upon
Franco’s endeavors in the interests of “reconstruction and reconciliation.”53 Moreover, in July, 1939, some three months after the fall of
Madrid, Lord Phillimore, chairman of the renamed “Friends of Spain”
(formerly the “Friends of National Spain”), and Douglas Jerrold, one of
its pillars since its inception, requested Hinsley to become one of the
vice presidents of the organization.54
There was general elation in the Catholic weekly press over Franco’s
triumph, an unsurprising sequel to the support those newspapers had
lent him since 1936. Even at the Dominican monthly journal Blackfriars the editor, Victor White, welcomed the Nationalist victory, if in
lukewarm terms, both because it meant the restoration of the Mass
throughout Spain and because it closed a chapter of “hideous fratricidal
conflict” in Spain. Furthermore, White was relieved that the conclusion
of hostilities there ended what he called “a painful conflict of conscience to millions of Catholics throughout the world, as well as much
of the distressing division among them.” This position mirrored the detached stance that he and various other English Dominicans had taken
on the war generally and acknowledged the fact that, notwithstanding
the impression of solidly pro-Franco unity that one could get from reading such weeklies as The Universe, The Catholic Times, The Tablet, and
The Catholic Herald, or by listening to the comments of Bishops Amigo
53
Archives of the Archdiocese of Westminster, file Hi. 2, folder 217, A. Hinsley (London)
to General Francisco Franco, March 28, 1939.
54
Archives of the Archdiocese of Westminster, file Hi. 2, folder 167, Lord Phillimore
(Henley-on-Thames) to Monseigneur Elwes, July 7, 1939.

482 FIGHTING OVER THE FIGHT IN SPAIN:THE PRO-FRANCO CAMPAIGN OF BISHOP PETER AMIGO

and Hinsley, there was extensive de facto support for the Republican
cause in the ranks of the British Catholic laity, as has been highlighted
in several sections of the present study. White did not conceal his resentment that some of his pro-Franco fellow Catholics had sought to
dismiss criticism of the Nationalists as “the untimely hair-splitting of a
few eccentric intellectuals.” English Catholic pro-Republicanism could
not be swept under the carpet, he noted parenthetically, as “some 80
per cent. of Catholics in England are adherents of some Labour Party or
organisation which has consistently supported, for good reasons or
bad, the Republican side.” White reminded readers that at no time had
the Nationalists claimed to be fighting only for the restoration of the
Church of Rome to its privileged position in Spain. Their other objectives, he pointed out, had always included “the acceptance of General
Franco’s confessedly ‘totalitarian’ one-party State, the repudiation of
Catalan and Basque autonomy, the forcible dissolution of the existing
trade unions, etc.” These were matters, White judged, on which “many
foreign Catholics found it impossible that the whole Catholic Church
should be involved.”55
One of the most obvious conclusions to be drawn from our consideration of Bishop Peter Amigo’s response to the Spanish Civil War and
the controversy which ensued from his repeated lauding of Franco and
the Nationalists is that it counters Preston’s untenable and unsubstantiated thesis of how the campaign during the autumn of 1936 to present
the insurgency in Spain as a Catholic “crusade” influenced opinion in
the United Kingdom. A full repudiation of Preston’s argument lies outside the scope of the present study, as it would require inter alia an examination of the positions that other British pro-Nationalists took and,
particularly, when and why they rallied behind Franco and his cohort.
What is indisputable, however, is that in Amigo’s case no such rhetorical campaign from Spain was the slightest bit necessary. This senior
bishop,who maintained life-long ties to Spain,adopted a pro-Nationalist
position very early in the war, one fully in harmony with his denial of
the legitimacy of the Socialist victory at the Spanish polls in February,
1936, and his deeply entrenched anti-communist sympathy for Italian
fascism. Secondly, the Amigo controversy casts additional light on how
traditional English Protestant hostility to Catholicism,both domestically
and abroad, could influence public debate on a current issue. And,
thirdly,the variety of individual positions we have analyzed underscores
that there were deep divisions in English Catholic ranks with regard to
“Arriba Espana [sic]!” Blackfriars, XX (April, 1939), 299–300.

55

BY FREDERICK HALE

483

the legitimacy of the Nationalist cause, notwithstanding the strongly
pro-Franco stance of the hierarchy and the weekly Catholic press. Further studies of English religious responses to the Spanish Civil War,
when they are undertaken, would profit from an avoidance of overarching generalizations along denominational lines, for the Amigo case
suggests that attitudinal differences toward the respective belligerents
in Spain cut squarely through religious communions.

BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS
CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952
BY

R. BENTLEY ANDERSON*

In the summer of 1952, the New Orleans Province of the Society of
Jesus rejected the practice of racial segregation. Basing their decision
on Catholic philosophical and theological precepts, the Jesuits of the
New Orleans Province examined the racial practices of post-World War
II America and found them wanting. They decided that the time had
come to end segregation within their order and its various ministries.
By integrating Jesuit-run educational institutions, retreat houses, and
parishes as well as the religious order itself, members of the Society of
Jesus, however, ran the risk of alienating benefactors, hampering apostolic effectiveness, and decreasing vocations. Nevertheless, the Jesuits
had concluded that racial segregation was incompatible with church
teachings regarding Christian justice and charity—”Jim Crow” Catholicism was no longer welcomed at church.1
Jesuit action came two years before the Supreme Court rendered its
decision in the Brown v. Board of Education, Topeka, Kansas, case,
and three years before the Montgomery bus boycott commenced. The
process by which Southern Jesuits concluded that racial segregation
was morally untenable is a hitherto unexamined aspect of the broader
civil rights movement in the United States and is the focus of this work.
The history of the Roman Catholic Church’s response to American
racial practices has been less than edifying. Beginning with slavery and
continuing with racial segregation, the Church has equivocated and ra*Dr.Anderson is an assistant professor of history in Saint Louis University. He wishes to
thank Daniel Schlafly of Saint Louis University, David Gill, S.J., of Boston College, Charles
O’Neill, S.J., former director of the Jesuit Historical Institute in Rome, James Bradley, S.J.,
former provincial of the New Orleans Province, and Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, S.J., superior
general of the Society of Jesus, for their assistance.
1
Headquartered in Rome, the Society of Jesus is governed by a superior general and divided into worldwide territories ( provinces), each headed by a religious superior
( provincial).The New Orleans Province is comprised of the states of New Mexico,Texas,
Louisiana, Arkansas, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina.

484

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

485

tionalized the varied treatment of blacks in the United States.2 While the
papacy regularly condemned the slave trade, Holy Scripture, Church Fathers,and church tradition never proscribed slavery.Within three decades
following the end of slavery in the United States, American Southern
Catholics adopted the practice of racial segregation as it was established and institutionalized by legal and extra-legal means.3
In post-World War II America, Southern Catholics still followed the
practice of segregation as prescribed by law and custom. Southern
parishes were established either for black or white Catholics as were
parochial grammar and high schools, Catholic medical and social establishments, and Catholic institutions of higher learning. Notable exceptions were found in the border states of Kentucky and Missouri, where
several Catholic institutions of higher learning were integrated. And
while the Catholic University of America, in the still largely segregated
District of Columbia, accepted black applicants, none of the institutions
in the Deep South did. For Southern Jesuits, the situation changed with
the promulgation of a policy statement regarding interracial affairs in
1952.
The impetus for members of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus to examine the race question came from a letter of John
Baptist Janssens, S.J., the superior general of the order, entitled De
Apostolatu Sociali (Concerning the Social Apostolate). Writing in October, 1949, to fellow Jesuits regarding the socio-economic and religious
challenges presented by atheistic communism and liberal materialism,
Janssens worried that Jesuits were not sufficiently aware of the plight of
the working class and the threat this posed to an individual’s material
and spiritual welfare arising from “the inequitable condition, both temporal and spiritual, of by far the greater part of the human race.”4 The
Society of Jesus, he believed, needed to demonstrate solidarity with
workers if Christianity was to have any impact on their lives; if not, the
appeal of secular doctrines would draw them away from the Church
and Christian values.
2
Madeleine H. Rice, American Catholic Opinion in the Slavery Controversy (New
York, 1944); Cyprian Davis, The History of Black Catholics in the United States (New
York, 1990).
3
James B. Bennett, Religion and the Rise of Jim Crow in New Orleans (Princeton,
2005).
4
John B. Janssens, De Apostolatu Sociali (Woodstock, Maryland,1950), p. 1. Janssens
drew from papal social pronouncements, specifically Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum (1891),
and Pius XI’s Quadragesimo Anno (1931). Donald Dorr, Option for the Poor: One Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Maryknoll, New York, 1983).

486 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

For Janssens, Christ’s love was the motivating factor for examining
and then changing society. “Christ, in an untold number of His members, still suffers hunger, nakedness, exile and contempt. Let us turn our
eyes attentively to sights which daily meet our eyes and, in the light of
truth, study conditions to which we have grown accustomed and even
indifferent.They must not be tolerated; there must be a change.”The superior general of the Jesuits rhetorically asked whether it was right that
people all over the world should live in slums which destroy body and
soul, at the expense of the few. Did God create the world, he wondered,
in order that “a few rich men might heap up wealth and condemn so
many of their brethren in Christ to destitution?” No, he answered, God
enriched the world so that all people might lead lives which allowed
them to fulfill the commandments of loving God and neighbor. Janssens
believed that a new social order would enable all to achieve this supernatural end.5
When members of the New Orleans province began examining the
socio-economic conditions of workers in their region, they discovered,
not surprisingly, that working-class blacks were the poorest of the poor.
In the major Southern cities where Jesuits labored (i.e., El Paso, San Antonio, Dallas, New Orleans, Shreveport, Mobile, Tampa, and Miami), between 70% and 80% of employed blacks in 1950 were classified as
unskilled laborers.The median family income of blacks was a little more
than half of that for white families. Sixty percent of black families, compared to 20% of white ones, lived in housing classified as inadequate.
The death rate for blacks was 33 per thousand per year; for whites, 11
per thousand. The infant mortality rate in the black community was 70
deaths per thousand live births; for whites, 40 per thousand births.And,
for every public educational dollar spent on a white child, only thirtyfive cents was spent on a black child. The disparity between the living
conditions of southern blacks and whites was a graphic demonstration
of the pernicious nature of segregation.6
In January, 1950, Harry L. Crane, S.J., provincial of the New Orleans
Province,held a meeting where he,his consultors (i.e.,advisors),and select others discussed Janssens’ letter. They came together to review
what was being done and what needed to be done in the province fully
Janssens, De Apostolatu Sociali, pp.3–4.
“Tentative and partial suggestions for discussion of His Paternity’s instruction De
Apostolatu Sociali,”Archives of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus, Special
Collections and Archives, Loyola University [hereafter referred to as ANOSJ].
5

6

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

487

to incorporate the main tenets of De Apostolatu Sociali. They acknowledged that the two major social issues facing Southerners and
the Jesuits were industrial relations and the race question. Participants
at the meeting agreed that while the social problems of the South could
easily be identified, solutions to them were not so evident; this was especially true regarding segregation.A heated exchange took place when
these Jesuits debated what should be done to end segregation and how
much could be tolerated in the interim. What became obvious to all in
attendance was the need for a policy statement regarding this very
volatile issue; the committee recommended to the provincial that such
a policy be developed.7
This was not the first time that members of the New Orleans
Province had formally discussed the social problems facing the South.
Some three years prior, in December, 1946, Crane had presided at the
organizational meeting of the Institute of Social Order (ISO). Establishment of the ISO was the result of a series of directives formulated by
the Society of Jesus in the 1930’s and 1940’s.8 One directive in particular, the 29th Decree, formulated at the Twenty-Ninth General Congregation in 1946,9 called for the establishment of centers of social action
and social study, staffed by Jesuits trained in the social sciences, from
which Jesuits would champion the cause of social justice and train lay
leaders to do the same. In these ways the working class would be won
back to Christ and His Church, away from Socialism and Communism,
or, better yet, not embrace either ideology at all.10
Those attending the ISO meeting agreed that labor issues and interracial matters were the two major social problems confronting the region. Anthony Achée, S.J., former master of novices and current tertian
instructor,11 while agreeing that labor questions were a serious matter
in the South, argued that “race relations . . . constitute our biggest and
most pressing problem in the South today.” He defended his assertion,
Minutes of the “Meeting on the Social Apostolate,” January 18, 1950, ANOSJ.
Joseph Fitzgerald,“New Directions in the Social Apostolate” in Woodstock Letters, 88
(1959), 115–130.
9
A general congregation is an international meetings of province delegates,provincials,
and vice-provincials of the Society of Jesus.
10
Wilfrid Parsons, “Commentary on the 29th Decree of the XXIX General Congregation,” Social Order, I (1947–1948), 103–104, 138.
11
Tertianship is a year of training for a Jesuit who is ordained but has not yet taken final
vows. Spiritual development, pastoral work, and religious study are the focus of this endeavor.
7

8

488 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

explaining that the race question permeated Southern society and culture, that it was an explosive issue, and that, until resolved, he believed,
it could result in violence; furthermore, he was concerned that Southern Catholics did not view the race question as a problem.“[M]any of
our Catholics,” Achée stated,“not only do not feel with the Church in
this matter,but are even doctrinally wrong,in that they see nothing contrary to conscience in subjecting the Negro to injustice merely because
he is a Negro.”12
Andrew Smith, S.J., dean of men at Spring Hill College located in Mobile, Alabama, believed that until the race issue was resolved there
could be no industrial peace:“the Negro as a cheap labor market will
keep down all wages below a subsistence level, even if they do not provide for the communist agitators the fuel for a revolution.” The time for
action had come, Smith stated. He wanted the Church to be in the vanguard in proper thinking regarding this issue and to take the lead in rectifying past wrongs, rather than being “forced to act by the communist
agitators.”13
Within the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus, one could
find a variety of opinions regarding the race question.There were those
who believed that nothing should be done to disturb the given customs
and traditions of the South.Others argued that now was the time to end
racial segregation and that the Jesuits should lead the way in dismantling the practice within the Church. And still others held that with
time the practice would gradually disappear, but now was not the time
for imprudent action. The strident debate regarding segregation among
the Jesuits, especially at their university in New Orleans, Loyola University of the South, eventually forced the Jesuit leadership to act.14
In September, 1950, forty-one year-old William Crandell, S.J., former
dean of the faculty and vice-president of Loyola University, succeeded
Harry L. Crane, S.J., as provincial of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus. Crandell was well aware of the animosity among Jesuits
on Loyola’s campus. He acknowledged that the race question had to be
addressed sooner rather than later. He also knew that he would have to
handle the situation judiciously as New Orleans was the most Catholic
of cities in the South, and Loyola University the most prominent of the
Albert S. Foley,“New Orleans Province ISO,” ISO Bulletin, 4 (March, 1947), 4–6.
Ibid.
14
Robert Bentley Anderson,“Norman Francis is a Negro: Race, Religion and Catholic
Higher Education in New Orleans, 1947–1956” (Ph.D. dissertation, Boston College, 2001).
12

13

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

489

Jesuit endeavors in the region; therefore, any action taken at Loyola
would have reverberations throughout the province.15
After visiting their campus in the winter of 1951, Crandell wrote the
Jesuits of Loyola University expressing his disappointment that “the
spirit of charity and fraternal union which should exist in the Community has been harmed considerably by the personal animosity and bitterness which has arisen as a result of differing opinions concerning
the best practical solution of present-day social problems.” As he considered these problems “too important and deep-rooted to be attacked
without a united front,” he called on all members of the Loyola community to “be guided by Superiors and seek the blessing of obedience
on the practical means to be employed by us in these matters, and let
all advance their own opinions with due modesty and with respect and
consideration for the opinions of others.”16
Given Southern social realities, Crandell wondered what could or
should be done to help blacks. He questioned whether the immediate
abolition of segregation should be the goal of the Jesuits.And if so,what
methods and plans should be used to prepare the Catholic laity for the
inevitable dismantling of segregation?17
In writing to John B. Janssens, regarding the attitudes of the Southern
Jesuits and the race question, Crandell informed the superior general of
the order that
our minds are divided, our teachings are different, our approaches various.
We are confused, and so are our students. I fear that we are wasting much
time and losing many advantages while we constantly bicker, engage in plot
and counterplot, and fail in obedience and charity while each justified the
stand that he takes. It seems to me that it is time for us to formulate a definite
Province policy in this matter, concentrate our efforts along these lines, and
vigorously resist any departure from them.18

To bring order and discipline out of this confusion, Crandell informed Janssens of the desire to hold a meeting during the summer of
1952 to formulate a province policy regarding the race issue. Province
superiors (e.g., rectors and superiors of Jesuit communities) as well as
individuals who could present various perspectives in promoting betIbid.
William Crandell to Jesuit Community, Loyola University, March 2, 1951, ANOSJ.
17
Ibid.
18
William Crandell to John B. Janssens, November 20, 1951, New Orleans Province files,
Roman Archives of the Society of Jesus [hereafter referred to as ARSI].
15
16

490 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

ter race relations would be invited to attend the gathering. The policy
statement drafted by this group would then be submitted to Jesuit
headquarters for Janssens’ approval.19
The need to develop a province policy had become more evident as
there was disagreement among members of the order concerning the
issue, resulting in some public proclamations that had scandalized the
Catholic laity. By January, 1952, Crandell had decided to convene “a
meeting of the Superiors and other interested parties in the Province to
discuss thoroughly the matter of interracial relations in the Southern
[New Orleans] Province.” The gathering would be held in August in
Grand Coteau, Louisiana, site of the province novitiate. From January to
July, 1952, an interracial planning committee met to draft position papers for the August assembly. In his letter to committee members, Crandell explained that it was his “hope that out of the meeting we can
develop a Province policy in this matter, which all can then be directed
to follow.” Not wanting to draw attention to their work before it began,
the provincial asked members not to “discuss the appointment of the
Committee, its personnel, or the proposed general meeting with anyone until the work of the Committee makes it necessary.20
Over the course of seven months, the planning committee met nine
times to consider the following points: the moral aspects of the interracial question, public opinion and its effect on policy, and implementation of policy in the province. The committee also concerned itself
with the admission of black candidates into the Society of Jesus.21
In affirming the essential equality of all humans, members of the interracial planning committee rejected racial tenets that denied the dignity, value, and sacredness of all human beings. Adherence to racist
precepts, committee members concluded, was morally untenable. Belief in human equality meant that “every man has a natural right to all
the means, material and spiritual, necessary to develop his rational nature in accord with God’s designs.” Therefore, they concluded, there
was no place for racial discrimination.22
While discussing ways in which Jesuits could effectively promote the
Church’s teachings regarding race relations, committee members reviewed the racial practices and policies of specific Jesuit apostolic
Ibid.
William Crandell to Patrick Donnelly, January 5, 1952, ANOSJ.
21
Minutes of the Planning Committee Meeting on Interracial Relations of the New Orleans Province, ANOSJ [hereafter referred to as CMIR].
22
Ibid.
19

20

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

491

works (i.e., schools, parishes, and retreat houses) to determine what action was needed to further interracial goals and objectives,and whether
at a parish or a retreat house,in the high schools or institutions or higher
learning, members of the Society of Jesus would be urged to inculcate
these precepts.
Desegregating the order presented its own difficulties.And while the
committee recommended a non-exclusionary policy, these Jesuits wondered whether the number of white vocations to the Society would fall
off if blacks were admitted: would the young men themselves decide
not to enter an integrated religious order or would their parents dissuade them?23 The prospect of black priests, as representatives of
Christ, administering the sacraments to white Southerners was fraught
with many dangers, and these priests knew it.24
With the work of the planning committee completed, some fifty
members of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus met at
Saint Charles College in Grand Coteau,Louisiana,in late August,1952,to
hammer out a policy statement on racial matters. In his opening remarks, the provincial, William Crandell, explained that the purpose of
the meeting was “to unify the efforts of Ours to do what we can in solving this problem [of interracial relations].” He noted that “members of
the Province have been too divided concerning the solution of this
question. Tension and ill feelings have arisen from the taking of sides
concerning the imputability of mortal sin to those holding certain opinions.” The result was disharmony and discontent among the members
of the province, and Crandell wanted to restore peace and harmony
among the brethren by presenting a united front regarding the issue of
race relations.25
Building on the work of the planning committee, the Jesuits gathered
in Grand Coteau began by addressing the moral aspects of the interracial question. By first establishing general principles, the members then
could apply them to specific situations. Besides discussing the moral aspects concerning race relations, the bulk of the meeting was spent developing strategies for implementing change.26
Ibid.
No Jesuit province in the United States had a formal exclusionary policy regarding
black applicants; however, black Catholics who expressed interest in joining the New Orleans Province were discouraged from applying. Instead, an individual was encouraged to
approach the Society of the Divine Word headquartered in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi.
25
“Minutes of the Province Meeting on Interracial Relations, August 28–29, 1952,”
ANOSJ [hereafter referred to as MPIR].
26
Ibid.
23

24

492 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

The Grand Coteau attendees rejected the theories and practices of
racial segregation. In their document,“Moral Aspects of the Interracial
Question,”the Jesuits presented the philosophical, theological, and constitutional presuppositions which supported the Society of Jesus’ stance
against segregation. Stating that all people “belong to one human family
and hence all . . . enjoy the same fundamental human dignity and rights,”
they affirmed the Church’s stance on the unity of the human race. Believing that all people “have been redeemed by Jesus Christ and enjoy
the same supernatural dignity and rights as members of the Mystical
Body of Christ,” the Grand Coteau members maintained that all human
beings were valued equally in the eyes of God. And as citizens of the
United States,these men appealed to the Constitution and Bill of Rights,
which “guarantee the same human and civil rights to all its citizens,” to
support the notion that the current socio-political arrangement in the
country was seriously flawed. Given these presuppositions, the practice
of racial segregation could not be justified.27
In “Moral Aspects,” the Jesuits also affirmed a human being’s right to
physical, moral, intellectual, and social integrity. In doing so, they again
concluded that segregation based on race was untenable. Physical integrity (i.e., the right to a full physical life) included the right to food,
shelter, marriage, a home, decent working conditions, medical and hospital care, and recreation. Moral integrity included a person’s right to
worship, while freedom of religion meant the right to worship God, to
obtain religious education, and to receive moral instruction. Worship
and participation in liturgical practices were not to be restricted due to
one’s state in life. Intellectual integrity called for allowing a person to
develop his or her mental capabilities with access to educational opportunities offered by the Church or State. Social integrity, understood
as the right to live peacefully in community with one’s neighbors,
included the right “to give and receive from all without hindrance
or humiliation the common signs of courtesy which human dignity
demands.”28
After stating and defining the fundamental principles by which the
race question would be evaluated, the province representatives then
set out to define and evaluate the substance of segregation. These Jesuits defined racial segregation as “the separation of one race from another in the ordinary affairs of community living on the sole basis of

Ibid.
Ibid.

27

28

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

493

difference of race and which is achieved either by specific laws or by
concerted moral pressure on the part of the segregating race.” Given
this definition and the fundamental principles stated above, the attendees concluded that racial segregation was “morally evil as it violated
commutative justice [that is, fairness in agreements and exchanges between people29] since it implicitly denied the unity of the human family
and the equal rights of all men.” Hence, racial segregation was deemed
to be “in itself, unjust and intrinsically evil.”30
By calling racial segregation morally and intrinsically evil, the Jesuits
left no doubt in the mind of anyone reading this document of the gravity of the situation.The inference was that no Catholic, no individual for
that matter, could approve or participate in such an evil, for to do so
would endanger his immortal soul. The participants stated quite clearly
that “we may not approve of the pattern [of segregation] nor may we
cooperate in any formal act of injustice toward the Negro.”31 Later in
their deliberations the Jesuits would clarify how one was to live and
work within the confines of Jim Crow Society, but for now they had
taken a principled stand. The race question was no longer only a social
issue; it had become a moral one.
In the section entitled “Obligatory Attitudes and Aims,” the Grand
Coteau members defended the rights of blacks to physical, moral, intellectual, and social development. The thinking here was that if blacks
could improve themselves culturally, educationally, and economically,
they would make themselves more acceptable to the white community.
The Jesuits stated that their “proximate objective should be to make
meaningful [for blacks] the admittedly God-given and constitutionally
protected rights to approximately equal facilities and opportunities
for the good life on a natural and supernatural plane.” The choice of
words is puzzling, as the sentence appears to negate all that the members had been striving to accomplish in defending the rights of black
men and women as well as their efforts to denounce segregation. One
possible interpretation of this statement could be Jesuit acceptance of
the “separate but equal” standard found in the 1896 Plessy v. Ferguson
Supreme Court decision. In the final draft of the province policy state29
Because the moral theologians who reviewed the final draft of the policy statement
took issue with the use of the term “commutative justice,”it was replaced with the phrase
“laws of God.” John Ford to Cecil Lang, October 9, 1952, and John R. Connery to Cecil
Lang, September 28, 1952, ANOSJ.
30
MPIR.
31
Ibid. Emphasis in original.

494 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

ment this wording remained; however, in the promulgated version the
word “approximately” was omitted. In removing a potential source of
confusion, the Jesuits also rejected the tenets of Plessy.32
Whether defending the rights of blacks or promoting their advancement in society, the Jesuits were reminded that the challenge to segregation and segregationist attitudes was an attack against “an institution,
a social habit, a deeply ingrained attitude of mind of large sections of
the social body, an attitude which causes Collective Action to put pressure on Individual Action to bring it in line with a pattern of behavior
sanctioned by the Institution.” As far as these men were concerned,
“[t]he power of such an Institution can be broken only by institutionalizing a contrary idea.”
The idea to be institutionalized must have a solid foundation and contain no
extreme view if we are to win over a sufficient number of right-minded and
influential men to embrace the idea and its consequences and thus start the
new institution on the way of becoming a “going concern.” We must insist
upon the idea of “justice for all” and the idea that it is far worse to be the perpetrator of an act of injustice than to be the victim of it.33

While the first two sessions dealt with the theoretical aspects of the
race issue, the remaining deliberations addressed the practical applications. A considerable amount of time was spent debating whether or
not blacks should be admitted into Jesuit institutions of higher learning
(i.e., Loyola University of the South and Spring Hill College), and if so,
how would this process of integration take place. In subsequent sessions the Grand Coteau Jesuits focused on committee reports dealing
with secondary education, parishes, retreat houses, and the order itself.
As the provincial had instructed the attendees to develop interracial
policy directives for each of the major apostolic works in the province,
these documents set out the principles and guidelines the Jesuits
would follow in bringing about an end to racial segregation. After a
thorough discussion and debate of the various committee reports, the
full membership of the Grand Coteau assembly voted either to approve
or reject the recommendations therein.
As far as implementation was concerned, the provincial reminded
members that the local superior and his advisors would have discretionary powers in carrying out the new province policy. Furthermore,
he emphasized the fact that once a policy statement was promulgated
Ibid. Emphasis added.
Ibid. Emphasis in original.

32

33

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

495

“it was not to be lightly departed from, although local situations would
be worked out by the Rector [i.e., religious superior] and consultors of
the house affected.”34
William Crandell also informed the attendees that news of this policy
change was not to be made public. Jesuits were instructed not to give
statements to the local press, journals, or magazines; the student newspapers were not to be informed or allowed to publish the fact that
the Jesuits had decided to integrate. For Crandell, these proceedings
were to be considered confidential, and could be kept private if Jesuits
“would exercise prudence in such matters.” He did acknowledge that
eventually the public would learn of the policy change, but none of the
Jesuits knew what the reaction would be.“For that very reason” Crandell explained,“it would be very imprudent to publicize the matter or
engage in any propaganda campaign advertising the fact [at the present
time].”35
The Jesuits came to the realization that inculcating Catholic racial
principles among university and high school students, retreatants, parishioners, and Jesuit applicants, in order to explain the change in policy,
would invite the very publicity the provincial was trying to avoid. One
Grand Coteau attendee viewed any effort to educate the faithful as an
attempt “to break down segregation.” Another member responded that
the intention was not the breaking down of segregation, but rather informing Catholics that blacks would be admitted to Jesuit institutions
and the order itself, and the reasons for adopting this policy. Nevertheless, the provincial reiterated, publicity had to be avoided.36
Failure to justify or explain fully their decision to desegregate would
produce problems for the Jesuits. Some lay Catholics viewed the
province policy as a mistake and a betrayal of racial solidarity. For others the lack of justification allowed them to reject the new standards on
grounds of unorthodoxy.And still others saw this new racial position as
politically motivated.37
Nevertheless, the Jesuits at the Grand Coteau meeting recommended
that at its educational institutions, students, faculty, and staff were to be
instructed in the policy change and obliged to endorse the new standard. To aid in the process, Jesuit faculty and administrators were to exIbid.
Ibid.
36
Ibid.
37
Anderson, op. cit.

34

35

496 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

plain, whether in the classroom or at meetings, church doctrine concerning race relations.At the secondary and tertiary levels of education,
desegregation would take place only in those cities where there were
no Catholic educational institutions for blacks, as the Jesuits did not
want to undermine the work of religious orders that ministered to
blacks38
In Jesuit-administered parishes, pastors were encouraged to preach
on interracial justice in order to educate the faithful. The Grand Coteau
members also suggested that Jesuit pastors include in their sermons
support for civil rights legislation for blacks, improvements in black education, and better housing opportunities for black families. Segregated
seating within Jesuit-run churches was to end,but parochial schools under Jesuit administration were to remain segregated as only the local
bishop could mandate integration.39
Integrating retreat houses in the New Orleans Province would be just
as difficult and delicate an operation as efforts to desegregate the high
schools, college, university, and parishes.Any initiative to include blacks
in a given retreat, the Jesuits believed, should come from the retreatants
themselves. The hope was that well-chosen black leaders would be invited to participate in one of the retreats; gradually the white retreatants
would accept blacks in larger numbers. Preparing the white Catholics
for this eventuality would be accomplished, in part, through such educational means as pamphlets, books, and magazines that dealt with the
race question and that would be made available during a retreat. Also,
through private conferences, confessions, and meditation “points” (i.e.,
items for consideration during the retreat), retreat directors could present the Church’s teaching regarding interracial justice.40
While there were many obstacles that would delay implementation
of the directives of the Grand Coteau meeting, the one area in which
members of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus could efMPIR. In the case of high schools, the parents were also to be informed.
Ibid. The Jesuits referred to the directive from the New Orleans archdiocesan synod
of 1950 held under Archbishop Joseph Francis Rummel:“It shall be our overall purpose,
to remove in our churches the hateful distinction between the faithful according to their
color, so that it is forbidden to designate a part of the church or of the pews for the use
of one or the other race and to separate them when they approach the Eucharistic table.”
Extract of Diocesan Synod, Archdiocese of New Orleans, 1950, Box 47, folder 18, Joseph
Fichter Papers, Special Collections and Archives, Loyola University, New Orleans.
40
MPIR.
38

39

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

497

fect immediate change was entrance into the order itself. The committee examining this issue did just that.They recommended that it should
be “our settled policy not to exclude any postulant [aspirant] to the Society [of Jesus] on the sole grounds of race.” The Jesuits tempered this
advice, however, by strongly suggesting that care be taken when admitting a young black man into the order lest he find himself in an untenable situation. Careful review of an applicant’s appearance, character,
and educational background before admission, they believed, would assure successful assimilation into the order.41
Since the Society of Jesus included both priests and brothers,the members of the Grand Coteau meeting had to decide if brother-candidates or
priest-candidates (more commonly known as scholastics) would be accepted first. Because the priesthood signified full membership within
the hierarchical church and a vocation as a religious brother did not,the
provincial informed the Grand Coteau attendees that the province would
first accept scholastic candidates.42 The decision to accept blacks into
the New Orleans Province was not a first in Louisiana, as the Archdiocese of New Orleans and the Diocese of Lafayette already had black
seminarians.43 Nor was it a first within the order, as the New Orleans
Province was joining other United States Jesuit provinces which already accepted black applicants.44
In order to maintain the standard of non-publicity regarding interracial matters, news of the change in province policy regarding the
acceptance of blacks into the order was to be disseminated only by
word-of-mouth. The provincial would allow nothing more. Crandell did
recommend that Jesuits turn to the one group of people who could
most effectively transmit this news to black Catholic youth—the teaching sisters at the black parochial schools. Whomever the New Orleans
Province accepted, the first black applicants would be carefully
screened in order to fend off any criticism resulting from the change in
policy.45
And so it came to pass that in August, 1952, members of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus agreed on a policy of desegregatIbid.
Ibid.
43
Stephen Ochs, Desegregating the Altar: The Josephites and the Struggle for Black
Priests, 1871–1960 (Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 1990), pp. 336–341, 404–406, 421.
44
Raymond Bernard,“Jim Crow Vocations?,” Social Order, II (1949), 241–243.
45
MPIR.
41

42

498 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

ing their apostolic institutions and the province itself. Those present at
the Grand Coteau meeting discussed and deliberated the merits of producing a policy statement concerning race relations and the steps to be
taken to effect change. Based on their work, Andrew Smith was appointed by William Crandell in September to draft the official province
policy statement; by the first of November he had completed the task.46
At the same time, the provincial sent copies of the draft to several
prominent United States theologians for their comments to ensure orthodox thinking.47 The statement was still subject to approval by the
Jesuit superior general in Rome, John B. Janssens.
Procrastination on the part of the provincial delayed dispatch of the
policy statement to Rome until January, 1954.48 In June of that year,
Janssens returned the policy statement to Crandell with recommended
changes.49 The superior general of the order and his staff reworked two
paragraphs, one dealing with “Moral Aspects” and the other with “General Principles,” to provide clarity and to strengthen the text. And
Janssens also took exception to comments made in the section “Some
Practical Applications to Our Works,” specifically the paragraphs which
pertained to the university and college as well as the novitiate.
Originally the section on higher education called for the admission of
“carefully selected Catholic Negroes, who could not otherwise receive
the higher Catholic training which they desire.” Janssens wondered if
this statement was at all felicitous because he wanted all blacks admitted without stipulations. At present, he commented, the statement
seemed to be saying:“Let us preserve ‘segregation’ if possible; if it is not
entirely possible then we should make concessions.” The Jesuit superior general noted that this was not “the mind of Christ, nor is it, unless
I am wrong, the mind of the one writing this instruction.” He requested
that the phrase be omitted.Concluding his commentary on this section,
Janssens referred to the recent Supreme Court decision (Brown v.
Board of Education), wondering if that ruling did not “earnestly admonish us to proceed very promptly and decisively? For my part it
46
Consultors’ minutes, New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus, September 24,
1952, ANOSJ [hereafter referred to as CMNOSJ].
47
CMNOSJ, November 1, 1952, ANOSJ; John R. Connery, William E. Donnelly, Gerald
Kelly, Joseph Duhamel, John C. Ford, and Edwin Healy were consulted.
48
William Crandell to John B. Janssens, January 23, 1954, ARSI.
49
John B. Janssens to William Crandell, June 17, 1954, ARSI.

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

499

pains me, and I am embarrassed, that a lay power should be ahead of us
who belong to the Church on the path of Christian charity and justice!”50
The final draft policy statement regarding the novitiate stated,“It is
our settled policy not to exclude any postulant to the Society on the
sole grounds of race.” Janssens wanted an affirmative declaration. He
suggested,“It should be positively asserted that race cannot be considered in any regulation in any way whatsoever when it is a question of
our candidates whether they are white, black or of any other color; only
those criteria of fitness can be considered which are defined in Canon
law or our Constitutions.”51
On individual applicants, the draft policy stated that care should be
taken by fellow Jesuits not to encourage blacks “who by their appearance, character, educational background and temperament do not give
the strongest promise of successful assimilation.” Janssens rejected this
thinking. Concerning one’s appearance, he stated, “I cannot approve
that a Negro be rejected because he rather displeases us because of his
‘appearance.’ Whether he is black or white, it is necessary that he have
a ‘respectable appearance’; but this ‘appearance’ cannot be judged according to our narrow norms as white men. A Negro with a large nose
and thick lips appears deformed to us: these are pure prejudices, bordering on the ridiculous—we Religious have no reason to harbor
them.”52
On the question of assimilation, he took issue with the document
here. Janssens believed the notion of “strong promise of assimilation”
was subject to a very negative interpretation. In its stead, he suggested
that assimilation be replaced by “strong promise of useful service in the
Society,” and that this standard would apply to anyone seeking admission into the order.53 When drafting this response to Crandell, Janssens
added a handwritten comment, not included in his final letter, concerning this topic:“I ask that we whites not believe that we have the criteria of a better education among all men. I have long found more
exquisite urbanity, if I might give only one example, among African adoIbid.
Ibid.
52
Ibid. Emphasis in original.
53
Ibid.

50

51

500 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

lescents in the Congo than among us Europeans. I ask that it not be required that they be assimilated to us but rather that we might imitate
them in this manner!”54
In August, 1954, Fathers Andrew Smith and David Druhan were appointed to work on the final editing of the statement on interracial policy, and the following month the policy statement was promulgated.55
The provincial hoped that this declaration would clarify any doubt
province members might have regarding the morality of the interracial
question. In his introduction, he stated,“In accordance with the spirit of
our rule, which exhorts all to teach and say the same thing, all of Ours
will henceforth pattern their teaching along the same lines of this statement here given.This should effectively preclude any exaggerated statement of further moral obligations, unless these be explicitly proposed
as the individual teacher’s peculiar interpretation and not the common
authoritative teaching of the Church or the Society.”56
Thus the final policy statement represented the work of the special
committee on race relations, the deliberations of the Grand Coteau
meeting, and the comments of John B. Janssens. Divided into four parts,
the statement addressed the general principles supporting the province
position, the understanding of segregation and its moral implications,
the obligatory attitudes and aims to be adopted by all, and finally, practical applications.
The provincial declared that the practice of racial segregation, that is,
the separation of one race from another based solely on one’s race and
imposed either by law or custom, was unjust, seriously sinful, and
morally evil. He based this judgment on the fact that racial segregation
violated the fundamental rights of blacks, the laws of God, and the unity
of the human family. Racial segregation, therefore, he concluded,“may
not be approved by a Catholic.”57
Given the social reality of the Southern United States, one is left wondering how anyone could live in the Jim Crow South without committing a sin. Could a Catholic in good conscience ride on a segregated
street car, eat in a segregated restaurant, attend a segregated church service, or go to an all-white school, without committing a sin? The provinDraft letter of John B. Janssens to William Crandell, June 2, 1954, ARSI.
CMNOSJ, August 31, 1954, ANOSJ.
56
William Crandell, “Declaration on the Interracial Question,” September 9, 1954,
ANOSJ.
57
Ibid.
54

55

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

501

cial clarified that neither may one approve of segregation nor may anyone “formally cooperate in any violation of the Negroes’ rights.” But, in
order to prevent a greater evil, he continued, “we may allow a lesser
evil; but we may not positively do a moral evil or formally cooperate
with a moral evil.” An individual, due to collective pressure and social
patterns, could still live in a segregated world as long as he or she did
not do anything to advance or enforce it.58
If the reason for separating the races was something extrinsically
connected with race, Crandell reasoned, then a Catholic might tolerate
“an already existing pattern of segregation in limited fields and temporarily for reasons not based on racial prejudice, but which are accidental, such as, for example, a notable difference in the intellectual,
moral or cultural attainment levels of the groups.”One was not absolved
from acting, Crandell noted, as positive steps were to be taken to remove the cause for separation.59
As decided at the August, 1952, meeting concerning “attitudes and
obligations,”all Jesuits were to take every reasonable opportunity to defend black Americans’ rights: civil, religious, intellectual, social, cultural,
and physical. They were also to help do away with the cultural, educational, and economic differences between blacks and whites with the
hope that in doing so Jesuits would assist in making blacks more acceptable to whites.Regarding the issue of personal relations (which the
document called “etiquettes of personal relations”), the province policy
endorsed the principle of voluntary association. Individuals were not to
be forced to socialize together.60
In order to prepare the Catholics for the change brought about by
this new policy, the Jesuits recommended that Catholic-Christian principles concerning race relations be presented to all concerned. With
care and prudence, each apostolic institution was to be integrated as
the situation presented itself. The provincial again counseled against
publicity regarding these changes.“We do not want headlines, but results. The more casual we can be in matters like this, the greater seems
to be the prospect of solid achievement.”61
Even though the policy called for integration, the decision to desegregate an institution or a division within a institution rested with the loIbid. Emphasis in original.
Ibid. Emphasis in original.
60
Ibid.
61
Ibid.

58

59

502 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

cal superior and his advisors. The provincial cautioned those who
might want to hasten the process of integration; it was not “to be hurried or anticipated.” Before any action was taken, the institution was to
seek the approval of the provincial and inform the local bishop; this
proviso would hold true for all Jesuit institutions and apostolic endeavors in the province.62
In closing, Crandell urged province members to follow and embrace
the policy with open minds and hearts. He told the members that he
did not expect that everything he said would be accepted with their
“unqualified and enthusiastic assent.” But, he did expect,“as a result of a
careful adherence to the principles, policy and program outlined in this
letter, a marked improvement in uniformity of doctrine, in the avoidance of extreme statements on one side or the other, and, in general, in
the tempering of zeal with prudence and the preservation of a quiet
spirit.”63
Implementing this new policy directive would result in an irregular
pattern of desegregation as some apostolic endeavors would accept
black Catholics immediately, while others needed more time. Failure to
desegregate immediately all Jesuit activities has led some historians to
claim that the New Orleans Province was ineffectual in bringing about
social and moral change in the Church.64 While full implementation
of policy took several years to complete, Southern Jesuits began the
process of desegregation immediately after the August meeting in Grand
Coteau—two years before the province policy statement was officially
promulgated.
In October, 1952, Norman Francis, later to become president of
Xavier University in New Orleans, and Ben Johnson, a local businessman, integrated the school of law of Loyola University of the South. Fannie Ernestine Motley graduated from Spring Hill College in 1956,having
desegregated the institution two years earlier. In Letter from Birmingham Jail,Martin Luther King, Jr.,commended the Catholic leaders of Alabama “for integrating Spring Hill College several years ago.” Whether
he realized it or not, King was praising the Jesuits of the New Orleans
Province as the college was one of their apostolic ministries.In New Orleans, Loyola University officials waited until 1962, the year Archbishop

Ibid.
Ibid.
64
Adam Fairclough, Race and Democracy in Louisiana 1915–1972 (Athens, Georgia,
1996), pp. 171–174.
62

63

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

503

Rummel mandated desegregation in the archdiocese, to accept black
applicants into their undergraduate program.65
The decision not to integrate Loyola University of the South until the
early 1960’s is of note, given that the Jesuits appeared to be saying one
thing and doing another: calling for desegregation but waiting till outside forces (e.g.,court rulings or a change in archdiocesan policy) made
it safe to do so. Religious leaders of the New Orleans Province of the
Society of Jesus were concerned with institutional viability; however,
they also had to take into account the concerns and cares of the religious order serving the higher educational needs of black Catholics in
New Orleans, the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, and their institution,
Xavier University of New Orleans, the only black Catholic institution of
higher learning in the United States. The Jesuits feared that admitting
blacks to Loyola would have a negative impact on Xavier, damaging its
viability and ultimately causing its demise. Unintended consequences
would result from attempting to right a wrong.
The one Jesuit high school which did receive minor coverage when it
desegregated was Dallas Jesuit High School, which admitted Arthur Allen
and Charles Edmond in the fall of 1955. The local newspaper reports of
the event caused only a minor disturbance. Many people, indeed, praised
the Jesuits for their decision; and at the school, the white students accepted the change in racial customs and tradition without incident.66
Numa Rousseve, Jr., a French Creole Catholic from New Orleans became the first black accepted into the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus in July, 1956. He was the son of a professor at Xavier
University of New Orleans and the nephew to a religious priest and sister. His aunt, Theresa Vincent, S.S.F., a member of the Sisters of the Holy
Family, belonged to the second religious order founded in the United
States for women of color. His uncle, Maurice Rousseve, S.V.D., was a
member of the Society of the Divine Word. Ordained in 1937, Father
Rousseve was only the twentieth black Catholic to become a priest in
the United States.67
65
Anderson, op. cit.; Martin Luther King, Letter from Birmingham Jail (New York,
1963), p. 89; Charles S. Padgett,“Without Hysteria or Unnecessary Disturbance: Desegregation at Spring Hill College, Mobile, Alabama, 1948–1954,” History of Education Quarterly, 41 (Summer, 2001), 167–188; New York Times, May 30, 1956.
66
“Minister’s Diary,” Jesuit High School Dallas, 1953–1956, p. 96, and “House History,”
Dallas High School, 1955, p. 3, Dallas Jesuit College Preparatory School Archives.
67
Numa Rousseve, Jr., interview by author, tape recording, White Plains, New York, January 15, 2000; Ochs, op. cit., pp. 343–344, 456.

504 BLACK, WHITE, AND CATHOLIC: SOUTHERN JESUITS CONFRONT THE RACE QUESTION, 1952

Just as there was no publicity surrounding the integration of Loyola’s
law school or the integration of Spring Hill College, there was no publicity surrounding the admission of Numa Rousseve into the Jesuit novitiate in 1956. No special meetings were held to advise those already
living in Grand Coteau that a black novice would be among their number. None of the entering white novices were informed ahead of time
that a person of color was also admitted to their novitiate class, and no
special attention was given to his presence once he had arrived.68
Several months after Rousseve’s entrance into the novitiate, the master of novices, Anthony Mangiaracina, S.J., reported to his superior in
Rome that all was well in Grand Coteau. The first black novice fitted in
perfectly, he stated, and “there has not been the slightest difficulty because of his presence.” Indeed, the novice master hoped that God
would send more young men like Rousseve to the novitiate. In 1958
Lionel Honoré, S.J., currently professor of foreign languages at the College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts, became the second
black to enter the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus. Numa
Rousseve’s brother, Bartholomew, entered the order a year later in
1959.70
69

In 1999 Turner Network Television studios produced a made-fortelevision movie “Passing Glory,”which recounted an unofficial 1965 interracial high school basketball game in New Orleans between the
all-male, predominantly white, Jesuit High School (founded in 1847)
and the black, all-male, St. Augustine High School (established in 1951).
The movie led one to believe that this was the first integrated ball game
ever played in the city, as Jesuit High School was presented as still being
segregated. However, Jesuit High School had desegregated three years
before, in 1962, and graduated its first black students,Thomas Lawrence
Fornerette and Wesley Joseph Watkins, III, in 1964—one year before
this game took place.71
There was little fanfare attached to these significant changes in the
racial customs and practices of the day, but that is how the members of
the Society of Jesus wanted it. They said so at the 1952 meeting when
they made the decision to adopt a policy of desegregation. Perhaps that
68
Philip Postell, S.J., interview by author, written notes, Dallas, Texas, January 18, 2000;
Gerald Fagin, S.J., interview by author, written notes, New Orleans, January 24, 2000; Edward Buvens, S.J., interview by author, written notes, New Orleans, January 26, 2000.
69
Anthony Mangiaracina to John B. Janssens, January 4, 1957, ARSI.
70
Numa Rousseve left the Jesuit order in 1967, his brother in 1975.
71
Anthony McGinn to author, June 2, 1996, personal possession.

BY R. BENTLEY ANDERSON

505

is why there is so little known of this history.Nevertheless,several years
before the classical period of the Modern Civil Rights Movement began,
Jesuits of the New Orleans Province of the Society of Jesus launched
their own movement to end racial discrimination in the United States.
The process of desegregation would take time—these Jesuits knew it—
but there was no retreating from the principled stand they had taken.

BOOK REVIEWS

General
Bonds of Imperfection: Christian Politics, Past and Present. By Oliver O’Donovan and Joan Lockwood O’Donovan. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B.
Eerdmans Publishing Company. 2004. Pp. vi, 324. $35.00 paperback.)
The authors of the dozen essays gathered together in this volume present them
as “an accompaniment”to their splendid From Irenaeus to Grotius:A Sourcebook
in Christian Political Thought (1996). Self-confessedly “explorations in ‘the political’ . . . from a perspective formed by the Bible and the Latin theological tradition,”
the essays fall into two groups. The first represents an historical or “constructive”
engagement with various moments in what the O’Donovans refer to as “the Christian political past” or “the older theo-political tradition.” The second involves a
largely critical engagement with “contemporary approaches, ideas, and institutions” conducted in the light of that older theo-political tradition. The disparate
nature of the pieces assembled here appears to have precluded any really helpful
labeling of the two groupings. Part I is simply entitled “Moments in the Theological-Political Tradition”; Part II,“Contemporary Themes: Liberal Democracy, the Nation-State, Localities, and Internationalism.” These titles not affording much of a
clue to the contents of the book, a full listing of essay titles would appear to be
called for. Thus, grouped together in Part I are the following:“History and Politics
in the Book of Revelation”;“The Political Thought of City of God 19”;“Christian
Platonism and Non-proprietary Community”;“The Theological Economics of Medieval Usury Theory”;“The Christian Pedagogy and Ethics of Erasmus”;“The Challenge and the Promise of Proto-modern Political Thought”; “The Justice of
Assignment and Subjective Rights in Grotius.”And in Part II:“Government as Judgment”; “Subsidiarity and Political Authority in Theological Perspective”; “Karl
Barth and Paul Ramsey’s ‘Uses of Power’”;“Nation, State, and Civil Society in the
Western Political Tradition”;“The Loss of a Sense of Place.”
The whole is prefaced by a substantial introductory essay in the course of
which the authors bluntly affirm that their commitment to taking the older
“theo-political”tradition seriously necessarily implies a “confrontational stance”
toward the commonplaces which are universally supposed “to shore up our contemporary political institutions—the commonplaces of republican freedom and
self-government, of popular sovereignty and the rights of individuals and com-

506

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507

munities.” At the same time they confess the hope that the several essays, their
disparate nature notwithstanding, will offer “a progressively unfolding coherence.”It is not clear,however,that that hope has been realized here,and I suspect
that even those readers who are not unsympathetic with the author’s project
and who are reasonably familiar with the tradition and the texts under discussion will find something of a gap between authorial aspiration and achievement.
It would be churlish not to acknowledge that these are learned essays. They
rest on the foundation of an erudition at once both broad-ranging and specialized. They are also, almost invariably, deeply thoughtful pieces. In the latter respect, I myself was especially taken with Oliver O’Donovan’s “Loss of a Sense of
Place” and Joan Lockwood O’Donovan’s “The Challenge and Promise of Protomodern Political Thought.”But it has also to be noted that the authors cannot usually be said to wear their learning lightly. Most if not all of the essays, moreover,
appear to have been written with a theologically-oriented readership in mind.For
an historian of political thought, certainly, they manage unwittingly to convey
something of an “in-house” feel, and appear to be speaking largely to those who
can be relied upon to bring to what they have to say a set of presuppositions
shared comfortably with the authors. The nature of the criticisms the latter (explicitly or implicitly) direct at the commonplaces believed to inform contemporary liberal-democratic political life is clear enough. Less clear, however, is the
nature of the assumptions they would put in their place—assumptions, at least,
capable of speaking to those who do not share (or fully share) their own, warm
Christian commitments.Talk about “politics as judgment”is a case in point.It constitutes the closest thing to a leitmotif running through the book. But here, as in
Oliver O’Donovan’s earlier book, The Desire of Nations (1996), despite repeated
invocations of and allusions to the notion of judgment, what exactly it might entail in a modern political society remains frustratingly elusive. While students of
politics and theology have doubtless much to learn from this volume,I find it a bit
of a stretch, then, to claim (with one of the commentators on the book jacket)
that they are likely to find the book “indispensable.”
FRANCIS OAKLEY
Williams College

Religion and the Cold War. Edited by Dianne Kirby. [Cold War History Series.]
(New York: Palgrave Macmillan. 2003. Pp. xiii, 245. $95.00.)
Dianne Kirby, lecturer in the School of History and International Affairs at the
University of Ulster, has edited an interesting volume of thirteen essays, twelve
of which were originally presented at a conference held at the same university
in April, 2000. Her fundamental tenet, vigorously defended in her introductory
essay and echoed in each of the subsequent papers, is that religion must be
recognized by scholars “not only as a vital ingredient essential for a full understanding of the Cold War, but also as a means of bringing fresh new

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perspectives into Cold War scholarship” ( p. xiii). Decrying the absence of this
consideration in so much of the historiography produced by the decidedly secularized Academy, she has helped to remedy the situation through this contribution, which should be of interest to scholars of the period.
The papers included are focused almost entirely within a North Atlantic and
European perspective. With a heavy emphasis on the Catholic Church, the volume includes some consideration of Orthodox and Protestant themes and issues. The volume could well be entitled “Christianity and the Cold War in
Europe and North America.” But I do not mean to suggest that the material is
too limited or parochial. Rather, it suggests that the volume is but a beginning to
a study of the Cold War that includes the reality of religious perspectives and
beliefs as motives and causes of individual and collective decisions and actions
in human history. Studies that consider religion and religious belief along with
other causes and effects of the Cold War in Latin America, for example, while
not entirely absent, are rare. So too, it seems, are studies which consider such a
perspective with regard to the Islamic world. It might be hoped that the conference which led to this volume would spawn others that would be even more
inclusive.
With regard to the Russian Orthodox Church, Anna Dickenson of the University of Birmingham argues that the wartime concessions by the USSR, necessitated by the state’s need to survive, in the end enabled the long-term
survival of the Church. The ironical posture of Stalin, who used a loyal Orthodox patriarchate in order to eliminate underground churches and thus to destroy religious opposition to the regime, has, of course, left consequences that
have outlived the Cold War. There is some further consideration of the Soviet
State in the article on cinematic propaganda in the 1950’s by Tony Shaw of the
University of Hertfordshire.Shaw compares the approach to religious themes in
the USSR with those found in British and American films. He claims that these
presentations were very important in the formation of popular conceptions of
the Cold War.
Specifically Protestant perspectives and themes are taken up by Matthew D.
Hockenos of Skidmore College, Hartmut Lehmann, the Director of the MaxPlank-Institut für Geschichte in Göttingen, and Ian Jones of the University of
Sheffield. Hockenos discusses in some detail the process by which the Confessing Church’s Council of Brethren attempted to come to grips with Lutheran
collaboration with the Nazi regime. The political influence of the Darmstadt
statement (1947), calling for a socially activist church, is also highlighted.
Lehmann creatively presents the shift in ideology of the German Democratic
Republic, which led to dramatic rehabilitation of the image of Martin Luther
and the relativizing of the image of Thomas Münster. In this context, he has interesting observations to make with regard to the demise of Marxist historical
scholarship in the 1970’s. Jones explores local Anglican responses to the EastWest conflict in postwar England.

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Catholicism and political history are studied in the essays by Frank J. Coppa,
professor of history at St. John’s University, Peter C. Kent of the University of
New Brunswick, John Pollard,Charles R.Gallagher,S.J.,of the College of the Holy
Cross,and Paul Hainsworth of the University of Ulster.Coppa and Kent reach different conclusions with regard to the effectiveness of Pius XII’s leadership in the
struggle against Communism. Coppa describes the abandonment of a stance of
neutrality, for which Pius was noted during World War II, in favor of an “alliance”
with the western bloc.He notes,however,the shift to a non-aligned status by the
end of the same papacy. Kent recognizes Pius’ efforts, but finds him to have been
more isolated than aligned with any world powers. Pollard’s “The Vatican, Italy,
and the Cold War” finds the stance toward Communism more intransigent on
the Italian home front than in relation to Eastern Europe.Hainsworth focuses his
study on instances of communist-Catholic rapprochement in Cold War France,
dating from the time of the anti-Nazi Resistance movements.
Gallagher’s article,“The United States and the Vatican in Yugoslavia, 1945–50,”
covers a fascinating period. He chronicles the covert diplomatic contact between the Holy See and the United States in Belgrade made possible by the appointment of an American bishop, Joseph P. Hurley, to the Apostolic Nunciature
there. That partnership does not last long, however, in light of the U.S. silence
with regard to the Stepinac case. Regrettably, the essay is marred by several errors of fact (e.g., “Giuseppe B. Montini, Pope Pius XII’s assistant Secretary of
State,” and “Secretary of State Allen Dulles”) and by a journalistic rather than
scholarly tone (e.g., “In an astonishing departure from the Christian ‘swordsinto-plowshares’ philosophy . . . ,” and “Never before had the United States government been so interested . . .”).
Finally,“Between War and Peace: Politics, Religion and Human Rights in Early
Cold War Canada,1945–50,”by George Egerton (University of British Columbia),
demonstrates how different the world of Canadian politics and religion was in
the 1940’s from that seen today.In that earlier period,because of the widespread
support for explicitly religious values, as well as the commitment to the traditions of British jurisprudence, the constitutional innovation of a statutory bill of
rights was deemed unnecessary. In “Harry Truman’s Religious Legacy: The Holy
Alliance, Containment and the Cold War,” Dianne Kirby ably defends her thesis
that religion was a “strategic weapon in the Cold War arena”of Mr.Truman’s day.
She also points out that Ronald Reagan and Pope John Paul II finally achieved the
kind of overt alliance that Truman and Pius XII had hoped for.
All of the papers are accompanied by scholarly endnotes and there is a helpful index for the entire volume. This book is an important contribution to what
should be a freer discussion of religion and religious themes in standard historiography.
JAMES F. GARNEAU
Mount Olive College, North Carolina

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Ancient
Symbolic Blackness and Ethnic Difference in Early Christian Literature. By
Gay L. Byron (New York: Routledge. 2002. Pp. xii, 223. $31.95.)
Interest in ancient ethnic, cultural, and religious identities has experienced a
dramatic increase in recent years. Whereas earlier treatments produced surveys
of ancient Greek and Roman perceptions of Ethiopians, Byron’s contribution in
this slim volume is to explore the ways that such perceptions could be manipulated by Christian authors to function within larger literary and theological
programs. She terms such manipulations “ethno-political rhetorics”and seeks to
locate the ways in which “vituperative and idealized representations” of Egyptians, Ethiopians, and Blacks “were used to prescribe the boundaries and selfdefinitions of early Christian communities” ( p. 6) by drawing on the insights of
rhetorical criticism, ethnocriticism, and gender criticism (chap. 1). In order to
unpack the variety and force of such rhetorical strategies, she constructs a taxonomy of all possible uses of these ethnonyms and the geographical locations
associated with them in both classical and Christian literature. The various
markers of ethnic identity, from mythical idealization and sexual temptation to
physical phenotype, are thus classed within three main rhetorical categories
governing the geopolitical, the moral-spiritual, and the descriptive characterizations (chap. 2). An approach that seems at first promising quickly disappoints,
however, as Byron’s taxonomical survey of the sources remains fairly thin at
best (e.g., her chronologically and literarily incongruous pastiche of quotations,
from Herodotus, Ammianus, and Lucian, without a single word of evaluative
commentary, p. 40), or plain false at worst (e.g., her adducing of Martial’s poem
on his sexual attractions to a black girl as the sole evidence for Ethiopians as
“models of virtue” in classical authors, p. 38). Such errors are compounded by
others later in the book (e.g., the assertion that the pagan Philostratus was a
“desert father”and his Life of Apollonius of Tyana was representative of monastic views of Egypt and Ethiopia, p. 79).
The second half of the book focuses on particular areas identified in her taxonomy in order to offer closer readings of the relevant sources. In the first of
these (chap. 3), she isolates blackness as symbolic for evil and vice. Readers may
not be persuaded by her argument that the two brief references to the devil as
“the Black One” in the Epistle of Barnabas constitute a thoroughgoing rhetorical strategy in themselves, or her suggestion that the application of the epithet
“black” to the devil was influenced by the presence of Ethiopians in Alexandria
( pp. 60–65). Oddly, where a case might more plausibly be made for connecting
symbolic blackness with Ethiopian ethnicity in the Shepherd of Hermas, Byron
refuses to take the term genos in its racial sense, instead opting for the vague
“way” ( pp. 67–68). Origen’s well-known statements from the homily and commentary on Song of Songs are adduced as more straightforward evidence of
the Christian equation of (Ethiopian) blackness with sin ( pp. 72–75), though
other relevant passages are missing from the discussion (e.g., de Orat. 27 [PG

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511

11.516A-B]; Select. Ezech. 30 [PG 13.824C-825A]). Byron finds firmer footing in
her discussion of the perceived role of Ethiopians (male and female) in narratives of sexual temptation in Egyptian monastic literature (chap. 4). While negative portrayals of Ethiopians in such temptation scenes need not depend upon
a heightened Romanization of Egyptians in late antiquity ( p. 79), such scenes
certainly exhibit an attempt to construct a more compelling definition of ascetic virtue. An analysis of the Ethiopian as a trope for delineating variously either heresy or moral exemplarity concludes the book (chap. 5). Marred by the
periodic misconstrual of sources, Byron’s emphasis on ethno-political rhetorical strategies nonetheless constitutes a serious methodological advance in the
scholarship on ancient Ethiopians and Christian ethnic perceptions.
AARON P. JOHNSON
Baylor University

Religion et Sépulture: L’Église, les vivants et les morts dans l’Antiquité tardive. By Éric Rebillard. [Civilisations et sociétés,Vol. 15.] (Paris: Éditions de
l’École des hautes études en sciences sociales. 2003. Pp. 243. €22.00.)
Since G.-B. de Rossi’s La Roma sotterranea cristiana (Rome: Cromolitografia
pontificia, 1864), the opinio communis has been that at least by the beginning
of the third century, Christians owned and managed cemeteries and that it soon
became normative for Christians to be buried in such church-controlled cemeteries. Rebillard’s point of departure is the question, if the earliest church already controlled cemeteries reserved for the Christian dead, why do medieval
legislators make no reference to this? His thesis comes in several parts: that the
evidence of Christian control of cemeteries in the third century is much less
convincing than has been supposed;that in the third century burial in a churchcontrolled cemetery was far from the norm; that it was not the Church that defined tomb violation as a crime, but rather the state; that the Church’s principal
interest was in the burial of martyrs; and that there was no standardized funeral
liturgy (since it was the family rather than the Church that was involved in the
burial of most of the Christian dead).
The two main texts supporting the traditional view are Hippolytus, Ref. 9.12,
according to which Pope Zephyrinus appointed the deacon and future pope
Callixtus to be in charge of to koimeterion, identified by most with the famous
catacomb of San Callisto. From approximately the same time Tertullian’s Ad
Scapulam 3 refers to pagans who objected to the existence of burial grounds
(areae) for Christians. Rebillard points out that the Greek koimeterion originally referred to individual tombs, not communal cemeteries, and that in Latin
coemeterium was probably equivalent to martyrion rather than designating a
general place for Christian dead.Valerian’s decree of 257, forbidding Christians
to visit “their places called koimeteria” (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 7.11.10) makes little sense if koimeteria referred to ordinary graves, since the emperor could

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hardly forbid Christians to bury their dead. As far as Ad Scapulam 3 is concerned, Rebillard argues that Carthaginian pagans were not objecting to the
existence of areae reserved for Christians,“mais plus vraisemblablement les enclos dont ils savaient que les propriétaires étaient chrétiens” ( p. 20).
Apostolic Tradition 40 would seem to contradict Rebillard’s thesis, since it
prescribes that the poor should not be overcharged for burial in the koimeteria ( plural!) since “it is the property of every poor person” and that the bishop
should support those who care for cemeteries lest they become a burden on
those who use them. Rebillard points out, however, that the original Greek of
the Apostolic Tradition is not preserved, nor is the Latin for this section. What
has been preserved is a Sahidic version dating from about the sixth century.
Moreover, he distinguishes two parts of the prescriptions of chapter 40: one
which requires burial places to be provided for the poor, which does not necessarily imply that the Church possessed or managed such places; and the other
which indicated only that if the Church did own such cemeteries, the bishop
should ensure that nothing was demanded of the poor to be buried there ( p.
134). Rebillard’s interpretations of these texts seem possible but hardly compelling and do not successfully exclude the more usual interpretations, that the
Roman Church possessed cemeteries controlled by the bishop.
Throughout Rebillard insists that the choice of a place of burial was not imposed by the Church; Christians “had no religious reason to privilege a form of
communal burial at the expense of burial by families” ( p. 49). Collegia also offered burial for members, which offered another possibility for burial for Christians who were members of such professional or neighborhood groups. But he
argues that membership in a collegium would not have necessarily made burial
by the collegium more likely; on the contrary the family remained the “communauté naturelle” for burial. Having rightly rejected the older fiction of collegia
devoted exclusively to burial (the so-called collegia funeraticia), he also concludes that “les collèges ne constituent donc pas un modèle de sépulture communautaire qu’auraient pu imiter les chrétiens” ( p. 55). This argument in my
view overestimates the role of ‘choice’ and underestimates the factor of poverty;
collegia were attractive not only for the social benefits they afforded but also
because they could provide burials for persons whose families—if they had
families—were unable to provide burials by virtue of their economic and social
status. This appears to be precisely what is behind the comments in Apostolic
Tradition 40, and suggests that the Church in Rome at least did follow the lead
of collegia in providing burials for its members, something that De Rossi had
suggested more than a century ago.
Notwithstanding a few disagreements with Rebillard’s interpretations of literary and epigraphical evidence, Religion et sépulture has the great virtue of
offering a fresh and challenging re-examination of a question that has been considered for the most part closed. The issue of how the Church came to be involved in what was originally a family (or occasionally a state) matter, is not yet

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answered in full, and Rebillard’s monograph should spark important rethinkings of old solutions.
JOHN S. KLOPPENBORG
University of Toronto

Didymus the Blind and his Circle in Late-Antique Alexandria: Virtue and
Narrative in Biblical Scholarship. By Richard A. Layton. (Urbana and
Chicago: University of Illinois Press. 2004. Pp. ix, 217. $44.95.)
Although well-known to patristic scholars, Didymus the Blind is not a name
likely to ring bells of recognition in the minds of those less ensconced in the
world of the early Church. Yet, even within the relatively small universe of patristic studies, few have taken the time to probe the mysteries of Didymus’ corpus. This neglect stems not from a lack of interest in this ancient exegete but
from the general failure of the tradition to transmit copies of his work to posterity. Casualties of anti-Origenist sentiment in sixth-century Byzantium, a lone set
of papyri were secretly buried in a cave deep beneath an Egyptian monastery
near modern Cairo.There the manuscripts remained until accidentally unearthed
by the British in 1941.From the discovery of these so-called Tura papyri to their
nearly complete publication in 1985, most academic attention to Didymus was
given to the preparation of editions and not so much to the close analysis of
his corpus that could enhance modern understanding of Christianity in fourthcentury Alexandria. This is the gap that Layton seeks to fill with this book.
In this tightly argued and interesting book, Layton claims that “Didymus
earned the admiration of his contemporaries . . . because the activity of his
school engaged the hopes and anxieties of Alexandrian Christians during a pivotal era of the city’s history” ( p. 6). In Layton’s view, unlike Origen before him
or Gregory of Nyssa slightly later, Didymus’ impact must be understood locally,
against the backdrop of the city of Alexandria. Didymus’ interests were largely
parochial, but, Layton argues, this is precisely what is most interesting about
Didymus’ surviving works. Acting almost like a palimpsest, Didymus exegetical
works cover a world of discourse between master and disciple that was deeply
engaged with the critical moral issues of the day.
Standing in the school tradition of Clement and Origen, we encounter Layton’s Didymus at the center of an exegetical circle, or “school.” The primary activity of this circle was to read the Bible. This reading, however, was not just a
project designed to produce deeper understanding. It was, more significantly, a
project by which the reader was able to find in the texts a “mimetic”map of the
Christian life itself. Because the primarily intellectual inspiration for this project
was Origen and because the work of the circle focused on exploring the wider
implications of Origen’s central vision, Layton says that Didymus and his students were engaged in a kind of ancient “scholasticism.” This does not mean

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that Didymus and his followers were mere clones of Origen, but it does suggest
a continuity with the great master that must be recognized and acknowledged.
The bulk of Layton’s book is devoted to teasing out these broad themes as
they emerge in the interpretation of various books of the Bible. For example, in
Chapter two, Layton describes how Didymus, building upon the popular usage
of the psalms in church life, interpreted this ancient poetry as a narrative of religious ascent toward spirit and immutability. Similarly, in chapter three,“Job the
Gnostic,” Layton explains how Didymus transformed Job into an imitable hero.
Unlike modern readers who are troubled with questions of theodicy in the face
of Job’s suffering, those in Didymus’ circle wrestled to appropriate Job’s forbearance:“As a saint who has attained the pinnacle of gnosis, Job teaches the
friends to embrace God’s providence, not as a resignation to God’s sovereignty,
but as an affirmation of the mysterious divine wisdom” ( p. 84).
Layton’s book goes on to consider other interesting topics. In the fourth
chapter he considers Didymus’ attitude toward human embodiment. In the
fifth, he examines Didymus’ transformation of the stoic idea of “propatheia” and
the blind exegete’s tentative efforts to narrate the complexities of human psychology. Finally, in the sixth chapter, Layton explores Didymus’ engagement
with the theological hot-button topics of his day, from Apollinarianism to antiOrigenist defenses of the resurrection. Through Layton’s careful analysis, the
reader gradually begins to get a sense of the kinds of topics and issues that occupied the circle of Christian scholars in one of Christianity’s greatest cities
during one of its most formative centuries.This is a book for specialists,though,
and is not recommended for readers unfamiliar with the key players and events
of late-antique Christianity.
JOHN J. O’KEEFE
Creighton University

Word, Image and Experience. Dynamics of Miracle and Self-Perception in
Sixth-Century Gaul. By Giselle de Nie. [Variorum Collected Studies Series
CS 771.] (Burlington,Vermont: Ashgate. 2003. Pp. xiv, 374. $114.95.)
The seventeen published articles by Giselle de Nie reproduced in this collection continue the work begun in her book published in 1987, Views from
a Many-Windowed Tower. De Nie studies the imagination of sixth-century
Romano-Gallic culture as revealed in the images and metaphors produced by its
writers to describe miracles, dreams, and “the self.” Her essays highlight such interesting images as contagion, the body, jewels, and broken lamps to delve into
the hidden meanings of texts which often appear on the surface to record
“naive” miracle stories. Indeed, in the examples de Nie has chosen to explore
there is no such thing as a simple miracle story.Viewed under the lens of her analytical method, these stories reveal a complex language of images accessible to

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those with the insight and critical tools to understand them. In order to accomplish this work, De Nie’s text and footnotes are replete with references to
beliefs and images in other cultures and religions in which she sees useful parallels. Furthermore, she argues that these insights can be used to fathom issues
of identity and self-awareness in the writings of Gregory of Tours and Venantius
Fortunatus in particular. This self-awareness is exhibited in an “absence of a delimited interior space, of a clear boundary between ‘self’ and one’s interior
thoughts and feelings, and the visible (or invisible) ‘outside’ world” ( p. xi). The
overriding idea here is that if only we could better understand Gregory’s way of
thinking and modes of expression as coherent on an “imagistic”level, we would
discern a great uniformity of thought behind the man’s work and those of some
of his contemporaries, even though, as she explains, such descriptions are “usually unintentional” on the part of their authors ( p. x).
I suspect one is either wholly convinced or wholly unconvinced by this
methodology. One problem relates to the issue of intentionality, or lack thereof.
Often de Nie states that her authors intended or did not intend a particular
meaning,but often this is asserted as fact more than it is demonstrated textually.
The reader may be left to suspect that the coherence of thought which for de
Nie underlies the images and metaphors employed by these sixth-century authors is not as clearly present in Gregory of Tours’works or in sixth-century culture as a whole. Furthermore, in order to uncover the meaning of particular
images or thought processes, de Nie provides the reader with abundant parallels with other cultures and with insights from modern psychology. These parallels, which to some may appear largely suggestive, are often layered upon one
another without a great deal of historical justification so that the result is often
more interesting than instructive.
De Nie’s approach may also be seen as a defense of Gregory of Tours against
those who downplay the value of his writings. Yet where de Nie finds coherence
in Gregory’s oeuvre, another reader will find that Gregory betrays all the inconsistencies of thinking and varying perspectives of a prolific writer whose career
spanned many decades. For example, sometimes Gregory confesses in his writings that he does not understand what he experiences or what he sees. Such admissions of self-doubt, and what they may imply for cross-cultural imagistic
coherence are not adequately dealt with here. Ultimately, the extent to which
one agrees with de Nie’s analysis may hinge on the view one has of Gregory’s
writings as a historical source. So, have we truly achieved a better understanding
of Gregory’s intentions? That is not always clear. But, as de Nie candidly points
out, her aim is to do more than simply illuminate the intentions or meanings of
these writers to historians; it is her hope that the exercise of her method will
allow us, her readers, to rediscover a dimension of ourselves:“they now appear
to point to a forgotten world in ourselves that is still there to discover” ( p. x).
ISABEL MOREIRA
University of Utah

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Medieval
A Vanished World: Medieval Spain’s Golden Age of Enlightenment. By Chris
Lowney. (New York: Free Press. 2005. Pp. xii, 320. $26.00.)
Lowney’s contribution to the post-September 11, 2001, debate on interfaith
relations takes the form of a popular history of medieval Iberia focusing on the
myth of convivencia (“living together,” but translated here as “common life”)
and its relevance in today’s world. Américo Castro’s famous analysis of the formation of Spanish character through interaction of religious cultures has been
embraced rather more wholeheartedly by students of literature than of history,
and Lowney is enough of a student of the latter discipline to bring nuanced sensitivity to his delineation of the realities of such a utopia. Despite the sanguine
claims of the dust jacket and promotional material accompanying this book,
Lowney’s text does not simplistically assert that today’s world would solve its
problems if only it followed the precepts of medieval Iberia. Medieval kings
who resisted papal instructions to treat their Jewish and Muslim populations
with suspicion and prevent “damnable mixing” of the infidel with Christian
populations usually had sound fiscal and judicial reasons for treading a more tolerant path.Kings and municipalities alike were not driven by philosophic ideals
of social relations nor by cultural or religious relativism. Lowney reminds us
that medieval Christians, Jews, and Muslims in the Iberian kingdoms got along
because they were neighbors and fellow settlers along a shifting frontier, and
what interfaith exchanges resulted took the form of “the pedestrian but rich dialogue of daily life where one learns to accommodate the customs and beliefs
of another through myriad quotidian interactions while baking, laundering,
buying, selling, sowing, and reaping” ( p. 207).
Lowney is a better student of Spanish medieval society than of European
medieval history in general: as an undergraduate student of Hispanist Joseph
O’Callaghan, he learned his lessons well and accurately, and has good mastery
of the relevant bibliography. Unfortunately, when he strays from the Iberian
peninsula, he is subject to the errors that usually mar popular histories of the
Middle Ages. Few medieval historians refer anymore to the early centuries as
the Dark Ages, given the important work accomplished by students of Late Antiquity such as Michael McCormick. The Visigothic period is not considered to
be almost three centuries of unrelieved gloom and ignorance. Shame on the
publisher and the editors who let slip into print the scenario of ignorant peasants cowering at midnight on December 31, 999, in fear of the coming of the
millennium.Otherwise,the work spans Iberian history from the Visigoths to the
Catholic Monarchs, providing a felicitous mixing of political, religious, and intellectual history. Particularly well composed are the chapters on Moses Maimonides and Averroes, and the differing cultural perspectives of the Song of
Roland and the Poema de mio Cid. After a leisurely look at Alfonso X El Sabio’s
cultural and legal achievements, the work hurries to a close with the last two
chapters speeding through the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries to the
events of 1492. The pogroms against Jews in Spain’s largest and most sophisti-

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cated (in modern parlance, multicultural) cities go without explanation as
Lowney skips ahead to bring Isabella of Castile and the Inquisition on the
scene. Convivencia, however imperfect and for selfish and limited reasons, was
replaced first by apartamiento’ (“living apart”) and then by religious cleansing
as Isabella and Fernando offered Jews and Muslims the ultimatum of conversion
or exile. Lowney closes by reminding the reader of the potential for history to
provide valuable lessons and examples: not schedules of precise behavior to be
repeated, but the realization “that he or she journeys through human history accompanied by Jews,Muslims,and Christians”( p.267) of past ages,their modern
counterparts deserving of the charity and justice honored and advocated by the
three religions.
JAMES F. POWERS
College of the Holy Cross

The First Crusade.A New History.By Thomas Asbridge.(New York:Oxford University Press. 2004. Pp. xvi, 408. $35.00.)
This is essentially a popular history of the First Crusade, intended to provide
a synthesis of the great volume of recent writing for a “wider audience” ( p. x).
It is very appropriately organized to do just that. The main text provides a clear
and well written account into which elements of analysis have been very carefully integrated.There are plenty of easily followed maps, though it is a pity that
Nicaea, the site of a major siege and battle on the crusade, is placed on the coast
to the west of Lake Ascania, when it is actually inland and on the eastern end of
that body of water. The list of the main personalities with thumbnail sketches
of their significance is very useful.A good short glossary, a brief chronology, and
a full index complete the support material for the general reader. It is tempting,
in the light of Asbridge’s stated intention, to compare this book with the many
popular accounts of the First and other crusades which have appeared in recent years, of which one of the very best is M. Billings, The Cross and the Crescent.A History of the Crusades (London: BBC Publications, 1987). But although
it is entirely suited for a “wider audience,”Asbridge’s book is founded, to a much
greater degree, on a fine knowledge of recent scholarship. It could, in fact, be
usefully given to students starting to study the crusades, as a guide both to the
events of the First Crusade and to the literature about it. The origins of the crusade have been sharply disputed, especially as the former consensus around the
views of Erdmann has been challenged in recent years. In chapters 1,“Holy War
Proclaimed,” and 2,“Afire with Crusading Fever,” this range of material is carefully set out and a judicious summary is provided. This is inevitably somewhat
bland, but that is inherent in the business of offering a survey. In chapter 3,“The
Journey to Byzantium,” the story is carried on with a heavy emphasis on the
“People’s Crusade,” and the opportunity is taken to introduce, albeit briefly,
the Byzantine and Islamic perspectives.Asbridge is well aware of the difficulties
of the sources for Byzantine-Crusader relations, and the notes to this chapter

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will help any student new to the subject. The journey to Antioch is clearly described, though perhaps more could have been made of the logistical difficulties the army faced and its consequent losses. The siege of Antioch was such a
dominating event that it is hardly surprising that Asbridge allocates to it three
chapters (5, 6, and 7). It is to his credit that he clearly explains the topography
of the city which had a profound influence on the course of events. The story
is well told and the difficulties dealt with carefully. However, Asbridge thinks
the battle on the St. Symeon road on March 7 marked a turning-point because
of its effect on the morale of the garrison. But a lot of heavy fighting lay ahead,
and the extraordinary silence of both the Gesta Francorum and the account of
Albert of Aachen on the later stages of the crusader siege hides much from us.
On the other hand Asbridge’s analysis of the second siege of Antioch is very
acute, and there is much to be said for his suggestion ( pp. 229–232) that the
crusader leaders were prepared to come to terms with Kerbogah. After their
stunning victory over Kerbogah the crusade descended into bitter wrangling,
and the convolutions of the consequent intrigues and quarrels are very well discussed here in chapters 8 and 9,with particular reference to their disastrous impact on Raymond of Toulouse’s ambition to lead the crusade. In chapter 10 the
siege of Jerusalem is vividly described with a real appreciation of the peculiar
cocktail of piety and brutality which constituted the crusading mentality. Perhaps the great strength of this book is that it offers a real insight into the outlook of what a participant called “the pilgrim church of the Franks.” Its primary
weakness is that it says relatively little about the Muslims. For example, the Fatimid’s diplomatic dealings with the crusaders are mentioned ( pp. 185, 286),
but little is made of the impact on military events in Palestine which resulted
from them. However, overall, this is a clear, well written, and learned introduction to the First Crusade.
JOHN FRANCE
University of Swansea

L’incontro tra due “invenzioni”medievali: Università e Ordini Mendicanti. By
Luigi Pellegrini. [Scienze storiche, Volume 13.] (Naples: Liguori Editore.
2003. Pp. ix, 175. €14,00 paperback.)
This book had its beginning in classroom lectures on the origins and interaction of universities and the mendicant orders. These two medieval institutions
interacted with each other from the thirteenth to sixteenth centuries, sometimes in conflict and sometimes to their mutual benefit. Moreover, each institution had its origin in the twelfth century in response to changes brought about
by an expanding commercial economy and the growth of towns. Universities
were the final stage of a reorganization of education in the twelfth century, just
as the mendicant orders grew out of the evangelical awakening in that century
and the perceived spiritual needs of urban populations.

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The first chapter of the book surveys the cultural and scholastic developments of the twelfth century. Pellegrini discusses the decline of monastic
schools and the growth of teaching at cathedrals and among the canonical orders in urban centers. This chapter covers the triumph of dialectic, the transformation of teaching from lectio to the quaestio, and the role of students. The
second chapter concerns the development from independent schools to the incorporation of scholars and masters.The culmination of that development, covered in the third chapter, is the emergence of the University of Bologna and,
later, the University of Paris. In the fourth chapter Pellegrini turns to the origins
of the mendicant orders, taking a sociological as well as religious approach.The
establishment of mendicant houses of study at Paris before the crisis of 1229 is
the subject of chapter five.The sixth and final chapter is devoted to the conflict
of secular and mendicant masters in the second half of the thirteenth century.
The work is well written, with an evident passion for the subject. The approach is sociological, employing a taxonomy of forms of organization, both religious and social,to understand the structure of universities and the mendicant
orders. For a work apparently composed initially for an Italian student audience, it is also written on a remarkably high level, informed and informative.
Both the footnotes and the bibliographical essay at the end of the book reflect
a wide knowledge of the relevant secondary literature in English, French, and
German, as well as in Italian. The author sees the development of universities
and the mendicant orders as radically new phenomena, without precedent in
the ancient or early medieval world, and without parallels in Byzantium or Islamic culture.
The main theme of the book is the conflict between these two medieval
institutions, especially the crisis that emerged in 1252–1254 and continued
throughout the second half of the thirteenth century. There is, however, a certain imbalance between sections of the work inasmuch as most of the discussion
of university development is devoted to Bologna, while the secular/mendicant
crisis is centered on Paris. Moreover, the conflict of 1252–1254 was not just between secular theologians and their mendicant counterparts,although that may
have been its most vocal and visible manifestation, but concerned the entry of
other religious orders into the faculty of theology, specifically monks and the
canonical orders.
The book presents a fresh and readable account of the organizational structure, the importance, and the interaction of these two medieval “inventions”:
the universities and the mendicant orders.
WILLIAM J. COURTENAY
University of Wisconsin-Madison

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Écrire sa mort, décrire sa vie: Testaments de laïcs lausannois (1400–1450).
By Lisane Lavanchy. [Cahiers lausannois d’histoire médiévale, 32.] (Lausanne: Bureau d’histoire médiévale, Faculté des Lettres, Université de Lausanne. 2003. Pp. 381. CHF 42; €28 paperback.)
A study of 180 wills and codicils from citizens and established residents of
Lausanne in the first half of the fifteenth century, Écrire sa mort, décrire sa vie
argues that elite lay persons made use of “les actes de dernières volontés pour
manifester avant tout son individualité, pour marquer son status social dans un
dernier geste «autobiographique» qui lui permet de sortir de la norme”( p. 189).
The study proceeds along two lines. The first provides statistical analysis of the
last wishes of 139 lay persons (81 men and 58 women), revealing their social locations, choices of burial place, and the range of their pious bequests. The
shorter second section discusses five wills in some detail to highlight the individuality of the testators. Full text editions of sample wills are provided in Latin
with French translations.
These testators were individuals of significant social standing, including literate professionals, merchants, artisans, and their wives or widows. Although economic times were hard,the range of choice and degree of specification of burial
place, funeral arrangements, and pious bequests increase with economic and
social status.
These wills seek to meet three overarching goals—peace among those left
behind, burial near relatives, and post-mortem intercessions. When the transfer
of goods contravenes custom, ensuring peace becomes very important. For example, the pious widow Anthonia makes her will in the hope that “toute discorde et toute rancœr cessent entre mes parents et amis,” even as she gives
virtually all of her wealth to the church. Burial places are specified in 99% of the
wills, requesting, in increasing order of prestige, the parish, a mendicant house,
and the cathedral. In each case, burial inside the church is a more elite choice
than cemetery burial.
Those who choose burial in the parish cemetery do not make bequests outside the parish in their wills. Those buried inside the parish church or elsewhere make a range of pious donations. The most exhaustive list comes from
Christophe Gilliz, an apothecary, who asks to be buried in the Dominican
church. He makes donations to the Dominicans, Franciscans, a local hospital, his
own priest, his parish, a convent of Cistercian nuns, a leprosarium, and a house
of recluses. Thus Masses and prayers for his soul will come from a variety of
spiritually potent sources, including the clergy and the poor.
Lausanne’s lay testators are quite locally focused. They choose burial near
home; their pious bequests benefit local clergy, religious institutions, and the
known poor. This is a departure from the wider geographical horizon found in
fourteenth-century wills, and Lavanchy interprets this as the start of the trend
toward civic charity that characterizes the early modern period.

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This volume is a significant contribution to the growing body of material on
the late medieval laity. Lavanchy is willing to raise speculative questions and interpretations of the wills, but she is careful to acknowledge the limitations of
what the texts themselves confirm. Overall,one gains the impression of late medieval lay people increasingly taking charge of their own affairs in both the temporal and the spiritual realms.
ANNE T.THAYER
Lancaster Theological Seminary

Sons, couleurs, odeurs dans la Cathédrale de Tournai au 15e siècle,Vol. I: Édition du cérémonial et des ordinaires, suivie du commentaire (I): Les
acteurs, les lieux et le mobilier liturgique. By Jacques Pycke. [Bibliothèque de la Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, Fasc. 84.] (Louvain-la-Neuve:
Collège Érasme; Leuven: Universiteitsbibliothek; Bruxelles: Éditions Nauwelaerts. 2004. Pp. 281. €35 paperback.)
This first volume of a two-volume study of the liturgical life of the community
of Tournai Cathedral in the later Middle Ages contains an edition with introduction and commentary of a fifteenth-century liturgical directory, MS 348/A of
the Archives of the Cathedral of Tournai. Various indications suggest a date for
the execution of the MS within the period 1402–1450, probably during the
decade 1420–1430 when the procedures and documents of many important aspects of the life of the cathedral community were being put in order (see pp.
31–32). The text consists of 214 short entries which regulate, revise, or clarify
details of liturgical observances.
These entries fall into three sections which, as the editor indicates ( pp.
21–22), correspond to three of the categories of liturgical directories described
by Dom Mortimort:a ceremoniale,an ordinarius for the sanctoral cycle,and an
ordinarius for the temporal cycle. The ceremoniale (sections 1–142) contains
regulations for observance of the various classes of feasts and for the conduct
of certain rites according to feast, rubrics for the welcoming of various notable
figures, and rubrics for funeral observances according to the canonical status of
the deceased. This section might stand alone, and the editor regards it as perhaps a first draft for a ceremoniale that would collect directives and regulations
hitherto scattered in different liturgical documents.
The following sections, however, clearly consist of corrections and supplements to pre-existing documents. The second section (143–180) bears the
heading:“Here follow corrections and additions that are to be made in the red
ordinarius of the Church of Tournai,” and its entries follow the sanctoral cycle
from the feast of St. Andrew to All Souls’ Day. The final section (181–214) bears
the heading:“Likewise, these are to be corrected in the black ordinarius,” and
its entries deal with selected feasts of the temporal cycle from Advent through

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Corpus Christi, with miscellaneous material following. A few entries in sections
two and three require obliteration or correction of the earlier regulations (deleatur, corrigatur), but the majority seems to be supplements or clarifications,
and occasionally direct ( ponatur) but more often imply the insertion of the
new material. No documents corresponding to a “Black Book” or a “Red Book,”
original version or revised as directed in MS 348/A, have survived; so we are left
only with this remarkable transitional document which gives us a view of the
rituals of an important cathedral church in the process of codification and revision.
The edition is followed by commentary on select details of liturgical observance: actors, places, and liturgical objects, and pages 257–260 contain a table
of the 211 sections of the MS correlated to passages where they are translated
and/or discussed in the commentary. The volume closes with an extensive general index, which substantially increases its utility and provides a glimpse of the
significance of this liturgical document across a broad spectrum of research, for
the cathedral was a microcosm of its society and was fully integrated into its
spiritual, aesthetic, social, and economic life. This volume’s companion is to
consist of papers presented at a gathering of specialists in liturgical history and
related fields which will undertake a detailed account of the liturgical life of
Tournai Cathedral with all its ramifications.
DANIEL SHEERIN
University of Notre Dame

Early Modern European
The Reformation of the Image. By Joseph Leo Koerner. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. 2004. Pp. 493; 216 illustrations.)
Koerner was born in the United States, and his early education was in both
the English and German languages. He did his advanced work in art history at
Yale and Berkeley and is now professor in art history at the Courtauld Institute
in London. Preceding this volume are two masterful works, the first on Caspar
David Friedrich and the second on self-portraits in German Renaissance art.
Those who have read these volumes will not be surprised by the scholarship
and sweeping scope of the current volume, a work that marks him as second to
none in Reformation history.
The time scope of the volume covers the period from the first decade of the
sixteenth century into the sixth decade. The two central figures are Martin
Luther and Cranach the Elder, meaning that theology and art are the ambiance
of these two friends during their time in Wittenberg. Many readers may already
know that Cranach was one of the few persons whom Luther contacted while
he was in hiding at the Wartburg and that they were godparents of some of
their respective children. What they may not know is the extent of the working
partnership on the place of art in the Reformation and the form this took.

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While iconoclasm defined the approach of most Reformation figures, Luther
rejected the subjects of Catholic art rather than art outright. Koerner gives us a
full picture of the forms this approach took, and of the developing altarpieces
that were done by Cranach the Elder and his workshop, including Cranach the
Younger. Some of these are to be found intact at Wittenberg, Desau, Schneeberg, and Weimar, as well as the first new Protestant church building at Torgau.
Koerner makes the case that Luther stands between the Protestant iconoclasts and the Catholic groups, thus creating a new climate for the visual arts.
While the dominant vehicle for faith stems from preaching and hearing, rather
than from seeing, seeing is a subsidiary vehicle for knowing the hidden, invisible God.
Both the concrete biblical text and the work of art require imaginative interpretation, rather than a literal understanding. Here the evidence, it seems to me,
is that Luther was freer in his interpretation of the role of seeing than was the
case with Dürer and Melanchthon during the early period and in Lutheran art
as it developed after Luther’s death. While Koerner provides us with information on these phases, he has chosen his material in a different form.
This is not an easy book to read, but it rewards one both in information and
in interpretation.
JOHN DILLENBERGER
Graduate Theological Union (Emeritus)
Berkeley, California

Werewolves, Witches, and Wandering Spirits: Traditional Belief and Folklore
in Early Modern Europe. Edited by Kathryn A. Edwards. [Sixteenth Century Essays & Studies, Vol. 62.] (Kirksville, Missouri: Truman State University Press. 2002. Pp. xxii, 226. $44.95.)
The essays in this eclectic collection highlight early modern beliefs about a
wide variety of supernatural phenomena, analyzing popular culture at its broadest. Edwards explains in a thoughtful introduction that historians dealing with
witchcraft have often tended to marginalize the folklore and supernatural aspects of popular belief in their attempts to synthesize witchcraft practices; the
ten essays brought together here are meant to correct this oversight by bringing some of the more peripheral cases to the forefront. The work also serves to
complicate ideas of confessionalization, illustrating that the boundaries between popular and elite culture were always rather blurry.
For example, Sarah Ferber argues in her very persuasive essay that cults of
possession and exorcism in early modern France were at the heart of Catholic
reform. Her analysis of possession cases shows that elites participated in these
cults and that the use of the body and holy objects—central in possession and
exorcism—are crucial to understanding what Catholic reform meant in the re-

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forming era. David Lederer shows that ghosts did not disappear with the confessional era either; the Bavarian trial records he examines make it clear that
people of all levels of society believed in the presence of ghosts in everyday
life. Robin Briggs studies witchcraft trials in Lorraine and discovers that werewolves and other shapeshifters were considered commonplace by both the
witnesses in the trials and by the judges. Ulrike Krampl argues that witches in
eighteenth-century Paris were transformed through the legal system into the
less harmful but ever-present fortune-tellers, alchemists, and talisman peddlers.
The police called them false witches and treated them as a threat to public
order, although not as individuals truly able to channel demonic power.
The aforementioned authors rely heavily on trial and police records, but
three others use texts to highlight a more elite view of folkloric practices.
Nicole Jacques-Lefèvre examines the usefulness of werewolves as a symbol in
three sixteenth-century French texts, and Bruce Gordon analyzes the views of
Heinrich Bullinger, chief minister of the Zurich Reformed church in the late sixteenth century, on the role of the devil and demons in everyday life. In one of
the most fascinating essays in the collection, Dean Phillip Bell uses Jewish folk
tales to examine beliefs about magic among the Jews in seventeenth-century
Worms. The presence of the supernatural in these tales was key to the sacralization of local events, which then influenced the creation of Jewish culture,
memory, and sense of community.
The three remaining essays are all only tangentially related to the major themes
unifying the collection, but they stand up well on their own. Sara T. Nalle takes
a revisionist stance in her analysis of El Encubierto, a sixteenth-century messianic figure in Valencia, arguing that it was his appeal to folkloric beliefs that allowed him to lead the largest millenarian revolt in early modern Spain. Anne
Jacobson Schutte and H. C. Erik Midelfort both deal with the relationship between psychoanalysis and witchcraft, although in very different ways. Schutte
tells the story of Asmodea, a Tuscan nun who claimed she was a consort of the
devil. Schutte argues that this is clearly a case of an unwilling nun who used
folkloric knowledge and escapist fantasies to try to find emotional and sexual
satisfaction.Midelfort,instead of using psychoanalysis to understand witchcraft,
points out that Freud’s intensive study of witchcraft influenced the development of his ideas on psychoanalysis. Thus it may be that psychoanalytic methods in the study of witchcraft have been so popular because the two were
related from the beginning.
Midelfort’s essay is unfortunately the only one in the collection to make substantial comments on methods or definitions in the study of peripheral religious and/or cultural practices. Popular culture, popular religion, folklore,
and witchcraft are used constantly but never clearly defined or questioned as
categories. This collection is admirable in that the essays use a great variety
of archival sources to add to our knowledge of cultural and religious practices,
but the material needs to be further analyzed and incorporated into theory

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about the relationship between religion, culture, class, and gender in early
modern society.
KAREN E. CARTER
Georgetown University

Exorcism and Its Texts: Subjectivity in Early Modern Literature of England
and Spain. By Hilaire Kallendorf. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
2003. Pp. xxi, 327. $65.00.)
Over the last two decades there has been an explosion of scholarly research
and publication on witchcraft, a process which has engendered interest on a
number of related historical issues.Among the most important of which are the
related phenomena of demonic possession and exorcism. Hilaire Kallendorf’s
Exorcism and Its Texts is, therefore, a timely addition to our knowledge on
what is a growing area of study among both historians and literary scholars.
Although aware of some of the wider recent historical writing on the subject, Kallendorf’s main interest is with exorcism and possession in the literature
of England and Spain. After a brief introduction examining various theoretical
positions, a series of chapters are devoted to specific topics. In a chapter on
demoniacs and the drama the author demonstrates how exorcism on stage can
be interpreted as a metaphor for a purificatory act of exorcizing the body
politic. In another chapter, dealing with the picaresque, satirical poetry, and
satire, Kallendorf argues the importance of the experience of demonic possession, whether genuine or simulated, as a source of knowledge. The author then
turns to how the interlude and hagiographical drama leads to the humanization
of possession and exorcism, how tragedy in the drama can be seen as the absence or failure of exorcism, and also examines an important and unexpected
theme in a chapter dealing with self-exorcism and the rise of the novel.There is
then a final, brief, epilogue, in which the category of “demonic possession” is
problematized, and it is argued that it could be interpreted in various ways by
early modern observers, and hence that modern scholars should be wary of
oversimplifying it. Although there may be much to argue with in Kallendorf’s
interpretations, there is no doubt that a powerful and informed scholarly imagination is being brought to bear on a disparate body of literary materials. The
analysis of Spanish literary references to demonic possession and exorcism is
especially welcome, while, overall, the author is massively successful in demonstrating how the apparently peripheral phenomena of demonic possession and
exorcism were of considerable importance in the early modern period, and argues for the existence and importance of what is termed a “Christian legitimate
marvellous.” Not everybody may be convinced that the period in question witnessed the development of an “integrated notion of selfhood,” but Kallendorf’s
analysis of the subject with this concept in mind does provide an unusual perspective.

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Despite the undoubted strengths of this book, Kallendorf’s status as a literary
scholar is reflected by a lack of awareness of some of the more recent, and indeed less recent, writing on English witchcraft-cum-possession cases. The extremely important case of Anne Gunter is missed, while there is also a very
interesting connection of which the author is apparently unaware. Kallendorf
argues that the most vocal advocate of the “Christian legitimate marvellous”was
Torquato Tasso, this being demonstrated in his Gerusalemme liberata. It would
therefore be interesting to hear what Kallendorf might make of the fact that the
translator of that work into English,the Yorkshire gentleman Edward Fairfax,experienced the possession and bewitchment of two of his daughters in the early
1620’s. Fairfax wrote a lengthy account of his and their sufferings which
demonstrated that the “Christian legitimate marvellous” was evidently working
as strongly in a godly household in northern England as it was in the texts
Kallendorf so expertly studies.
JAMES SHARPE
University of York
England

Közép-Európa harca a török ellen a 16 század első felében [The Central-Europeans’ struggle with the Turks during the former half of the sixteenth
century]. Edited by István Zombori. (Budapest: METEM. 2004. Pp. 219.)
When the new Ottoman sultan, Mohammed II (the Conqueror, 1451–1481)
occupied Constantinople in 1453, he intended to draw Europe, especially Central Europe, under his sway. Although three years later Christian armies led by
the Hungarian Regent, John Hunyadi, and the Franciscan friar, John Capistrano,
thoroughly defeated the Turks at Belgrade, European leaders neglected to prepare for a final confrontation with the Turk for several decades, and by 1521,
Sultan Suleiman I was able to occupy Belgrade; sensing the weakness of domestic leadership in countries north of the Danube, he invaded Hungary in
1526 and demolished the medieval Hungarian kingdom at Mohács. The Ottomans besieged, but could not conquer Vienna; however, the Magyar capital
Buda passed under permanent Turkish rule in 1541, and the major portion of
the country remained under Ottoman occupation until the end of the seventeenth century. Consequently, the Turks presented a steady threat to Bohemia,
the Austrian territories of Steyermark and Carinthia, and, through their allies
with Crimean Tartars, also to Poland. Taking a common military front of resistance toward the Turk would have served the mutual interests of the peoples in
Central Europe.
The authors of the ten essays collected in this volume emphasize this common interest as they evaluate the sequence of events during the cited time period.Their works are divided in three groups by the editor of the volume. In the
first group of essays—“The Turks: a new threat to Central Europe”—Pál Fodor
discusses relations between Hungary and the Ottoman empire from 1390 to

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1533, using primary sources—in Turkish and in Magyar—and recent studies.
Sándor Papp analyzes the beginnings of Magyar-Turkish contacts from the midfourteenth century to 1540. He goes into detail on events in Balkan politics,
including the bloody confrontation in 1371 at the Marica stream, where the
Christian forces suffered defeat (an engagement, from which even the Hungarian king, Louis the Great, 1342–1382, only miraculously escaped). And yet, the
author explained that Ottoman diplomacy treated the Hungarian court with respect and on equal terms until 1526.
Ilona Czamańska places Polish-Turkish relations in the former half of the
1500’s under microscopic examination; in her short but precise study she argues that the Polish court seriously considered confronting the Turks through
military means, especially after the nephew of King Sigismund I (of Poland,
1506–1548), the nine-year-old Louis II, ascended to the Hungarian throne in
1516. On the other hand, the Slovak Vladimír Seges̆ rationalizes in philosophical
terms the sometimes logical, sometimes really mindless, background of the
wars fought with the Turks as he views those battles from a triangular aspect in
terms of time, space, and mobility.
The four studies that form the second part of the book deal with the coordinated Polish-Habsburg effort to stand up to the Turk. András Kubinyi opens
this section with his exemplarily detailed and thoroughly researched study,
painting, as you will, a historic fresco of the role played by members of the
mighty Magyar aristocracy, how they reacted to the Ottoman threat to their
country in the age of Jagiello kings, 1490–1526. Although his piece relies quite
heavily on his earlier works published in Hungarian and in German—as, e.g.,
“Historische Skizze Ungarns in der Jagiellonenzeit,” in his König und Volk im
spätmittelalterlichen Ungarn (Herne, 1998), pp. 322–368, or, his essay,“Königtum, Stände und Regierungen am Ende des Mittelalters in Ungarn,” in his
Matthias Corvinus. Die Regierung eines Königreichs in Ostmitteleuropa,
1458–90 (Herne, 1999), pp. 216–237, just as Kubinyi refers to his study [in Hungarian],“The role held by the Church in a country’s everyday politics and military defense issues at the end of the middle ages,” in his Főpapok, egyházi
intézmények és vallásosság a középkori Magyarországon [The position of
the church hierarchy, ecclesiastical institutions, and religion in medieval Hungary] (Budapest, 1999), pp. 87–99, one may even cite his paper [in Hungarian],
“Politics and home defense in Hungary of the Jagiellos,” Hadtörténelmi Közlemények, 113 (2000), 397–416—still, this valuable piece comprises numerous new ideas and projects a new approach toward the understanding of
Hungarian history under the country’s Jagiello kings during the early 1500’s.
Next follows István Zombori’s fascinating paper based upon the diary, written in Latin, of the Polish Chancellor Krzysztof Szydlowiecki on a planned
Jagiello–Habsburg military offensive against the Turk in 1523. The capture of
Belgrade by the Turk in 1521 formed a real military threat and military challenge
not only for the Magyar kingdom, but also for Poland and the Austrian lands of
the German empire. Negotiations were conducted in Sopron, Wienerneustadt,

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and Pozsony (Bratislava), but achieved no concrete results. Oddly, nobody had
taken the Turkish threat seriously—a threat that would have required prompt
counteraction.
Thomas Ososinski’s paper deals with nineteen letters in the correspondence
between Jan Dantyszek, Polish royal secretary and humanist, and Krzysztof
Szydlowiecki, Polish Chancellor and Woyvode, a dedicated Habsburg sympathizer—and, as such, the political opponent of Archbishop Jan Laski, Primate of
the Church in Poland, and of the group of Polish nobles who wanted political
reforms—on how to deal with, how to approach the Turkish threat from the
south. Teréz Oborni presents a well prepared and thoroughly researched study
on the metamorphosis of Transylvania: how the province of the Magyar kingdom rose to statehood in the former half of the 1500’s. She researched and
drew conclusions from the records of the assemblies held between 1542 and
1544, when the former provincial diet became the assembly of the emerging
state of Transylvania. Her paper closes part two of the book.
In the third part of the volume—“The Catholic Church and the Turks”—
Henryk Gapski, in a well footnoted paper, examines relations between the
Church in Poland and the Ottoman empire and outlines Tartar-Turkish contacts
in the early sixteenth century. Antal Molnár, in accordance with pertinent primary sources,writes on the attitude of the Holy See toward Hungary during this
period. Unfortunately, his paper, though cleverly conceived, proves to be far too
short for such a detailed and complicated topic. On the last page, contributors
of the ten essays are identified by the editor.
The volume presents the writings of Polish, Slovak, and Hungarian scholars
carefully edited by István Zombori. The reader owes sincere thanks and high
recognition to the contributors and to the editor for an opus, the publishing of
which bears witness to the common ground reached by and co-operation
among central European scholars of the present.
Z. J. KOSZTOLNYIK
Texas A&M University

Temps, Culture, Religions:Autour de Jean-Pierre Massaut. Edited by M. É. Henneau, C. Havelange, Ph. Denis, and J.-P. Delville. (Brussels: Editions Nauwelaerts; Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme. 2004. Pp. 386. Paperback.)
Gathered together from his students and colleagues, this collection of twentyfive articles honors the distinguished scholarly career of Jean-Pierre Massaut, a
foremost expert on religious and intellectual life in sixteenth-century France.
Among the many distinguished scholars contributing to this volume are Jean
Delumeau, Marc Venard, Nicole Lemaître, Jean-François Gilmont, and Bernard
Dompnier. The quality of scholarship is consistently good, and in some cases
very strong indeed. To begin, however, it seems appropriate to introduce Massaut himself. Both the prologue and the first article, written respectively by Carl

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Havelange and Marie-Elisabeth Henneau, paint a portrait of a man who is, to say
the least, complicated and even paradoxical. While modest about his own
achievements, solitary by nature, and extremely generous with his students, the
erudite Massaut also possessed a corrosive sense of humor and was anything but
retiring in intellectual debate.Critical of institutions as nurseries of “hypocrisies”
and corruption, Massaut nevertheless considers them as essential for preserving
societal order and values. Henneau emphasizes the pedagogical and methodological influence of Massaut upon his students. Massaut trained his students to
be critical examiners of sixteenth-century sources, in part by reminding them
that they were “strangers” visiting a society long dead.
Subsequent articles develop three areas of investigation that define Massaut’s
scholarly achievements:French Humanism,religious institutions,and spiritual reform.Given the brevity of this review,I will focus on a few of the meatier articles
that explicitly concern European religious life.One of the most interesting is Dominique Rigaux’s “L’Écrit dans l’image.” Rigaux shows that the choice of vernacular and Latin reflected different spiritual agendas. She nevertheless argues that
different languages on the same painting do not necessarily mean different levels of meaning so much as they point to a shared culture. Jacques Le Brun in “La
scène de l’interprétation. Notes sur l’interprétation de la scène Évangélique des
pèlerins d’Emmaüs” turns his critical skills to the New Testament.
Two articles look at Josse Clichtove,a figure who lies at the center of Massaut’s
early scholarship. Jean-Pierre Delville argues in “Josse Clichtove et l’interprétation des paraboles”that Clichtove’s preaching reflects a traditional scholastic formation: disinterest in humanist investigation on the Bible and philological skills
in place of reliance on the summa. He nevertheless sees Clichtove’s clear expostulation on the patristics as one sign of his originality. Nicole Lemaître also
makes an intriguing case for Clichtove’s place as an intellectual figure located
between scholastic and humanist studies in “Le prêtre, la femme et la messe.
Un misogne conséquent.” She argues that his misogyny reflects a concern about
preparing good priests. Clichtove’s work is unusual in that it narrows the distance in expectations between the secular and regular clergy. In this regard,
Lemaître suggests that his concerns foreshadowed the Council of Trent. Four articles provide an intriguing glimpse into early modern monastic life. Jean-Marie
Le Gall’s “La Moniale, ange et l’hérétique. Un aspect de la controverse en 1528”
underscores the difficulties monastic reformers faced when trying to distance
their own reform endeavors from Lutheranism after 1521. Extremely critical of
monastic abuses, these reformers nevertheless struggled to assert the essential
viability of traditional Catholic practices and beliefs including the monastic life.
Jean-Pierre Gilmont analyzes publishing in Geneva, and discovers that polemics
were the most popular text during the sixteenth century, and Calvin the most
popular author. In “Ce n’est pas moi, c’est l’autre!” Dominique Deslandres seeks
to understand the missionary mentality of the Jesuits sent to the New World.
Deslandres makes the intriguing argument that for the Jesuits, God, rather than
the indigenous populations, was their true “other.” Dompnier discusses the historic Franciscan controversy over the issue of lay voting in “L’Humilité, égalité,

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fraternité. Le conflit du “suffrage universel” chez les capucins du XVIIe siècle.”
Sparking this controversy was mounting tension between concern about preserving “humility” and the clericalization of the order, a tension that was particularly intense in the seventeenth century. Daniel-Odon Hurel investigates Maurist
spirituality in “La contribution des Mauristes aux missions de l’intérieur au XVIIe
siècle.”This rich analysis of Maurist missionary strategies and recruitment shows
that the missionary efforts of 1660 and 1686 in France responded to two very
different concerns: internal corruption and heresy. Marcel Bernos’s “La pastorale
sacramentelle des insensés” shows that seventeenth-century confessors were
sensitive to psychological maladies, and worked closely with doctors to understand and treat their flock. Claude Soetens’ interesting examination of the rites
controversy in China,“La condemnation romaine des rites chinois au 18e siècle,”
situates the condemnation of Christian rites at the intersection of Chinese
politics and inter-order conflict. Also intriguing is “Protestantisme et FrancMaçonnerie: Une histoire sans histories?” by Jean-Louis Cornez. Cornez questions the traditional association of masonry with Protestantism by marking out
its shared sensibilities with Catholicism.
MEGAN ARMSTRONG
University of Utah

The Trail of Martyrdom: Persecution and Resistance in Sixteenth-Century
England. By Sarah Covington. (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre
Dame Press. 2003. Pp. xii, 288. $55.00 clothbound; $28.00 paperback.)
This book is an institutional and social history of the judicial processes by
which suspected heretics and religious traitors were identified, sought, apprehended,imprisoned,tried,and executed in England from the reign of Henry VIII
through that of Elizabeth I. The principal argument is that executions of religious dissidents, insofar as they depended upon sixteenth-century institutions
and the often unstable relationships among the crown,local authorities,and the
population at large, were less than entirely successful in achieving the crown’s
goal of ensuring religious uniformity and control.Such executions were also occasions for contestation and resistance. The book’s five chapters discuss both
Roman Catholics (under Henry VIII and Elizabeth I) and Protestants (under
Henry VIII and Mary) who, depending upon the seesaw prescriptions of Tudor
religio-political regimes, were prosecuted for religious dissidence. Through numerous examples drawn from martyrological and other published sources, trial
records, correspondence, and government documents, Covington patiently describes the suspects’ dealings with officials involved in the process, including
paid informers, summoners, sheriffs, jail keepers, interrogators, and executioners.Variability and contingency characterized every stage, the result of the complex social interactions and individual qualities of the authorities, suspects, and
coreligionists involved.

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Covington’s basic argument will be unsurprising to those familiar with the judicial and religious realities of Tudor England. The book’s strength lies in its
structure and scope, viz., the marshaling of examples from the 1520’s through
the 1590’s of Protestants as well as Catholics, organized into a step-by-step description of the prosecutorial process. The study also has some shortcomings.
Conceptually, it is unclear why Covington uses the term “persecution” rather
than “prosecution”in her subtitle and throughout the work,especially insofar as
her epilogue states,“The quest for uniformity on the part of the Tudors, and the
desire to extinguish any groups who [sic] posed a challenge to it, was entirely
logical in the context of the sixteenth century, and should not be viewed from
a post-Enlightenment perspective” ( p. 201). She notes the importance of understanding interrogators on their own terms ( pp. 110–111), yet “persecution”
is used throughout the book as though it were a neutral category of analysis.
The treatment of Protestant and Catholic martyrs themselves (mostly in Chapter 5, on executions) is quite superficial, and fails to root their actions deeply in
their robust religiosity. Imprecision of expression is sometimes a problem; one
cannot “dispens[e]” or “distribute mass” ( pp. 54, 95), for example, and “proscribed”is used where “prescribed”is meant ( p.189).Covington relies primarily
on the 1583 edition of Foxe’s Acts and Monuments, but occasionally and without explanation uses the discredited, nineteenth-century Cattley and Townsend
edition, reprinted in 1965. And the book includes a baffling factual error: nearly
a full page is devoted to William Tyndale, probably the most notable pre-Marian
English Protestant martyr, as “[o]ne of the few successful extraditions in the
century,”who was “eventually returned to England and burned”( pp. 60, 61). But
Tyndale was executed in early October, 1536, at Vilvorde, near Brussels (see
David Daniell’s biography, which Covington herself cites).
BRAD S. GREGORY
University of Notre Dame

Monumenta Borgia, VI (1478–1551). Sanctus Franciscus Borgia, Quartus
Gandiae Dux et Societatis Iesu Praepositus Generalis Tertius (1510–
1572). Edited and with an introductory study by Enrique García Hernán.
[Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Volume 156.] (Valencia: Generalitat
Valenciana, and Rome: Institutum Historicum Societatis Iesu. 2003. Pp. 751.
Paperback.)
This sixth volume in the Monumenta Borgia is a truly exceptional collection. It comes after a long lapse in the publication of this series on the life of
Francisco Borgia, “aristocrat-saint,” friend of Charles V and Isabel of Portugal,
Duke of Gandía, viceroy of Catalonia from 1539 to 1543, and later in his life
third leader of the Jesuit order. The first five volumes in the Borgia series, currently out of print, appeared as volumes 2, 23, 35, 38, and 41 of the MHSI almost

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a hundred years ago. García Hernán, now with Spain’s Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, is the first non-Jesuit editor in the Borgia series, but he
has acquired a well-deserved reputation as an outstanding specialist in the field.
Trained in modern ecclesiastical history and theology in Spain and Italy,his doctoral thesis (2000) on Francisco Borgia’s diplomatic work for the papacy in the
1570’s won the Gregorian University’s Bellarmine Medal.
This volume contains an important introductory biographical study in addition to the collection of mostly unpublished documents relating to the period
between Ferdinand the Catholic’s ennobling of the family in 1485 and 1551,the
year Francisco announced his membership in the Jesuit order. Although García
Hernán has collected more than one thousand documents, a significant number
are cited but not reproduced in their entirety. Occasionally, the inevitable
choices García Hernán has had to make, though understandable, are frustrating,
as is the case with the antepenultimate incomplete document, a letter constituting the first example of Borgia describing himself as “Francisco, a sinner.” On
the other hand, the care with which García Hernán has edited this collection is
evident in the voluminous cross references, definitive bibliographies, and attention to detail—ciphered text used in particularly sensitive royal correspondence, for example, is translated. This is all welcome material for research into
Italian and Spanish social, political, diplomatic, religious, and cultural history.
In his prologue,Thomas M. McCoog, S.J., the director of the MHSI, announces
plans to re-issue the first five volumes of the Monumenta Borgia and rightly
praises García Hernán for encompassing a more complex understanding of
Francisco Borgia than the traditional image of him as an “aristocrat-saint.” Indeed, García Hernán’s introductory study is clearly more than a presentation of
Borgia’s life up to 1551; it delves critically into the historiography concerning
his viceregency and draws innovative conclusions concerning Borgia’s evolving
ambitions. The sources are drawn principally from the Archivo de la Corona de
Aragón, the “Fondo Osuna” in the Archivo Histórico Nacional (Toledo, kept in
the Hospital de Taverna, Archivo de la Nobleza, Toledo), and the Archivo General de Simancas, but they are complemented by a selection from another fourteen archives—some private and rarely visited—in Spain, Italy, and France.
Borgia’s relationship with the important political figure of the Viscount of Evol,
for example, is re-created using correspondence in the under-utilized Biblioteca
Francisco de Zubálburu y Basabe in Madrid. The exhaustive scope of García
Hernán’s archival work, moreover, permits him to present the political and ecclesiastical ambitions of Borgia’s complex father, Don Juan de Borja, as a critical
backdrop to the young Francisco’s own evolution. Another example of García
Hernán’s scholarship is his discussion of the special relationship the Borgias
maintained with the Saint Clare convents in Spain and Italy. Finally, scholars of
the Society will benefit from new information concerning the period between
the death of Francisco’s wife on March 27, 1546, and his decision to become a
Jesuit under the tutorship of Father Fabro on May 22, a period of personal and
spiritual transition highlighted by García Hernán in his study. He notes that Borgia—strangely—often recalled the date of the Empress’s death, May 1, in his

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spiritual diary but not that of his wife’s, perhaps an indication of how much
even an extraordinary and well-presented collection of primary sources such as
this one still leaves to the historian’s imagination.
FABIO LÓPEZ-LÁZARO
Santa Clara University

The Duke of Alba. By Henry Kamen. (New Haven: Yale University Press. 2004.
Pp. viii, 204; maps ix. $30.00.)
This book aims not to replace William Maltby’s now standard account (Alba:
A Biography of Fernando Valvarez de Toledo, 1507–1582, 1983), but rather to
characterize the actions of the third duke of Alba in relation to Spanish culture.
Alone among Castile’s grandees in supporting Charles V’s imperial policy, he
rose to pre-eminence as the emperor’s field commander. He had the good general’s ability to get along with his soldiers, but could not abide contradiction by
his aristocratic peers. He was unreservedly loyal to his sovereign (mortgaging
his properties, at the emperor’s behest, to the extent of 200,000 ducats) and
Spanish in his priorities, always valuing the Habsburg dynasty’s links to the
Mediterranean more than its ties to the Netherlands or the Empire. He consistently took an expansive view of the authority that Spain’s monarch should assert in lands beyond the borders. In England, he advised King Philip II, as the
husband of Queen Mary Tudor, to be “lord of that kingdom, the most absolute
lord that ever was”( p. 43).A few years later he had no patience for the great nobles of the Netherlands who sought to oust from the Council of State Philip’s
most trusted adviser, Cardinal Granvelle: letters from “those gentlemen in Flanders” made him “so engaged that if I did not try to control myself Your Majesty
would take me for a madman” ( p. 59). Following the massive outbreak of iconoclasm across the Netherlands, led by radical Calvinists (August–September,
1566), Alba’s position was predictable: such disorder must be “crushed as soon
as it appears” ( p. 71). Philip II agreed, and named Alba to command an army of
10,000 to be assembled in Italy. Meanwhile, the great lords of the Netherlands
rallied to the government; the Regent, Margaret of Parma, sent an emissary to
tell Philip that armed intervention was no longer needed. The day her man arrived at court was the day that Alba sailed for Italy.
There is not a great deal of argument about what Alba did during his tenure
as Governor General of the Netherlands (1567–1573).To suppress religious and
political dissent, he overrode the judicial machinery of the country and created
a special tribunal that “in three years executed more people than the Inquisition of Spain was to execute in the entire reign of Philip II” ( p. 93). To support
his army,he insisted on the collection of a tax widely regarded as illegal,thereby
touching off a new and ultimately lasting rebellion (1572). In the conquest of
towns that had declared for the rebels, he more than once licensed a general
massacre of civilians by his troops, to make other towns readier to submit. Following the negotiated surrender of their town, the overwhelmingly Catholic

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people of Naarden, near Amsterdam, were slaughtered without pity (September,1572).Kamen rejects apologies that have been offered for the actions of the
Spanish commanders—Fadrique de Toledo (Alba’s son) and Julian Romero (a
seasoned lieutenant)—asserting that they had no intention of keeping their
promise to spare the town if burghers surrendered. Because it convinced other
towns there was no point in negotiating with the King of Spain, some Dutch
historians consider this incident the turning point of the Revolt.
But did Alba (and those who followed his lead) overstep the norms practiced
in their age? Professor Kamen argues that his actions in the Netherlands “quickly
lost the support of Spaniards who were there, whatever their political views”
( p. 117). In 1574, according to Philip II’s biographer,“some people convinced
the king that the second rebellion [1572] had been provoked by the severity of
Alba” ( p. 128). What Alba thought he was doing (he “sincerely believed in ruthlessness”) is not the issue. The point is that Alba “came to represent for contemporaries as well as for future generations the unacceptable face of Spanish
imperialism” ( p. 163). By implication, there was another face of Spanish imperialism; another Governor General, carrying out his responsibilities differently,
might not have provoked the Revolt. Focusing only on Alba tends to obscure
the fact that armies of occupation (especially if not paid for long periods) tend
to behave in ways that provoke a reaction. But Professor Kamen’s characterization of Alba is persuasive, and his stress on what this one man did is a salutary
reminder of the radical contingency of past events great and small.
JAMES D.TRACY
University of Minnesota

The Politics of Piety: Franciscan Preachers during the Wars of Religion,
1560–1600. By Megan C. Armstrong. (Rochester, New York: University of
Rochester Press. 2004. Pp. vii, 278. $75.00.)
When I began my work on the French Wars of Religion decades ago, social
tensions and class struggles served as the primary explanations for the violence
of the era.Given my then poorly articulated dissatisfaction with largely ignoring
religion as a motivating factor, I am pleased to find still another book that presents religion as central to the religious wars. Megan Armstrong puts forward a
powerful case for the importance of the Franciscans in galvanizing French
Catholic opposition to the French Protestants and aiding and abetting the
Catholic League’s resistance to Henry III and Henry of Navarre.
The author begins with a succinct overview of the era of the religious wars,
which emphasizes the close interplay between politics and religion.In the minds
of most French Catholics religious division necessarily led to political sedition because of the irreducible relationship between church and monarchy. The author
stresses the importance of traditional pious practices to French Catholics as a

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means of purging the world of sin, especially heresy. This leads her into a discussion of the Franciscans and how they promoted such devotions through their
preaching. She points out the political radicalism of so many of the friars and
notes how unusual it was for members of a religious order, for whom obedience
to authority was a key aspect of their lives, to be involved in seditious behavior.
Armstrong then devotes a chapter to the internal reform of the Franciscan
order. She examines the fissures between the Conventual and the Observant
Franciscans in France and the tensions that arose when the Capuchins were introduced there by 1568. The work provides detailed information on the judicial
disputes that often ended up in the Parlement of Paris. Armstrong notes that the
many patrons of the Franciscans among the French elite often wound up on opposite sides in the final phases of the religious wars. (An appendix provides the
names of patrons to the Parisian Franciscans, the nature of their patronage, and
the sums involved.) Her explanation for Franciscan success lies in the nature of
their piety and preaching, which she finds to have been highly emotional and
sensual in the meaning of the word that it excited the senses.These features help
to explain the popularity of the Franciscans across the French social classes.
The author then examines the friars’ education and their conflicts with the
University of Paris. She has important insights into the style of education provided by the university in the late sixteenth century, and she shows that the
Franciscans also included humanism in their training. She proposes that they
understood its value for understanding and refuting Protestant doctrine. It was
within the university, says the author, that the Franciscans met the Catholic
League. She emphasizes the League’s strength among its theologians, who
raised the doctrine of the Catholicity of the French monarchy to a fundamental
law of the realm. While the Franciscans were valuable allies of the Leaguers,
Armstrong makes it clear that their political views were not identical. The Franciscans placed more importance on the divine origins of the French monarchy
and less on the right of the people to elect the king. For her the quintessential
Franciscan act of rebellion was the mock execution in their friary church of
Henry III in July, 1589, by decapitating his portrait, a highly visual event that fit
in well with the Franciscan approach to religion.
In her conclusion Armstrong argues for the importance of the Franciscans
along with the Leaguers in securing the Catholicism of the French monarchy.
They had ardently argued that the Catholicism of the king was essential because of the king’s authority in religion; the monarchs beginning with Henry IV
made use of that argument to enhance their power over the Church.Armstrong
also indicates that despite the efforts of the Council of Trent and the Jesuits to
change the nature of popular Catholicism, the Franciscans continued to make
use of much the same devotional strategies after 1600 as they had before, providing important continuity within the Church.
Except for the gaffe of referring to the future queen of Scotland as Mary of
Guise, not Mary Stuart ( p. 13), this book seems to me free of errors of fact

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as well as engagingly written. It is solidly based on manuscript and primary
printed sources. Although Armstrong has perhaps drawn too clear a line of distinction between Franciscans and Leaguers, what she has done in this book is
to put in place an important piece of the puzzle of explaining why France remained Catholic.
FREDERIC J. BAUMGARTNER
Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University

Le istruzioni generali di Paolo V ai diplomatici pontifici 1605–1621. Edited
by Silvano Giordano, O.C.D. 3 vols. [Istituto Storico Germanico di Roma.]
(Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag. 2003. Pp. 1684, numbered consecutively.)
Without exaggeration one can say that these three volumes constitute a work
of monumental scholarship that historians of the papacy and indeed of Catholic
Europe in the early seventeenth century will have to consult. Historians of
diplomacy and diplomatic practice will also find much of value here. The volumes represent the latest installment of the ambitious project, originally undertaken by the various historical institutes in Rome but now carried by the
German Historical Institute there, to publish the general instructions for all the
diplomatic missions of each of the early modern pontificates. The instructions
for the pontificates of Clement VIII (1592–1605) and Gregory XV (1621–1623)
were published in 1984 and 1997, respectively, both edited by Klaus Jaitner.
Giordano’s work here maintains the same high scholarly standards. All the documents themselves with one exception are in Italian, but in this case the
lengthy introduction and rich commentary and notes are in Italian rather than
in German. Altogether during this relatively lengthy pontificate diplomats undertook eighty missions, ordinary ones as in the case of permanent nuncios to
the European courts or extraordinary ones as in the case of legates to a meeting
of the imperial diet. For these missions fifty-nine instructions survive and are
published here. In addition, eleven final reports at the conclusion of a mission
are found here, some of which functioned as instructions for the new nuncio,
and in an appendix eight additional documents that illustrate papal policy or
diplomatic procedure. Some of these instructions run to more than thirty pages
and reveal much about seventeenth-century diplomatic practice. For each of
the documents the editor provides the archival sources as well as instances of
previous publication.
As some scholars have noted, these instructions reveal the general lines of
papal policy. To understand it in detail, however, one needs to follow the policy’s implementation in the correspondence between the diplomats in the field
and the secretariat of state. Giordano provides for each diplomatic mission,
even for those for which no general instruction survives, the location of all the

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remaining correspondence of the mission, often scattered over many archives,
as well as the instances of publication, so that these volumes serve as a virtual
register of the diplomatic correspondence during the pontificate of the Borghese pope.
The first volume includes a biographical study of Paul V that runs to one
hundred pages and outlines his policy on the pontificate’s major issues. The
well-known cardinal-nephew, Scipione Borghese, merits fourteen pages, and biographical sketches of sixty-eight papal diplomats and twenty-eight functionaries of the secretariat of state along with tables comparing their ages, date of
appointment, ecclesiastical rank, and geographical and social origins provide
rich materials for the social history of the papal bureaucracy.Giordano confirms
the findings of other scholars that Paul V maintained close personal control over
policy. Although the correspondence of the secretariat was conducted in his
name, the cardinal nephew played only a minor role in its business at least after
1609, and the veteran bureaucrats first Lanfranco Margotti and then Francesco
Cennini carried on most of the business.
A number of themes stand out throughout the instructions: promote peace
among the Catholic powers, especially Spain and France, and in North Italy and
the Valtelline; uphold ecclesiastical jurisdiction as in the dispute over the Venetian Interdict; take a hard line against the Protestants especially regarding juridical concessions but avoid provocation and war when at all possible; warn and
gather support against the Turks; urge the implementation of the decrees of the
Council of Trent and further church reform; end disputes between religious orders as in the controversy over grace between the Jesuits and Dominicans; advocate for the appointment of good bishops; attempt to acquire some control
over the church in the Iberian colonies. The pope sought to mobilize Catholic
forces at the time of the crisis over the dukedoms of Jülich-Clives in the northwest of the Empire around 1610 and again following the Defenestration of
Prague in 1618, but he hesitated to make commitments to financial help because of the alleged burdens on the papal treasury. Truly impressive is the
knowledge of local situations gathered by the papal diplomats and available in
Rome as well as the prudence expected of the papal agents in the exercise of
their functions. As we know from the work of Wolfgang Reinhard and Volker
Reinhardt on the Borghese papacy and more recently from Birgitte Emich’s
Bürokratie und Nepotismus unter Paul V. (1605–1621) (Tübingen, 2001), Cardinal Scipione oversaw the Borghese patronage network and looked to the enrichment of the family and to its social ascent as his principal tasks. This aspect
of the Borghese papacy does not appear in these volumes.
The notes to the documents published here provide a wealth of information
and bibliography in all the modern European languages,and the final volume includes an up-to-date bibliography of 140 pages plus a detailed index of 240
pages. Giordano has now embarked upon the still more ambitious project of
similar volumes for the lengthier papacy of Urban VIII, the Barberini pope

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(1623–1644). It too will be, no doubt, a treasure worth waiting for by students
of early modern Catholicism.
ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J.
Loyola University Chicago

Ferdinand von Fürstenberg, Fürstbischof von Paderborn und Münster:
Friedensfürst und Guter Hirt. Edited by Nobert Börste and Jörg Ernesti.
[Paderborner Theologische Studien, Band 42.] (Paderborn: Ferdinand
Schöningh. 2004. Pp. 634. €29.90.)
This work is the result of a collaboration among a variety of scholars interested in the life and work of the seventeenth-century prelate, Ferdinand von
Fürstenberg (1626–1683), which led to an exhibition at the Historical Museum
in Marstall and the former residence of the Prince-Bishops of Paderborn at
Neuhaus. The book, however, is much more than an accompaniment to these
exhibitions.It contains essays of considerable significance for scholars of church
history, art history, historical preservation, and philology ( p. 11). It consists of
twenty-nine chapters, divided into six sections, dealing with biography, pastoral
and political affairs,patronage of the arts and learning,the residence at Neuhaus,
the high altar of the former Jesuit church in Paderborn, and a simple directory
for the various exhibitions. The contributors include some of the best-known
scholars in this particular field, including Helmut Lehrkamp, Karl Hengst, Alwin
Hanschmidt, and Roland Pieper, as well as impressive contributions by two
members of the Fürstenberg family, Michael and Wennemar, and the appearance of the work of younger scholars.
A comparison of two seemingly related articles proves instructive. Helmut
Lehrkamp, Director of the State Archives in Münster and the author of a threevolume history of the Fürstenberg family,provides us with an informative sketch
of the immediate family of the Prince-Bishop,“Ferdinand von Fürstenberg und
seine Familie”( pp.43–52).This article is easy to read and digest,and helps place
the major character in context. The next article,“Ferdinand von Fürstenberg,
Familiengeschichtlich betrachtet” ( pp. 53–78), is by Heinrich Josef Deisting,
also an archivist and a genealogist. After a brief introduction in which he notes
the importance of family connections, Deisting gives the reader twenty-three
pages listing the descendants of Ferdinand’s great-grandfather over seven generations up to the date of Ferdinand’s death in 1683. This essay will be of interest only to genealogists.
An interesting article is that by Hans Jürgen Brandt and Karl Hengst, “Der
erste Pastor im Bistum bin ich! Die geistliche Zentralbehörden unter Ferdinand
von Fürstenberg” ( pp. 155–182), which discusses in some detail the care taken
by the Prince-Bishop in selecting his auxiliary bishops, vicars general, and other

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officials with an enduring concern for pastoral care. An aspect of the career
of this prelate not often encountered in the literature is covered in the article
“Die römischen Jahre Ferdinands von Fürstenberg” ( pp. 79–110) by Michael
von Fürstenberg. This covers the time Ferdinand spent in the Eternal City, his
relationship with Pope Alexander VII, and his connections with many of the
leading clerical, artistic, and intellectual figures of the period 1652–1661.
Alexander VII appears again in an article by Jörg Ernesti ( pp. 311–332) as the
inspiration, patron, and model for Fürstenberg. Additional articles throw light
on the Prince-Bishop’s work as a poet, a collector, and a patron of the arts and
artists.
Any book containing the contributions of several dozen authors is bound to
be somewhat uneven in quality, utility, and even readability. This is no exception, although there are no clear losers in the assembly.There is something here
for anyone interested in German history, church history, art history, or what the
Germans so felicitously call Geistesgeschichte during the seventeenth century.
WILLIAM C. SCHRADER
Bellarmine University

La Paix Clémentine.Défaite et victoire du premier jansénisme français sous le
pontificat de Clément IX (1667–1669). By Philippe Dieudonné. [Bibliotheca Ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium, 167.] (Leuven: Leuven
University Press, Uitgeverij Peeters. 2003. Pp. xxxix, 302. Paperback.)
The “Clementine Peace” was the name given at the time to the unexpected
truce that put an end to the twenty-year dispute between Catholics about
Jansenism. The dispute was centered on five “propositions,” first condemned by
Urban VIII (1653) “on the occasion” of the publication of Cornelius Jansenius’s
Augustinus, that were declared extracted from that book by Alexander VII
(1656). Along with Antoine Arnauld, the renowned Sorbonne theologian, the
Jansenist party accepted the condemnation but denied the connection with the
Augustinus. This was the famed distinction between right and fact, a classical
one in theology. Claiming church authority to define “dogmatic facts,” the
French episcopate, soon followed by the Pope, imposed on all the clergy a formulary or oath acknowledging this connection (1665). However, in their diocesan publication of Regiminis apostolici, the papal pronouncement, four French
bishops allowed for the distinction of fact, thus voiding the document’s objective. As, at Louis XIV’s request, Alexander VII had appointed an episcopal tribunal to judge the four bishops, nineteen of their colleagues offered their
support. It was to resolve this perilous situation that the new pope, Clement IX,
was approached. After secret negotiations, the “Peace of Church” was suddenly
proclaimed (1668). A. Arnauld was presented to the king by Nuncio Bargellini,
and the Jansenists were no longer a dangerous party. What had been negotiated

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and how? No explanation was given, but calculated leaks suggested a two-level
agreement: officially the four bishops had given a “pure and simple” assent, but
in a secret document they had nuanced it by maintaining the distinction.
Clement IX was said to have condoned this face-saving stratagem on the principle of “respectful”or “obsequious silence,”that is, that he would not prosecute
the dissenters against a promise that they would not express openly their objections. The Jesuits, who had been kept out of the negotiation, cried foul, but
as no formal rebuttal was ever issued, the interpretation was generally accepted
and has been repeated by historians since.
For the first time, a precise and complete reconstruction of this mysterious
episode is given in Philippe Dieudonné’s work, begun as a doctoral dissertation
(1996). Short of accessing the archives of the Holy Office, which were unavailable at that time, he has found documents that support a very different interpretation.The gist is that the Papacy never accepted such a duplicitous scheme;
all that Rome was willing to concede, on the pressing instance of the French
monarchy, was a form of submission that did not humiliate the recalcitrant bishops. The instructions given to Bargellini, a weak and gullible diplomat, were
clear:“pure, simple, sincere, and frank” acquiescence, nothing less” ( p. 170). The
nuncio was tricked by the Gallican negotiators, who offered a subscription formula “on the model of the rest of the French episcopate.” He realized too late
that this “model”did not refer to the full adhesion to the papal formulary by the
majority of the bishops, but to an additional report ( procès-verbal) developing
the distinction right/fact, that had been added to the signature of the nineteen
bishops ( p. 176). By the time the deception became evident to the special congregation of cardinals that followed negotiation in Rome, all they could do was
to recommend a carefully worded papal brief that would sanction the “peace”
but guard the future. Why such a decision that clearly weakened pontifical authority? The author suggests the fear of Gallicanism, which was indeed taking
shape both at the political and theological levels in this decade, and with it, that
of a schism. Diplomatic and political factors are also to be taken into account,
including Clement’s obsession with Christian resistance against the Turks. It
seems more probable that the Romans realized that an opportunity would soon
be offered to correct this regrettable faux-pas. They did not have too long to
wait; the truce was never fully observed and thirty years later the publication of
a case of conscience gave the Papacy the opportunity it needed to reimpose the
formulary and assert full papal authority on these matters (Vineam Domini,
1704).
Thanks to Philippe Dieudonné, a longtime obscure chapter of French religious and political history is now much clearer. He shows particularly well how
different factions in Louis XIV’s entourage all attempted to take part in the negotiation, and actually were influential. This is why contemporaries had such a
difficult time understanding what had happened. Above all, his work illustrates
the impact of the Jansenist crisis on the Tridentine church, namely, the issue of
Papal authority, and more precisely of infallibility. It is to be hoped, now that the

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541

Inquisition archives are accessible,that he will return to his subject and prolong
his interpretation of this curious but pivotal episode.
JACQUES M. GRES-GAYER
The Catholic University of America

Late Modern European
The Catholic Church and Russia: Popes, Patriarchs, Tsars and Commissars.
By Dennis J. Dunn. (Burlington, Vermont: Ashgate Publishing Company.
2004. Pp. xii, 260. $89.95.)
Dunn’s emphasis, seven of ten chapters, is on the era since 1917. Like Petr
Chaadaev, he attributes the individual liberty, limited government, and cultural
achievements of the West to the Roman Catholic Church. Although Russia’s
tsars occasionally looked to the Catholic West for modernization, they and the
Russian Orthodox Church instead chose autocracy to the detriment of their
people and their neighbors. Traditional hostility to Catholicism became savage
persecution under the Soviet regime, and anti-Catholicism persists less virulently today.
The Catholic model for Russia has some validity, and Dunn is right that many
histories of Russia underplay religion. Parts of his narrative, particularly on the
twentieth century, are coherent and convincing, and most of the relevant
sources are cited. But Dunn’s zeal for his thesis leads to dubious interpretations,
and there are factual errors.
As an example of Russia’s backwardness, Dunn says Muscovy had no schools
until the eighteenth century ( p.12),ignoring Fedor Rtischev’s founded in 1648,
Symeon Polots’kyi’s in 1665, and the Slavonic-Greek-Latin Academy in 1685.
There were no Catholic priests in Moscow in 1691, when Dunn claims SS. Peter
and Paul Parish was founded ( p. 28). The Jesuits returned to Russia in 1698, not
1702 ( p. 28). The two Moravian clerics who came in 1692 were diocesan
priests, not Franciscans ( p. 30).
Dunn states that, starting with Peter I, Russians “opened the door partially to
Catholicism, because it had a proven track record in modernization” ( p. ix), but
Peter looked more to Protestantism and Catherine II to enlightened despotism.
The Academy of Sciences was founded in 1725,not 1726 ( p.30).Dunn says that
Paul I’s reversal of Catherine II’s hostility to Catholicism was “an ephemeral, if
not loony, reaction to being dominated by his mother”( p. 40). But while Catherine was leery of papal authority, she established a formal Roman and Uniate hierarchy,protected the Jesuits,and recruited Catholic settlers for Russia,and Paul
consciously favored the Catholic Church as an ally against atheist and revolutionary forces. Stating that Napoleon was defeated by “a group of religious powers”( p.53) obscures more important factors driving his opponents.None of the
seven nineteenth-century Russian converts Dunn lists “had to emigrate because

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of intolerance” ( p. 54); several converted while abroad, and others left Russia
for non-religious reasons.
Further, although Patriarch Tikhon may have called the Bolshevik Revolution
“the work of Satan” ( p. 79), he refused to endorse the White opposition and
hoped the Church could survive in a Soviet state.To speculate that the Catholic
Church might not “have been much better off” if the Whites had won the Civil
War ( p. 80) contradicts Dunn’s own description of limited toleration before
1917 versus near extinction thereafter. Calling England, France, Poland, China,
and the United States “religious-based civilizations”against the “Nazi-CommunistJapanese campaign” ( p. 95) exaggerates the role of religion among the Allies,
particularly in China, and overlooks the Catholicism of such Nazi allies as Hungary, Slovakia, and Croatia. Gorbachev did not admit that “Communism was the
wrong choice for Russia’s development” ( p. vii) but instead continues to believe in Marxism-Leninism. Finally, it is unrealistic to suggest that Catholicism by
itself or in combination with a reformed Orthodoxy “is the logical solution to
Russia’s [current] dilemma” ( p. 220).
For a short survey of a very broad subject, Dunn includes numerous irrelevant passages, such as on Pius XII and the Holocaust or the breakup of Yugoslavia.The book is filled with misprints and inconsistent transliterations from
foreign languages. Thus, the same Russian letter becomes -e, -eo, or -yo. Foreign
first names are rendered in both original and anglicized versions. Accents, umlauts, Russian soft signs, and other diacritical marks appear and disappear haphazardly in Russian, Polish, German, French, Italian, Czech, Croatian, Romanian,
and Hungarian words. In short, this book is not the scholarly treatment the subject deserves.
DANIEL L. SCHLAFLY, JR.
Saint Louis University

Baroness of the Ripetta: Letters of Augusta von Eichthal to Franz Xaver
Kraus. By Robert Curtis Ayers. (Scottsdale, Arizona: Cloudbank Creations,
Inc. 2004. Pp. iv, 245. $36.95 hardcover; $24.95 paperback.)
Franz Xaver Kraus (1840–1901), professor of Christian archaeology and
church history at the University of Freiburg im Breisgau, is well known as a prolific writer and as an “éminence grise”as a church politician. He does not fit into
the mainstream of German Catholicism. While criticizing his fellow Catholics
for their political stance in the Center Party, he pleaded himself for a “religious
Catholicism” as he called it. It is not easy to assess precisely what this religious
Catholicism meant. At any rate he conceived it as in strong opposition to ultramontanism and Jesuitism.So Kraus is labeled a liberal Catholic which he was indeed with a strong progovernmental bent in favor of the governments of Baden
and Prussia. He neglected no effort toward keeping good relations with gov-

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543

ernment circles. His personal charm and an innate compulsion to mix with
high society drew him toward aristocratic ladies whose hearts he seems to have
easily won.
One of these ladies was the baroness Augusta von Eichthal (1835–1932), the
granddaughter of Aaron Elias Seligmann, the Jewish banker of the Bavarian
kings. Her parents had converted to Catholicism. Unlike her cousin Charlotte
Blennerhassett, née Countess Leyden (1840–1917), who through her mother
descended from the same ancestor and became a distinguished literary writer,
Augusta does not seem to have developed similar ambitions. As a fixed residence she stayed in Rome at 176 via della Ripetta. She was already an old spinster when Kraus met her in 1895 at the salon of Donna Ersilia Lovatelli and
started with her a correspondence which lasted until Kraus’s premature death.
Their exchange of letters has been preserved. Augusta’s letters are at the Stadtbibliothek Trier, Kraus’s at the Hauptstaatsarchiv München.
Robert C. Ayers has translated Augusta’s letters into English and published
them integrally, whereas Kraus’s letters appear from time to time in the footnotes. It does not seem that he attributed a great importance to this correspondent who traveled from Kurbad to Kurbad and from castle to castle. But her
cosmopolitan relations were useful for him and kept him informed about developments in Rome.Beyond plaintive anticurial and antidemocratic prejudices
the letters are not striking for particular information. Some of them might be interesting for American readers, especially when “Americanism” pops up in the
figures of John Ireland, John Lancaster Spalding, Bishop of Peoria, John J. Keane,
and Denis O’Connell. The author has invested much effort in identifying the
personalities that are quoted in the letters. Yet an index is sorely missed. A
photo of the impressive face of Kraus would have been welcome as well as a reproduction of the portrait of the young baroness by Emilie Linder (1797–1867),
painter and well-known Maecenas of artists in the Munich Goevres circle. The
painting is preserved at the Kunstmuseum Basel and has been reproduced by
Nikolaus Meier: Emilie Linder, Jacob Burchkardt und das Kunstleben der
Stadt Basel (Basel, 1997), p. 15.
VICTOR CONZEMIUS
Lucerne, Switzerland

Los años de seminario de Josemaría Escriva en Zaragoza (1920–1925). El
seminario de San Francisco de Paula. By Ramón Herrando Prat de la
Riba. [Instituto Histórico Josemaría Escriva—Roma, Monografías.] (Madrid:
Ediciones Rialp, S.A. 2002. Pp. 451. Paperback.)
The present work, a dissertation at the theological faculty of the University of
Navarre (1998), has a genesis that drags on over twenty-six years.

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After the death of Josemaría Escrivá, in preparation for the then initiated
process of beatification and canonization, the author together with other members of Opus Dei took part in the search for and documentation of pertinent
material as well as the interviewing of eyewitnesses who could give information on the seminary period of the young Escrivá at Zaragoza (1920–1925). The
efforts in this respect between 1975 and 1978 had a twofold result: on the one
hand, extensive material or documentation on Escrivá’s seminary—the San
Francisco de Paula House that in the meantime has ceased to exist—was found
in the Biblioteca del Real Seminario de San Carlos of Zaragoza. The documentation originally considered as missing was put back in its time setting and
archived in the Archivo Diocesano de Zaragoza. Herrando publishes a part of
these sources,of significant importance for the sixty-six-year history of the Seminary, in Apéndice documental ( pp. 265–440). Included here is also the Regolamento del Seminario and a Historia de la Fundación del Seminario. On the
other hand, extensive material today lies in Rome in the general archive of the
Prelature of Opus Dei, accrued through the interviews of the above-mentioned
eyewitnesses. In the Apéndice documental of the book, some of these are also
published ( pp. 321–370). These are mostly testimonies of Escrivá’s fellow students from his seminary period.
About twenty years later, the author submitted his research in Pamplona as a
dissertation. In a methodical and skillful evaluation of the above-mentioned
sources together with the consideration of other material culled from church
and state archives in Spain and an extensive bibliography, he was able to present an exceptionally graphic picture of the seminary formation in Spain and
particularly in the Zaragoza of those times (chapters 2–3, pp. 37–114). His presentation of the style of seminary formation in Zaragoza at the beginning of the
past century, in contrast to conventional historical opinions, paints a positive
picture. Here, Herrando also petitions for a more careful evaluation of the local
and regional sources so as to differentiate what in his opinion constitutes a
somewhat stereotyped criticism of the clergy as inadequate from the point of
view of human, religious, and academic qualifications.
The initial part of the book, however, is dedicated to the personality of St.
Josemaría, firstly, his development as an adolescent up until his decision for the
priesthood (chapter 1, pp. 23–34). The main part of the book presents Escrivá’s
stay in the seminary of San Francisco de Paula (chapters 4–6,pp.117–244).According to the statements of his fellow seminarians,the young seminarian stood
apart for his good manners, love of order, cleanliness, intelligence and for his
interest in cultural matters that, given the circumstances, was not to be taken
for granted. His intensively lived piety remained mainly inconspicuous in the
framework of the seminary life. It is remarkable that at the age of twenty, he was
appointed by Cardinal Soldevila,whose trust and esteem he enjoyed,to the post
of one of the two superiors of the seminary who, due to the frequent absence
of the director, were practically in charge of the day-to-day management of the
house. In the exercise of this office, the young cleric revealed remarkable lead-

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545

ership qualities. His fellow seminarians, all more or less in his age group
notwithstanding the decades gone by, still recalled his distinctive sense of justice and the winning manner in which he exercised his office. In the preserved
reports on his fellow students that he regularly had to prepare for the director
of the seminary, his respect for the personality of each student as well as the
positive and optimistic manner of approaching eventual problems was remarkable.
This book, ending with Escrivá’s priestly ordination on March 28, 1925, is
completed with a chronological overview, illustrations, tables, and index of
names. It delivers an interesting insight into the manner of seminary formation
at the beginning of the twentieth century and offers a well documented and
convincing representation of the personality and development of the young
Josemaría Escrivá during his seminary years.
JOHANNES GROHE
Pontifical University of the Holy Cross
Rome

Luigi Sturzo a Londra: Carteggi e documenti (1925–1946). Edited and with
an introduction by Giovanna Farrell-Vinay. Translated from the English by
Clara De Rosa. [Opera Omnia di Luigi Sturzo, Terza Serie, Scritti Vari, Volume IV-5.] (Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino Editore. 2003. Pp. x, 272. €24,00
paperback.)
The Istituto Luigi Sturzo is one of Europe’s principal research centers on
Christian Democracy and honors one of the chief voices of twentieth-century
political Catholicism. A Sicilian priest, Luigi Sturzo founded Italy’s Partito Popolare in 1919 and led it until Benito Mussolini’s Fascist regime and Pope Pius XI
combined to end it in 1926. Sturzo left Italy and lived the next twenty or so
years of his life in exile, much of it in Britain and America, until he returned to
Italy after World War II and assumed the role of elder statesman for the Christian Democracy before his death in 1959. The institute that bears his name has
devoted a great deal of its energies to the publication of Sturzo’s Opera Omnia.
A first series of publications covered Sturzo’s own major works; the second focused on his lesser pieces and speeches, while the third collected his “scattered” notes and letters (“scritti vari”). The work reviewed here appears as
volume IV-5 of the Third Series.
A preface by the head of the institute, Gabriele De Rosa, and extensive commentary and notes by Giovanna Farrell-Vinay enhance the collection. Sturzo
recognized international developments as the key to all politics, and this volume’s chief strength is its emphasis on his interest in world affairs. The Spanish
Civil War provides the central issue here and serves the most valuable insights.

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During his London years, Sturzo’s chief correspondent was the British journalist Henry Wickham Steed (usually referred to in Farrell-Vinay’s editing as
“Steed”). Wickham Steed recognized Sturzo’s brilliance in a 1925 tract on Fascism, contacted him, and the two developed a “working friendship” (amicizia
di lavoro) that lasted through World War II. Much of the business between the
two men concerned translating and publishing Sturzo’s work in English although efforts with the British Committee for Civil and Religious Peace in Spain
and endeavors to aid war refugees occupy key parts in the book. Sturzo seems
to have been his own non-governmental organization before there were such
things. Wickham Steed is the major but not the only one of Sturzo’s correspondents in this collection. Letters appear from an interesting mix, figures such as
Jacques Maritain, Anthony Eden, Robert Vansittart, and Salvador de Mandariaga.
The collection concludes with an exchange between Wickham Steed and Carlo
Sforza, the anti-Fascist exile and postwar foreign minister. Sturzo left London
and arrived in New York in September of 1940 with ten British pounds in his
pocket, and many letters in this collection represent correspondence after that
date. In Farrell-Vinay’s laudable zeal to publish all of Sturzo’s correspondence,
however, some of the material seems rather pedestrian. Quite a few of the missives are one- or two-sentence notes agreeing to meet here or there at this or
that time. At one point she needlessly devotes a footnote to explain the translation of “your obedient servant” into a rather clumsy Italian as “Suo obbediente
servitore.” One final, albeit minor, puzzle confronts the reviewer. Why are the
English-language letters translated into Italian but the ones in French remain in
the original? Such quibbles,moreover,do not invalidate the conclusion that Giovanna Farrell-Vinay has awarded us with a solid collection of the heroic Sicilian
priest’s letters written during his London exile, and then some.
ROY DOMENICO
The University of Scranton

Philippe Ariès and the Politics of French Cultural History. By Patrick H. Hutton. [Critical Perspectives on Modern Culture.] (Amherst: University of
Massachusetts Press. 2004. Pp. xxvii, 304; 20 illustrations. $80.00 clothbound; $24.95 paperback.)
Philippe Ariès was a major figure in historical scholarship in the last half of
the twentieth century, known principally for Centuries of Childhood (1962;
French edition 1960) and The Hour of Our Death (1981; French edition 1977).
These were key works in opening up new areas for historians: the history of
family, popular culture and “mentalities,” the shifting balance between public
and private spheres. Patrick Hutton’s intellectual biography combines probing
analyses of Ariès’ scholarship with a careful treatment of the social, political,
and professional contexts that shaped the man and his work.

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Hutton’s major thesis is that Ariès’ mature work as a scholar echoes commitments and concerns that come out of his royalist past. In the early chapters of
his book he shows us Ariès as a student in Paris working within a network of
friends and associates tied to Action Française and its leader, Charles Maurras.
France’s defeat by Germany in 1940, followed by the Vichy years, constitute a
turning point in Ariès’ life, as they did for all of the French who lived through
these catastrophic events. Hutton pays particular attention to Ariès’ time as a
teacher at the École des Cadres at La Chapelle, an institution designed to train a
new generation of French élites. For Hutton this was a crucial event, although
one that Ariès apparently passed over quickly in his own memoirs. At La
Chapelle Ariès’ work as a history instructor led him to move away from political narrative as the basis for organizing our knowledge of the past, in favor of
“the neglected histories of ordinary people in their everyday lives” ( p. 42).
These concerns show up as well in the columns that Ariès contributed to La
Nation Française, the royalist paper he wrote for in the 1950’s and 1960’s. His
royalism, and his failure to win a university position, left Ariès on the margin of
French intellectual life until the 1960’s. The enormous success of the English
translation of his work on childhood led in turn to his acceptance by a later and
less ideologically oriented group of French historians, such as Roger Chartier.
Hutton’s work is particularly valuable for its extensive treatment of the responses to his major historical writings. By the end of his life Ariès was well established at the École Pratique des Hautes Études, where he was a leader in
pushing scholars toward the study of private life.
Hutton searches constantly for the roots of Ariès’ historical output in his personal history, a position that is at times somewhat speculative. In dealing with
Ariès’ turn to the history of death, for example, Hutton writes,“One might argue
that at some level Ariès was trying to come to terms with losses that he identified with the Vichy years” ( p. 113). Perhaps, but Ariès was responding more immediately to the “denial of death” that he saw as a characteristic of the late
twentieth century. Hutton is persuasive in his insistence on the importance of
the Vichy years, but at times this argumentative line works to push other important motives too far into the background.
Hutton’s book is wonderfully lucid and informative,opening up a window on
French cultural history that shows us the enduring power of ideas coming from
the right. Much attention has been paid recently to the neo-liberalism of individuals such as Raymond Aron, who offered alternatives to the Marxist paradigm that dominated French intellectual life in the 1950’s and 1960’s. Hutton’s
portrayal of Ariès shows how the royalist tradition, with its respect for region,
family, and religion, managed to find its way into French culture after World War
II.His attitude toward Ariès is nicely balanced,for he combines sympathy for his
subject with pointed questions about his work with the Vichy regime and his
continued friendship with men on the right who never abandoned the antiSemitism that was a part of the culture of Action Française. Hutton’s final assessment is compelling and positive, however, for he shows us how Ariès’

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historical scholarship simultaneously embodied and transcended the narrow
commitments of pre-war French royalism.
THOMAS KSELMAN
University of Notre Dame
American
Mohawk Saint: Catherine Tekakwitha and the Jesuits. By Allan Greer. (New
York: Oxford University Press. 2005. Pp. xvi, 249. $30.00.)
Allan Greer is Professor of American Colonial History at the University of
Toronto, with several works to his credit. Here he focuses upon the life of the
seventeenth-century Mohawk Christian convert, Catherine (Kateri) Tekakwitha, whom he claims to be the most fully documented Indian in New World
colonial history. Almost all of that documentation is hagiography. Greer’s goal is
to create history from hagiography; therefore, he analyzes the hagiographers as
well as their subject and their mutual contexts. Greer takes especial interest in
the figure of Tekakwitha’s biographer, Jesuit Claude Chauchetière; indeed, this
is a “dual biography” ( p. x) of the Mohawk and the Jesuit.
After three years of association, Chauchetière observed Tekakwitha’s “beautiful death” in 1680 at Kahnawake, south of Montreal, and upon reflection, he
came to see her “as his spiritual superior and view his encounter with her as a
transformative moment” ( p. 5) in his troubled, mystical life. Her tranquil last
words,“I will love you in heaven”( p. 17), moved him to wonder: might she have
been a saint? He and his fellow Jesuit, Pierre Cholenec, could not believe it at
first, for “the fact that she was an Indian” ( p. 22). Jesuit martyrs could be saints,
but surely not a savage woman, even a fervent convert! Over time, however,
they became convinced of her sanctity; both penned spiritual biographies of
her and spread her fame.
Based upon their writings, Greer tells of Tekakwitha’s life, from her 1656
birth to an Algonquin mother, possibly an adopted captive of the Mohawks,
who was said to have been a “devout, baptized Catholic” ( p. 25). In the orbit of
Dutch trade and French attack in the Mohawk River valley, her village underwent “major crises . . . affected by the colonial presence” ( p. 31). Greer attests
to her childhood handiwork, typical of Mohawk women—crafting utensils and
preparing meals. Greer does a fine job in matching the Jesuits’ testimony about
her life to ethnographic sources, demonstrating her growing acumen as an industrious Iroquois woman. But if she was typical in most ways, she stood out in
several, including her conversion.
Her first encounter with a Catholic missionary was in her eighteenth year, as
the French Jesuits had entered her village, beginning in 1667. It took her eight
years to show her interest in their program, but when she did, in 1675, her impulse impressed Father Jacques de Lamberville, and she was baptized in 1676.
What attracted her, and how did she change, once she was baptized? Greer sug-

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gests that the greatest attraction—and the greatest change—was the proffered
migration from the Mohawk to the St. Lawrence valley, into the heart of Canadian New France, a seal of “politico-religious affiliation” ( p. 50).
She was one of many Mohawks in the 1670’s whom the Jesuits encouraged
to leave their home villages and re-establish themselves as French Catholic allies. Those who left constituted a “faction rallying around the cross and the
French alliance” ( p. 56), and their leaving weakened the Mohawks; however,
their migration did not make them any less Mohawk. This is Greer’s primary
point about Tekakwitha: even as a Christian,“she needs to be recognized as a
Mohawk girl, her existence framed by the life of the Mohawk longhouse, her
fate bound up in the vagaries of Mohawk history” ( p. 57).
Greer describes her in 1677:“So she came, at the age of twenty-one, a baptized Christian who had never seen a church, never tasted a communion wafer,
never met more than two or three Europeans, to the banks of the St. Lawrence
River and the newly constructed Iroquois village where she would spend the
rest of her days” ( p. 58).
What was this place to which she came,about the same time as Chauchetière?
It was “both a Jesuit mission, that is to say an instrument of directed religious
change, and a self-governing Catholic Iroquois community” ( p. 90). The place
maintained “a high degree of autonomy” ( p. 98) from New France law and alcoholic misrule. In this niche, Tekakwitha and other Natives became “active investigators probing the exotic myths and arcane rituals of a complex foreign
religion” ( p. 111), and they developed an eclectic spirituality. Among female
devotees she took up “the avoidance of the pleasures of the body and the mortification of the flesh” ( p. 115)—an extreme austerity that seemed to derive
from neither Jesuit nor Iroquois practices. For Tekakwitha, it was a matter of
self-control, in which she would say, “‘I shall be mistress of my own body’”
( p. 123). She embraced a “spiritual/somatic experience of using pain and discomfort to cross the line into sacred ecstasy” ( p. 124). After her first communion, and following a false accusation of sexual promiscuity, she “began to
develop a heightened self-consciousness about her own virginal purity”
( p. 132). By 1678 she had become one of the “spiritual athletes of Kahnawake”
( p. 132), engaging in “mutual flagellation” ( p. 134) and other forms of “excessive, unregulated penances” ( p. 143). Her relatives and the priests were both
concerned about the path taken by her “circle of female penitents”( p.144),and
indeed, it led to her death in 1680.
This might have been the end of Tekakwitha, but within a year, Father
Chauchetière was urging French habitant patients to “have recourse to the
dead Mohawk woman” ( p. 151) in search for cures, which were called miraculous. Within several years, poor white habitants were making pilgrimages to
Kahnawake. Other miracles followed, and her legend grew, resulting in a spate
of spiritual biographies, a campaign for her canonization, and a cult of devotion
across North America, especially among some Native Americans.

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Despite the documentation that exists regarding Tekakwitha, Greer is forced
on occasion to use the conjectural “would have been” (e.g., p. 48) construction
to speculate about the details of her life,and that of Chauchetière.Nevertheless,
one gains confidence in the nuanced judgments of an author who has researched thoroughly and come to understand the intersecting worlds of Tekakwitha and Chauchetière.
CHRISTOPHER VECSEY
Colgate University

Unaffected by the Gospel. Osage Resistance to the Christian Invasion, 1673–
1906: A Cultural Victory. By Willard Hughes Rollings. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. 2004. Pp. xii, 243. $45.00 hardcover; $22.95
paperback.)
What benefits is a religion supposed to provide? The nineteenth-century
Osage Indians of the southern prairie-plains expected tangible things: plenty of
buffalo, large corn harvests, success in war, healthy families. Their religion was
concerned with the here and now and not so much with the soul and its afterlife. And up to the 1820’s, it seemed to work well for the Osages. So well that
when Protestant and Catholic missionaries arrived among them, their message
fell on stony ground. Willard Hughes Rollings, an associate professor of history
at the University of Nevada-Las Vegas, argues that the Osages found that Christianity, as these missionaries taught it, did not provide the benefits they expected. So they ignored it and instead maintained a distinctly Osage set of
beliefs.
The first intensive Osage missionary effort came in 1820 with the Protestant
United Foreign Missionary Society (USFM). Hoping for schools, manufactured
goods, food, and protection, the Osages initially welcomed the missionaries. But
when these items failed to materialize the Osages lost interest. Even worse, this
flinty New England Protestantism was just too alien. It possessed little imagery.
And dry sermons that told the Osages they were a degraded people who should
give up their Indian culture did little to attract them. Instead, the Osages remained satisfied with their own communitarian ways and were unwilling to become entrepreneurial small farmers. In 1837, the Protestants, with few if any
converts, threw up their hands in failure.
During the 1840’s, the Jesuits also began missionary work among the Osages
in southern Kansas. The pageantry of Catholic Mass and communion, supported by the crucifix, the chalice, and the censer, all appealed to the Osages.
With its saints and rituals, Catholicism seemed somewhat similar to their own
religion. And while there did seem to be more Osage conversions by the
Catholics than by the Protestants, the tangibles were equally lacking.

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Rollings sees the Catholics as unsuccessful as the Protestants. Most Catholic
converts were métis, the children of French creole traders and Osage women.
And it was these who filled Catholic schools and missions,rather than full-blood
Osages. Soon the Jesuits were spending all their time ministering to the métis.
And when the last Osages were moved to Indian Territory in the early 1870’s,
the Catholics did not follow, but remained with their métis congregation.
Down on an Oklahoma reservation, hemmed in by government regulations
and modern society, Osage religion changed as some rituals disappeared while
others took on a new importance. Nevertheless, by the early twentieth century,
Osage beliefs remained powerful, as seen in the rise of the Peyote Road of the
Native American Church.Shrugging off both Catholicism and Protestantism,the
Osages created and maintained a religion that fit them and their needs.
Rollings has produced a thoughtful work. While these missionaries may have
failed, Christianity itself did not. If anything, it gave the Osages more choices.
Today there are plenty of Osages who attend a powwow on Saturday night and
then show up for church on Sunday. It’s an Osage way. And that’s really what
Rollings is arguing.
DAVID LA VERE
University of North Carolina Wilmington

Converting California: Indians and Franciscans in the Missions. By James A.
Sandos. (New Haven: Yale University Press. 2004. Pp. xix, 251. $35.00.)
James A. Sandos set a formidable task for himself in writing this new treatment of a well-furrowed subject, Franciscan missionization in Alta California,
1769–1830’s. His stated intent is to reconcile the two prevailing but opposing
interpretative views of the mission era:“the pro- and anti-Franciscan” schools of
thought. The former has been dubbed “Christophilic Triumphalist” by David J.
Weber: “‘self-sacrificing priests of the Christian God selflessly devoted . . . to
bringing the spiritual truth and uplift to benighted savages.’” The latter school,
which “has emerged over the past fifty years,” Sandos labels “Christophobic Nihilist” ( p. xiii). To complete his new synthetic approach, the author introduces
a new interpretative element,“theohistory,” a combination of theology and history as a complement to accepted ethnohistory ( p. xvi).
The net result is a book that fascinates and frustrates,since it literally oscillates
between the two polarized theses. But it appears that more weight is given to
the negative aspects of Franciscan missionary activities as seen from the Nihilist
perspective. To the author’s credit, however, he repudiates those critics’ charges
that the missionaries enslaved Indians and instituted a policy of genocide.
Sandos’ primary target throughout is Junípero Serra.The friar is castigated for
inscribing on “the theological clean slate of California . . . his well ordered un-

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derstanding of the medieval world. In ‘these last centuries’ before the Apocalypse, Serra would build a model of a primitive Christian church, a community
of Indians and Franciscans clustered in their mission settlements learning and
teaching Christian doctrine, preparing themselves for the return of Christ” ( p.
79). Serra’s medieval views, according to the author, were derived from his devotion to the life of St. Francis Solano (1549–1610), the famed Franciscan missionary who died in Peru, the philosophy and theology of the Scot Franciscan,
John Duns Scotus (1263–1308), and the mystical writings of the Franciscan
nun, María de Jesús de Ágreda (1602–1665), noted for her four-volume The Mystical City of God (1670), which expositated the concept of the Virgin Mary’s
“Immaculate Conception.” Serra is taken to task for adherence to the Scholastic theological view of the egocentric structure of the universe in face of the
sixteenth-century Copernican heliocentric system. Serra’s repudiation of the
latter proves his medieval outlook in all things.
The frustrating elements in Sandos’ book are argumentative. However, he has
an excellent chapter on venereal disease, which is well detailed in respect to
syphilis, but slights the impact of gonorrhea on the birth rate. Nor does the
chapter detail the problem of native lack of sanitation and sanitary habits. One
of the widespread health problems was skin disease. To the credit of the government and the friars, smallpox never appeared in Spanish California. Quarantine was well understood in respect to some contagious diseases. And the
author does not blame the friars for not understanding the spread of contagious
diseases, other than to fault them for forcing young and unmarried women to
sleep in confined quarters. Friars are also condemned for their lack of understanding of miscarriages; yet by Spanish fiat, a dying, pregnant woman’s child
had to be saved by caesarean operation. About a dozen were performed in California, but no infant survived the procedure.
If one is to fully understand Franciscans as missionaries, one has to have
knowledge of the Rule of the Order of Friars Minor, as well as the formation of
vocations as a postulant, novice, and to be professed. Furthermore, a knowledge
of the curriculum in priestly training should be surveyed.Equally important,the
role of the College of San Fernando in Mexico City in preparing friars, both assigned and volunteers, for their missionary labors should be examined. How is
it that Serra and some of his confreres were highly successful in the Sierra
Gorda missions, yet are condemned for their California activities? One element
was surely the lack of a common language in Alta California, for in the Sierra
Gorda Serra compiled a Pamé Indian vocabulary. And even in California there
were efforts on the part of a handful of friars to try to do the same for local mission languages.
There is a splendid chapter on “Music and Conversion.” Unfortunately, the
like role that art played in missionization is slighted by reliance on the flawed
work of James Nolan, which has subsequently been revisited and revised in a
lengthy article by the gifted mission art and architecture historian, Norman
Neuerburg.

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553

To this reviewer, Sandos does not make the case for “theohistory.”The reason
is simple: to really understand Catholic theology one would need at least three
years of study/instruction at a minimum. As an illustration, the author does not
accept baptism as conversion—to him it is only the beginning of the process
for neophytes. Baptism is much more: The Gospel tells us it is the key to salvation.This is why mission death registers have so many in extremis baptismal entries—a dying person must be baptized by either a priest or a lay person. Why?
To save his immortal soul. Although there are spotty references to sources with
some theological content, the text does not reflect a solid grounding in the subject matter.
The author’s failing here is more clearly seen in the concluding two paragraphs
in his book,the question of and about Serra’s sainthood.In discussing that subject
the Serra Cause should have been carefully researched, including a reading of the
Summarium which was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Causes of
Saints in Rome—the full text of which is published. A second important document to be consulted would be the text read at the beatification ceremony when
Serra was declared Blessed. That text, too, is available for reference.
DOYCE B. NUNIS, JR.
University of Southern California (Emeritus)

The Irish in New Jersey: Four Centuries of American Life. By Dermot Quinn.
(New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press. 2004. Pp. x, 226.
$26.95.)
When I first opened The Irish in New Jersey I was a little put off by the first
illustration. Depicting New Jersey’s first royal governor, Lord Cornbury, in the
transvestite costume which he is reported to have favored, that illustration carries the caption, “a perfect personification of New Jersey’s in-betweenness.”
Where I come from, those are fighting words. Fortunately, the worth of a book
is no better judged by its first illustration than by its cover. And Professor
Quinn’s book is more than worth reading to the end.
This book, telling the story of one of New Jersey’s largest ethnic groups, is a
gem because with insight and a delightful style, the author, without neglecting
either Ireland or New Jersey, transcends the standard regional history genre,
and gives the reader a broader and deeper appreciation of the Irish immigrant
experience. Quinn dismisses the notion that there is a fixed Irish racial type, or
even a common Irish immigrant. Rather, using the stories of Irish immigrants to
New Jersey, he provides some marvelous and helpful descriptions of the complexity of “Irishness” on both sides of the Atlantic. Without dismissing other religious traditions, Quinn also treats extensively of the unique bond between
Irishness and Catholicism as that consciousness developed in Ireland and as it
was experienced in New Jersey. Finally, Quinn describes the symbiotic ex-

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change between Ireland and New Jersey. “Ireland intruded into New Jersey’s
history, and New Jersey into Ireland’s” ( p. 7). This thesis, while unique, could
also be applied to other parts of America. The author deftly supports his contention that it was the very sense of Irishness in the immigrants that provided
them with a deeper and more expansive awareness of being Americans. At the
same time, New Jersey was a wonderful arena in which to express the different
ways of being Irish, providing a freedom and a perspective to the Irish immigrant that was not readily available in Ireland itself.
The style of the book is one of its endearing features.There are no population
charts, or ethnicity comparisons, or biographies of every successful Irish New
Jerseyan. Rather, Professor Quinn, with the skill of a master story-teller, weaves
together the stories of Irish immigrants to New Jersey, both famous and unknown, so deftly that one hardly notices how much history is being covered
and how thoroughly one has been immersed in the topic. Every ethnic group in
New Jersey,or in any state,would be well-served by a similar treatment that preserves not only the facts of their immigration, but also the romance of their
story.
One of the glories of this book is the more than 200 photographs, reprints,
and maps that grace its pages. If I could offer a minor criticism, it is that the
work could have used some tighter caption editing. On page 147, Archbishop
Thomas Walsh is shown “with the four men he had consecrated as bishops.”But
there are six men in the picture. Bishop William Griffin was overlooked. A similar omission occurs on page 159.The captions for some other photos are vague
in their description. But again, this is a minor criticism against a truly delightful
read. The Irish in New Jersey will prove a useful and satisfying work for anyone
interested in New Jersey, Irish and Irish-American history and culture, and the
immigrant scene in America in general.
RAYMOND J. KUPKE
Immaculate Conception Seminary
Seton Hall University

Catholic Daughters of the Americas: A Century in Review. By Berard L.
Marthaler, OFM Conv., and Carol Dorr Clement. (New York: Catholic
Daughters of the Americas and Mercury Publishing Services. 2003. Pp. vi,
151. $40.00.)
The Catholic Daughters of the Americas, which originated as the Daughters
of Isabella in Utica, New York, in the spring of 1903, has made significant contributions to the life of the Church and to the benefit of society in the United
States and beyond. The authors of this centennial history of the CDA have
crafted a fascinating narrative grounded in documentation and in the best of

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the secondary religious and social literature.The result is a splendid work of history, not merely a chronicle of events.
Complementing the text is an abundance of attractive visual material depicting leaders, programs and projects, and publications under the CDA motto
“Unity and Charity.”There are also photos indicating the Daughters’ devotion to
Mary Immaculate, the apostolates, and the social vision permeating the Daughters’ religious world view.
The book is very well organized; the first two chapters deal with the foundation and developments during the first thirty years. The remaining chapters
focus on leaders and programs neatly placed into social and ecclesial contexts
such as war, depression, civil-rights, anticommunism, Vatican Council II, and
right-to-life activities.There are four “Special Sections,”or topical inter-chapters.
The first, “The Daughters’ Different Voices,” features the various publications
promoting communication, dedication to the Order’s purposes, and promotion
of new programs and membership. The second explores “Ritual: Ceremony,
Passwords, and Dress.” The third is a summary history of the “Junior Catholic
Daughters of the Americas.” The fourth, “Las Hijas Católicas de las Américas,”
is the story of the expansion of the Daughters into Puerto Rico, the Dominican
Republic, the Virgin Islands, and Mexico that led to the 1978 formal acknowledgment of the plural “Americas” in the title.
John Carberry, the Grand Knight of the Utica Council of Knights of Columbus, organized the CDA in the spring of 1903 as the first Court of the Daughters
of Isabella, and was the first Supreme Regent. Three other of his fellow Knights
were responsible for the national financial, legal, and secretarial roles, and three
women joined them as the original incorporators in May of that year. The principal woman among the incorporators was Mary L. McKernan, who, upon the
death of Carberry in 1906, became the first female Supreme Regent. Michael
Kelly, National Secretary of the Board of Directors from 1903 to 1923, was the
last man to be involved in the Daughters’ administration.
The historical significance of the Knights of Columbus is, of course, not limited to its roles in the foundation and governance of the Daughters. The K of C
proclaimed their patron as the founder of the nation, and perceived the Santa
María as a Catholic counter-symbol of the Puritans’ Mayflower. The Knights’
ceremonials ritualized the moral lessons derived from Columbus. Notable
Catholic women celebrated Queen Isabella of Spain for sacrificing her jewels to
fund the first voyage of Columbus, and her image gained great stature during
the fourth centennial of his landfall in the “New World.”Daniel Colwell,National
Secretary of the K of C for nearly thirty years, had provided the ceremonials for
the Ladies Auxiliary of Russell Council in New Haven, the town where Father
Michael McGivney founded the K of C at St. Mary’s Parish in October of 1881.
Colwell’s initiation ritual dramatized the jewel motif, and after a new member
completed the ritual the “crown of Isabella” was placed upon her head. Songs,
pins, and insignia were symbols of the women’s organization, which was incor-

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porated in Connecticut in March, 1904, as Daughters of Isabella, Circle No. 1
Auxiliary to Russell Council.
Daniel Colwell also influenced the Utica Daughters’ rituals. Knights and
Daughters were united in the promotion of noble compatibility of Americanism
and Catholicism. In a 1908 brochure, the Utica Order acknowledged that it “parallels the Knights of Columbus and aims to do for Catholic womankind what the
Knights of Columbus has accomplished for Catholic Manhood.” With the expansion of Utica courts into Connecticut,a conflict ensued between the New Haven
and Utica groups as to which had the right to the name “Daughters of Isabella.”
The legal struggle was finally adjudicated in favor of the New Haven group,
which had first adopted the name, while the Utica society was the first to have
been incorporated as the Daughters of Isabella. In 1921 the Utica society chose
the name “Catholic Daughters of America.” However, by that time, Mary McKernan and Utica members had bolted from the society because of the contested
election of 1915 that led to the accession of Genevieve H. Walsh of New York
City as Supreme Regent. After a prolonged political struggle, the Utica members
went on their own and formed a “Catholic Women’s Club” in 1917.
Drs. Clement and Marthaler neatly narrate trends in leadership and programs
in the remaining chapters, the themes of which were referred to earlier in listing the contents. Eventually the CDA established a national headquarters in
New York City as part of a modernization process that also included several
constitutional changes in the character of the rituals and term limits for the national and local officers.
National chaplains influenced the direction of several projects of the Daughters, such as the formation of the Junior CDA, participation in programs of the
Women of the Grail,support for Catholic rural life programs,civil rights,and the
foundation of the CDA Chair in American Catholic History at The Catholic University of America. The Daughters contributed funds for the construction of
five chapels in the apse of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception,
each dedicated to one of the glorious mysteries of the rosary. The Order’s overseas efforts concentrated on funds and materials for the Catholic Relief Services, originally entitled the War Relief Services. The noted author and editor
Eileen Egan was the CRS staff person concerned with these projects.
In 2003–04, National Regent Grace DiCarano of New Jersey presided over
the celebration of the Centennial year of the CDA. In her preface to this history,
Mrs. DiCarano extended her gratitude to past National Regents, particularly to
Grace Rinaldi of California for forming the History Committee, and to Eunice
Riles of Louisiana for initiating the History Project.After consultation with Monsignor Stephen Happel, the late Dean of the School of Theology and Religious
Studies at Catholic University, Mrs. Riles, with the advice of members of the Executive Committee such as Mrs. DiCarano and Mrs. M. Joan McKenna of Massachusetts, who is the current National Regent, came to an agreement with the
historians to write this centennial history. This splendid co-operation of CDA
and CUA led to the publication of this history, a book that is a good read, and

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one which will have particular appeal to historians and readers interested in
the history of American Catholic women.
CHRISTOPHER J. KAUFFMAN
The Catholic University of America

Mountain Sisters: From Convent to Community in Appalachia. By Helen M.
Lewis and Monica Appleby. (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky. 2003.
Pp. xxiv, 299. $35.00.)
Mountain Sisters: From Convent to Community in Appalachia documents
the journey of the women who left the Glenmary Sisters in 1967 to form the
non-canonical group, the Federation of Communities in Service (FOCIS). The
book is FOCIS’s effort to document its collective story through an oral history
methodology that allows a personal voice in the midst of an historical chronicle. Particular attention is given to the stories of the original members who left
Glenmary and started FOCIS. After the four main parts, two appendices follow
which include a glossary of terms and an identification of names and backgrounds of FOCIS members.
Part I documents the beginnings of the Glenmary Home Mission Sisters of
America as a new, young, and energetic religious community whose ministry to
rural mountain people was transformed by Vatican Council II. Failed negotiations with the institutional church over issues of habit and governance resulted
in the departure of over one hundred members. Approximately forty-four of
these formed FOCIS.
A short section at the end of Part I captures the self-critique of contemporary FOCIS members as they contemplate the reasons behind the Glenmaryhierarchy impasse in the 1960’s and the subsequent loss of institutional church
support. Members comment,“There were things we thought we could do without the church structure that we have not been able to do [really]”( p.79).From
the vantage point of history, members explore many factors with candor. This
section, however brief, constitutes a good reflection for contemporary women
religious entertaining the idea of non-canonical status.
The formation of FOCIS constitutes Part II. The original vision of FOCIS as a
lay religious community quickly yielded to the reality of a loosely knit organization that incorporated new members, including husbands and children. Emphasis shifted “away from the idea of a centralized organization in favor of the
specific needs of the communities” where members settled ( p. 116).
Part III portrays the multitude of organizations, advocacy efforts, community
outreach programs that emerged from the work of FOCIS members along with
the evolution of their personal lives.Although a bit tedious at times, these chapters are informative regarding the leadership required for community development and the empowerment of underserved populations. Part IV emphasizes

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FOCIS’s theological understanding of themselves as church and as an alternative community of service and support outside the strictures of the institutional
church.
The epilogue employs a recurring theme by focusing on the impasse today
between women religious with the hierarchy via Sister Nancy Sylvester’s 2000
presidential address to the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. In spite
of this, Mountain Sisters fails to sufficiently address its relatedness to the Glenmary Sisters now based in Owensboro, Kentucky, and to the renewal story of
other American sisters. This book is primarily an engaging internal story about
a group’s vision of ministry and mission during a time when the paradigm of authority and obedience for both church and society was being transformed.
JUDITH A. EBY, R.S.M.
College of Saint Mary
Omaha, Nebraska

Latin American
The Jesuit and the Incas: The Extraordinary Life of Padre Blas Valera, S.J. By
Sabine Hyland. (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. 2003. Pp. xvi, 269.
$30.00 clothbound; $18.95 paperback.)
Hyland’s thought-provoking biography of Father Blas Valera, S.J., is the heart
of a story of intrigue and mystery that touches on the authenticity of such ubiquitous bases of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Andean history as the Nueva
crónica y buen gobierno and the accuracy of the traditionally-accepted kinglist presented by Juan de Betanzos and other chroniclers. As such it is a “mustread” by all serious scholars of native Andean history. The story, told in ten
chapters, is inserted within a context of the debates over the legitimacy of the
Iberian rule of America and over the character of Inca rule and civilization and
Andean religion. After a straightforward introduction, she reconstructs Valera’s
early life in Chachapoyas and Trujillo (Chap. 2); his career as a Jesuit missionary
in Huarochirí (early 1570’s), Santiago del Cercado (outside of Lima) (1573),
Cuzco (1576), Potosí (1576), and Juli (1577) (Chap. 3); and his writings (Chap.
4). The next three chapters summarize Valera’s view of native history and particularly the list of over ninety pre-Inca rulers, a dynasty that Fernando de
Montesinos also discusses; Valera’s theories about the Quechua language and
writing systems; and Valera’s understanding of Inca religion. After a chapter on
the events that incarcerated this mestizo Jesuit (1583–1594), Hyland assesses
the “Naples Documents” and their implication for the story.
Her best chapters reconstruct his intellectual biography by tracing the people
who influenced him,including native noblemen who recited their traditions before him as a school boy; Fray Melchior Hernandez, the author of Anotaciones
on Inca religious history; José de Acosta, who shared his pro-native leanings but
contested many of his ideas on native religion; Father Onofre Esteban, a native

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Chachapoyan sympathetic to natives; Bishop Luis López de Soliz, an outspoken
critic of the encomenderos for their abuses of the natives; Francisco Falcon,
whose work Apologia pro Indis is now lost; the members of the Nombre de
Jesús confraternity in Cuzco; and the learned native men (quipucamayos) of
Quito, Cajamarca, Huamachuco, Pachacamac, Tarama, Sacsahuana, Chincha, Cuntisuyu, and Collasuyu ( p. 93). The knowledge he gleaned from these sources
resulted in four works: an account of the conversion of the natives; a history,
written in Latin that, in part, became an important source for Garcilaso de la
Vega’s writing; a vocabulary that later informed Giovanni Anello Oliva; and a description of Andean customs, probably written in 1594 while he recuperated
from an illness in Quito on his way to Spain. In this body of work he expressed
opinions, such as that the Inca god Viracocha was Christ ( p. 193); that Quechua
was as expressive as Latin; that Inca rule was legitimate and moral; and that the
Spanish conquest was unjust. His Jesuit superiors judged these ideas and others
as heretical and moved to suppress them. Hence, his subsequent status as an incarcerated political prisoner and, ultimately, a resolution banning all mestizos
from the Society. Hyland concludes that Valera was not imprisoned by the Inquisition for fornication (as some have thought), but by the Jesuits themselves
for teaching grammar (Quechua) and religion in an unorthodox way.
Her analysis of the Naples Documents and summary of the controversy are
equally intriguing. They contain claims that Valera’s death was faked; that he returned to Peru in June of 1598 and remained there for twenty more years before returning to Spain (in 1618) to die (in 1619); that Valera wrote the Nueva
crónica; and that Pizarro used poisoned wine to trick and subdue Atahualpa
and his attendants. Based on a content analysis, a comparison of Valera’s known
signatures, and technical tests of the paper, ink, wax, and metal, Hyland concludes that the documents are seventeenth- and eighteenth-century forgeries,
that, in part, confirm facts about Valera and, in part, are lies (e.g., that Valera
wrote the Nueva crónica).
My main problems with the book are two. First, she uses the verb “owned”
when describing Valera’s father’s relationship to his encomienda Indians,which
technically is incorrect ( pp.9,14).The second is translation,both literal and cultural. Translation difficulties harken back to Felipillo, Pizarro’s translator in the
presence of Atahualpa ( p. 119). But, I contend that translation problems still
plague the profession, as her rendering of the word “Tahuantinsuyu” makes
clear. The word, standardly applied to the Inca empire, meant a whole of four
parts. The question is four parts of what: four parts of the whole as conceived
by the natives themselves (a nation, defined demographically as a people and
lineage) or four parts of a whole in a territorial sense as assumed by the Spanish? In this case, are we, present-day historians, anthropologists, and archaeologists still imposing European understandings on Andean history? Are we still
searching for an elusive native point of view? Perhaps a too-European perspective is what Valera and the pro-Indian writers of the 1560’s and 1570’s were trying to correct.They were rewarded for their efforts with censorship and worse.
Perhaps that is why the historical profession has largely sidelined the writings

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BOOK REVIEWS

of Valera, Montesinos, and Anello Oliva, especially on the issue of the list of Andean kings.Does the field favor the writing of Juan Polo de Ondegardo precisely
because his work does not challenge our cultural paradigms? If so, this work
takes a step toward our eventual liberation from our own cultural filters.
SUSAN ELIZABETH RAMÍREZ
Texas Christian University
Fort Worth, Texas

Australian and Asian
Missionaries on the Move: A Pastoral History of the Scalabrinians in Australia and Asia 1952–2002. By Desmond Cahill. (New York: Center for Migration Studies. 2004. Pp. xviii, 504. $29.95 paperback.)
In 1878 Giovanni Battista Scalabrini was appointed Bishop of Piacenza,where
he was to remain until his death at the age of 65 in 1905. He was a pastorally
minded bishop who focused much attention on catechetical formation, which
led to his convening of the First National Catechetical Congress in Italy. His pastoral strategy also centered on a systematic visitation of the 365 parishes that
made up his diocese. It was during the first of his visitations in 1876–77 that he
became aware of a troubling statistic: 11 percent of his flock for whom he was
pastorally responsible had emigrated to overseas destinations. This reality was
accompanied by a Damascus-like experience, when at the Milan railway station
he was moved by the sight of so many of his fellow countrymen preparing
themselves to emigrate to distant shores.He described his thoughts and how he
was deeply moved by this sight in his diocesan weekly, and in 1887 he would
put his concerns into practical effect through the foundation of the Congregation of the Missionaries of Saint Charles Borromeo for the Emigrants, better
known by the name taken from the founder, the Scalabrinians.
From its beginnings in 1887 the new Congregation had experienced many
difficulties and in the 1920’s had come close to extinction, but this was overcome through the wise oversight and guidance of Cardinal De Lai, Secretary of
the Sacred Consistorial Congregation, whom Pius XI appointed as their Superior General. In 1951 the Congregation became independent of the Consistorial Congregation and able to independently elect their superior general.
This present book,which traces the Scalabrinian mission in Australia and Asia
from 1952 to 2002, thus opens at a significant moment in the Congregation’s
overall history,a year after it regained its independence.It says something of the
spirit and courage of the Congregation to embark on a new mission to such a
distant shore in the form of four Scalabrinians—three priests and a lay brother.
The challenges they faced just over fifty years ago are considerably different
from those faced by the present members of the Scalabrinians working in the
Southern Hemisphere, and one of the many positive aspects of this book is to
trace those challenges as the Congregation gradually spread to various parts of

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561

Australia and in recent years to the Philippines.Theirs was no easy task.In many
respects they suffered the same problems, doubts, and insecurities as the emigrants they came to serve: tensions between themselves and the predominant
Irish clerical and lay culture of the Australian Catholic Church;difficult relations
with some of the local hierarchy; apostolates in isolated and difficult parishes,
such as the first in Silkwood in northern Queensland, known as the Australian
‘Deep South’; and the inevitable tensions among the members of the Congregation as they sought to understand the Australian character and adequately respond to it.
The story is told with care and sympathy and the author has used a variety of
sources to weave a delightful, occasionally sad, though positive historical presentation. Clearly he was constrained by the fact that his is ‘living history,’
namely, that a number of the characters on whom the story is based are still
alive. Given this he has made a judicious use of archival material found in the
provincial house in Mosman, Sydney, along with interviews with the priests
concerned and his own critical observations.The historical development of the
Scalabrinians is centered on two key approaches: the first, by tracing the personal stories of those men who undertook various new works to Italian immigrants in parishes in various parts of Australia; the second, by concentrating on
the pastoral challenges they met in those selfsame apostolates. It is a highly successful approach as it conveys something of the personal trials of an endless
number of individuals who nevertheless meet the obvious pastoral needs of
those they feel called to serve.
Religious history takes many forms, and the present work is an excellent contribution to our understanding of how a recently independent religious congregation faced a series of challenges in a new and complex world. It is full of
telling anecdotes and accompanied by wise observations. The end of the book,
which looks at the expansion of the original mission to the Philippines and
other parts of Asia, under certain aspects reflects some of the questions that the
original Scalabrinians faced when in 1952 they first landed in Australia. Fortunately,they not only have the benefit of hindsight but also that of a readable and
cogent history of those who preceded them.
BRIAN E. FERME
The Catholic University of America

BRIEF NOTICES

COPPA, FRANK J. The Papacy Confronts the Modern World. [The Anvil Series.]
(Malabar, Florida: Krieger Publishing Company. 2003. Pp. xii, 178. $19.50
paperback.)
Dr. Frank J. Coppa, professor of history at St. John’s University, has provided
this little volume for the Anvil Series of concise histories, which will be of use
to the general reader and to the beginning student who looks to place the many
historical details of the modern papacy (since 1775) into some chronological,
as well as broad political, economic, social, and religious contexts. The 124
pages of very condensed history and analysis are followed by forty pages of
small excerpts of thirty-one well chosen papal and other documents intended
to illustrate points made in the text. The select bibliography consists of a helpful listing of English-language materials, “readily available” and “geared to the
general reader.” Though there are no illustrations or maps, there is a concise
index.
Coppa examines the policies of sixteen papacies,from the time of the French
Revolution through the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the Soviet
Union. Considerably more attention is paid to the twentieth century than to the
previous years addressed. Focusing on papal responses to modern cultural and
political developments, the prose tends to present broad categories with little
nuance. While replete with much useful information, scholars may occasionally
find the work frustrating in those places where the author makes broad generalizations (e.g., p. xi:“John XXIII . . . has been selected by scholars and the faithful as the outstanding pope of the modern age.”). In addition, Coppa’s approach
lends to a perspective in which there nearly always appear to be two “camps”
within the Church, namely, those favoring accommodation and reconciliation
with the contemporary age and those opposed. He leaves unresolved the question as to which of these positions the Church has ultimately embraced.The text
might well prove to be a helpful short reference book or supplemental text for
college students and readers interested in the modern papacy. JAMES F. GARNEAU
(Mount Olive College, North Carolina)

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563

LEMAÎTRE, NICOLE. L’obituaire de Saint-Michel-sur-Orge. Avant-propos by Jean
Favier. [Recueil des Historiens de la France, Obituaires, série in-8º, volume
V.] (Paris: Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, Diffusion de Boccard. 2002. Pp. viii, 95. €15 paperback.)
This is an edition of a rare document from early modern France: an obituary,
or calendar of endowed Masses, for a rural parish church.A genre merging liturgical calendar with account book, the obituary was born of the late medieval
practice of establishing perpetual anniversary Masses in exchange for a donation or annuity attached to property. The obituary derived its religious meaning
from belief in purgatory, intercessory prayer, and communion of the living with
the dead. When this symbolic world began to fragment in the early eighteenth
century, Nicole Lemaître explains, the obituary fades from the historical record.
The obituary of Saint-Michel-sur-Orge, a small wine-producing village south of
Paris, fits this chronology perfectly. In the 1550’s the pastor and churchwardens
compiled a book apparently in use until 1715, when the parish appealed to the
archdiocese to allow a reduction of services (as allowed by the Council of
Trent, 25th sess. chap. 4). Lemaître has given us an exemplary scholarly edition.
In a splendid introductory essay she discusses the village’s topography, economy, and society. She also discusses the preservation of family and local memory through endowed Masses in this small corner of the Christian world. Today
the Paris suburb of Saint-Michel-sur-Orge has a website. But for the early modern period Lemaître’s book may be the closest we can come to a portrait of an
ordinary, relatively humble community of goods and spirit, between the wars of
religion and the Enlightenment. VIRGINIA REINBURG (Boston College)

SOBOTTA, JOHANNES. Gerhard Schündelen (1808–1876). Uebersetzer von Werken
John Henry Newmans in Deutschland. Ein Beitrag zur NewmanRezeption. (Leutesdorf: Johannes-Verlag. 2004. Pp. 190.)
J. H. Newman’s writings were especially since his conversion to Catholicism
eagerly translated into German. One of the first to take up this task was Gerhard
Schündelen, a pastor from the Niederrhein (1808–1876). Schündelen, who was
ordained a priest in 1832, became a curate (Kaplan) in his native parish, St. Cornelius Dülken (Diocese of Münster), and then served for thirty years as a parishpriest at Spellen. He belongs to a generation of parish-priests who endeavored
to spread in Germany the theological and literary production of the illustrious
convert (list of Newman translations p. 32). Sobotta deals too with later translations of Newman and comes to a positive appreciation of Schündelen’s quality
as a translator. Beyond Newman Schündelen translated Lady Georgiana Fullerton, J. Moore Capes, Orestes A. Brownson, and L. Silliman Ives. VICTOR CONZEMIUS
(Lucerne, Switzerland)

NOTES AND COMMENTS

Association News
The President of the American Catholic Historical Association, Thomas Kselman of the University of Notre Dame, has appointed Maureen C. Miller of the
University of California at Berkeley and Charles J. T. Talar of the University of St.
Thomas School of Theology at St. Mary’s Seminary, Houston, to the Committee
on the John Gilmary Shea Prize, of which Mary Elizabeth Brown of Marymount
Manhattan College is chairman. Dr. Miller will serve in 2005 in place of Augustine Thompson, O.P., of the University of Virginia, who is taking a one-year leave
from the committee and will be its chairman in 2006; Dr. Miller will serve the
other two years of her term in 2007 and 2008. Father Talar has been appointed
for the regular three-year term.
Professor Kselman has also appointed Kenneth Pennington of the Catholic
University of America to the Committee on the John Tracy Ellis Dissertation Award
for a three-year term.
The First Vice-President of the American Catholic Historical Association,
James M. Powell, will be chairman of the Committee on Program for the eightyseventh annual meeting, which will be held in Atlanta on January 4–7, 2007.
Proposals for papers or ( preferably) complete sessions should be submitted
to Professor Powell by January 15, 2006, at the following address: 5100 Highbridge Street, Apt. 18D, Fayetteville, New York 13066; e-mail: mpowell@dreamscape.com. Only members of the Association are eligible to present papers, and
no one who will have presented a paper at the eighty-sixth meeting will be permitted to present one at the eighty-seventh.
The next spring meeting of the Association will take place at the College of
the Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts, on April 7–8, 2006.Those attending
the meeting will be able to view the temporary exhibition entitled “Catholic
Collecting, Catholic Reflection: Objects as a Measure of Reflection on a Catholic
Past and the Construction of Self-Identity,” which focuses on the continuity of
Pre-Reformation art and piety during the “Recusant Era”in England, 1538–1829.
Suggested areas for papers are “English Recusants and the Continent,”“Martyrology and its Traditions, especially regarding the English Martyrs,” “Female
Agency, including the work of Mary Ward and the Institute of the Blessed Virgin
Mary,” and “Early Catholicism in the United States (Colonial Era to the Early
Nineteenth Century).” Proposals of sessions or papers on any aspect of the history of the Catholic Church, however, will be welcome. They should be sent by

564

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565

December 1 to the organizer of the meeting, Virginia C. Raguin of the College
of the Holy Cross, at her home address, 280 Boston Avenue, Medford, Massachusetts 02155; telephone: 781-391-5793; e-mail: vraguin@holycross.edu.
Symposia, Conferences, Workshops, Seminars
To celebrate the sesquicentennial of the consecration of the BasilicaCathedral of St. John the Baptist in St. John’s, a public symposium on the history
of Irish Roman Catholicism in Newfoundland will be held in that city on September 8–10, 2005. At the time of its construction the Cathedral of St. John was
the largest Irish neoclassical cathedral in the world.The Archdiocese of St. John’s
has joined the Canadian Catholic Historical Association in co-hosting a historical symposium that will present illustrated lectures, displays, receptions, plaque
unveilings, and the visits of special guests, local, national, and international
speakers and dignitaries. More information may be found at the symposium
web site: http:www.ucs.mun.ca/~jfitz/sympos2005.html.
Another conference on “Consecrated Women: Towards a History of Women
Religious of Britain and Ireland” will take place at Cambridge, England, on September 16–17. Spanning the history from medieval to modern times, the papers
will focus on these four themes: material culture in the convent, missionary
ministry, oral history methodology, and the authorial voice of consecrated
women. Guest lecturers will be Barbara Mann Wall of Purdue University and
Ann Matthews of the University of Ireland, Maynooth. The program and booking form may be found at the web site www.margaretbeaufort.cam.ac.uk.Other
information may be obtained from Liz Jacobs at the Margaret Beaufort Institute
of Theology, 12 Grange Road, Cambridge, CB3 9DU; telephone: (+44) 01223
741766; e-mail: ecj27@cam.ac.uk.
A weekend workshop in the fall and a weekend faculty seminar in the spring
will be held at the Folger Institute. On November 4–5 a workshop, organized by
Chris R. Kyle of Syracuse University and entitled “Early Modern Terrorism? The
Gunpowder Plot of 1605 and its Aftermath,” will mark the 400th anniversary of
that daring attempt. Nine invited speakers will lead the discussions. Participation will be limited to fifty persons. Applications for admission and grants-in-aid
must be received by September 1.On April 7–8,2006,Sabine McCormack of the
University of Notre Dame will direct a seminar on “Europe and the Americas:
Human and Natural Worlds in the Eyes of Sixteenth-Century Observers.” It will
be focused on the writings of the Jesuit José de Acosta (c. 1540–1600). Applications for admission and grants-in-aid must be received by January 3, 2006. Information on application procedures may be obtained from the Institute’s web
site (www.folger.edu) or by addressing an inquiry to the Institute at 201 East
Capitol Street, S.E., Washington, D.C. 20003; telephone: 202-675-0333; e-mail:
institute@folger.edu.
The Commission internationale d’histoire ecclésiastique comparée, in which
twenty-nine countries are now represented, will hold a conference in Haifa, Is-

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NOTES AND COMMENTS

rael, on August 19–23, 2006, on the theme “Designing the Religious Map of Europe and the Mediterranean.” Michael Goodich, professor of history at the University of Haifa,who is organizing the conference,has explained its intent in the
following sentences: “The continuous movement of ideas, peoples, and land
boundaries has characterized the geography of faiths and the faithful from the
beginning. The fluid interaction of Judaism, Christianity, Islam, paganism, secularism, and other belief systems has engendered a creative, but also conflicted
and competitive relationship. The same religious sites often in turns served as
shrines to different faiths. Relics and pilgrims roamed about from place to
place. Parallel religious ceremonies and rites were adapted to suit different religions. Ethnic and religious groups moved about, sometimes by choice, often by
necessity, bearing their heritage from place to place, but at the same time acquiring new traditions. This conference will bring together scholars from a variety of disciplines to explore in depth the changing boundaries of belief and
practice.” All members of the American Catholic Historical Association, one of
the constitutive societies of the American Commission for Comparative Church
History, are eligible to participate. Anyone wishing to present a paper or organize a session should consult Professor Goodich by January 15, 2006, in care of
the Department of General History, University of Haifa, Mount Carmel, Haifa, Israel 31905; e-mail: emarom@univ.haifa.ac.il; Web site URL: http://hcc.haifa.ac.il/
events/history/Designing‏/
Beatification
The beatification of Mother Marianne Cope, which was to be performed by
John Paul II on May 15 (see ante [April, 2005], p. 402), was carried out on May
14 in St. Peter’s Basilica by Cardinal José Saraiva Martins, C.M.F., Prefect of the
Congregation for the Causes of Saints, who read out at the beginning of the ceremony the Apostolic Letter by which Pope Benedict XVI inscribed her and another Servant of God, Mother Ascensión del Corazón de Jesús, the Spanish
foundress of the Dominican Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Rosary, in the
Book of Beati.
“Righteous among the Nations”
Blessed Elisabetta Hesselblad, foundress of the Order of Our Most Holy Savior of St. Bridget, was proclaimed “Righteous among the Nations” for helping
Jews in Rome during World War II. The medal was given to her successor as
general abbess of the order, Mother Maria Tekla Famiglietti, by Shai Cohen,
counselor of the Israeli Embassy in Rome, on June 3. Elisabetta Hesselblad, a
Swedish Lutheran convert to Catholicism, founded the order in 1911. The residence of the general abbess was St. Bridget’s Convent in the Piazza Farnese in
Rome. When two Jewish families sought refuge in 1943, she hid them in the
convent and saw to it that they not be compelled to attend Christian prayers.
Pope John Paul beatified her on April 9, 2000.

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567

Periodical Literature
“L’Église et la société entre Seine et Rhin (Ve–XVIe siècle)”is the theme of a “Recueil d’études d’histoire du Moyen Âge” published in the Revue du Nord for
July–December, 2004 (Volume 86, Numbers 356–357), to wit, Régine Le Jan,“À la
recherche des élites rurales du début du VIIIe siècle: le «notaire» alsacien
Chrodoin” (pp. 485–498); Bruno Judic, “Quelques réflexions sur la Vita Ermelandi” (pp. 499–510); Jean-Pierre Gerzaguet, “Beaurepaire: de la chapelle (vers
866?) au prieuré canonial masculin (fin XIIIe siècle)” (pp. 511–524); Charles
Mériaux,“Fulbert, évêque de Cambrai et d’Arras (933/934 †956)” (pp. 525–542);
Michel Parisse,“Sigefroid,abbé de Gorze,et le marriage du roi Henri III avec Agnès
de Poitou (1043). Un aspect de la réforme lotharingienne” (pp. 543–566);
Stéphane Lebecq,“La charte de Baudouin V pour Saint-Pierre de Lille (1066): une
traduction commentée” (pp. 567–583); Ludwig Falkenstein,“Lettres et privilèges
pontificaux perdus addressés aux archevêques de Reims (XIe–XIIe siècle)” (pp.
585–603); Roger Berger, “Colligite fragmenta: Deux listes abbatiales revisitées:
Ham-en-Artois et Andres (1079–1352)”(pp.605–614);Robert Fossier,“Remarques
sur la dîme en Picardie (XIe–XIIe siècle)” (pp. 615–631); Benoît-Michel Tock,“Le
chapitre cathedral de Thérouanne et ses chartes au XIIe siècle” (pp. 633–648);
Laurent Morelle, “L’histoire retouchée par le droit: la restitution des dîmes de
Woumen à l’abbaye de Corbie (1188/1189)”(pp. 649–664); Isabelle Guyot-Bachy,
“De quelques fondations féminines de l’ordre de Saint-Victor implantées en Flandre au XIIIe siècle” (pp. 665–680); Olivier Guyotjeannin and Dietrich Lohrmann,
“L’abbé de Saint-Éloi de Noyon en cour de Rome (1256)” (pp. 681–696): Gérard
Sivéry, “La notion économique de l’usure selon Saint Thomas d’Aquin” (pp.
697–708); Hervé Martin, “Le prédicateur polonais Pérégrin d’Opole (vers
1260–vers 1330) évoque la figure de saint Adalbert” (pp. 709–717); Joseph Avril,
“Le rôle des archiprêtres et des doyens dans la préparation,le déroulement et l’application des synodes” (pp. 719–728); Bertrand Schnerb,“Un acte de Jean sans
Peur en faveur des dominicaines de La Thieuloye (1414)” (pp. 729–740); Catherine Vincent, “La vitalité de la communauté paroisiale au XVe siècle à travers
quelques exemples de fondations rouennaises” (pp. 741–756); Élodie LecuppreDesjardin,“Procession et propagande à Valenciennes en 1472. L’intégration des
cultes locaux dans la construction de l’image princière” (pp. 757–770); Monique
Sommé, “La fondation d’une chapellenie au Quesnoy par Isabelle de Portugal
pour Béatrice de Coïmbre, d’après une charte de Philippe le Beau de 1499” (pp.
771–783); Jean-Marie Cauchies, “Servitudes et temps de guerre (1480): NotreDame de Pamele (Maagdendale) et ses fermes d’Ellezelles et de Flobecq” (pp.
785–794); Jean-Marie Duvosquel, “Charles de Croÿ en quête de commentaires
pour ses Albums (1600–1601). À propos de l’origine et de l’histoire de l’abbaye
d’Anchin” (pp. 795–812); and Jean-Loup Lemaître,“Reliques et reliquaires dans le
Hierogazophylacium Belgicum d’Arnould de Raisse” (pp. 813–822).
The first number of Mélanges de Science Religieuse for 2005 ( January–
March, Volume 62) contains articles on “La Charité dans les pays du Nord au
Moyen Age,” as follows: Henri Platelle,“Regards croisés sur la Charité” ( pp. 3–4)

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NOTES AND COMMENTS

and “Fondations et œuvres charitables” ( pp. 5–10); Jean Heuclin,“Le devoir de
Charité durant le haut Moyen Age: les xenodochia” ( pp. 11–24); Denis Clauzel,
“L’investissement caritatif de l’échevinage lillois à la fin du Moyen Age” ( pp.
25–44); and Aurélien Tonnoir,“Le devoir de Charité à Lille selon le registre des
métiers” ( pp. 45–57).
Nine articles on the history of the Jesuits comprise the issue for January–
June, 2005, of the Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu (Volume LXXIV, Fascicle 147): Diogo Ramada Curto, “The Jesuits and Cultural Intermediacy in the
Early Modern World” ( pp. 3–22); Federico Palomo,“La doctrine mise en scène:
catéchèse et missions intérieures dans la péninsule ibérique à l’époque moderne” ( pp. 23–55); Paolo Broggio, “I gesuiti come mediatori nella guerra d’arauco: il padre Luis de Valdivia e il sistema dei Parlamentos de Indios (XVII
secolo)” ( pp. 57–89); André Ferrand de Almeida,“The Organisation of the Jesuit
Mission of Maranhão in the Seventeenth Century: António Vieira and the Shaping of a Missionary Project” ( pp. 91–118); Liam Matthew Brockey,“Between the
Middle Kingdom and the Lord of Heaven: The Jesuits and Confession in Seventeenth-Century China” ( pp. 119–154); Maria Cristina Osswald,“Goa and Jesuit
Cult and Iconography before 1622” ( pp. 155–173); Gauvin Alexander Bailey,
“The Calera de Tango of Chile (1741–67): The Last Great Mission Art Studio of
the Society of Jesus” ( pp. 175–212); Antonella Romano,“Les jésuites entre apostolat missionnaire et activité scientifique (XVIe–XVIIIe siècles)” ( pp. 213–236);
and Joan-Pau Rubiés,“The Concept of Cultural Dialogue and the Jesuit Method
of Accommodation: Between Idolatry and Civilization” ( pp. 237–280).
The Roman Institute of the Görres-Gesellschaft devoted a session on March 4
and 5, 2004, to several aspects of that profound change of bishoprics of the
German-speaking area of Central Europe that has been carried out since the
Enlightenment and the secularization.The papers presented on that occasion have
now been published in Heft 3–4 of Volume 99 (2004) of the Römische Quartalschrift. Following an introduction by Erwin Gatz,“Vom Jurisdiktionsbezirk zur
Ortskirche” (pp. 129–132), are eight articles: Dominik Burkard,“Zum Wandel der
Domkapitel von adeligen Korporationen zum Mitarbeiterstab der Bischöfe” (pp.
133–161); Gisella Fleckenstein,“Zur Entwicklung der sozial-karitativen Kongregationen im Verband der Bistümer”(pp.162–179);Joachim Oepen,“Brunderschaften
im 19. Jahrhundert” (pp. 180–209); Bernhard Schneider, “Das Diözesangesangbuch—eine Klammer für die Bistümer im 19. Jahrhundert?” (pp. 210–228); Felix
Raabe, “Neue diözesane Gremien vom Ende des Zweiten Weltkrieges bis zur
Gegenwart und ihre Beitrag für die Ortskirche” (pp. 229–242); Korbinian Birnbacher, “Stift und Ortskirche in Österreich” (pp. 243–259); Alfred Minke, “Die
katholische deutschsprachige Gemeinschaft in Belgien im Verbund der Ortskirche
Lüttich” (pp. 260–282); and Clemens Brodkorb, “Erfurt und Magdeburg—Von
bischöflichen Verwaltungsbezirken zu Ortskirchen”(pp. 283–306).
The centenary of the birth of Yves-Marie Congar, O.P., is commemorated in
the issue of the Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique for January–March, 2005
(Volume CVI, Number 1) with the following articles: Cardinal Walter Kasper,

NOTES AND COMMENTS

569

“La théologie œcuménique d’Yves-Marie Congar et la situation actuelle de
l’œcuménisme” ( pp. 5–20); Étienne Fouilloux,“Un théologien dans l’Église du
XXe siècle” ( pp. 21–38); Philippe Lécrivain, “Yves-Marie Congar (1964–1995):
une vie toute impregnée par les Écritures” ( pp. 39–50); Bernard Dupuy,“YvesMargie Congar: une vision de l’histoire de l’Église” ( pp. 51–64); André Birmelé,
“Yves-Marie Congar en dialogue avec la Réforme” ( pp. 65–88); and Joseph
Famerée,“Originalité de l’ecclésiologie du Père Congar” ( pp. 89–112).
Five articles in the issue of U.S.Catholic Historian for summer,2004 (Volume
22, Number 3) are grouped under the heading “Ireland and America: Religion,
Politics, and Social Movements”: Lawrence McCaffrey,“Ireland and Irish America: Connections and Disconnections” ( pp. 1–18); John F. Quinn,“‘The Nation’s
Guest’? The Battle between Catholics and Abolitionists to Manage Father
Theobald Mathew’s American Tour, 1849–51” ( pp. 19–40); Cara Delay,“The Devotional Revolution on the Local Level: Parish Life in Post-Famine Ireland” ( pp.
41–60); Deirdre M. Moloney, “Land League Activism in Transnational Perspective” ( pp. 61–74); and Matthew J. O’Brien,“Wartime Revisions of Irish American
Catholicism: Stars, Stripes, and Shamrocks” ( pp. 75–96). Four other articles deal
with “The Significance of Margaret Anna Cusack: The Nun of Kenmare”: Janet
Davis Richardson, C.S.J.P.,“Margaret Anna Cusak, the Nun of Kenmare: A Voice
for Justice in Ireland”( pp.97–112);Rosalie McQuaide,C.S.J.P.,“An Irish Voice for
Justice: The Nun of Kenmare in America” ( pp. 113–137); Thomas L. Schubeck,
S.J.,“Prophet of the Immigrant Church: Later Essays of Margaret Anna Cusack”
( pp. 139–150); and Mildred Gorman, C.S.J.P.A., with Janet Davis Richardson,
C.S.J.P.,“M. F. Cusack in Our Day” ( pp. 151–163).
“The Fiftieth Anniversary of Catholic, Protestant, Jew: Will Herberg’s Book,
Then and Now” is articulated by seven authors in the issue of U.S. Catholic Historian for winter, 2005 (Volume 23, Number 1): Martin E. Marty,“Will Herberg:
Reflections, Personal and Impersonal” ( pp. 1–11); Stephen J. Stein, “Some
Reflections on Will Herberg’s Insights and Oversights” ( pp. 13–23); John
Schmalzbauer,“Reading Herberg from Wheaton: Protestant, Catholic, Jew and
American Evangelicalism” ( pp. 25–39); David J. O’Brien,“Will Herberg: The Religions, or Religion, of America” ( pp. 41–49); Philip Gleason, “Looking Back at
Protestant, Catholic, Jew” ( pp. 51–64); Justin Nordstrom,“Stirring the Melting
Pot: Will Herberg, Paul Blanshard, and America’s Cold War Nativism” ( pp. 63–
77); and Rebecca Kneale Gould, “Protestant, Catholic, Jew at Fifty: An Historian’s Perspective” ( pp. 79–86).

Obituaries
John D. Root died at Northwestern University Hospital in Chicago on September 24, 2004, after surgery. He was born on December 20, 1940, in Michigan
City, Indiana. He received his B.A. degree from the University of Notre Dame in
1962,and an M.A.in history from Indiana University in Bloomington in 1964.He
began his Ph.D. work at Indiana University, but this was interrupted by military

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service from 1966 to 1968. He attained the rank of Captain and received two
bronze stars. He completed his doctorate at Indiana in 1974 with a dissertation
entitled,“Catholics and Science in Mid-Victorian England.”He began teaching in
the Department of Humanities at the Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago
in 1969 as an instructor and became an assistant professor in 1974. In 1980 he
was tenured as an associate professor. In January of 1983 he became chairman
of the Department of Humanities, a position he held until shortly before his retirement due to health reasons.
At Notre Dame John received the O’Brien Prize for the best senior essay in
history. He held a University Fellowship at Indiana University in 1965–1966. He
was the recipient of research grants from the American Philosophical Society
and the National Endowment for the Humanities. He was a member of the
American Catholic Historical Association from 1975 on and a member of its Executive Council in 1985, 1986, and 1987. His other memberships included the
American Historical Association, the Conference on British Studies, the History
of Science Society, the American Society of Church History, and the American
Academy of Religion, where he was a longtime contributor to the Roman
Catholic Modernism Working Group/Seminar.
He published in The Heythrop Journal, Harvard Theological Review, Downside Review, The Journal of British Studies, Victorian Studies, Historical Magazine of the Protestant Episcopal Church, The Clergy Review (England), and
The Catholic Historical Review. Declining health due to multiple sclerosis inhibited publication after 1983, but he continued to contribute many articles to
reference works on Viet Nam and remained an active participant in meetings of
various professional associations with which he retained affiliation.
C. J.T.TALAR
University of St.Thomas
Houston
Raymond H. Schmandt, professor of history in Saint Joseph’s University,
passed away on February 22, 2005, after a prolonged illness. He was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, on September 20, 1925. He received A.B. and A.M. degrees
from Saint Louis University in 1947 and 1949 respectively. He also married in
1949 and eventually had two sons,Christopher and Stephen.He earned another
A.M. degree at the University of Michigan as well as the Ph.D. degree in 1952.
Then he taught at DePaul University (1952–1958) and at Loyola University of
Chicago (1958–1966) before joining the history department at Saint Joseph’s.
There he established a program of medieval and renaissance studies, and in the
1970’s was chairman of the department before retiring in 1995.Throughout his
career he proved himself a prolific scholar, a classroom presence, and a committed activist. He won his first laurels as a church historian as the co-author,
with Thomas P. Neill, of History of the Catholic Church (1957; second edition,
1965). He continued research and writing on church matters with articles pub-

NOTES AND COMMENTS

571

lished in scholarly journals such as Speculum and the Catholic Historical Review, entries in several encyclopedias, and papers presented at conferences
in the United States and Germany. Given his expertise, he was invited to write
numerous book reviews, sharing his understanding of medieval and church
history as conceived by fellow historians. Dr. Schmandt, the undergraduate
teacher, enjoyed a reputation as a respected mentor because he was a classroom natural. In the larger Philadelphia community he made himself completely at home. He organized regional meetings, contributed to a history of the
archdiocese, and served as editor of the Records of the American Catholic Historical Society of Philadelphia for a number of years. He was a member of the
American Catholic Historical Association from 1952 to 1999 and second vicepresident in 1990. His wife, Elizabeth, predeceased him.
DAVID H. BURTON
Saint Joseph’s University
Dom Bennett D. Hill, O.S.B., died on February 26, 2005, in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. He was 70 years old. Father Bennett Hill was born on September 27,
1934, in Baltimore, Maryland, the son of David and Muriel Clarke Hill. With his
family he moved in 1944 to Philadelphia, where he attended public schools. He
was the first African-American to graduate from Princeton University, where he
received his B.A.in history cum laude in 1956.After graduation he taught at the
Putney School in Vermont, but soon enrolled in Harvard, where he received an
M.A. in history in 1958. After a period of study at Cambridge University, he received a Ph.D. in history from Princeton in 1963. In the same year he became
the first African-American to be appointed by the History Department of the
University of Illinois at Urbana–Champaign. He was promoted to the rank of associate professor in 1964 and full professor in 1975. Between 1978 and 1981 he
was Chairman of the History Department at Illinois.
In 1981 Father Hill took a leave of absence from the department to study at
St. Anselm’s Benedictine Abbey in Washington, D.C. There he was ordained in
1985 as a priest and as a monk in the Order of St. Benedict. For the next fifteen
years he taught as a Visiting Professor of History at Georgetown University,
where he offered courses in English Legal and Constitutional History, European
Civilization, World History, Medieval Monasticism, and Medieval Marriage. At
Georgetown Father Hill helped build the program in Medieval Studies and sat
on the program committee for the 1999 Medieval Academy of America meeting
at Georgetown. After retiring from Georgetown, Bennett served the parish of
Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, where he had moved in
order to care for his aging parents.
Father Bennett Hill was a prolific author.Two books on medieval history bear
his name: English Cistercian Monasteries and Their Patrons in the Twelfth
Century (1968) and Church and State in the Middle Ages (1970). His articles appeared in Analecta Cisterciensia, The New Catholic Encyclopedia, The

572

NOTES AND COMMENTS

American Benedictine Review, and The Dictionary of the Middle Ages. He was
a prolific reviewer of books in the field, a contributing editor to The Encyclopedia of World History (2001),a Fellow of the American Council of Learned Societies, and in 1995 Second Vice-President of the American Catholic Historical
Association, of which he was a member from 1976 till his death.
In addition to his scholarship in medieval history, Father Hill was widely
known as co-author of two popular textbooks published by Houghton Mifflin.
Along with John McKay and John Buckler (both also of the University of Illinois
History Department), he wrote A History of Western Society, which is currently
in its eighth edition and is the best-selling textbook in Western Civilization published to date. In 1983 he also co-wrote A History of World Societies, which is
currently in its seventh edition. He was in the process of writing a book on
world slavery at the time of his death.
Father Bennett Hill is survived by his mother, a sister and her husband, three
nieces, three nephews, thirteen great-nieces and nephews; cousins, aunts, and
many devoted friends and colleagues.
JO ANN HOEPPNER MORAN CRUZ
Georgetown University

Joseph Henry Dahmus was born on March 22, 1909, in St. Maurice, Indiana,
and died at his home in State College, Pennsylvania, on March 7, 2005. As a
young man he studied for the priesthood and to that end attended the Pontifical College Josephinum in Columbus, Ohio. He received his B.A. degree in philosophy from the Josephinum in 1930. After leaving the seminary, he graduated
from Saint Louis University in 1932 with an M.A. degree in classics and in 1938
earned a Ph.D. degree in history from the University of Illinois. In 1940 he married Mildred Kling, who survives him. He taught at the College of Mount St.Vincent in New York City from 1939 to 1943, at Aquinas College in Grand Rapids,
Michigan, from 1943 to 1945, and at St. John’s University in Jamaica, New York,
from 1946 to 1947. In the fall of 1947 he began teaching at Pennsylvania State
University, where he continued to teach until his retirement in 1974.
Professor Dahmus was a prolific scholar. Three areas particularly stand out in
his vita: his scholarly work on John Wyclif and his contemporaries, his textbook,
and his series of works on the Middle Ages designed for a general audience, especially his collection of “sevens.” In the first category are the following:“Further
Evidence for the Spelling ‘Wyclyf,’”Speculum,16 (1941),224–225;“Did Wyclyf Recant?” Catholic Historical Review, 29 (1943), 155–158;“Wyclif Was a Negligent
Pluralist,” Speculum, 28 (1953), 378–381;“Richard II and the Church,” Catholic
Historical Review, 39 (1954), 408–433; “John Wyclif and the English Government,” Speculum, 35 (1960), 51–68; The Metropolitan Visitations of William
Courtenay (Illinois, 1950); The Prosecution of John Wyclyf (Yale University
Press, 1952; reprinted as an Archon Book, 1970); William Courtenay, Archbishop
of Canterbury, 1381–1396 (Pennsylvania State University Press, 1966).

NOTES AND COMMENTS

573

In the second category is his textbook, A History of Medieval Civilization
(Odyssey,1964),which contains primary documents at the end of each chapter,
a bit of a novelty at that time. Professor Dahmus was an enthusiastic proponent
of putting primary sources in the hands of students. One of his early articles,“A
Godsend to Ancient and Medieval History,” Social Studies, 47 (1956), 224–228,
points out the opportunity provided to college instructors by the advent of inexpensive paperback copies of ancient and medieval classics.
He strove to make the Middle Ages better known to the general public by
providing popular yet scholarly accounts of the Middle Ages. This category includes: The Middle Ages: A Popular History (Doubleday, 1968; Victor Gollancz,
1969);Seven Medieval Kings (Doubleday,1967;George Allen and Unwin,1968);
Seven Medieval Queens (Doubleday,1972);Seven Medieval Historians (NelsonHall, 1982); and Seven Decisive Battles of the Middle Ages (Nelson-Hall, 1983).
He also compiled the Dictionary of Medieval Civilization (Macmillan,1984),
a two-column, 700-page encyclopedia of the Middle Ages, which was an alternate selection for the History Book Club when it first appeared. London’s History Book Club selected his Popular History as its choice for August, 1969, and
both the Popular History and the Kings were printed in England as well as in
the United States, all indications that an educated, non-academic audience on
the other side of the Atlantic valued his scholarship.
He expanded interest in the Middle Ages at Penn State by organizing the interdisciplinary Medieval Studies major in 1965 and by directing the Medieval
Studies Program from 1965 to 1972. The fact that he wrote three medieval history books after his retirement won him the Penn State Liberal Arts Alumni Society Emeritus Distinction Award in 1987.
He was a pillar of St. John’s Catholic Church in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, and
later of Our Lady of Victory in State College, active in many parish activities and
parish groups including the Knights of Columbus. He even turned his writing
interest to religious themes with The Puzzling Gospels (Thomas More, 1985).
He and his wife encouraged their children to pursue higher education,and all
ten children received at least one degree from Penn State, the largest number of
persons from a single family ever to have graduated from that university; included were ten bachelor, six master, one Ph.D., and two M.D. degrees.
Dr. Dahmus was an active member of the American Catholic Historical Association, holding membership from 1945 to 1993; he served on the Executive
Council from 1959 to 1961,and he was a member of the committee on the John
Gilmary Shea Prize from 1973 to 1975.
Professor Dahmus earned the respect and admiration of family, students, and
colleagues over the space of a long life. They cherish his memory.
JOHN W. DAHMUS
Stephen F. Austin State University
Nacogdoches, Texas

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

GENERAL AND MISCELLANEOUS

Die Katholische Kirche und die Fehler der Vergangenheit. Bruno Forte. Zeitschrift für Missionswissenschaft und Religionswissenschaft, 89 (1, 2005),
3–11.
New-Old Gospels:Rediscovering a Spurious History.Philip Jenkins.The Chesterton Review, XXX (Fall & Winter, 2004), 357–374.
Julianische Berechnung des Osterdatums und Gregorianischer Kalender? Franz
Mali. Ostkirchliche Studien, 54 (Dec., 2004), 309–327.
L’octave de la Trinité du calendrier liégeois. Chronologie et liturgie. Florence
Close. Le Moyen Age, CX (3–4, 2004), 627–641.
L ’Église catholique et le sionisme au temps de Theodor Herzel, 1897–1904. Dominique Trimbur. Mélanges de Science Religieuse, 61 (Oct.–Dec., 2004),
19–34.
Genesi e significato di un concetto agiologico: la virtù eroica nell’età moderna.
Pierluigi Giovannucci. Rivista di Storia della Chiesa in Italia, LVIII ( July–
Dec., 2004), 433–478.

ANCIENT

The Objects of Ignatius’ Wrath and Jewish Angelic Mediators. John W. Marshall.
Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 59 ( Jan., 2005), 1–23.
Pagan Cult to Christian Ritual: The Case of Agia Marina Theseiou. Gerald V.
LaLonde. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies, 45 (1, 2005), 91–117.
Malalas, “Constantius”, and a Church-Inscription from Antioch. David Woods.
Vigiliae Christianae, LIX (1, 2005), 54–62.
Book Six of Augustine’s De musica and the Episcopal Embassies of 408. Erika T.
Hermanowicz. Augustinian Studies, 35 (2, 2004), 165–198.

574

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

575

MEDIEVAL

King Oswald’s Holy Hands: Metonymy and the Making of a Saint in Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. Marianne Malo Chenard. Exemplaria, XVII (Spring,
2005), 33–56.
Istituzioni ecclesiastiche e documentazione nei secoli VIII–XI. Appunti per una
prospettiva. Antonella Ghignoli. Archivio Storico Italiano, CLXII (IV,
2004), 619–665.
The early Irish Stowe Missal’s destination and function. Sven Meeder. Early Medieval Europe, 13 (2, 2005), 179–194.
From Aachen to Al-Andalus: the journey of Deacon Bodo (823–76). Frank Riess.
Early Medieval Europe, 13 (2, 2005), 131–157.
Fraga, de medina musulmana a villa cristiana.Ana Isabel Lapeña Paúl. Revista de
Historia Jerónimo Zurita, No. 76–77 (2001–2002), 241–367.
El monacato andaluz. Su influencia en la España mozárabe (2a parte). Antonio
Larios Ramos. Communio, XXXVII ( July–Dec., 2004), 355–382.
Mainz zwischen Rom und Aachen: Erzbischof Willigis und der Bau des Mainzer
Doms. Josef Heinzelmann. Jahrbuch für westdeutsche Landesgeschichte,
30 (2004), 7–32.
The Liturgical Functions of Consecrated Women in the Byzantine Church.Valerie
A. Karras. Theological Studies, 66 (Mar., 2005), 96–116.
Amitié et rupture de l’amitié. Moines et grands laïcs provençaux au temps de la
crise grégorienne (milieu XIe–XIIe siècle). Florian Mazel. Revue Historique,
129, Tome CCCVII, No. 633 ( Jan., 2005), 53–94.
Builders, Patrons, and Identity: The Domed Basilicas of Sicily and Calabria.
Charles E. Nicklies. Gesta, XLIII (2, 2004), 99–114.
Pour une redéfinition de la croisade. Jean Flori. Cahiers de civilisation médiévale, 47 (Oct.–Dec., 2004), 325–349.
“Quo vadis?” L’Étude de la sculpture romane italienne à l’aube du troisième millénaire. Dorothy F. Glass. Cahiers de civilisation médiévale, 48 ( Jan.–Mar.,
2005), 17–30.
Frowin of Engelberg: His Monastery, His Scriptorium and His Books: Part 1.
Hugh Feiss, O.S.B. American Benedictine Review, 56 (Mar., 2005), 68–99.
Les mosaïques de Santa Maria Nova à Rome au regard du mausolée de SaintJunien. Les liens entre epigraphie et liturgie. Natacha Piano. Cahiers de
civilisation médiévale, 47 (Oct.–Dec., 2004), 351–370.
The Artistic World of the Crusaders and Oriental Christians in the Twelfth and
Thirteenth Centuries. Maria Geogopoulou. Gesta, XLIII (2, 2004), 115–128.

576

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

Il sistema pievano nella diocesi di Pisa dall’età carolingia all’inizio del XIII secolo. Maria Luisa Ceccarelli Lemut and Stefano Sodi. Rivista di Storia della
Chiesa in Italia, LVIII ( July–Dec., 2004), 391–432.
La catastrophe de 1204 et ses conséquences sur l’unité chrétienne. Michel
Stavrou. Istina, XLIX (Oct.–Dec., 2004), 339–360.
Writing beneath the shadow of heresy: the Historia Albigensis of Brother
Pierre des Vaux-de-Cernay. Christopher Kurpiewski. Journal of Medieval
History, 31 (Mar., 2005), 1–27.
The Virgin Mary in Cathar Thought. Sarah Hamilton. Journal of Ecclesiastical
History, 56 ( Jan., 2005), 21–49.
The life and career of Master Wiger of Utrecht (fl. 1209–1237): an early convert
to the Order of Friars Minor. David Ross Winter. Journal of Medieval History, 31 (Mar., 2005), 71–126.
Christian-Islamic Encounters on Thirteenth-Century Ayyubid Metalwork: Local
Culture, Authenticity, and Memory. Eva R. Hoffman. Gesta, XLIII (2, 2004),
129–142.
A Slighted Source: Rehabilitating Irish Bardic Religious Poetry in Historical Discourse. Salvador Ryan. Cambrian Medieval Celtic Studies, 48 (Winter,
2004), 75–99.
The Heretic Saint: Guglielma of Bohemia, Milan, and Brunate. Barbara Newman.
Church History, 74 (Mar., 2005), 1–38.
L’hérétique dans les Cantigas de Santa María d’Alphonse X le sage.Daniel Gregorio. Heresis, No. 41 (Fall, 2004), 55–74.
The Ecclesia Anglicana Goes to War: Prayers, Propaganda, and Conquest during
the Reign of Edward I of England,1272–1307.David S.Bachrach.Albion,36
(Fall, 2004), 393–406.
Seasonal Festivity in Late Medieval England: Some Further Reflections. Ronald
Hutton. English Historical Review, CXX (Feb., 2005), 66–79.
Vision, Devotion, and Difficulty in the Psalter Hours “of Yolande of Soissons.”
Alexa Sand. Art Bulletin, LXXXVII (Mar., 2005), 6–23.
Ramon Llull y el ars conuertendi: antropología, apologética, diálogo y hermenéutica. Jordi Pardo Pastor. Estudios Eclesiásticos, 80 ( Jan.–Mar., 2005),
69–94.
I Celestini e la Basilicata. Il monastero di S. Giacomo di Marsico Nuovo fra istituzioni religiose e comunità urbana (secc. XIV–XVI). Isabella Aurora. Nuova
Rivista Storica, LXXXVIII (Sept.–Dec., 2004), 687–735.
Les moines et le droit. Enquête sur la culture juridique dans les abbayes du
diocèse d’Angers à la fin du Moyen Age. Jean-Michel Matz. Annales de Bretagne et des Pays de l’Ouest, 112 (1, 2005), 85–100.

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

577

(Re)constructing the Medieval Recluse: Performative Acts of Virginity and the
Writings of Julian of Norwich. Sandi J. Hubnik. Historian, 67 (Spring,
2005), 43–61.
Abbot John-Jerome of Prague. Preaching and Reform in Early Fifteenth-Century
Poland. William P. Hyland. Analecta Praemonstratensia, LXXX (1–4, 2004),
5–42.
Herejía y disidencia religiosa en el norte de la península ibérica en el siglo XV:
Alonso de Mella y los herejes de Durango. Ernesto García Fernández. Heresis, No. 41 (Fall, 2004), 75–94.
Excommunication et pratiques eucharistiques à la fin du Moyen Âge en Champagne méridionale. Véronique Beaulande. Revue d’Histoire de l’Église de
France, 90 ( July–Dec., 2004), 411–426.
Un testimone della storia religiosa veneta del XV secolo: Lo Specchio dei religiosi. Giorgia Bisio. Archivum Franciscanum Historicum, 97 ( July–Dec.,
2004), 347–378.
Adler und Bär. Aspekte zur verfassungsmäßigen Stellung der Abtei St. Maximin
im späten Mittelalter und in der frühen Neuzeit. Bertram Resmini. Jahrbuch
für westdeutsche Landesgeschichte, 30 (2004), 33–54.
La reprise par les nestoriens du nom de Chaldéens en 1445. Joseph Yacoub.
Istina, XLIX (Oct.–Dec., 2004), 378–390.
Heresy, Orthodoxy and English Vernacular Religion 1480–1525. Shannon
McSheffrey. Past and Present, No. 186 (Feb., 2005), 47–80.
Documenta vaticana ad franciscales spectantia ann. 1385–1492. Cesare Cenci,
OFM.Archivum Franciscanum Historicum,97 ( July–Dec.,2004),301–346.
«Soy disant prieur et administrateur de l’Hôtel-Dieu d’Angers». Censure et enquête criminelle contre Jean Lebigre, évêque de Toulon (1491–1496).
Frédéric Chaumont. Annales de Bretagne et des Pays de l’Ouest, 112 (1,
2005), 121–145.
Precedentes y orígenes del monasterio Jerónimo de Santa Engracia de Zaragoza.
Javier Cía Blasco. Revista de Historia Jerónimo Zurita, No. 76–77 (2001–
2002), 7–90.

SIXTEENTH CENTURY

The Double Bind of the Protestant Reformation: The Birth of Fundamentalism
and the Necessity of Pluralism. Robert Glenn Howard. Journal of Church
and State, 47 (Winter, 2005), 91–108.
Anthonius Margaritha—Honest Reporter? Michael T. Walton. Sixteenth Century
Journal, XXXVI (Spring, 2005), 129–141.

578

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

“Una compiuta galleria di pitture veneziane”: the church of S. Maria Maggiore in
Venice. Helen Deborah Walberg. Studi Veneziani, XLVII (2004), 259–303.
L’importance de la Confessio de Magdebourg (1550) pour le calvinisme: un
mythe historiographique? Cornel Zwierlein. Bibliothèque d’Humanisme
et Renaissance, LXVII (1, 2005), 27–46.
Heretic Hunting beyond the Seas: John Brett and his Encounter with the Marian
Exiles. Sarah Covington. Albion, 36 (Fall, 2004), 407–429.
Melanchthon’s Doctrinal Last Will and Testament: The Responsiones ad articulos Bavaricae inquisitionis as His Final Confession of Faith. Robert Kolb.
Sixteenth Century Journal, XXXVI (Spring, 2005), 97–114.
The Scottish Witchcraft Act. Julian Goodare. Church History, 74 (Mar., 2005),
39–67.
El expolio de Gonzalo Arias Gallego, Obispo de Cartagena-Murica (1565–1575).
María José Olivares Terol. Carthaginensia, XVII ( July–Dec., 2001), 413–
434.
Batllori in memoriam: Batllori y San Juan de Ribera. José Segui Santos. Miscelánea Comillas, 62 ( July–Dec., 2004), 549–566.
Mercy and Liberality: The Aftermath of the 1569 Northern Rebellion. K. J.
Kesselring. History, 90 (Apr., 2005), 213–235.
“To Oblige My Brethren”: The Reformed Funeral Sermons of Johann Brandmüller. Amy Nelson Burnett. Sixteenth Century Journal, XXXVI (Spring,
2005), 37–54.
Der Freiburger Theologieprofessor Jodocus Lorichius (1540–1612)—Spuren
des Humanismus bei einem konfessionellen Theologen. Karl-Heinz Braun.
Freiburger Diözesan-Archiv, 124 (2004), 41–60.
Seculares aragoneses despés de Trento. La visita pastoral de D. Antonio Chacón
a los Valles del Jalón y Jiloca. Elena Catalán Martínez. Revista de Historia
Jerónimo Zurita, No. 76–77 (2001–2002), 369–397.
Nigromancia y cábala en los procesos de la Inquisición en Sicilia entre los siglos XVI y XVII.Melita Leonardi.Miscelánea Comillas,62 ( July–Dec.,2004),
513–548.
Das Abrücken von der Ekklesiologie des Florentiner Konzils bei der ruthenischen Union von 1595/96 und bei der rumänischen Union von 1701. Ernst
Chr. Suttner. Trierer Theologische Zeitschrift, 114 (1, 2005), 28–45.
The Dominican Missionaries in the Cagayan Valley: Their Missions and Architecture. Manuel M. L. Noche. Philippiniana Sacra, XXXIX (Sept.–Dec.,
2004), 533–578.
Slavery in Medieval Japan.Thomas Nelson. Monumenta Nipponica, 59 (Winter,
2004), 463–492.

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

579

Clément VIII et la fondation de la Congrégation pour la Propagation de la Foi en
1599. Marko Jačov. Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 100 ( Jan.–Mar., 2005),
5–13.

SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES

Catálogo de los comendadores de los primeros conventos sevillanos de la
Merced Descalza según los papeles del P. Pedro de San Cecilio. Jorge Alberto Jordán Fernández. Isidorianum, XIII (26, 2004), 485–513.
Sarpi: a mo’ d’introduzione. Gino Benzoni. Studi Veneziani, XLVII (2004), 141–
163.
Sarpi’s portraits in the Istoria del concilio tridentino. Sheila Das. Studi Veneziani, XLVII (2004), 79–91.
Agrippa D’Aubigné «convertisseur»: la Déclaration du marquis de Bonnivet.
Jean-Raymond Fanlo. Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, LXVII
(1, 2005), 93–102.
Friedrich Förner, the Catholic Reformation, and Witch-Hunting in Bamberg.
William Bradford Smith. Sixteenth Century Journal, XXXVI (Spring, 2005),
115–128.
The Miraculous Body of Evidence: Visionary Experience, Medical Discourse,
and the Inquisition in Seventeenth-Century Spain. Andrew Keitt. Sixteenth
Century Journal, XXXVI (Spring, 2005), 77–96.
The Humbling of ‘High Presumption’:Tobias Crisp Dismantles the Puritan Ordo
Salutis. David Parnham. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 56 ( Jan., 2005),
50–74.
Il Convento dei Carmelitani scalzi di Catanzaro: le origini. Amedeo Toraldo. Rivista di Storia della Chiesa in Italia, LVIII ( July–Dec., 2004), 515–531.
Riflessi economici e implicazioni ideologiche della politica ecclesiastica veneziana nel secondo Settecento. Sergio Perini. Studi Veneziani, XLVII
(2004), 177–234.
Das Directorium Consuetudinarium des Stiftes Schlägl, 1765–1783. Ulrich G.
Leinsle. Analecta Praemonstratensia, LXXX (1–4, 2004), 164–265.
Borderlands of Faith: Reconsidering the Origins of a Ukrainian Tragedy. Barbara
Skinner. Slavic Review, 64 (Spring, 2005), 88–116.
Hospitalidad al peregrino dentro de la diócesis de Zaragoza entre los años de
1771 al 1807. José María Esparza Urroz. Revista de Historia Jerónimo Zurita, No. 76–77 (2001–2002), 91–128.
Kant’s Religion and Prussian Religious Policy. Ian Hunter. Modern Intellectual
History, 2 (Apr., 2005), 1–27.

580

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

Le Comité ecclésiastique de l’Assemblée nationale constituante (1788–1791).
De L’Histoire apologétique par Durand de Maillane à la recherche moderne. Jérôme Tissot-Dupont. Revue d’Histoire de l’Église de France, 90
( July–Dec., 2004), 427–452.

NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES

Foreign Missionaries and Chinese Catholic Communities During the Late Qing
China (1800–1860). Arnulf Camps. Neue Zeitschrift für Missionswissenschaft, 60 (4, 2004), 273–286.
Woman Preachers in the Bible Christian Connexion. Jennifer M. Lloyd. Albion,
36 (Fall, 2004), 451–481.
Rosminis Überlegungen zur Reform von Staat und Gesellschaft. Christine Liermann. Münchener Theologische Zeitschrift, 56 (1, 2005), 77–91.
Fatti storici del Risorgimento ellenico e italiano nelle Memorie autografe di
un soldato pontificio. Dalla pace di Adrianopoli all’Unità d’Italia (1829–
1860). Giuseppe Muscardini. Rassegna Storica del Risorgimento, XCII
( Jan.–Mar., 2005), 42–68.
The Catholic Apostolic Church in British Politics. Markku Ruotsila. Journal of
Ecclesiastical History, 56 ( Jan., 2005), 75–91.
Gladstone,Religious Freedom and Practical Reasoning.David J.Lorenzo.History
of Political Thought, XXVI (Spring, 2005), 90–119.
The Parisian Catholic Press and the February 1848 Revolution. M. Patricia
Dougherty. Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 100 ( Jan.,–Mar., 2005), 83–
123.
La critica di Carlo Maria Curci al riformismo di Vincenzo Gioberti intorno alla
metà del XIX secolo. Paolo Gava. Studia Patavina, LI (Sept.–Dec., 2004),
775–795.
Sepilito-Santo ou Shen-Shen? Le débat sur la terminologie chrétienne utilisée
en Extrême-Orient au 19e siècle.Véronique Delcourt. Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 100 ( Jan.,–Mar., 2005), 15–41.
Rural-Urban Churchgoing in Victorian England. Alasdair Crockett. Rural History, 16 (Apr., 2005), 53–82.
The Case of Connelly v Connelly (1851): The Trials of a Saint? Robert Ombres.
Ecclesiastical Law Journal, No. 36 ( Jan., 2005), 21–31.
Via di Santa Chiara, 42. Les 150 ans du Séminaire français de Rome (1853–
2003). Philippe Levillain et Philippe Boutry. Mémoire Spiritaine, No. 20 (2,
2004), 149–167.

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

581

God’s Villages: Christian Communities in Late-Nineteenth-Century South China.
Joseph Tse-Hei Lee. Journal of Ritual Studies, 19 (1, 2005), 31–46.
La breccia di Porta Pia nella testimonianza inedita di Giorgio Lana, ufficiale pontificio. Daniel Ponziani. Rassegna Storica del Risorgimento, XCII
( Jan.–Mar., 2005), 69–80.
Der Deutsche Verein zur Erforschung Palästinas (1877–2002) und seine Basler
Wurzeln. Ulrich Hübner. Theologische Zeitschrift, 58 (4, 2002), 329–338.
The politics of Protestant street preaching in 1890s Ireland. Matthew Kelly. Historical Journal, 48 (Mar., 2005), 101–125.
“Poor, Penniless and Alone”: Circumstances Surrounding the Death and Burial
of Josephine Bracken in Hong Kong (1902). Macario M. Ofilada. Philippiniana Sacra, XXXIX (Sept.–Dec., 2004), 517–532.
Pio X e lo storico Roger Aubert. Pierantonio Gios. Studia Patavina, LI (Sept.–
Dec., 2004), 811–819.
La visita apostolica alle diocesi di Nepi e Sutri al tempo del vescovo Giuseppe
Bernardo Döbbing OFM (1905). Fortunato Iozzelli, OFM. Archivum Franciscanum Historicum, 97 ( July–Dec., 2004), 379–424.
Un contributo allo studio delle relazioni polacco-vaticane: Adam Stefan Sapieha
alla corte pontificia (1906–11). Jan W. Wos. Studia Patavina, LI
(Sept.–Dec., 2004), 797–809.
Bischof Nikolaj Velimirovid (1880–1956) und seine Berner Zeit im Rahmen der
christkatholisch-serbisch-orthodoxen Beziehungen. Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 95 ( Jan.,–Mar., 2005), 1–33.
Kurt Georg Kiesinger—Kindheit und Jugend im gemischtkonfessionellen und
gemischtdiözesan Umfeld—ein Beitrag zur kirchlichen und politischen Situation im Geburtsjahr des späteren Ministerpräsidenten und Bundeskanzlers (1904). Paul Kopf. Freiburger Diözesan-Archiv, 124 (2004), 139–156.
La construction des lieux de culte sur les anciens bastions de Paris dans l’Entredeux-guerres. Miriam Simon. Revue d’Histoire de l’Eglise de France, 90
( July–Dec., 2004), 453–479.
Abt Heinrich Schuler und das Stift Wilten von 1922 bis 1949. Florian Norbert
Schomers. Analecta Praemonstratensia, LXXX (1–4, 2004), 43–163.
Les catholiques, le cinéma et la conquête des masses: le tournant de la fin des
années 1920. Dimitri Vezyroglou. Revue d’histoire moderne et contemporaine, 51 (Oct.–Dec., 2004), 115–134.
Chesterton and the English Anti-Catholic Tradition. Sheridan Gilley. The Chesterton Review, XXX (Fall & Winter, 2004), 293–311.
Der Beuroner Benediktiner Daniel Feuling (1882–1947). Johannes Schaber,
O.S.B. Freiburger Diözesan-Archiv, 124 (2004), 73–84.

582

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

Arxiu de l’Església catalana durant la Guerra Civil. Alfonso Álvarez Bolado. Estudios Eclesiásticos, 80 ( Jan.–Mar., 2005), 119–173.
Eighteen Benedictine Monks to the Altar? José P. Benabarre. American Benedictine Review, 56 (Mar., 2005), 42–50.
Pius XI. und die “Zeitirrtümer.” Die Initiativen der römischen Inquisition gegen
Rassismus und Nationalismus. Hubert Wolf. Vierteljahrshefte für Zeitgeschichte, 53 ( Jan., 2005), 1–42.
Between Anti-Judaism and Anti-Semitism, Pius XI’s Response to the Nazi Persecution of the Jews: Precursor to Pius XII’s “Silence”? Frank J. Coppa. Journal of Church and State, 47 (Winter, 2005), 63–89.
Zwangsarbeiter in kirchlichen Einrichtungen in der Erzdiözese Freiburg 1939–
1945.Monika Čajkovac.Freiburger Diözesan-Archiv,124 (2004),167–258.
La Spagna franchista vista dalla Chiesa italiana, 1939–1945. Fulvio Giorgi. Rivista
di Storia della Chiesa in Italia, LVIII ( July–Dec., 2004), 479–514.
L’Institut Catholique de Toulouse pendant les années noires (1940–1944).
Marie-Thérèse Duffau. Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique, CV (Oct.–
Dec., 2004), 353–370.
Religion and Nation in Wartime Croatia: Reflections on the Ustasa Policy of
Forced Religious Conversions, 1941–1942. Mark Biondich. Slavonic and
East European Review, 83 ( Jan., 2005), 71–116.
La nascita delle «ACLI» nel dibattito interno alla Democrazia Cristiana. Spunti
per un capitolo di storia della dottrina sociale della Chiesa. Sabino Frigato.
Archivio Teologico Torinese, 10 (2, 2004), 343–362.
L’apparition et le développement de la Semaine de l’Unité dans l’Ouest de le
France. L’exemple de la Bretagne (1945–1959). Dominique Beloeil. Revue
d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 100 ( Jan.–Mar., 2005), 124–144.
The Abolition of Compulsory Church Parades in the British Army. Jeremy A.
Crang. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 56 ( Jan., 2005), 92–106.
La HOAC en Sevilla: una Iglesia que se opuso al franquismo. José Hurtado
Sánchez. Isidorianum, XIII (26, 2004), 515–553.
Peacebuilding and Engaged Citizenship:The Role of the Diocese of Bacolod.Antonio F. Moreno, S.J. Philippine Studies, 52 (2, 2004), 225–254.
Watchman Nee and the Little Flock Movement in Maoist China. Joseph Tse-Hei
Lee. Church History, 74 (Mar., 2005), 68–96.
Evoluzione delle patologie matrimoniali dei cattolici presso i Tribunali Ecclesiastici di Europa 1971–2001. José Ignacio Pérez. Antonianum, LXX ( Jan.–
Mar., 2005), 119–136.

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

583

AMERICAN AND CANADIAN

George Calvert and Newfoundland:“The Sad Face of Winter.” Thomas M. Coakley. Maryland Historical Magazine, 100 (Spring, 2005), 7–28.
“Came Mistress Margaret Brent”: Political Representation, Power, and Authority
in Early Maryland. Nuran Çinlar. Maryland Historical Magazine, 99 (Winter, 2004), 405–428.
Maryland Quakers in the Seventeenth Century. Kenneth L. Carroll. Maryland
Historical Magazine, 100 (Spring, 2005), 81–96.
Indians, Missionaries, and Religious Translation: Creating Wampanoag Christianity in Seventeenth-Century Martha’s Vineyard. David J. Silverman. William
and Mary Quarterly, LXII (Apr., 2005), 141–174.
Reflections on the Church of England in Colonial Virginia. Brent Tarter. Virginia
Magazine of History and Biography, 112 (4, 2004), 338–371.
The Muhlenbergs Become Americans. Paul A. Baglyos. Lutheran Quarterly, XIX
(Spring, 2005), 43–62.
Un défenseur des droits des noirs aux États-Unis:l’abbé Joseph Anciaux.Édouard
Brion. Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 100 ( Jan.–Mar., 2005), 43–81.
À l’ombre des clochers. Le monde catholique et la littérature au Québec
(1918–1939). Cécile Vanderpelen-Diagre. Revue d’Histoire de l’Amérique
Française, 58 (1, 2004), 3–26.
Morale catholique et genre féminin: la sexualité dissertée dans les manuels de
sexualité maritale au Québec, 1930–1960. Isabelle Perreault. Revue d’Histoire de l’Amérique Française, 57 (4, 2004), 567–591.
La Vita religiosa e la crisi dell’eccellenza: il caso delle Francescane negli Stati
Uniti. Giuseppe Buffon OFM. Antonianum, LXX ( Jan.–Mar., 2005), 69–84.
What Would Jesus Do? Sexuality and Salvation in Protestant Evangelical Sex
Manuals, 1950s to the Present. Amy DeRogatis. Church History, 74 (Mar.,
2005), 97–137.
Caritas-Trois-Rivières (1954–1966), ou les difficultés de la charité catholique
à l’époque de l’État providence. Lucia Ferretti. Revue d’Histoire de
l’Amérique Française, 58 (Fall, 2004), 187–216.
The religious Right and the Carter administration. Robert Freedman. Historical
Journal, 48 (Mar., 2005), 231–260.
Jimmy Carter:The Re-emergence of Faith-Based Politics and the Abortion Rights
Issue. Andrew R. Flint and Joy Porter. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 35
(Mar., 2005), 28–51.

584

PERIODICAL LITERATURE

“That’s just the American way”: The Branch Davidian Tragedy and Western Religious History.Todd Kerstetter. Western Historical Quarterly, XXXV (Winter, 2004), 453–471.

LATIN AMERICAN

“Cuando se trata de la civilización del clero”. Principios y motivaciones del debate sobre la Reforma Eclesiástica porteña de 1822. Nancy Calvo. Boletín
del Instituto de Historia Argentina y Americana, 24 (2, 2001), 73–104.

OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED

[Books that were sent to scholars for review but of which no review has been
received are indicated by an asterisk.]
Baker-Smith, Dominic. Collected Works of Erasmus,Volume 64. Expositions of
the Psalms. Concionalis Interpretatio in Psalmum 85. In Psalmum 22 Enarratio Triplex. Consultatio de Bello Turcis Inferendo, et Obiter Enarratus
Psalmus 28. Enarratio Psalmi 33. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
2005. Pp. xvi, 415. $150.00 clothbound.) This is the second of three volumes of Expositions of the Psalms, containing commentaries on Psalms
85, 22, 28, and 33. Erasmus wrote these expositions between August, 1528,
and February, 1531, when he was anxiously concerned with the theological controversies of the Reformation. The expositions reflect his moderate
and conciliatory point of view and his preoccupation with rediscovering
the spiritual dimension in Christian practice through meditation, which
was the ultimate goal of these works.
Barnett, Paul. The Birth of Christianity:The First Twenty Years. [After Jesus,Volume 1.] (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.
2005. Pp. x, 230. $15.00 paperback.)
Bernard of Clairvaux. On Baptism and the Office of Bishops. On the Conduct
and Office of Bishops. On Baptism and Other Questions. Two LetterTreatises.Translated by Pauline Matarasso.Introductions by Martha G.Newman and Emero Stiegman. [Cistercian Fathers Series: Number Sixty-Seven.]
(Kalamazoo, Mich.: Cistercian Publications. 2004. Pp. 199. Paperback.)
*Beshoner, Jeffrey Bruce. Ivan Sergeevich Gagarin: The Search for Orthodox
and Catholic Union. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. 2002.
Pp. xii, 321. $39.95 clothbound.)
Breitman, Richard, Norman J. W. Goda, Timothy Naftali, Robert Wolfe. U. S. Intelligence and the Nazis. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2005. Pp.
xii, 495. $70.00 clothbound; $24.99 paperback.)
Breward, Ian. Reforming the Reformation: Essays in honour of Principal Peter
Matheson. (Melbourne: Australian Scholarly Publishing. 2004. Pp. x, 239.
A$50.00 paperback.) The sixteen articles comprising this book are divided
into three sections. The first,“Biographical,” consists of four articles on the
life of Peter Matheson. Part II,“Reformation Issues,” contains nine articles,
as follows: 5.“The Fifth Medium: Johannes Krüginger’s Biblical Drama of

585

586

OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED

the Rich Man and Lazarus (1534),”by Siegfried Bräuer ( pp. 43–57); 6.“Archbishop Laud: Reforming Liturgy and Strengthening National Unity,” by Ian
Breward ( pp. 58–68); 7.“What did Luther understand by ‘Faith’?” by Denis
Janz ( pp. 69–80); 8.“Argula von Grumbach’s First Two Pamphlets in Manuscript and Printed Versions,” by Dorothee Kommer ( pp. 81–95); 9.“It is the
Saints who Burn the Saints?” by George Newlands ( pp. 96–113); 10.
“Müntzer and the Mustard-Seed,” by Tom Scott ( pp. 114–124); 11. “The
Long Reach of Reformation Irenicism: the Considerationes Modestae et
Pacificae of William Forbes (1585–1634),” by Nick Thompson ( pp.
125–147); 12. “Reformation, Scriptural Precedent and Witchcraft: Johann
Teufel’s Woodcut of The Witch of Endor,” by Charles Zika ( pp. 148–166);
13. “Wrestling for the Credibility of Faith: Fridolin Meyger, circa
1494–1530, between Strasbourg Reformers and Anabaptists,” by Alejandro
Zorzin ( pp. 167–177). The last three articles provide “Antipodean Perspectives, viz., 14.“Peace and Pacifism: New Zealand Presbyterians, 1901–1945,”
by Allan K. Davidson ( pp. 181–196); 15. “Reforming the Reformation
Down-under: The Pivotal, Paradoxical Place of John Dickie,” by Geoff King
( pp. 197–212); and 16.“In Praise of Exile,” by Clive Pearson ( pp. 213–235).
The volume is concluded with Matheson’s “Bibliography.”
Bridge, Steven L. Getting the Gospels: Understanding the New Testament Accounts of Jesus’ Life. (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson Publishers. 2004. Pp.
xviii, 140. $14.95 paperback.)
Caldecott, Stratford. The Power of the Ring: The Spiritual Vision Behind the
Lord of the Rings. (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company. 2005.
Pp. viii, 151. $16.95 paperback.)
Curzel, Emanuele. I canonici e il Capitolo della cattedrale di Trento dal XII al
XV secolo. [Pubblicazioni dell’Istituto di Scienze Religiose in Trento, series
maior,VIII.] (Bologna: Edizioni Dehoniane. 2001. Pp. 802. a51,00.)
Dreyer, Elizabeth A. Passionate Spirituality: Hildegard of Bingen and Hadewijch of Brabant. (New York and Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press. 2005. Pp.
xviii, 180. $16.95 paperback.)
*Eck, Thomas. Die Kreuzfahrerbistümer Beirut und Sidon im 12. und 13.
Jahrhundert auf prosopographischer Grundlage. [Kieler Werkstücke,
Reihe C: Beiträge zur europäischen Geschichte des frühen und hohen Mittelalters,Band 3.] (New York:Peter Lang.2000.Pp.336.$48.95 paperback.)
Erskine, Noel Leo. From Garvey to Marley: Rastafari Theology. (Gainesville:
University Press of Florida. 2005. Pp. xvi, 224. $39.95.)
Feingold, Mordechai. The Newtonian Moment: Isaac Newton and the Making
of Modern Culture. (New York: New York Public Library/Oxford University Press. 2004. Pp. xvi, 218. $45.00 clothbound; $22.50 paperback.)
Freeman, Philip. St. Patrick of Ireland: A Biography. (New York: Simon and
Schuster. 2005. Pp. xx, 216. $13.00 paperback.) Originally published in

OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED

587

2004 and reviewed by Thomas O’Loughlin ante, XC (October, 2004),
741–742.
Gavelli, Mirtide, and Otello Sangiorgi (Eds.). Dai campi di battaglia a Caprera:
Le Osservazioni di Giuseppe Nuvolari alle Memorie del Generale
Garibaldi. (Bologna: Museo civico del Risorgimento. 2005. Pp. 146. a15.00
paperback.)
Greeley, Andrew M. Priests: A Calling in Crisis. (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press. 2005. Pp. xii, 156. $12.00 paperback.)
Grimley, Daniel M., and Julian Rushton (Eds.). The Cambridge Companion to
Elgar. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2004. Pp. xix, 253. $70.00
clothbound; $25.99 paperback.) Two of the sixteen contributions are 7.
“Elgar’s later oratorios: Roman Catholicism, decadence and the Wagnerian
dialectic of shame and grace,”by Byron Adams ( pp. 81–105), and 8.“Roman
Catholicism and being musically English: Elgar’s church and organ music,”
by John Butt ( pp. 106–119).
Halter, Deborah. The Papal “No”: A Comprehensive Guide to the Vatican’s Rejection of Women’s Ordination. (New York: The Crossroad Publishing
Company. 2004. Pp. xviii, 300. $24.95 paperback.)
Harpur, Tom. The Pagan Christ: Recovering the Lost Light. (New York: Walker
and Company. 2004. Pp. ix, 246. $23.00.)
Hughes, Kevin L. Constructing Antichrist: Paul, Biblical Commentary, and the
Development of Doctrine in the Early Middle Ages. (Washington, D.C.:
The Catholic University of America Press. 2005. Pp. xxiv, 278. $59.95.)
Jackson, Peter. The Mongols and the West, 1221–1410. [The Medieval World.]
(Harlowe, England: Pearson Education Limited. 2005. Pp. xxxiv, 414. Paperback.)
Jones, Norman. The English Reformation: Religion and Cultural Adaptation.
(Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers. 2002. Pp. xvi, 253. $31.95 paperback.)
Keller, David G. R. Oasis of Wisdom: The Worlds of the Desert Fathers and
Mothers. (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press. 2005. Pp. xxii, 181. $16.95
paperback.)
Kelly, Henry Ansgar. The Matrimonial Trials of Henry VIII. (Eugene, Ore.: Wipf
and Stock Publishers. 2004. Pp. xvi, 333. Paperback.) Originally published
by Stanford University Press in 1976 and reviewed by Geoffrey de C. Parmiter ante, LXIII (April, 1977), 288–289.
Lee, Hyungdae. The American Intellectual Tradition and Multiculturalism.
[American Studies Monograph Series No. 29.] (Seoul, Korea: American
Studies Institute. 2004. Pp. xii, 228. Paperback.)
Louthan, Howard P., and Randall C. Zachman (Eds.). Conciliation and Confession: The Struggle for Unity in the Age of Reform, 1415–1648. (Notre

588

OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED

Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press. 2004. Pp. vi, 298. $60.00 clothbound; $28.00 paperback.) Contents: Introduction ( pp. 1–12); 1.“New Testament Models of Conflict Resolution: Observations on the Biblical
Argument of Paris Conciliarists during the Great Schism,” by Karlfried
Froehlich ( pp. 13–36); 2.“ ‘Tongues of Fire Confounded’: Greeks and Latins
at the Council of Florence (1438–1439),” by Nicholas Constas ( pp. 37–61);
3.“Erasmus and the Restoration of Unity in the Church,” by Erika Rummel
( pp. 62–72); 4. “The Possibilities and Limits of Conciliation: Philipp
Melanchthon and Interconfessional Dialogue in the Sixteenth Century,” by
Euan Cameron ( pp. 73–88); 5.“The Conciliating Theology of John Calvin:
Dialogue among Friends,” by Randall C. Zachman ( pp. 89–105); 6. “The
Early Church as a Model of Religious Unity in the Sixteenth Century: Georg
Cassander and Georg Witzel,” by Irena Backus ( pp. 106–133); 7.“Conciliation and the French Huguenots,1561–1610,”by Karin Maag ( pp.134–149);
” 8.“The Boundaries of Reformed Irenicism: Royal Hungary and the Transylvanian Principality,”by Graeme Murdock ( pp. 150–172); 9.“Confessional
Accommodation in Early Modern Bohemia: Shifting Relations between
Catholics and Utraquists,” by Zdeněk V. David ( pp.173–198); 10. “From
Rudolfine Prague to Vas Poland: Valerian Magni and the Twilight of Irenicism in Central Europe,” by Howard P. Louthan ( pp. 199–227); 11.“Irenicism in the Confessional Age: The Holy Roman Empire, 1563–1648,” by
Howard Hotson ( pp. 228–285).
Mansfield, Mary C. The Humiliation of Sinners: Public Penance in ThirteenthCentury France. (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press. 2005. Pp.
xvi, 343. $24.95 paperback.) Originally published in 1995 and reviewed by
Thomas Tentler ante, LXXXIII (April, 1997), 309–311.
Monfasani, John. Greeks and Latins in Renaissance Italy: Studies on Humanism and Philosophy in the 15th Century. [Variorum Collected Studies Series.] (Burlington,Vt.: Ashgate. 2004. Pp. xii, 334. $111.95.)
More,Thomas.Poèmes Anglais. Presented by Germain Marc’hadour.Translated by
André Crépin. (Angers: Éditions Moreanum. 2004. Pp. 155.a20 paperback.)
Mungello, D. E. The Great Encounter of China and the West, 1500–1800. Second Edition. [Critical Issues in History.] (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc. 2005. Pp. xvi, 145. $65.00 clothbound; $19.95
paperback.)
Murdock, Graeme. Beyond Calvin: The Intellectual, Political and Cultural
World of Europe’s Reformed Churches, c. 1540–1620. [European History
in Perspective.] (New York:Palgrave Macmillan.2004.Pp.x,191.$26.95 paperback.)
Orta, Andrew. Catechizing Culture: Missionaries, Aymara, and the “New
Evangelization.” (New York: Columbia University Press. 2004. Pp. xvi, 357.
$69.50 clothbound; $26.50 paperback.)

OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED

589

Penrose, Mary E., OSB. Refreshing Water from Ancient Wells: The Wisdom of
Women Mystics. (New York and Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press. 2004. Pp. xii,
171. $14.95 paperback.)
Ruether, Rosemary Radford. Goddesses and the Divine Feminine: A Western
Religious History. (Berkeley: University of California Press. 2005. Pp. x,
381. $27.50. )
Salzman,Michele Renee.The Making of a Christian Aristocracy: Social and Religious Change in the Western Roman Empire. (Cambridge, Mass., and
London: Harvard University Press. 2004. Pp. xiv, 354. $19.95 paperback.)
Originally published in 2002.
Schearer, Susan S. (Ed. and Trans.). Francesco Petrarch: On Religious Leisure
(De Otio Religioso). (New York: Italica Press. 2002. Pp. xxvi, 168. $15.00
paperback.)
Sommerfeldt, John R. Aelred of Rievaulx: Pursuing Perfect Happiness. (New
York and Mahwah, N.J.: The Newman Press. 2005. Pp. xx, 184. $23.95 paperback.)
Starkloff, Carl F., S.J. Common Testimony: Ethnology and Theology in the Customs of Joseph Lafitau.[Studies in Jesuit Topics,Series IV,No.24.] (St.Louis,
Mo.: The Institute of Jesuit Sources. 2002. Pp. xii, 218. $18.95 paperback.)
Steinfels, Margaret O’Brien (Ed.). American Catholics and Civic Engagement:
A Distinctive Voice. Volume 1: American Catholics in the Public Square.
(Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., A Sheed & Ward
Book. 2004. Pp. xx, 293. $75.00 clothbound; $29.95 paperback.)
Taliaferro, Charles, and Alison J. Teply (Eds.). Cambridge Platonist Spirituality.
[The Classics of Western Spirituality.] (New York and Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist
Press. 2004. Pp. xii, 233. $24.95 paperback.)
Tavard, George H. From Bonaventure to the Reformers. [Marquette Studies in
Theology #43.] (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press. 2005. Pp. 142.
$17.00 paperback.)
Thiessen, Gesa Elsbeth (Ed.). Theological Aesthetics: A Reader. (Grand Rapids,
Mich.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company. 2005. Pp. xvi, 400. $35.00
paperback.)
Thorpe, James (Introduction and Commentary). Book of Hours. Illuminations
by Simon Marmion. (San Marino, Calif.: Huntington Library Press. 2005. Pp.
48. $5.95.) Seventeen miniatures from a fifteenth-century Book of Hours
are here reproduced in full color.
De La Torre, Miguel A. Santería:The Beliefs and Rituals of a Growing Religion
in America. (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company. 2004. Pp. xviii, 246. $18.00 paperback.)