GENERAL INDEX Volume 101 (2015) Compiled by Orysia Mack Abbreviations: biog.: biography b.n.: brief notice men.: mentioned obit.: obituary rev.: review Abbondo, Giacomo, Venerable, Servant of God Pope Francis approves decree on attributed miracle, 698 Abbott, Elizabeth Rev. of H. Parish, 349–51 Acquaviva, Claudio, S.J., Superior General men., 658–59 Adamo, Phillip C. New Monks in Old Habits: The Formation of the Caulite Monastic Order, 1193– 1267, rev., 916–17 Aguilar, Mario I. Pope Francis: His Life and Thought, rev., 389–90 Aikenhead, Mary Declared Servant of God, 409 Airhart, Phyllis D. A Church with the Soul of a Nation: Making and Remaking the United Church of Canada, rev., 956–57 Alberts, Tara Conflict and Conversion: Catholicism in Southeast Asia, 1500–1700, rev., 183–84 Albertson, David Mathematical Theologies: Nicholas of Cusa and the Legacy of Thierry of Chartres, rev., 921–22 Allegra, Gabriele M., O.F.M. biog., 969–70 Allen, W. B. Rev. of N. Koester, 954–55 Alliance for Progress men., 809–34 Almond, Philip C. The Devil: A New Biography, rev., 588–89 American Catholic Historical Association Announces 2015 election results, 972 Announces 2015 prizes, 972 Announces 2016 annual meeting, 404 Announces registration for 2016 Atlanta meeting, 972 Honors 2015 Distinguished Award recipients, 189 “In the interest of true history”: The Catholic Historical Review and the American Catholic Historical Association, 1915–69, 219–91 men., 219–91, 835–78 Program for 2016 meeting submitted to AHA, 698 Report of the Committee on the Award for Distinguished Service to Catholic Studies, 408–09 Report of the Committee on the Distinguished Scholarship Award, 407 Report of the Committee on the Distinguished Teaching Award, 408 Report of the Committee on the Harry C. Koenig Book Prize for Catholic Biography, 405 Report of the Committee on the Howard R. Marraro Book Prize, 405 Report of the Committee on the John Gilmary Shea Book Prize, 404 Report of the Committee on the John Tracy Ellis Dissertation Award, 406–07 Report of the Committee on the Peter Guilday Prize, 405 “This Small and Honorable Association”: The American Catholic Historical Association and The Catholic Historical Review, 1969–2015, 835–78 American church history men., 219–91, 835–78 v vi GENERAL INDEX Ames, Christine Caldwell Rev. of M. C. Flannery and K. L. Walter, eds., 630–32 Analecta Cisterciensia Publishes articles on life of Abbot General Polykarp Zakar, 413 Andes, Stephen J. C. The Vatican and Catholic Activism in Mexico and Chile: The Politics of Transnational Catholicism, 1920–1940, rev., 963–64 Anti-Machiavellianism men., 731–53 Antic, Antonio, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia Commemorates outbreak of WWI in 2013 (vol. 23), 192 Arias , Santa, and Raúl Marrero-Fente, eds. Coloniality, Religion, and the Law in the Early Iberian World, rev., 928–29 Asceticism men., 1–27 Association Foyers de Charite men.,189 Athletics men., 794–808 Augustine of Hippo, Bishop and Saint men., 603–04 Augustinian order men., 165–66 Avella, Steven M. obit. of A. M. Butler, 705–06 Bacci, Michele The Many Faces of Christ: Portraying the Holy in the East and West, 300–1300, rev., 592–93 Bacile, Giovanni Declared Servant of God, 409 Bacon, Roger men., 625–27 Bademan, Bryan Rev. of E. A. Clark, 680–81 Bagge, Sverre Cross and Scepter: The Rise of the Scandinavian Kingdoms from the Vikings to the Reformation, rev., 609– 10 Bailey, Michael D. Fearful Spirits, Reasoned Follies: The Boundaries of Superstition in Late Medieval Europe, rev., 635–36 Rev. of J. Machielsen, 941–42 Baldric of Bourgueil men., 619–20 Baldwin, Philip B. Pope Gregory X and the Crusades, rev., 628–29 Barbaric, Petar Declared Servant of God, 409 Barman, Roderick J. Rev. of C. A. Myscofski, 688–89 Bartlett, Robert Why Can the Dead Do Such Great Things? Saints and Worshippers from the Martyrs to the Reformation, rev., 905–07 Basil the Younger, Saint men., 903–04 Baumgartner, Frederic J. Rev. of P. Roberts, 657–58 Beardsall, Sandra Rev. of P. D. Airhart, 956–57 Bell, Dean Philip b.n. of A. Shamir, 403 Bellitto, Christopher M., and Daniel Marcel La Corte obit. of L. B. Pascoe, S.J. Benedict XIV, Pope men., 377–79 Benedict XV, Pope men., 192 Benedictine order men., 189, 190, 942–43 Benedictine Samaritan Sisters of the Cross of Christ men., 409 Bérard, Bishop men., 612–13 Berg, Scott Receives 2015 Peter Guilday Prize, 972 Seeing Prussia through Austrian Eyes: The Kölner Ereignis and Its Significance for Church and State in Central Europe, 48–73 Bergin, Joseph Rev. of D. Julia, 639–40 Bergler, Thomas E. The Juvenilization of American Christianity, rev., 958–59 Bergoglio, Jorge Mario (Pope Francis) biog., 389–90 Bernardini, Domenica Bedonni, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Bernardini, Sergio, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Betteridge, Thomas Writing Faith and Telling Tales: Literature, Politics, and Religion in the Work of Thomas More, rev., 648–50 GENERAL INDEX Biddlecombe, Steven, ed. The Historia Ierosolimitana of Baldric of Bourgueil, rev., 619–20 Bireley, Robert , S.J. Reminiscences and Reflections, 731–53 Rev. of A. Koller, 162–63 Ferdinand II, Counter-Reformation Emperor, 1578–1637, rev., 939–40 Blachnicki, Franciszek, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 972 Blumenthal, Uta-Renate, Anders Winroth, and Peter Landau, eds. Canon Law, Religion, and Politics: Liber Amicorum Robert Somerville, rev., 356– 57 Bonner, Jeremy, Christopher D. Denny, and Mary Beth Fraser Connolly, eds. Empowering the People of God: Catholic Action before and after Vatican II, rev., 686–87 Booker, Courtney M. Past Convictions. The Penance of Louis the Pious and the Decline of the Carolingians, rev., 352–54 Borzaga, Mario, Servant of God Pope Francis approves status of martyr, 698 Boss, Sarah Rev. of G. Waller, 895–97 Boudon, Jacques-Olivier Monseigneur Darboy (1813–1871): Archevêque de Paris entre Pie IX et Napoléon III, rev., 945–46 Boys, Mary C. Redeeming Our Sacred Story: The Death of Jesus and Relations between Jews and Christians, rev., 589–90 Bradley, Linda Arthur Rev. of S. Dwyer-McNulty, 179–80 Brand, Paul Rev. of S. R. Jones and S. Watson, eds., 623–24 Brandmüller, Walter, Cardinal A New Edition of the Medieval Councils, Review Essay, 573–77 Brando, Maria Cristina of the Immaculate Conception, Sister Canonized as saint, 699 Bremer, Thomas, auth.; Eric W. Gritsch, trans. Cross and Kremlin: A Brief History of the Orthodox Church in Russia, rev., 593– 94 Briggs, Charles F. Rev. of S. Vanderputten, ed., 354–55 vii Brockey, Liam Matthew The Visitor: André Palmeiro and the Jesuits in Asia, Forum Essay, 554–72 Brockmann, Thomas and Dieter J. Weiss, eds. Die Konfessionalisierungparadigma: Leistungen, Probleme, Grenzen, rev., 161–62 Brooklyn Borough Hall “Friar Francis: Traces, Words, and Images” Exhibition, 189 Brown, Peter The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity, Forum Essay, 879–88 Brown, Rachel Fulton Rev. of M. Karnes, 360–62 Buc, Philippe Holy War, Martyrdom, and Terror: Christianity, Violence, and the West, ca. 70 C. E. to the Iraq War, rev., 892–94 Buckley, Cornelius Michael, S.J. Stephen Larigaudelle Dubuisson, S.J. (1786–1864), and the Reform of the American Jesuits, rev., 952–53 Bullard, Melissa Meriam Rev. of T. Daniels, ed., 159–60 Burkhart, Louise M., ed.; Louise M. Burkhart, Barry D. Sell, and Stafford Poole, trans. Aztecs on Stage: Religious Theater in Colonial Mexico, rev., 398–99 Burns, Arthur Rev. of J. S. Peart-Binns, 669–70 Burns, J. Patout The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity, Forum Essay, 879–88 Burstein, Miriam Elizabeth Victorian Reformations: Historical Fiction and Religious Controversy, 1820–1900, rev., 668–69 Burton, Janet Rev. of T. Licence, ed., 911–12 Bury St. Edmunds men., 911–12 Bush, Jonathan “Papists” and Prejudice: Popular AntiCatholicism and Anglo-Irish Conflict in the North East of England, 1845–70, rev., 385–86 Bussone, Maria Orsola Declared Servant of God, 409 Butler, Anne M. obit., 705–06 viii GENERAL INDEX Butler, Matthew Rev. of S. J. C. Andes, 963–64 Byrnes, Joseph F. Priests of the French Revolution: Saints and Renegades in a New Political Era, rev., 943–44 Bysted, Ane L. The Crusade Indulgence. Spiritual Rewards and the Theology of Crusades, c. 1095– 1216, rev., 912–13 Byzantium men., 148–49, 599–600, 601–02, 602–03 Cabranes, Amaya, and Thomas Calvo, eds. Franciscanos eminentes en territorios de fronteras, rev., 694–95 Cadeddu, Francesca A Call to Action: John Courtney Murray, S.J., and the Renewal of American Democracy, 530–53 Cahn, Walter Rev. of P. Salonius and A. Worm, eds., 913–15 Calcagno, Raimondo, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Calvin Studies Society Holds Colloquium, “Semper Reformanda: Calvin, Worship, and Reformed Traditions,” 410 Campi, Emidio Presents conference paper, 410 Canadian Catholic Historical Association Publishes articles in Historical Studies on Catholic missions in Canada, 975 Publishes Études d’histoire religieuse, Revue publiée par la Société canadienne d’histoire de l’Église catholique, 975 Canon law men., 411, 703, 754–93 Canons Regular of the Order of the Holy Cross (Crosiers) men., 594–95 Capuchin Poor Clares, Order men., 698 Capuchins men., 189, 317–41, 699 Carile, Maria Cristina Rev. of N. Patricios, 599–600 Carmelite order men., 699 Carrington, Laurel Rev. of S. Ryle, ed; L. Jardine, foreword, 637–39 Carthusian order men., 915–16 Castagna, Luca A Bridge Across the Ocean: The United States and the Holy See between the Two World Wars, rev., 685–86 Cathedral clergy men., 28–47 Catholic Action men., 122–46, 686–87 Catholic Faculty of Vienna University and Benedict XVI School of Philosophy/Theology of Heiligenkreuz Abbey Host conference, “Edith Stein’s Challenge to Current Anthropology,” 702 Catholic higher education men., 463–87 Catholic Historical Review men., 219–91, 835–78 Catholic intellectuals men., 530–53, 671–72 Catholic social teaching men., 74–99 Catholic sports organizations men., 794–808 Catholic University of America Libraries Announce new blog, “Archivist’s Nook,” 701 Caulite order men., 916–17 Cecillon, Jack D. Prayers, Petitions, and Protests: The Catholic Church and the Ontario Schools Crisis in the Windsor Border Region, 1910–1928, rev., 393–95 Celona, Antonio, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 699 Chadwick, Owen obit., 976–78 Chiabò, Myriam, Rocco Ronzani, and Angelo Maria Vitale, eds. Egidio da Viterbo: Cardinale Agostiniano tra Roma e l’Europa del Rinascimento: Atti del Convegno, Viterbo, 22–23 settembre 2012—Roma, 26–28 settembre 2012, rev., 165–66 Chile men., 100–21 Chinese martyrs men., 184–85 Chinnici, Joseph P., O.F.M. To receive Johannes Quasten award, 704 Chodorow, Stanley Rev. of U.-R. Blumenthal, A. Winroth, and P. Landau, eds., 356–57 GENERAL INDEX Christian, William A., Jr. The Visitor: André Palmeiro and the Jesuits in Asia, Forum Essay, 554–72 Christensen, Mark Z. Translated Christianities: Nahuatl and Maya Religious Texts, rev., 692–93 Chrzanowska, Hanna, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 972 Church historians men., 219–91, 835–78 Church-state relations men., 48–73, 100–21 Ciernick, Helen Rev. of T. E. Bergler, 958–59 Cistercian order men., 413, 972 Clark, Anthony E. China’s Saints: Catholic Martyrdom during the Qing (1644–1911), rev., 184–85 Heaven in Conflict: Franciscans and the Boxer Uprising in Shanxi, rev., 968–69 Clark, Elizabeth A. Founding the Fathers: Early Church History and Protestant Professors in Nineteenth-Century America, rev., 680– 81 The Retrospective Self, 1–27 Classen, Albrecht Early History of the Southwest through the Eyes of German-Speaking Jesuit Missionaries: A Transcultural Experience in the Eighteenth Century, rev., 677–78 Cline, Ruth Harwood Rev. of J. Dalarun, introd. and trans., 612–13 Clossey, Luke Rev. of T. Alberts, 183–84 The Visitor: André Palmeiro and the Jesuits in Asia, Forum Essay, 554–72 Conciliorum oecumenicorum generaliumque decreta (COGD) men., 573–87 Cohen, Leonardo The Missionary Strategies of the Jesuits in Ethiopia (1555–1632), rev., 373–74 Colish, Marcia L. Faith, Fiction, and Force in Medieval Baptism Debates, rev., 904–05 College of St. Francis Xavier men., 463–87 Cologne Troubles men., 48–73 Concordats men., 100–21 ix Concordia Historical Institute Quarterly Devotes issue to founding and institutional history of Concordia University Chicago, 413 Congregation of the Handmaids of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus men., 699 Congregation of Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate men., 698 Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer men., 972–73 Congregation of the Pious Society of St. Cajetan men., 699 Congregation of the Reparatrix Sisters of the Holy Face men., 189 Connell, William J. Rev. of G. Murry, 652–54 Connolly, Mary Beth Fraser Women of Faith: The Chicago Sisters of Mercy and the Evolution of a Religious Community, rev., 392–93 Connolly, Michael J. Rev. of W. L. Portier, 684 Connor, Charles P. Rev. of T. H. Sherwood, 395–96 Conrad of Hirsau men., 614–15 Conti, Brooke Confessions of Faith in Early Modern England, rev., 646–47 Conway, John S. Rev. of L. F. Rossi, 950–52 Coppa, Frank J. The Papacy in the Modern World: A Political History, rev., 901–02 Rev. of L. Sandoni, ed.; Daniele Menozzi, introd., 379–80 Córdova, James M. The Art of Professing in Bourbon Mexico: Crowned-Nun Portraits and Reform in the Convent, rev., 399–401 Cormack, Robin Rev. of B. Pentcheva, 601–02 Corteguera, Luis R. Death by Effigy: A Case from the Mexican Inquisition, rev., 689–90 Cotts, John D. Rev. of E. A. Matter and L. Smith, eds., 618–19 Council of Constance men., 633–34, 974–75 Cox, Rory John Wyclif on War and Peace, rev., 632–33 x GENERAL INDEX Creative Minority men., 530–53 Crews, Clyde Receives ACHA 2015 Excellence in Teaching Award, 972 Crosiers (Crutched Friars) men., 594–95 Crossin, John W., O.S.F.S. Rev. of A. Denaux and P. De Mey, with M. Ter Steeg and L. Fuchs, eds., 387–89 Crouch, David Rev. of H. M. Thomas, 611–12 Crousaz, Karine and Daniela Solfaroli Camillocci, eds. Pierre Viret et la diffusion de la Réforme: Pensée, action, contextes religieux, rev., 651–52 Crouse, Eric R. American Christian Support for Israel: Standing with the Chosen People, 1948– 1975, b.n., 971 Crusades men., 912–13 Cummings, Kathleen Sprows Elected ACHA Vice-President, 972 Cummins, Thomas B. F. Rev. of M. Stanfield-Mazzi, 690–91 Cuplinskas, Indre Doing It Rite: Specialized Catholic Action and Liturgical Renewal in Quebec, 1930s–1960s, 122–46 Curley, Augustine, O.S.B. Elected to ACHA Executive Council, 972 Curran, Robert Emmett Papist Devils: Catholics in British America, 1574–1783, rev., 674–75 Rev. of C. M. Buckley, S.J., 952–53 D’Aiuto, Francesco, and Paolo Vian, eds. Guida ai Fondi Manoscritti, Numismatici, a Stampa della Biblioteca Vaticana. Vol. I: Dipartimento Manoscritti; Vol. II: Dipartimento Stampati—Dipartimento del Gabinetto Numismatico—Ufficio della Prefettura; Archivio, rev., 348–49 Dalarun, Jacques, introd. and trans. Vie et miracles de Bérard, évêque de Marses (1080–1130), rev., 612–13 Daniels, Tobias, ed. La congiura dei Pazzi: I documenti del conflitto fra Lorenzo de’ Medici e Sisto IV. Le bolle di scomunica, la “Florentina synodus,” e la “Dissentio” insorta tra la Santità del Papa e i Fiorentini, rev., 159–60 Darboy, Georges, Archbishop biog, 945–46 Daughters of Charity men., 679–80 Daughters of Jesus the Good Shepherd men., 698 Daughters of Mary Immaculate men., 698 Daughters of the Most Holy Immaculate Virgin of Lourdes men., 409 Daughters of the Oratory, Institute of men., 698 Davis, Cyprian, O.S.B. obit., 707–09 De Lucca, Denis Jesuits and Fortifications: The Contribution of the Jesuits to Military Architecture in the Baroque Age, rev., 661–62 De Marco, Vittorio Il Beato P. Gabriele M. Allegra: Dall’Italia alla Cina, rev., 969–70 Dealy, Patrick Francis, S.J. men., 463–87 Del Col, Andrea, (trans. Anne Jacobson Schutte) Rev. of T. F. Mayer, 659–61 Delrio, Martin men., 941–42 Denaux, Adelbert, and Peter De Mey, with Maria Ter Steeg and Lorelei Fuchs, eds. The Ecumenical Legacy of Johannes Cardinal Willebrands (1909–2006), rev., 387–89 Denery, Dallas G., II The Devil Wins: A History of Lying from the Garden of Eden to the Enlightenment, rev., 889–90 Di Mascio, Anthony Rev. of J. D. Cecillon, 393–95 Dictionnaire d’histoire et de géographie ecclésiastiques (DHGE) Announces change of publisher and format for submissions, 700–01 Dissegna, Silvio, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Ditchfield, Simon Rev. of A. M. Johnson and J. A. Maxfield, eds., 368–71 The Visitor: André Palmeiro and the Jesuits in Asia, Forum Essay, 554–72 Dodson, Joel M. Rev. of B. Conti, 646–47 Dominican Sisters of St. Sisto Vecchio men., 699 GENERAL INDEX Donato, Maria Pia, Luc Berlivet, Sara Cabibbo, Raimondo Michetti, and Marilyn Nicoud, eds. Médecine et religion: Collaborations, compétitions, conflits (XII e–XX e siècle), rev., 898–99 Donnelly, John Patrick, S.J. obit. of F. P. Prucha, S.J., 978–80 Dordi, Alessandro Declared Servant of God and martyr, 409 Dossetti, Giuseppe men., 177–79 Dougherty, Jude P. Rev. of K. M. Sayre, 182–83 Drake, Richard Rev. of R. Perin, ed., 171–72 Dries, Angelyn, O.S.F. Rev. of L. Nemer, S.V.D., 595–97 Dubuisson, Stephen Larigaudelle, S.J. biog, 952–53 Duggan, Lawrence G. Rev. of M. L. Colish, 904–05 Duncan, Jason K. Rev. of R. E. Curran, 674–75 Dunn, Dennis J. Rev. of T. Bremer, auth.; E. W. Gritsch, trans., 593–94 Dwyer-McNulty, Sally Common Threads: A Cultural History of Clothing in American Catholicism, rev., 179–80 Dzon, Mary, and Theresa Kenney, eds. The Christ Child in Medieval Culture: Alpha es et O!, rev., 605–06 Earenfight, Theresa Rev. of K. L. Jansen, G. Geltner, and A. E. Lester, eds., 621–23 Early Christian women men., 1–27 Early-Modern Catholicism men., 411, 731–53 Ecclesiastical History Society Holds conference, “Translating Christianity: Word, Image, Sound, and Object in the Circulation of the Sacred from the Birth of Christ to the Present Day,” 191 Edwards, M. J. Rev. of G. S. Smith, 902–03 Eire, Carlos Rev. of E. García Hernán, 636–37 Elliott, Dyan Rev. of M. C. Miller, 908–10 Ellis, John Tracy, Msgr. men., 219–91, 851–53 xi English Ladies, Institute of men., 437–62 English Mission men., 437–62 Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses Publishes articles on “Condemnations: Authors, Texts, Contexts,” 974 Erasmus, Desiderius men., 412, 637–39 Ericksen, Robert P. Complicity in the Holocaust: Churches and Universities in Nazi Germany, rev., 949–50 Erler, Mary C. Reading and Writing during the Dissolution: Monks, Friars, and Nuns 1530–1558, rev., 937–38 Espinosa, David Jesuit Student Groups, the Universidad Iberoamericana, and Political Resistance in Mexico, 1913–1979, rev., 401–02 Esposito, Anna Rev. of B. Wisch and N. Newbigin, 365–66 Faggioli, Massimo Rev. of E. Galavotti, 177–79 Falletti di Barolo, Juliette Colbert de, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Family planning men., 809–34 Farrelly, Maura Jane Rev. of E. R. Schlereth, 675–76 Fascism men., 794–808 Fattori, Maria Teresa, ed. Le fatiche di Benedetto XIV: Origine ed evoluzione dei trattati di Prospero Lambertini (1675–1758), rev., 377–79 Fédon’s Rebellion, Grenada men., 317–341 Feiss, Hugh, O.S.B. Rev. of C. Rudolph, 616–17 Ferdinand II, Emperor biog., 939–40 men., 731–53 Ferriter, Diarmaid Rev. of M. P. McCabe, 174–76 Field, Larry F., trans.; M. Cecilia Gaposchkin and Sean L. Field, eds. and introd. The Sanctity of Louis IX: Early Lives of Saint Louis by Geoffrey of Beaulieu and William of Chartres, rev., 627–28 Fischer, Roman Rev. of J. T. Moger, 641–43 xii GENERAL INDEX Fisher, Eugene J. b.n. of E. R. Crouse, 971 Fisher, James T., and Margaret M. McGuinness, eds. The Catholic Studies Reader, rev., 390–91 Fizzard, Allison D. Rev. of J. M. Hayden, 594–95 Flanagan, Marie Therese Rev. of K. Herbers, F. López Alsina, and F. Engel, eds., 153–54 Flanagin, David Zachariah Rev. of D. Albertson, 921–22 Flannery, Mary C., and Katie L. Walter, eds. The Culture of Inquisition in Medieval England, rev., 630–32 Floyd, Emily Receives 2014 John Tracy Ellis Dissertation Award, 406–07 Focolare Movement men., 409 Folci, Giovanni, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 972 Foley, Patrick Missionary Bishop: Jean-Marie Odin in Galveston and New Orleans, rev., 391– 92 Fondazione per le Scienze Religiose “Giovanni XXIII” Announces research fellowships, 699 Ford, Caroline Rev. of C. E. Harrison, 666–68 Foresti, Elisa Baldo Declared Servant of God, 409 Forster, Marc R. Rev. of T. Brockmann and D. J. Weiss, eds., 161–62 Francis, Pope biog., 389–90 men., viii–ix (vol. 101, no. 3), 189, 409, 698–99, 972–73 Franciscan order men., 409, 411, 694–95, 698, 968–69, 969–70 Frederic of Berga (Martí Tarrés Puigpelat), O.F.M. Cap., Servant of God, and Companions Pope Francis approves status of martyr, 699 Freiburg, Kirchengeschichtlicher Verein für das Erzbistum Celebrates sesquicentennial with conference, 190 Frey, Maria Benedetta Giuseppa (Ersilia Penelope Frey), Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 972 Frick, David Kith, Kin and Neighbors: Communities and Confessions in Seventeenth-Century Wilno, rev., 662–63 Friesen, Abraham Rev. of H. Lutterbach, 372–73 Fund for the Republic men., 530–53 Gagarin, Grigory, Prince men., 292–316 Galavotti, Enrico Il Professorino: Giuseppe Dossetti tra crisi del fascismo e costruzione della democrazia, 1940–1948, rev., 177–79 Galileo Galilei men., 754–93 Gameson, Richard Rev. of F. van Liere, 150–51 García Hernán, Enrique Ignacio de Loyola, rev., 636–37 The Visitor: André Palmeiro and the Jesuits in Asia, Forum Essay, 554–72 Gardner, Julian The Roman Crucible: The Artistic Patronage of the Papacy, 1198–1304, rev., 624–25 Garneau, James F. Rev. of C. E. Seales, 682–83 Garrett, David T. Rev. of E. B. Soule, 961–62 Gattola, Francesco Declared Servant of God, 409 Geoffrey of Beaulieu men., 627–28 Gerald of Aurillac men., 610–11 German Historical Institute and the Facoltà Valdese di Teologia Cosponsor conference, “Martin Luther and the Indulgence Controversy in 1517,” 410–11 German History Features articles on “Religious Emotions in German History,” 192 Ghattas, Marie-Alphonsine Danil (Mariam Sultaneh), Sister Canonized as saint, 699 Giles of Viterbo men., 165–66 Giraud, Cédric, ed. Notre-Dame de Paris, 1163–2013: Actes du colloque scientifique tenu au Collège des Bernardins, à Paris, du 12 au 15 décembre 2012, rev., 894–95 GENERAL INDEX Gitman, Esther Archbishop Alojzije Stepinac of Zagreb and the Rescue of Jews, 1941–45, 488–529 Gollar, C. Walker obit. of C. Davis, O.S.B. Gonfalone, Confraternity men., 365–66 Gonzaga, Massimiliano Buzzaccarini men., 665–66 Graham, Billy men., 395–96 Gratian men., 754–93 Gregori, Ildebrando, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Gregory of Nazianzus men., 598–99 Gregory X, Pope men., 628–29 Gregory XVI, Pope men., 292–316 Grendler, Paul F. Rev. of S. Mostaccio, auth.; C. Copeland, trans., 658–59 Gribble, Richard, C.S.C. Rev. of L. Castagna, 685–86 Griener, George, S.J. Rev. of G. Klapczynski, 169–70 Gritsch, Eric W. Martin Luther’s Anti-Semitism: Against His Better Judgment, rev., 929– 33 Grossi, Vincenzo, Blessed Pope Francis approves decree on attributed miracle, 698 Gunnell, Kristine Daughters of Charity: Women, Religious Mission, and Hospital Care in Los Angeles, 1856–1927, rev., 679–80 Haile, Getatchew Rev. of L. Cohen, 373–74 Handmaids of the Reparation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus men., 699 Harrington, Joel Rev. of A. G. Roeber, 166–67 Harris, A. Katie Elected to ACHA Executive Council, 972 Harrison, Carol E. Romantic Catholics: France’s Postrevolutionary Generation in Search of a Modern Faith, rev., 666–68 xiii Harrison, Regina Sin and Confession in Colonial Peru: Spanish-Quechua Penitential Texts, 1560–1650, rev., 397–98 Hartch, Todd The Rebirth of Latin American Christianity, rev., 964–65 Hastings, Derek Rev. of R. P. Ericksen, 949–50 Hayden, J. Michael Crutched Friars and Croisiers: The Canons Regular of the Order of the Holy Cross in England and France, rev., 594–95 The Catholicisms of Coutances: Varieties of Religion in Early Modern France, 1350–1789, rev., 158–59 Haydn, Joseph biog., 663–65 Head, Thomas F. obit., 710–12 Healy-Varley, Margaret Rev. of D. Turner, 629–30 Hendrix, Scott H., and Susan C. KarantNunn, eds. Masculinity in the Reformation Era, rev., 366–68 Henson, Herbert Hensley biog., 669–70 Herbers, Klaus, Fernando López Alsina, and Frank Engel, eds. Das begrenzte Papsttum: Spielräume päpstlichen Handels. Legaten—delegierte Richter—Grenzen, rev., 153–54 Heresy men., 754–93, 902–03 Herklotz, Ingo Rev. of P. Stenzig, ed., 925–28 Herrick, Samantha Kahn Rev. of M. Kuefler, 610–11 Heynickx, Rajesh, and Jan De Maeyer, eds. The Maritain Factor: Taking Religion into Interwar Modernism, rev., 672–74 Hildegard of Bingen, Doctor of the Church men., 192 Historiography men., 1–27, 671–72 Hittinger, John P. Rev. of R. Heynickx and J. De Maeyer, eds., 672–74 Hoegaerts, Josephine Rev. of T. Van Osselaer, 382–83 Hofer, Andrew, O.P. Christ in the Life and Teaching of Gregory of Nazianzus, rev., 598–99 Holocaust men., 488–529 xiv GENERAL INDEX Holy See, attitude toward sport men., 794–808 Horden, Peregrine Rev. of M. P. Donato, L. Berlivet, S. Cabibbo, R. Michetti, and M. Nicoud, eds., 898–99 Hornbeck, J. Patrick II Rev. of R. Cox, 632–33 Hostia, Maria Rafaela Jesús, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Householder, Michael Rev. of S. Arias and R. Marrero-Fente, eds., 928–29 Howard, Peter Creating Magnificence in Renaissance Florence, rev., 924–25 Howe, Daniel Walker Rev. of S. Longenecker, 955–56 Hudock, Barry Struggle, Condemnation, Vindication: John Courtney Murray’s Journey Toward Vatican II, rev., 959–60 Hugh of Fleury men., 359–60 Hugh of St. Victor men., 616–17 Huguccio men., 754–93 Humble Servants of the Lord men., 409 Hungary men., 342–47 Ignatius of Loyola, Saint biog., 636–37 Immigration men., 74–99 Inquisition men., 630–32, 689–90, 754–93 Institute of English Ladies men., 437–62 Interwar period men., 192–93, 672–74, 685–86, 794– 808, 962 Itinerarium, Revista Quadrimestral de Cultura Publishes issue commemorating Frey Manuel do Cenáculo, 975–76 Publishes papers from 2014 national seminar in Lisbon, 411 Izbicki, Thomas M. Rev. of L. Schmugge, ed., 640–41 Rev. of M. Chiabò, R. Ronzani, and A. M. Vitale, eds., 165–66 Jacobs, Curtis Revolutionary Priest: Pascal Mardel of Grenada, 317–341 Jamroziak, Emilia and Karen Stöber, eds. Monasteries on the Borders of Medieval Europe: Conflict and Cultural Interaction, rev., 615–16 Jansen, Katherine L., G. Geltner, and Anne E. Lester, eds. Center and Periphery: Studies on Power in the Medieval World in Honor of William Chester Jordan, rev., 621–23 Jensen, Robin M. Rev. of M. Bacci, 592–93 Jesuit court confessors men., 731–53 Jesuit Sources, Institute of Receives ACHA 2014 Distinguished Service Award, 189, 408–09 Jewish-Catholic relations men., 488–529, 946–47, 950–52 Jewish-Christian relations men., 929–33, 949–50, 971 Jodock, Darrell Rev. of C. E. Thirlway, trans.; C. J. T. Talar, ed. and introd., 383–85 John XXIII, Pope and Saint men., 176–77, 900–01 Johnson, Anna Marie, and John A. Maxfield, eds. The Reformation as Christianization. Essays on Scott Hendrix’s Christianization Thesis, rev., 368–71 Johnson, Timothy J. Rev. of A. Power, 625–27 Jones, E. A. Rev. of M. C. Erler, 937–38 Jones, Greta Rev. of D. O’Leary, 380–82 Jones, Sarah Rees, and Sethina Watson, eds. Christians and Jews in Angevin England: The York Massacre of 1190, Narratives and Contexts, rev., 623–24 Jordan, William Chester men., 621–23 Joskowicz, Ari The Modernity of Others: Jewish AntiCatholicism in Germany and France, rev., 946–47 Juana Inés de la Cruz, Sor, O.S.H. men., 693–94 Juana of the Cross, (Juana Vazquez Gutierrez), Abbess Declared Servant of God, 409 Julia, Dominique Réforme catholique, religion des prêtres et “foi des simples.” Études d’anthropologie religieuse (XVI e–XVIII e siècles), rev., 639–40 GENERAL INDEX Julian of Norwich men., 629–30 Kaeuper, Richard W. Holy Warriors: The Religious Ideology of Chivalry, rev., 155–57 Karnes, Michelle Imagination, Meditation, and Cognition in the Middle Ages, rev., 360–62 Kartaloff, Kiril Plamen La sollecitudine ecclesiale di Monsignor Roncalli in Bulgaria (1925–1934). Studio storico-diplomatico alla luce delle nuove fonti archivistiche, rev., 176–77 Kaufman, Peter Iver Rev. of T. Betteridge, 648–50 Kaufmann, Thomas Rev. of E. W. Gritsch, 929–33 Keeley, Theresa Medellín Is “Fantastic”: Drafts of the 1969 Rockefeller Report on the Catholic Church, 809–34 Kelly, Henry Ansgar Judicial Torture in Canon Law and Church Tribunals: From Gratian to Galileo, 754–93 Ker, Ian Rev. of L. Poston, 947–49 Kerr, Julie Rev. of E. Jamroziak and K. Stöber, eds., 615–16 Khater, Akram Fouad Embracing the Divine: Passion and Politics in the Christian Middle East, rev., 374– 76 Kieckhefer, Richard Rev. of S. A. Mitchell, 358–59 King, Gail Rev. of A. E. Clark, 184–85 Rev. of V. De Marco, 969–70 Klapczynski, Gregor Katholischer Historismus? Zum historischen Denken in der deutschsprachigen Kirchengeschichte um 1900. Heinrich Schrörs—Albert Ehrhard—Joseph Schnitzer, rev., 169–70 Klimó, Árpád von The Cardinal Mindszenty Files from American Archives, Review Essay, 342–47 Knights of St. John (Order of St. John) men., 665–66 Koester, Nancy Harriet Beecher Stowe: A Spiritual Life, rev., 954–55 Kolb, Robert Rev. of T. Krogh, 168–69 xv Koller, Alexander Imperator et Pontifex: Forschungen zum Verhältnis von Kaiserhof und römischer Kurie im Zeitalter der Konfessionalisierung (1555–1648), rev., 162–63 Kölner Wirren men., 48–73 Kolowrat-Liebsteinsky, Franz Anton von men., 48–73 Kolrud, Kristine, and Marina Prusac, eds. Iconoclasm from Antiquity to Modernity, rev., 590–92 Korten, Christopher Against the Grain: Pope Gregory XVI’s Optimism Toward Russia in His Censure of Polish Clerics in 1831, 292–316 Kovesi, Catherine Rev. of P. Howard, 924–25 Krieg, Robert A. Rev. of M. C. Boys, 589–90 Krogh, Tyge A Lutheran Plague. Murdering to Die in the Eighteenth Century, rev., 168–69 Krueger, Derek Liturgical Subjects: Christian Ritual, Biblical Narrative, and the Formation of the Self in Byzantium, rev., 602–03 Kselman, Thomas Obit of O. Chadwick, 976–78 Rev. of J.-O. Boudon, 945–46 Kuefler, Mathew The Making and Unmaking of a Saint: Hagiography and Memory in the Cult of Gerald of Aurillac, rev., 610–11 Kuehn, Thomas Rev. of E. W. Mellyn, 654–55 Kupke, Raymond J. Rev. of M. P. Riccards, 899–901 Labor, Marcello, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 699 Lacey, Brian Medieval and Monastic Derry: Sixth Century to 1600, rev., 606–07 Larkin, Brian Rev. of J. M. Córdova, 399–401 Larkin, Emmet Papers donated to John J. Burns Library of Special Collections at Boston College, 190 Larkin, John, S.J. men., 463–87 Late-Ancient Christianity men., 1-27 xvi GENERAL INDEX Lavrin, Asunción Rev. of A. Cabranes and T. Calvo, eds., 694–95 To receive AHA Award for Scholarly Distinction at 2016 annual meeting, 976 Leeuwen, Richard van Rev. of A. F. Khater, 374–76 Lenain, Philippe Histoire littéraire des bénédictins de SaintMaur, Tome Quatrième (1724–1787), rev., 942–43 Lester, Anne E. Rev. of R. Bartlett, 905–07 Leumas, Emilie Gagnet Rev. of P. Foley, 391–92 Libanius of Antioch men., 351–52 Liberation theology men., 809–34 Licence, Tom, ed. Bury St Edmunds and the Norman Conquest, rev., 911–12 Lida, Miranda Rev. of M. I. Aguilar, 389–90 Liere, Frans van An Introduction to the Medieval Bible, rev., 150–51 Lierheimer, Linda Rev. of B. R. Woshinsky, 376–77 Lippold, Anette Receives 2014 Peter Guilday Prize, 405–06 Liturgical Renewal men., 122–46 Lixey, Kevin, L.C.; Christoph Hübenthal; Dietmar Mieth; and Norbert Müller, eds. Sport & Christianity. A Sign of the Times in the Light of Faith, rev., 597–98 Lloyd, Joan Barclay Rev. of J. Gardner, 624–25 Loisy, Alfred men., 383–85 Longenecker, Steve Gettysburg Religion: Refinement, Diversity, and Race in the Antebellum and Civil War Border North, rev., 955–56 Loose, Sarah Rev. of S. Marino, 897–98 Lorman, Thomas Anselm Rev. of J. M. Ward, 172–74 Losito, Antoino Filomeno Maria, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 972–73 Louis IX, King and Saint men., 627-28 Louis the Pious, King men., 352–54 Louthan, Howard Rev. of R. Bireley, 939–40 Lower, Michael Rev. of L. F. Field, trans.; M. C. Gaposchkin and S. L. Field, eds. and introd., 627–28 Luther, Martin men., 410–11, 929–33 Lutterbach, Hubertus Das Täuferreich von Münster: Ursprünge und Merkmale eines religiösen Aufbruchs, rev., 372–73 Machielsen, Jan Martin Delrio: Demonology and Scholarship in the Counter-Reformation, rev., 941–42 MacIntyre, Bruce C. Rev. of C. R. Stapert, 663–65 Magdalino, Paul Rev. of D. F. Sullivan, A.-M. Talbot, and S. McGrath, eds. and trans., 903–04 Maier, Christoph T. Rev. of P. B. Baldwin, 628–29 Mallia-Milanes, Victor, ed. Al Servizio della Repubblica di Venezia: Le lettere di Massimiliano Buzzaccarini Gonzaga, Commendatore di Malta, inviate alla Magistratura dei Cinque Savii alla Mercanzia 1754–1776, rev., 665–66 Mance, Jeanne, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Mancia, Lauren Rev. of P. C. Adamo, 916–17 Marcone, Giuseppe Ramiro, Benedictine Abbot and Apostolic Visitor to Croatia men., 488–529 Mardel, Pascal men., 317–41 Maria Antonia of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, (Rachele Lalia), Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 699 Maria of the Immaculate Conception, (Maria Isabel Salvat Romero), Blessed Pope Francis approves decree on attributed miracle, 698 Marino, Salvatore Ospedali e città nel Regno di Napoli: le Annunziate: istituzioni, archivi, e fonti (secc. XIV–XIX), rev., 897–98 GENERAL INDEX Maritain, Jacques men., 672–74 Maritain, Raïsa men., 672–74 Marquina, Valentin Palencia, Servant of God Pope Francis approves status of martyr, 972 Marr, Scott M. Rev. of J. M. Hayden, 158–59 Marriage men., 48–73, 166–67, 364–65 Marsden, George M. The Twilight of the American Enlightenment: The 1950s and the Crisis of Liberal Belief, rev., 960–61 Martín del Campo, Juan Manuel, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 973 Martin, Dennis D. Rev. of S. J. Molvarec and T. Gaens, eds., 915–16 Martin, Louis, and Marie-Azelie Guérin Martin Pope Francis recognizes attributed miracle, 409 Mary of Jesus Crucified (Mariam Baouardy), Sister Canonized as saint, 699 Matovina, Timothy Rev. of T. Hartch, 964–65 Matter, E. Ann, and Lesley Smith, eds. From Knowledge to Beatitude: St. Victor, Twelfth-Century Schools, and Beyond: Essays in Honor of Grover A. Zinn, Jr., rev., 618–19 Maurey, Yossi Rev. of C. Giraud, ed., 894–95 Maximilian of Bavaria men., 731–53 Mayer, Thomas F., ed. Reforming Reformation, rev., 933–35 The Roman Inquisition on the Stage of Italy, c. 1590–1640, rev., 659–61 Mayr-Harting, Henry Religion, Politics and Society in Britain, 1066–1272, rev., 355–56 Mazzon, Antonella Rev. of K. Salonen and J. Hanska, eds., 922–24 McCabe, M. P. For God and Ireland: The Fight for Moral Superiority in Ireland 1922–1932, rev., 174–76 McCarthy, T. J. H. Rev. of M. Rainini, O.P., 614–15 xvii McClain, Lisa On a Mission: Priests, Jesuits, “Jesuitresses,” and Catholic Missionary Efforts in Tudor-Stuart England, 437–62 McCoog, Thomas M. “And Touching our Society”: Fashioning Jesuit Identity in Elizabethan England, rev., 655–57 McEnroe, Sean F. Rev. of M. Z. Christensen, 692–93 McGinn, Bernard The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity, Forum Essay, 879–88 McGinness, Frederick J. Rev. of S. Tutino, 935–37 McGuinness, Margaret M. Rev. of T. F. Rzeznik, 180–81 McManus, Brendan Rev. of B. E. Whalen, 152–53 Mears, Natalie and Alec Ryrie, eds. Worship and the Parish Church in Early Modern Britain, rev., 647–48 Mears, Natalie, Alasdair Raffe, Stephen Taylor, and Philip Williamson, eds., with Lucy Bates National Prayers: Special Worship since the Reformation. Vol. I: Special Prayers, Fasts and Thanksgivings in the British Isles, 1533–1688, rev., 650–51 Mecham, June L., auth.; Alison I. Beach, Constance H. Berman, and Lisa M. Bitel, eds. Sacred Communities, Shared Devotions: Gender, Material Culture, and Monasticism in Late Medieval Germany, rev., 919–21 Medellín conference, 1968 men., 809–34 Medici, Cosimo de’ men., 652–54 Medici, Lorenzo de’ men., 159–60 Medieval Canon Law, International Congress of Meeting XV in 2016 announced, 411, 703 Mégier, Elisabeth Christliche Weltgeschichte im 12. Jahrhundert: Themen, Variationen und Kontraste. Untersuchungen zu Hugo von Fleury, Ordericus Vitalis, und Otto von Freising, rev., 359–60 Mélanges de l’École française de Rome, Moyen Âge Publishes articles on late-medieval and early modern travel to Rome, 411–12 xviii GENERAL INDEX Melion, Walter Receives ACHA 2015 Lifetime Distinguished Scholarship Award, 972 Melloni, Alberto Essence, Concept, or History: What Is at Stake in a Dispute over the COGD, Review Essay, 578–87 Mellyn, Elizabeth W. Mad Tuscans and Their Families: A History of Mental Disorder in Early Modern Italy, rev., 654–55 Mentzer, Raymond A. Les registres des consistoires des Églises Réformées de France—XVI e–XVII e siècles: Un inventaire, rev., 643–44 Rev. of G. Treasure, 938–39 Rev. of K. Crousaz and D. S. Camillocci, eds., 651–52 Mercieca, Simon Rev. of V. Mallia-Milanes, ed., 665–66 Messis, Charis Rev. of B. Neil and L. Garland, eds., 148–49 Metternich, Klemens Wenzel von men., 48–73 Michelangelo men., 644–46 Miethke, Jürgen Presents conference paper, 410 Migration men., 74–99 Miller, Maureen C. Clothing the Clergy: Virtue and Power in Medieval Europe, c. 800–1200, rev., 908–10 Receives 2015 John Gilmary Shea Book Prize for Clothing the Clergy, 972 Mindszenty, József, Cardinal men., 342–47 Minnich, Nelson H. Letter from the CHR editor to Pope Francis regarding the journal’s centennial issue 2 and response of the Holy Father, Vol. 101, No.3, viii–ix Missions men., 891–92, 966–68 Mitchell, Stephen A. Witchcraft and Magic in the Nordic Middle Ages, rev., 358–59 Mitsiou, Ekaterini, Mihailo Popović, Johannes Preiser-Kapeller, and Alexandru Simon, eds. Emperor Sigismund and the Orthodox World, rev., 362–64 Moger, Jourden Travis Priestly Resistance to the Early Reformation in Germany, rev., 641–43 Molvarec, Stephen J. and Tom Gaens, eds. A Fish Out of Water? From Contemplative Solitude to Carthusian Involvement in Pastoral Care and Reform Activity, rev., 915–16 Moore, Rebecca Women in Christian Traditions, rev., 890–91 More, Thomas, Saint men., 648–50 Moroncini, Ambra Rev. of S. R. Prodan, 644–46 Morrissey, Thomas E. Conciliarism and Church Law in the Fifteenth Century: Studies on Franciscus Zabarella and the Council of Constance, rev., 633–34 Mostaccio, Silvia, auth.; Clare Copeland, trans. Early Modern Jesuits between Obedience and Conscience during the Generalate of Claudio Acquaviva (1581–1615), rev., 658–59 Münchener Theologische Zeitschrift Publishes articles on “Zur Geschichte der Katholisch-Theologischen Fakultät der Universität München und des Herzoglichen Georgianums im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert,” 412 Murray, John Courtney biog., 959–60 men., 530–53 Murre-van den Berg, Heleen Rev. of E. H. Tejirian and R. S. Simon, 891–92 Murry, Gregory The Medicean Succession: Monarchy and Sacral Politics in Duke Cosimo de’ Medici’s Florence, rev., 652–54 Myscofski, Carole A. Amazons, Wives, Nuns, and Witches: Women and the Catholic Church in Colonial Brazil, 1500–1822, rev., 688– 89 Mystical body men., 122–46 Napoleon III men., 945–46 National Museum of Women in the Arts “Picturing Mary: Woman, Mother, Idea,” Exhibition, 190 National Socialism men., 794–808 GENERAL INDEX Neil, Bronwen and Lynda Garland, eds. Questions of Gender in Byzantine Society, rev., 148–49 Nelson, Sioban Rev. of K. Gunnell, 679–80 Nemer, Lawrence, S.V.D. The Great Age of Mission: Some Historical Studies in Mission History, rev., 595– 97 Nesselrath, Heinz-Günther Libanios: Zeuge einer schwindenden Welt, rev., 351–52 Nevin, Thomas R. The Last Years of Saint Thérèse: Doubt and Darkness: 1895–1897, rev., 386–87 Newberry Library of Chicago Offering research fellowships and workshops, 973 New College Conference on Medieval and Renaissance Studies 2016 meeting announced, 703 Newman, John Henry, Cardinal and Blessed men., 947–49 Nicholas I, Tsar of Russia men., 292–316 Nicholas of Cusa men., 921–22 Nicholson, Helen J. Rev. of S. Biddlecombe, ed., 619–20 Noble, Thomas F. X. Rev. of J. F. Romano, 907–08 Noguez, Xavier (Merideth Paxton, trans.) Rev. of L. M. Burkhart, ed.; L. M. Burkhart, B. D. Sell, and S. Poole, trans., 398–99 Notre Dame Cathedral men., 894–95 O’Brien, Thomas Rev. of B. Hudock, 959–60 O’Leary, Don Irish Catholicism and Science: From “Godless Colleges” to the “Celtic Tiger,” rev., 380–82 O’Malley, John W. Receives 2014 John Gilmary Shea Book Prize for Trent: What Happened at the Council, 404 O’Toole, James M. Rev. of M. D. Popowski, 396–97 Oblates of Mary Immaculate men., 699 Ocker, Christopher Rev. of T. F. Mayer, ed., 933–35 Odin, Jean-Marie biog., 391–92 xix Ökumenische Rundschau Publishes articles by Old Catholics commemorating sixth centenary of the Council of Constance, 974–75 Old Catholics men., 974–75 Olsen, Glenn W. Rev. of K. Schmiesing, ed., 147–48 Rev. of P. Buc, 892–94 Opera Divina Prigioniero men., 972 Oratory of St. Philip Neri men., 189 Orderic Vitalis men., 359–60 Ostkirchliche Studien Publishes articles from Ostkirchenkundliches Symposium 2013, 704 Ottman, Jennifer R. Rev. of William of Auvergne, auth.; R. J. Teske, trans., introd., and annot., 154–55 Otto, Bishop of Freising men., 359–60 Palmeiro, André, Jesuit Missionary men., 554–72 Papacy men., 153–54, 899–901, 901–02 Papal diplomacy men., 292–316 Parish, Helen Clerical Celibacy in the West: c. 1100– 1700, rev., 349–51 Pascoe, Louis B., S.J. obit., 712–14 Patricios, Nicholas N. The Sacred Architecture of Byzantium: Art, Liturgy and Symbolism in Early Christian Churches, rev., 599– 600 Patronage men., 28–47, 100–21 Paz, Denis Rev. of M. E. Burstein, 668–69 Peale, Norman Vincent men., 395–96 Peart-Binns, John S. Herbert Hensley Henson: A Biography, rev., 669–70 Pedersen, Frederik Rev. of L. Schmugge; A. A. Larson, trans., 364–65 Pentcheva, Bissera V. The Sensual Icon: Space, Ritual, and the Senses in Byzantium, rev., 601–02 xx GENERAL INDEX Perin, Raffaella, ed. Chiesa cattolica e minoranze in Italia nella prima metà del novecento: Il caso Veneto a confronto, rev., 171–72 Perspectives in Religious Studies Dedicates issue to “Bill J. Leonard, Historian of Baptists and American Religion: A Legacy of Conscience and Dissent,” 976 Peyton, Patrick, C.S.C., Servant of God Positio for canonization submitted, 698 Pittrof, Thomas, and Walter Schmitz, eds. Freie Anerkennung übergeschichtlicher Bindungen. Katholische Geschichtswahrnehmung im deutschsprachigen Raum des 20. Jahrhunderts. Beiträge des Dresdener Kolloquiums vom 10. bis 13. Mai 2007, rev., 671–72 Pius IX, Pope men., 379–80, 945–46 Pius X, Pope men., 192 Pius XI, Pope men., 100–21 Pius XII, Pope biog., 405 Pontifical Committee of Historical Sciences Announces 2016 conference marking 500th anniversary of Fifth Lateran Council, 703 Holds conference commemorating 800th anniversary of Fourth Lateran Council, 702 Popowski, Mark D. The Rise and Fall of Triumph: The History of a Radical Roman Catholic Magazine, 1966–1976, rev., 396–97 Portier, William L. Divided Friends: Portraits of the Roman Catholic Modernist Crisis in the United States, rev., 684 Receives ACHA 2015 Distinguished Scholar Award, 189, 407 Rev. of J. T. Fisher and M. M. McGuinness, eds., 390–91 Portnykh, Valentin L. Rev. of A. L. Bysted, 912–13 Portugal men., 28–47 Postlewate, Laurie Rev. of M. Dzon and Theresa Kenney, eds., 605–06 Poston, Lawrence The Antagonist Principle: John Henry Newman and the Paradox of Personality, rev., 947–49 Postorino, Maria Brigida, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Power, Amanda Roger Bacon and the Defence of Christendom, rev., 625–27 Prague National Gallery “‘Open the Gates of Paradise’: The Benedictines in the Heart of Europe, 800–1300,” Exhibition, 190 Prodan, Sarah Rolfe Michelangelo’s Christian Mysticism: Spirituality, Poetry and Art in Sixteenth-Century Italy, rev., 644–46 Professional associations men., 219–91, 835–78 Prucha, Francis Paul, S.J. Obit., 978–80 Puertas, Alberto Quiroga Rev. of H.-G. Nesselrath, 351–52 Quebec men., 122–46, 701–02 Race Debate Papers published from 2014 conference on “Roman Curia and Race Debate in the Interwar Period: State and Perspectives of Research,” 192–93 Radding, Charles Rev. of E. Mégier, 359–60 Radding, Cynthia Rev. of A. Classen, 677–78 Rev. of R. H. Thompson, ed.; W. S. Zimmt and R. E. Dahlquist, trans., 677–78 Rainini, Marco, O.P. Corrado de Hirsau e il «Dialogus de cruce». Per la recostruzione del profilo di un autore monastico del XII secolo, rev., 614–15 Ramos, Gabriela Rev. of R. Harrison, 397–98 Ranft, Patricia Rev. of R. Moore, 890–91 Raphael, Renée Rev. of D. De Lucca, 661–62 Redemptorists men., 189 Refugees men., 74–99 Religious Sisters of Charity of Ireland men., 409 Remensnyder, Amy G. obit. of T. F. Head, 710–12 Revue de l’histoire des religions Publishes articles on “Geneva, Refuge and Migrations (16th–17th Centuries),” 703 GENERAL INDEX Publishes articles on “Miraculous Images of the Virgin in the Early Modern Period, from Local Devotion to Universal Worship,” 975 Reynolds, Daniel Rev. of K. Kolrud and M. Prusac, eds., 590–92 Ribuffo, Leo P. Rev. of G. M. Marsden, 960–61 Riccards, Michael P. Faith and Leadership: The Papacy and the Roman Catholic Church, rev., 899–901 Rio, Alice Rev. of C. M. Booker, 352–54 Rist, John Rev. of P. Wynn, 603–04 Ritchey, Sara Holy Matter: Changing Perceptions of the Material World in Late Medieval Christianity, rev., 620–21 Rivera Ramirez, José, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 973 Rivista di Storia e Letteratura Religiosa Publishes articles on influence of Erasmus, 412 Roberson, Ronald G., C.S.P. Rev. of K. P. Kartaloff, 176–77 Roberts, Penny Peace and Authority during the French Religious Wars, c. 1560–1600, rev., 657–58 Robin, Marthe, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Robinson, Mary Kathryn Rev. of P. Lenain, 942–43 Rockefeller Report on the Americas men., 809–34 Roeber, A. G. Hopes for Better Spouses: Protestant Marriage and Church Renewal in Early Modern Europe, India, and North America, rev., 166–67 Romano, John F. Liturgy and Society in Early Medieval Rome, rev., 907–08 Romero Galdamez, Oscar Arnulfo, Archbishop Declared Blessed, 699 Declared Servant of God and martyr, 409 Rosenbach Museum and Library “Catholics in the New World: A Selection of 16th–18th Century Texts,” Exhibition, 973 xxi Rossi, Lauren Faulkner Wehrmacht Priests: Catholicism and the Nazi War of Annihilation, rev., 950–52 Rowland, Ingrid Rev. of F. D’Aiuto and P. Vian, eds., 348–49 Rudolph, Conrad The Mystic Ark: Hugh of Saint Victor, Art, and Thought in the Twelfth Century, rev., 616–17 Ruff, Mark Edward Rev. of T. Pittrof and W. Schmitz, eds., 671–72 Russell, Jeffrey Burton Rev. of D. G. Denery II, 889–90 Rev. of P. C. Almond, 588–89 Russian diplomacy men., 292–316 Russian Orthodox Church men., 593–94 Ryan, Dennis R. Receives ACHA 2015 Distinguished Teaching Award, 189, 408 Ryan, Michael A. Rev. of M. D. Bailey, 635–36 Ryle, Stephen, ed; Lisa Jardine, foreword Erasmus and the Renaissance Republic of Letters, rev., 637–39 Rzeznik, Thomas F. Church and Estate: Religion and Wealth in Industrial-Era Philadelphia, rev., 180– 81 Safran, Linda The Medieval Salento: Art and Identity in Southern Italy, rev., 910–11 Saka, Mark Saad For God and Revolution: Priest, Peasant, and Agrarian Socialism in the Mexican Huasteca, rev., 696–97 Salamon, Maciej Rev. of E. Mitsiou, M. Popović, J. Preiser-Kapeller, and A. Simon, eds., 362–64 Salinas Araneda, Carlos The Efforts to Sign a Concordat between Chile and the Holy See in 1928, 100–21 Salonen, Kirsi, and Jussi Hanska, eds. Entering a Clerical Career at the Roman Curia, 1458–1471, rev., 922–24 Salonius, Pippa and Andrea Worm, eds. The Tree: Symbol, Allegory, and Device in Medieval Art and Thought, rev., 913–15 Sánchez, José M. Rev. of F. J. Coppa, 901–02 xxii GENERAL INDEX Sandoni, Luca, ed.; Daniele Menozzi, introd. Il Sillabo di Pio IX, rev., 379–80 Sangalli Istituto Announces publication prizes, 973–74 Holds seminar, “Miracoli di carta e miracoli dipinti: testi e immagini del prodogioso in Italia tra XIV e XVII secolo,” 410 Sangha, Laura Rev. of N. Mears and A. Ryrie, eds., 647–48 Saucier, Catherine A Paradise of Priests: Singing the Civic and Episcopal Hagiography of Medieval Liège, rev., 607–09 Sauter, Pelagio, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Sawyer, Peter Rev. of S. Bagge, 609–10 Sayre, Kenneth M. Adventures in Philosophy at Notre Dame, rev., 182–83 Schachter, Marc Rev. of S. H. Hendrix and S. C. KarantNunn, eds., 366–68 Schleif, Corine Rev. of J. L. Mecham, auth.; A. I. Beach, C. H. Berman, and L. M. Bitel, eds., 919–21 Schlereth, Eric R. An Age of Infidels: The Politics of Religious Controversy in the Early United States, rev., 675–76 Schmiesing, Kevin, ed. Catholicism and Historical Narrative: A Catholic Engagement with Historical Scholarship, rev., 147–48 Schmugge, Ludwig, ed. Repertorium poenitentiariae Germanicum: Verzeichnis der in den Supplikenregistern der Pönitentiarie Kirchen, und Orte des Deutschen Reiches, rev., 640–41 Schmugge, Ludwig, auth., and Atria A. Larson, trans. Marriage on Trial: Late Medieval German Couples at the Papal Court, rev., 364– 65 Schuh, Maximilian Aneignungen des Humanismus: Institutionelle und individuelle Praktiken an der Universität Ingolstadt im 15. Jahrhundert, rev., 164–65 Schwartz, Aloysius Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 409 Sciurba, Salvatore, O.C.D. Rev. of T. R. Nevin, 386–87 Scotto, Davide Rev. of A. M. Wolf, 917–19 Scribner, Todd J. “Not Because They Are Catholic, but Because We Are Catholic”: The Bishops’ Engagement with the Migration Issue in TwentiethCentury America, 74–99 Seales, Chad E. The Secular Spectacle: Performing Religion in a Southern Town, rev., 682–83 Second Vatican Council men., 413, 686–87 Segesser, Philipp men., 677–78 Segovia, Juan de men., 917–19 Serra, Junípero, Friar Canonized as saint, 699 Shamir, Avner Christian Conceptions of Jewish Books: The Pfefferkorn Affair, b.n., 403 Sharkey, Heather J. Rev. of C. Verdeil, ed., 966–68 Sheen, Fulton J., Archbishop and Venerable men., 395–96 Sheffler, David Rev. of M. Schuh, 164–65 Shelley, Thomas J. Rev. of J. Bonner, C. D. Denny, and M. B. F. Connolly, eds., 686–87 Ubiquitously Useful: The Jesuit College of St. Francis Xavier, New York City, 1847–1912, 463–87 Sherman, John W. Rev. of D. E. Espinosa, 401–02 Sherwood, Timothy H. The Rhetorical Leadership of Fulton J. Sheen, Norman Vincent Peale, and Billy Graham in the Age of Extremes, rev., 395–96 Sigismund of Luxemburg men., 362–64 Silva, Hugo Ribeiro da Patron-Client Relations and Ecclesiastical Careers: Securing a Place in a Portuguese Cathedral (1564–1640), 28–47 Sisters of Mercy, Chicago Regional Community men., 392–93 Sisters of the Company of the Cross men., 698 GENERAL INDEX Sisters of the Most Holy Rosary of Jerusalem men., 699 Sixtus IV, Pope men., 159–60 Smith, Geoffrey S. Guilt by Association: Heresy Catalogues in Early Christianity, rev., 902–03 Smith, Katherine Allen Rev. of R. W. Kaeuper, 155–57 Smith, Kathryn A. The Taymouth Hours: Stories and the Construction of the Self in Late Medieval England, rev., 157–58 Société canadienne d’histoire de l’Église catholique Annual Congress 2015 on theme of culture and Catholicism in Quebec, 701–02 Holds eighty-second congress, 411 Society for Italian Historical Studies and American Historical Association Announce 2016 meeting, 411 Society of Jesus men., 189, 373–74, 401–02, 409, 412, 437–62, 463–87, 530–53, 554–72, 655–57, 658–59, 661–62, 677–78, 677–78, 731–53, 952–53 Society of the Paris Foreign Missions men., 699 Somerville, Robert men., 356–57 Soule, Emily Berquist The Bishop’s Utopia: Envisioning Improvement in Colonial Peru, rev., 961–62 Southeastern Council of Latin American Studies (SECOLAS) Announces 2016 annual meeting “Legacies of Transcultural Encounters in the Americas,” 974 Southern Historical Association Solicits submissions for 2015 John L. Snell Memorial Prize in European History, 700 Stacey, Robin Chapman Rev. of B. Lacey, 606–07 Stanfield-Mazzi, Maya Object and Apparition: Envisioning the Christian Divine in the Colonial Andes, rev., 690–91 Stapert, Calvin R. Playing before the Lord: The Life and Work of Joseph Haydn, rev., 663–65 Stein, Edith (St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, O.C.D.) Collected Works published, 190 men., 702 xxiii Stenzig, Philipp, ed. Botschafterzeremoniell am Papsthof der Renaissance. Der Tractatus de oratoribus des Paris de Grassi, Teil 1 und 2, rev., 925–28 Stephan Kuttner Institute of Medieval Canon Law, Yale University Celebrates opening with conference, “New and Old in Medieval Law,” 190 Holds conference, “Rem non novam nec insolitam aggredimur,” 410 Stepinac, Alojzije, Cardinal and Blessed men., 488–529 Stolzenberg, Daniel Receives 2014 Howard R. Marraro Book Prize for Egyptian Oedipus: Athanasius Kirchner and the Secrets of Antiquity, 405 Storin, Bradley K. Rev. of A. Hofer, O.P., 598–99 Stowe, Harriet Beecher biog., 954–55 Strazalkowski, Zbigniew, O.F.M. Conv. Declared Servant of God and martyr, 409 Studies, An Irish Quarterly Review Publishes articles on “The Jesuits in Ireland Before and After the Suppression,” 412 Subercaseaux, Francisco Maximiano Valdez, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Sullivan, Denis F., Alice-Mary Talbot, and Stamatina McGrath, eds. and trans. The Life of Saint Basil the Younger. Critical Edition and Annotated Translation of the Moscow Version, rev., 903–04 Sullivan, John, Servant of God Pope Francis authorizes decree on heroic virtue, 189 Sutcliffe, Adam Rev. of A. Joskowicz, 946–47 Swanson, R. N. Rev. of S. Ritchey, 620–21 Syllabus of Errors men., 379–80 Szczęsna, Klara Ludwika, Venerable Servant of God Pope Francis approves attributed miracle, 699 Takala-Roszczenko, Maria Rev. of D. Frick, 662–63 xxiv GENERAL INDEX Tejirian, Eleanor H. and Reeva Spector Simon Conflict, Conquest, and Conversion: Two Thousand Years of Christian Missions in the Middle East, rev., 891–92 Teología, Revista de la Facultad de Teología de la Pontificia Universidad Católica Argentina Dedicates April 2014 issue to Hildegard of Bingen, 192 Texas Catholic Historical Society Makes journal Catholic Southwest available online, 973 Thao Tiên, Joseph and Companions Pope Francis approves status of martyr, 699 Thelen, Emily Rev. of C. Saucier, 607–09 Thérèse of Lisieux, Saint men., 386–87, 409 Thierry of Chartres men., 921–22 Thirlway, Christine E., trans., and C. J. T. Talar, ed. and introd. Prelude to the Modernist Crisis: The “Firmin” Articles of Alfred Loisy, rev., 383–85 Thirty Years’ War men., 731–53 Thoj Xyooj, Paul, Servant of God Pope Francis approves status of martyr, 698 Thomas, George Antony The Politics and Poetics of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, rev., 693–94 Thomas, Hugh M. Rev. of H. Mayr-Harting, 355–56 The Secular Clergy in England, 1066– 1216, rev., 611–12 Thompson, Raymond H., ed.; Werner S. Zimmt and Robert E. Dahlquist, trans. A Jesuit Missionary in Eighteenth-Century Sonora: The Family Correspondence of Philipp Segesser, rev., 677–78 Thomson, Guy Rev. of M. S. Saka, 696–97 Tierney, Brian Rev. of T. E. Morrissey, 633–34 Tiso, Jozef biog., 172–74 Tomaszek, Michal, O.F.M. Conv. Declared Servant of God and martyr, 409 Torture men., 754–93 Trappist monks of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Monastery Receive ACHA 2015 Distinguished Service to Catholic Studies Award, 972 Treasure, Geoffrey The Huguenots, rev., 938–39 Trisco, Robert F., men., 219–91 Tronzo, William Rev. of L. Safran, 910–11 Turner, Denys Julian of Norwich, Theologian, rev., 629– 30 Tutino, Stefania Shadows of Doubt: Language and Truth in Post-Reformation Catholic Culture, rev., 935–37 Ucerler, M. Antoni J., S.J. The Visitor: André Palmeiro and the Jesuits in Asia, Forum Essay, 554–72 U.S. Catholic Historian Publishes articles on “After Vatican II: Implementation and Responses,” 413 Publishes articles on “World War II and the Post-War Era,” 704 Publishes papers from conference “The Lived History of Vatican II,” 976 Publishes summer 2014 issue on “Sanctity in America,” 193 University of Copenhagen 2016 RefoRC Conference announced, 703 University of Maryland–College Park Holds medieval and early modern conference, “(Re)Building Networks,” 411 University of Tartu, Estonia Holds conference, “Old Religion and New Spirituality: Continuity and Changes in the Background of Secularization,” 191 University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, School of Continuing Education Holds “Attending to Early Modern Women” conference, “It’s About Time,” 411 Ursulines of St. Benedict men., 972 United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) men., 74–99 Van Osselaer, Tine The Pious Sex: Catholic Constructions of Masculinity and Femininity in Belgium, c. 1800–1940, rev., 382–83 GENERAL INDEX Vanderputten, Steven, ed. Understanding Monastic Practices of Oral Communication (Western Europe, Tenth-Thirteenth Centuries), rev., 354– 55 Vanysacker, Dries The Attitude of the Holy See toward Sport during the Interwar Period (1919–39), 794–808 Rev. of K. Lixey, L.C.; C. Hübenthal; D. Mieth; and N. Müller, eds., 597– 98 Rev. of M. T. Fattori, ed., 377–79 Vatican Archives men., 794–808 Vatican Library men., 348–49 Vaughn, J. Barry Bishops, Bourbons, and Big Mules: A History of the Episcopal Church in Alabama, rev., 681–82 Ventresca, Robert Receives 2014 Harry C. Koenig Book Prize for Catholic Biography for Soldier for Christ: The Life of Pius XII, 405 Vera, Jacinto, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 698 Verdeil, Chantal, ed. Missions chrétiennes en terre d’islam, Moyen-Orient, Afrique du Nord (XVII e–XX e siècles): Anthologie de textes missionnaires, rev., 966–68 Vicenta of the Passion of the Lord, (Jadwiga Jaroszewska) Declared Servant of God, 409 Victor, Francesco de Paola, Venerable, Servant of God Pope Francis approves attributed miracle, 699 Victor, School of Saint men., 618–19 Villa-Flores, Javier Rev. of L. R. Corteguera, 689–90 Villeneuve, Jeanne-Emilie de, Sister Canonized as saint, 699 Viret, Pierre men., 651–52 Waller, Gary Walsingham and the English Imagination, rev., 895–97 Walsham, Alexandra Rev. of T. M. McCoog, 655–57 Walsingham men., 895–97 xxv Ward, James Mace Priest, Politician, Collaborator: Jozef Tiso and the Making of Fascist Slovakia, rev., 172–74 Ward, Mary men., 437–62 Watt, Jeffrey R. Rev. of R. A. Mentzer, 643–44 Weiss, Judith Rev. of K. A. Smith, 157–58 Wessel, Susan The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity, Forum Essay, 879–88 Whalen, Brett Edward The Medieval Papacy, rev., 152–53 White, Joseph M. “In the interest of true history”: The Catholic Historical Review and the American Catholic Historical Association, 1915–69, 219–91 “This Small and Honorable Association”: The American Catholic Historical Association and The Catholic Historical Review, 1969–2015, 835–78 Willebrands, Johannes, Cardinal men., 387–89 William of Auvergne, auth.; Roland J. Teske, trans., introd., and annot. On Morals, rev., 154–55 William of Chartres men., 627–28 Wisch, Barbara, and Nerida Newbigin Acting on Faith: The Confraternity of the Gonfalone in Renaissance Rome, rev., 365–66 Witczak, Michael G. Rev. of N. Mears, A. Raffe, S. Taylor, and P. Williamson, eds., with L. Bates, 650–51 Woell, Edward J. Rev. of J. F. Byrnes, 943–44 Wolf, Anne Marie Juan de Segovia and the Fight for Peace: Christians and Muslims in the Fifteenth Century, rev., 917–19 Wolffe, John Rev. of J. Bush, 385–86 Women’s history men., 1–27, 190, 376–77, 392–93, 411, 437–62, 679–80, 688–89, 890–91 Wood, Ian The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity, Forum Essay, 879–88 xxvi GENERAL INDEX Woods, James M. Rev. of J. B. Vaughn, 681–82 Woshinsky, Barbara R. Imagining Women’s Conventual Spaces in France, 1600–1800: The Cloister Disclosed, rev., 376–77 Wray, Grady C. Rev. of G. A. Thomas, 693–94 Wybrew, Hugh Rev. of D. Krueger, 602–03 Wyclif, John men., 632–33 Wynn, Phillip Augustine on War and Military Service, rev., 603–04 Young, Ernest P. Rev. of A. E. Clark, 968–69 Young, Robin Darling The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity, Forum Essay, 879–88 Zabarella, Franciscus men., 633–34 Zakar, Polykarp, OCist, Abbot General auth., article on history of Cistercian order, 413 biog., 413 Zanon, Ottorino, Servant of God Pope Francis recognizes heroic virtue, 699 Zchomelidse, Nino Receives 2015 Howard R. Marraro Prize for Art, Ritual, and Civic Identity in Medieval Southern Italy, 972 Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum Special Issue published, 191 Zielinski, Martin Rev. of M. B. F. Connolly, 392–93 Zinn, Grover A., Jr. men., 618–19 INDEX, CENTENNIAL ISSUE 1 Volume 101 (2015) Compiled by Orysia Mack Abbreviation: men.: mentioned Almeida, Teodoro de men., 65–79 American Catholic Historical Association men., iii–v Art history men., 18–40 Artifacts men., 1–17 Black church men., 80–98 Brockey, Liam Matthew men., 1–17 The Cruelest Honor: The Relics of Francis Xavier in Early-Modern Asia, 41–64 Bynum, Caroline W. “Crowned with Many Crowns”: Nuns and Their Statues in Late-Medieval Wienhausen, 18–40 men., 1–17 Carnegie Museum of Art men., 80–98 Catholicism in Asia men., 41–64 Cistercian order men., 18–40 Crowns men., 18–40 Devotional literature men., 65–79 Devotional objects men., 18–40 Female identity men., 18–40 Franciscan order men., 65–79 FSA/OWI photography men., 80–98 Gibbons, James, Cardinal men., iii–v Guilday, Peter men., iii–v Haas, Katherine men., 1–17 Harris, Teenie men., 80–98 Images, Power of men., 65–79 Lutheran reforms men., 18–40 Material Culture men., 80–98 Bibliography men., 99–106 and Catholicism men., 1–17, 99–106 of devotion men., 65–79 Material history men., 41–64 McDannell, Colleen men., 1–17 Photography, Teenie Harris, and the Migration of Catholic Images, 80–98 Mexico late-colonial reforms men., 65–79 Miller, Maureen C. Catholic Material Culture: An Introductory Bibliography, 99–106 Introduction: Material Culture and Catholic History, 1–17 Minnich, Nelson H., and Trevor Lipscombe Foreword to Centennial Issue No. 1, iii–v Monastic art men., 18–40 Objects men., 1–17 Oratorians men., 65–79 xxvii xxviii INDEX TO CENTENNIAL ISSUE 1 Photography men., 80–98 Relics men., 41–64 Society of Jesus men., 41–64 Taylor, William B. An “Evolved” Devotional Book from Late-Eighteenth-Century Mexico, 65–79 men., 1–17 Wienhausen men., 18–40 Women’s monasticism men., 18–40 Xavier, Francis, Saint men., 41–64 INDEX, CENTENNIAL ISSUE 2 Volume 101 (2015) Compiled by Orysia Mack Abbreviation: men.: mentioned Africa men., 223–41 American Catholic Historical Association men., v–vii Americanism men., 156–222 Annales men., 1–26 Anthropology men., 242–73 Anti-Catholicism men., 156–222 Antimodernist decrees men., 27–71 Asceticism men., 27–71 Augustine of Hippo, Bishop and Saint men., 27–71 Austro-Hungarian empire men., 123–55 Avignon men., 72–93 Bireley, Robert, S.J. The Early Modern Period in the First 100 Years of The Catholic Historical Review, 94–122 Black Catholics men., 156–222 Brown, Peter men., 27–71 Burckhardt, Jakob men., 94–122 The Catholic Historical Review men., v–xii, 1–26, 27–71, 72–93, 94–122, 123–55, 156–222, 223–41, 242–73 Catholic Reform men., 94–122 Catholic scholarship men., 27–71 Catholicism and Historiography men., 123–55 The Catholic University of America men., 27–71 Christian identity men., 27–71 Church and state men., 156–222 Clark, Elizabeth A. From Patristics to Late Antiquity at The Catholic Historical Review, 27–71 Concilium Tridentinum men., 1–26 Constable, Giles, and Scott G. Bruce Medieval Studies in The Catholic Historical Review, 72–93 “Contemporary” as category for historical study men., 123–55 Conversion men., 27–71 Councils men., 1–26, 123–55 Crusades men., 72–93 Devotionalism men., 156–222 Dries, Angelyn, O.S.F. “National and Universal”: Nineteenth- and Twentieth-Century Catholic Missions and World Christianity in The Catholic Historical Review, 242–73 Early-modern Catholicism men., 94–122 Eastern Christianity men., 27–71 Ecumenism men., 242–73 xxix xxx INDEX TO CENTENNIAL ISSUE 2 Editorial Staff of The Catholic Historical Review, 1915–2015 men., x–xii English Catholicism men., 94–122 European Catholicism men., 123–55 Fascism men., 123–55 French Catholicism men., 123–55 Gibbons, James, Cardinal men., v–vii Gleason, Philip The Historiography of American Catholicism as Reflected in The Catholic Historical Review, 1915–2015, 156–222 Guilday, Peter men., v–vii, ix Hagiography men., 72–93 Hispanics men., 156–222 Historiography men., 27–71, 123–55 History from below men., 1–26 Hsia, R. Po-Chia The Catholic Historical Review: One Hundred Years of Scholarship on Catholic Missions in the Early Modern World, 223–41 Immigrants men., 156–222 Infallibility men., 1–26 Investiture Controversy men., 72–93 Irish Catholicism men., 123–55 Islam men., 223–41 Late antiquity men., 27–71 Latin America men., 223–41, 242–73 Lay trusteeism men., 156–222 Lucas, Henry men., 94–122 Luther, Martin men., 94–122 Martyrdom men., 27–71 McGuire, Martin men., 27–71 Melloni, Alberto From a Catholic Identity to an American View: Historical Studies, Reviews, and Fundamentals in Articles on Late Modern and Contemporary Europe, 123–55 Mexico men., 223–41 Ming China men., 223–41 Minnich, Nelson H., and Trevor Lipscombe Foreword to Centennial Issue No. 2: A Centennial Retrospective, v–vii Mission history men., 1–26, 72–93, 156–222, 223–41, 242–73 Missionary martyrs men., 242–73 Missions and science men., 242–73 Modernism men., 1–26, 123–55, 156–222 Monasticism men., 72–93 Monumenta Historica S. J. men., 1–26 Nativism men., 156–222 Neo-Thomism men., 1–26 O’Malley, John W., S.J. Catholic Church History: One Hundred Years of the Discipline, 1–26 men., 94–122 Papacy men., 72–93 Patristics men., 27–71 Protestant Reformation men., 94–122, 123–55 Religious orders men., 72–93, 223–41 Renaissance men., 94–122 Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique men., 1–26 Risorgimento men., 123–55 Scientific history men., 156–222, 242–73 INDEX TO CENTENNIAL ISSUE 2 Second Vatican Council men., 27–71, 156–222 Shahan, Thomas Joseph, Bishop men., viii Social history men., 1–26, 27–71, 156–222 Social reform men., 156–222 Society of Jesus men., 223–41, 242–73 Spanish Catholicism men., 123–55 xxxi Spanish-American War men., 242–73 Third Reich, Relation of Church to men., 123–55 Vatican Councils men., 1–26 Women’s religious communities men., 156–222 Women’s history men., 1–26, 27–71, 72–93, 156–222 World Christianity men., 242–73 Robert Bireley, S.J. Professor Emeritus Department of History Loyola University Chicago Photograph by Mark Beane THE CATHOLIC HISTORICAL REVIEW VOL. 101 AUTUMN, 2015 NO. 4 Reminiscences and Reflections ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J.* The author describes his formative influences, his mentors, and his work in early modern Catholicism, and he lays out his argument for the importance of undergraduate history. Keywords: Anti-Machiavellianism; early modern Catholicism; Emperor Ferdinand II; Jesuit court confessors; Maximilian of Bavaria; undergraduate history I was born in Evanston, Illinois, the first suburb north of Chicago, on July 26, 1933, just as Hitler was coming to power in Germany and a few months after Franklin Delano Roosevelt became president in the depths of the Great Depression. Evanston was a great place to grow up; it was anything but a Catholic ghetto, and it was characterized by considerable socioeconomic diversity. Protestant churches dominated but there were four vibrant Catholic parishes, one of them Polish-speaking, and our family of five participated actively in St. Mary’s parish where I attended the parish school. We did not socialize much with Protestants—indeed, Catholic students were prohibited from patronizing the YMCA just down the street from the parish school. But we did get to know some of them well. A Protestant family with six children, the Schulzes, lived next door to us, and both my sister and I spent considerable time in their house. The oldest daughter was one of my sister’s closest friends, and they remained such until my sister died twelve years ago. Many years later I prayed at the deathbed of both Mr. and Mrs. Schulz. There was Mr. Kasten, who had been dismissed as principal of the local Lutheran school and then served as a handyman in the neighborhood. I used to help him shovel snow during *Father Bireley is professor emeritus in the Department of History at Loyola University Chicago, email: rbirele@luc.edu. 731 732 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS the winter, and once he invited me into his home and showed me his volumes of the collected works of Martin Luther. During the 1940s my father used to make a couple of business trips to New York every year. He would always return with a copy of the New York Times, which was then the newspaper of record. I would read through it carefully, and it helped to introduce me to the world of politics and history. In September 1947 I made my first acquaintance with the Jesuits when I began high school at Loyola Academy on the campus of Loyola University on the north side of Chicago (it moved later to suburban Wilmette). In freshman year I took a course in Western civilization taught by the football coach and in sophomore year a course in American history. The latter course was taught by the excellent Walter Bamberger, for whom I wrote my first “research paper” on the financing of the New York Central Railroad, a topic that fascinated me. Juniors and seniors were divided into the classical course featuring further study of Latin and Greek, the scientific course that featured chemistry and physics, and a third course that featured modern European history and Spanish. History did not rank high. I entered the classical course. At Loyola I also developed an interest in social issues, especially race, partly as a result of religion courses from a highly idiosyncratic but effective teacher and visits to the slums on the south side of Chicago. I also read on my own a book on the French worker priests and a biography of Walter Reuther, the leader of the United Automobile Workers.1 During my years at Loyola Academy I experienced a growing attraction to the Society of Jesus, and at a retreat in the middle of my junior year I decided to apply for admission to the Society. I have never looked back. I entered the Society of Jesus on August 8, 1951, at the novitiate in Milford, Ohio, outside Cincinnati. The first two years there as a novice introduced me to the way of life in the Society, and the second two years were devoted mostly to literary studies in the “juniorate.” I received an excellent literary education at Milford and subsequently in philosophy and theology. A failure in the system was the relative neglect of science. A major decision was made about the future of my study toward the end of my fourth year at Milford. In the late 1940s Jesuit Superior General Jean-Baptiste Janssens had issued circular letters “On the Social Apostolate” 1. I cannot now identify the book on the worker priests; the biography of Reuther was probably Irving Howe, The UAW and Walter Reuther (New York, 1949). ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 733 and “On the Intellectual Apostolate,” urging Jesuits to devote more attention to these ministries. Interest in the social apostolate was high among us Scholastics (Jesuits preparing for the priesthood), an interest that I shared partly because of my experience in high school. The province prefect of studies came to Milford to discuss the studies that students wished to pursue beyond the required philosophy and theology. Students were expected to start working toward a master’s degree as they studied philosophy, to prepare for later teaching in one of the province’s high schools. I expressed my desire to pursue a master’s in sociology in line with my interest in the social apostolate. But the prefect told me that the province had enough Scholastics studying sociology and that it needed more history teachers for the high schools. History would thus become the subject in which I would pursue a master’s degree. I have never regretted this decision. For fall semester 1955 I moved to West Baden College, a Jesuit seminary in southern Indiana (the Celtics star Larry Bird came from nearby French Lick), for three years of philosophy studies where I completed the necessary undergraduate courses in history and then began my study for a master’s degree in history. The one history professor was Charles Metzger, one of the first American Jesuits to pursue an advanced degree at a secular university, having garnered an MA at Oxford and a PhD at the University of Michigan with a specialization in American colonial history. I attended his survey courses of American and English history as one of a small group of students. Father Metzger would come to class with a few notes on the back of an envelope, then deliver a perfectly coherent, 90-minute lecture that was stimulating and at times eloquent. Two events pushed me toward an interest in contemporary Germany during my years in philosophy. During the summer we Scholastics traveled up to Chicago for courses at Loyola University with which West Baden College was affiliated. There I took a course on modern Germany by Raymond Schmandt, another outstanding lecturer, and then the graduate seminar “On Modern Totalitarianism” taught by the charismatic if disorganized Edward Gargan who later taught at Wesleyan and the University of Wisconsin–Madison and served as a president of the American Catholic Historical Association. For him, I wrote a paper on “H. L. Mencken, Nietzsche, and the Nazis,” in which I examined Mencken’s early sympathy for the Nazis. Back at West Baden in fall 1957 for a course on modern political parties, I prepared a seminar paper on “Adenauer and the Christian Democrats in Germany.” My interest was now turning to the relationship between religion and politics, especially in the Christian Democratic parties that sprouted up in Europe in the wake of World War II. The profes- 734 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS sor encouraged me to publish the paper; it appeared eventually in Thought: A Journal of Catholic Thought, a now defunct periodical published by Fordham University Press. It was my first publication. In August 1958 I began three years teaching European civilization to freshmen and American history to sophomores at St. Ignatius High School in Cleveland, the next phase in my formation as a Jesuit called “regency.” In my third year I introduced an Advanced Placement course in European history for juniors and seniors at St. Ignatius, the second AP course there following chemistry. The text used was the History of the Modern World by Robert R. Palmer and Joel Colton (New York, 1950). Many years later I got to know Professor Palmer at Princeton. In my final year I also taught American history to sophomore honors students. In the second semester each student was required to select a twentieth-century American, write a twelve-page book review of two biographies of the individual, and produce a twenty-page term paper on some aspect of this person’s life. College students today would rebel at these requirements. The teaching in high school certainly prepared me for teaching in college. Meanwhile, I completed my master’s degree in history at Loyola with a thesis on “The Reaction of Five American Catholic Periodicals to the Rise of Nazism, 1928–1936.” Now it was time to begin a four-year study of theology; ordination to the priesthood took place at the end of the third year. At that time Germany and France dominated in the study of theology, and Jesuit superiors were glad to accommodate nearly anyone who desired to travel to Europe for theology studies. I had two reasons for studying theology in Germany. The first was to secure an excellent theological education. The second was to master German so that I could undertake doctoral studies in modern German history after the completion of my theological studies. So I began four years of theological study at the Jesuit Hochschule Sankt Georgen in Frankfurt am Main. The international experience was invaluable. Gordon Zahn’s controversial book German Catholics and Hitler’s Wars (New York, 1962) appeared shortly after I left for Germany. Toward the end of my studies there I began to think about a future doctoral program. A few older German Jesuits alerted me to the extensive diary of Father Friedrich Muckerman, which was housed in the Jesuit Archives in Cologne. Muckerman had been a significant journalist and literary figure in Germany in the 1920s and early 1930s who firmly opposed Hitler. After Hitler came to power in 1933 he slipped out the back door of the residence in Cologne when the Gestapo knocked on the front door. He fled to Holland where he began to edit an anti-Nazi periodical, Der ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 735 deutsche Weg, and smuggled it into Germany. Under tremendous pressure from the German government he was forced to leave Holland and headed to Vienna, Rome, and Paris; he was one of the last persons to speak on Paris radio before the Germans occupied the city. He then fled to Vichy France and, when the Germans occupied it, left for Switzerland, where he died in 1945. His diary promised to be excellent source material for a dissertation. But when a leading German Jesuit inquired in Rome whether I might have access to it, he was told that the time was not yet opportune.2 This experience made me begin to wonder about access to documents if the Church in the Nazi period became the subject of my research. I also heard that some German academics were withholding certain documents until their own students could exploit them. After my ordination to the priesthood on August 28, 1964, I attended a conference of the Katholische Akademie in Bayern that dealt with the Church in the Nazi period. There I met Professor Konrad Repgen, then at Saarbrűcken but planning a move to Bonn, and I asked him about future study with him. He referred me to his friend, Professor Dieter Albrecht, then at the University of Mainz but shortly would depart for Regensburg. Both of them had written on the Nazi period; only later when I arrived at Harvard did I realize that early modern Europe was the principal field of both of them. Before I returned to the United States, I had a long lunch with Albrecht at his home in Mainz. He was to become a patron and friend. My first year back in the United States was spent in tertianship, the final stage of my Jesuit formation. By now, superiors had authorized me to proceed with doctoral studies in history. I applied to Harvard and Yale, thinking that if both rejected me, I would return to Europe. Yale turned me down, but Harvard accepted me, and so I began my doctoral studies there in fall 1966. I was thrilled to be able to study at Harvard, and I was not to be disappointed. As I started at Harvard, I was still undecided whether to make modern Germany or early modern Germany my principal field of interest. In my first year I took lecture courses on early modern France and modern Germany with Franklin Ford, then dean of the faculty of arts and sciences and the second person in the university hierarchy. Gradually my interest was shifting to early modern Germany and early Jesuit history. Up to this point 2. This diary was later published as Friedrich Muckermann, Im Kampf zwischen zwei Epochen. Erinnerungen, ed. Nikolaus Junk (Mainz, 1973). In Germany it became a minibestseller. 736 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS much had been published on the early years of the Jesuits and on their many missions throughout the world. But the history of the Jesuits in Europe from the last third of the sixteenth century to the suppression of the Society in 1773 had attracted relatively little attention from the academic community in the English-speaking world. My interest in the relationship between religion and politics also played a role here. I had often read about the influence of Jesuit court confessors on politics in the early modern period, but as far as I could tell, there was no systematic treatment of the topic. But where to start? During a survey course of Professor Theodore Rabb on early modern Europe I reread C. V. Wedgwood’s Thirty Years War and came to realize that Maximilian, Duke and later Elector of Bavaria, had been a major figure on the Catholic side throughout the whole Thirty Years’ War. What about his confessor? While browsing through the card catalog at Harvard, I found that my friend Albrecht had written extensively about Maximilian3 and that the Jesuit Adam Contzen had served as the duke’s confessor during the crucial years of the war from 1624 to 1635. Contzen also, I quickly learned, had a substantial list of publications that featured religion and politics. I wrote Albrecht, asking whether he considered Contzen a suitable subject for a dissertation, and he encouraged me to move ahead. Ford then agreed to serve as my director, and he was to give me valuable assistance. At Harvard, we were required to take comprehensive oral exams in four fields. In May 1968 I passed exams in medieval history, early modern German history, early modern intellectual history, and modern German history. I am grateful that Harvard insisted on the examinations in four fields; this required the achievement of a certain breadth of historical knowledge. A few years later I heard Konrad Repgen deliver a lecture in Rome in which he stated that dissertations had grown in quality in recent years but lamented the lack of general knowledge on the part of many historians. I am afraid that the latter situation has worsened. I then spent the summer and fall plowing through the more than 800 pages of Contzen’s Ten Books on Politics (1620; 2nd ed. 1629).4 In February 1969 I flew to Europe to begin research on my dissertation in Munich, 3. Albrecht had also provided an introduction to the German translation of Wedgwood’s The Thirty Years War (London, 1938). 4. Libri Decem de Politicis. ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 737 Rome, and Vienna. On my first day in the Geheimes Staatsarchiv in Munich, the friendly attendant showed me a book that had just appeared by Ernst Albert Seils, Die Staatslehre des Adam Contzen SJ (Lübeck, 1969). My first thought was: there goes my dissertation! But the book—an excellent study of Contzen’s political thought—included nothing about his activity as confessor to Maximilian. I spent six weeks working in the Jesuit Central Archives in Rome where I found 109 letters from Jesuit Superior General Muzio Vitelleschi to Contzen during the latter’s years as confessor to Maximilian, many of them with significant political content. I was really on to something. I then returned to work in the Geheimes Staatsarchiv and Allgemeines Staatsarchiv in Munich. There I found drafts of correspondence with the phrase “To be revised in accord with Fr. Contzen’s remarks” in Maximilian’s own hand. I also made use of a set of documents that the Germans had been unable to decipher. These were the pocket-size notebooks of Bartholomaeus Richel, who was Maximilian’s longtime vicechancellor and the mediator between the prince and his privy council, as Maximilian did not normally attend the council meetings. The notebooks were written in a mishmash of German, Latin, and Italian, and they pointed clearly to the influence of Contzen. My research showed that after Catholic forces gained the clear upper hand in the war that had broken out in the Empire, Contzen and his counterpart in Mainz had advocated for Emperor Ferdinand’s disastrous Edict of Restitution of 1629 that reclaimed the lands that the Protestants had confiscated from Catholics since the Peace of Augsburg of 1555. The initiative for the Edict came from Munich and Mainz. The principal argument of Contzen was that God was summoning Maximilian to this drastic measure and that to refuse to do so was to sin and to stain the reputation of the Bavarian Wittelsbachs. This was clearly a religious argument that characterized the militant party at the court of Munich. Aligned against it were the moderates who rejected the theological argument of the militants. Policy could not be based on an alleged divine revelation, they contended. They called for a favorable peace that would consolidate the gains achieved by the Catholics and warned against overplaying the Catholic hand, as doing so would bring previously neutral Protestant states and foreign states into the war. This is exactly what happened with the invasion of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden and the defection to him of Saxony and Brandenburg. At the Peace of Prague of 1635 the moderate party finally won out. Moreover, I also argued that Maximilian acted against his own immediate political interest while giving priority to the interest of the Church and the Empire. My thesis also showed the importance of individual decisions in history at a 738 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS time when many historians downplayed this in favor of a Marxian emphasis on social forces. I returned to Harvard in early summer 1970 after the upheaval at the university of the 1969–70 academic year, and I prepared a complete draft of the dissertation during the summer and fall before turning to teaching at Loyola University Chicago in January 1971. When offered a teaching fellowship at the university I declined, figuring that I had acquired enough teaching experience at St. Ignatius. I was eager to escape the category of graduate student. In summer 1971 I rewrote the whole manuscript and submitted it to Ford and to second reader William Bouwsma on July 31, the feast of St. Ignatius. They returned it to me two weeks later with their approval, and I received my PhD the following June. Albrecht, who had provided me with valuable assistance during the writing of the dissertation although he did not completely agree with its findings, offered to have the dissertation published in the Schriftenreihe der Historischen Kommission der bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, and he oversaw its translation into German by his mother-inlaw and one of his graduate students. So it appeared in 1975 as Maximilian von Bayern, Adam Contzen, S.J., und die Gegenreformation in Deutschland 1624–1635 (Göttingen, 1975). My findings did not go uncontested, as they ran counter to the general interpretation of Maximilian as a religious prince whose priority was always the advancement of his own and Bavaria’s interests. In his masterful biography of Maximilian, Maximilian I. von Bayern (Munich, 1998), Albrecht discussed our relative positions and moved closer to mine without completely accepting it.5 The main theme of my scholarship now became the relationship among politics, religion, and morality, in practice and in theory. While conducting my research on my dissertation I had noticed in various archives as well as in the literature many traces of the Jesuit William Lamormaini who served as confessor to Emperor Ferdinand II for almost exactly the same period as Contzen had served Maximilian. Why not move over to Vienna to investigate Lamormaini’s part on the much more expansive imperial stage in Vienna? So this became my new project. I was fortu- 5. A master’s student at the University of Munich, writing before the publication of Albrecht’s biography, compared the positions of Albrecht and myself on Maximilian and decided in favor of my position. ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 739 nate to receive an NEH Fellowship for Younger Humanists (I was thirtynine, just one year under the cut-off point of forty). The grant enabled me to spend the academic year 1972–73 working in European archives, especially those in Rome and Vienna. I spent the fall in Rome. There in the Roman Archives of the Society of Jesus I found more than 1000 letters from Vitelleschi to Lamormaini for the period 1624 to 1635, many of them with substantial political content, as well as other correspondence with the imperial court. These documents proved invaluable in assessing the relationship between Lamormaini and Ferdinand and offering many insights into the workings of the imperial court. Lamormaini was much closer to Ferdinand than Contzen was to Maximilian. The Vatican Library and Archives then contained the regular weekly reports from the nuncio in Vienna plus other correspondence. A delight in working at the Vatican was the regular mid-morning visit to the coffee bar between the library and the archives where other scholars circulated congenially. The second half of that year found me in Vienna researching in the venerable Haus-, Hof- und Staatarchiv, with forays to the Benedictine Monastery outside Györ in Hungary that proved fruitless and to the Czechoslovak State Archives in Brno that turned out to be highly rewarding. During the negotiations over the Peace of Prague of 1635, Emperor Ferdinand had convoked a conference of twenty-four theologians to determine whether he could, in conscience, agree to the terms that had been proposed. Cardinal Franz von Dietrichstein, bishop of Olomouc, had chaired the conference, and his papers, I knew, were in the archives in Brno. There just might be something in Brno from the conference. It was difficult obtaining a visa for Brno when the shadow of the suppression of the Prague Spring still hung over Czechoslovakia, but finally it came through. None of the students working in the archive would so much as look at this American, but the archivist herself was friendly and helpful. When she brought out the first box of the Dietrichstein papers, I was thrilled to find a twenty-six-page protocol of the conference written in the clear hand of the Capuchin Basilio d’Aire, one of the participants. It was, along with the Richel notebooks in Munich, one of my most satisfying archival discoveries. Lamormaini spoke more than any other participant, but he did not submit a position paper. The protocol confirmed my theory about the religious nature of the war. Once again in Vienna, as in Munich and other Catholic courts, the struggle between the militants led by Lamormaini and the moderates was evident. I had come now to distinguish between a religious and a holy war. A religious war was fought to advance or to defend religious interests. A 740 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS holy war, which had a long tradition going back to the Hebrew wars in the Old Testament, was a war fought at the summons of God and with the promise of divine assistance. Both Maximilian and Ferdinand shared the latter view of the Thirty Years’ War from roughly 1627 to 1635, and it found its expression chiefly in the Edict of Restitution. Both rulers surrendered this position at the Peace of Prague of 1635, which prepared the way for the Peace of Westphalia. Religion continued to be a feature of the Thirty Years’ War, but its importance declined. After my return to Chicago for the 1973–74 academic year, I continued working on the book manuscript. In April 1976 my colleague and good friend Hanns Gross and I organized the annual Newberry Library Renaissance Conference on the topic “Renaissance and Counter-Reformation in the Empire.” We assembled an all-star cast that featured Robert J. W. Evans who had recently published Rudolf II and His World: A Study in Intellectual History 1576–1612 (Oxford, 1973); it was his first trip to the United States, and he delivered the keynote address. Later that spring I returned to Europe to fill in some gaps in my research. An illness then provided me with the time to finish the book. In fall 1979 a colleague suffered a heart attack in the second week of classes, and I volunteered to assume his course on Western civilization up to 1650 in addition to my regular load. It was my first experience lecturing to nearly 200 students. By the end of the semester I was exhausted and had to spend a week in the hospital. My doctor advised me to cancel my commitment to serve as a guest professor at The Catholic University of America that spring. So I had time to finish Religion and Politics in the Age of the Counterreformation: Emperor Ferdinand II, William Lamormaini, S.J., and the Formation of Imperial Policy and sent it to Lewis Bateman, who guided the volume through the production process at University of North Carolina Press until its publication in 1981. (He later assisted in the publication of three more of my books, two at North Carolina and two at Cambridge University Press.) I then had the opportunity to defend my position at the international conference “Krieg und Politik 1618–1648,” which took place at the Historisches Kolleg in Munich in 1984. My contribution, “The Thirty Years’ War as Germany’s Religious War,” appeared in 1988 in the volume that resulted from the conference.6 I dedicated this essay to Ford on his sixty-fifth birthday. 6. Krieg und Politik 1618–1648. Europäische Probleme und Perspective, ed. Konrad Repgen unter Mitarbeit with Elisabeth Müller-Luckner [Schriften des Historischen Kollegs 8], (Munich, 1988), pp. 85–106. ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 741 It was now time to turn to another topic, one that would not require a large amount of time in European archives now that extended residence in Europe was becoming increasingly expensive. I had frequently taught Machiavelli, and despite the attractive style and valuable thoughts on government found in The Prince and the Discourses, I have harbored a profound distaste for his basic thought. I find it strange that so many scholars can view his thought so positively. How can anyone take seriously the recommendation of the infamous Cesare Borgia or Romulus, the assassin of Remus, his mythological brother and cofounder of Rome, as models for political conduct? In the central passage of The Prince he wrote: “any man who under all conditions insists on making it his business to be good will surely be destroyed among so many who are not good. Hence a prince, in order to hold his position, must acquire the power to be not good, and understand when to use it and when not to use it, in accord with necessity.”7 A ruler could not be successful, where success was measured by the foundation and maintenance of a powerful state, without violating natural and Christian law at times. According to Friedrich Meinecke, a historian of Machiavellianism, “not only had genuine moral feeling been seriously wounded, but death had also been threatened to the Christian views of all churches and sects.”8 Machiavelli departed sharply from the tradition of Aristotle and Cicero against whom he was consciously writing. More than any other individual, he bears the responsibility for the negative view of politics and politicians that we often encounter in our culture today. He has exercised a baleful influence on Western culture. Machiavelli had raised starkly the issue of the relation of politics to morality and religion and in doing so provoked discussion that gathered force in the later sixteenth century and continues to the present day. We are told that there was a notable increase in the number of books on politics published in Italy and that groups assembled to discuss “cose di stato” in Rome and Genoa.9 Many writers took up their pens to argue against Machiavelli. Most of them condemned Machiavelli from a traditional 7. Machiavelli: The Chief Works and Others, trans. Allan Gilbert (Durham, NC, 1965), 1:57–58. 8. Friedrich Meinecke, Machiavellism: The Doctrine of Raison d’État and Its Place in Modern History, trans. Douglas Scott (New York, 1965; orig. publ. as Die Idee der Staatsräson in der neueren Geschichte, 1924), p. 49. 9. Rodolfo Savelli, “Tra Machiavelli e S. Giorgio. Cultura giuspolitica e dibattito istituzionale a Genova nel Cinquecento,” Finanze e ragion di stato in Italia e in Germania nella prima età moderna, ed. Aldo Maddelena and Herman Kellenbenz, [Annali dell’Istituto storico italo-germanico, no. 14], (Bologna, 1984), pp. 261–64. 742 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS philosophical or theological position that was not difficult to do. But there was one group of writers who, taking for granted the philosophical and theological objections to Machiavelli, attempted to refute him on his own turf—that is, on the means to establish and maintain a powerful state. They aimed to show that his program simply would not work, and they then proposed a program that would work. Of this group whom I identified as properly the “Anti-Machiavellians,” I chose the six most prominent Catholic writers: Giovanni Botero, On Reason of State (1589)10; Justus Lipsius, Six Books on Politics (1589); Pedro de Ribadeneira, The Christian Prince (1595); Adam Contzen, Ten Books on Politics (1620); Carlo Scribani, The Christian Politician (1624); and Diego Saavedra Fajardo, Idea of a Christian Prince (1643). They were the subject of my next book, The Counter-Reformation Prince: Anti-Machiavellianism or Catholic Statecraft in Early Modern Europe (Chapel Hill, NC, 1990). I prepared the first draft of this book during my fellowship at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton in 1986–87. It was a wonderful year filled with intellectual exchange, and I made several close friends, including Arnold Angenendt from Münster and Robert Markus from Nottingham. I also had the opportunity to chat with Robert R. Palmer, whose textbook I had used many years before. The Anti-Machiavellians stood for a significant element of CounterReformation spirituality: the full Christian life could be lived in the secular world. This conviction distinguished the spirituality of St. Ignatius Loyola’s Spiritual Exercises as well as St. Francis de Sales’s Introduction to a Devout Life, perhaps the two most influential devotional works of the Counter-Reformation. They also reaffirmed a major strain of the Renaissance: that the active life and especially participation in politics represented a noble Christian calling. Moral action, the Anti-Machiavellians argued, was by its very nature useful; immoral action was counter-productive. A standard example was the lie. It was always unprofitable because, in the long run, it undermined trust and confidence in its perpetrator. Moral action was reasonable, whereas immoral action was unreasonable. Machiavelli was unreasonable as well as irreligious and immoral. The AntiMachiavellian concern with practice fostered the moral analysis of individual actions and the careful application of general principles to a specific situation, or casuistry, which was a growing feature—often a controversial one—of the Counter-Reformation. What in a particular instance consti- 10. I am now preparing a translation of and an introduction to Botero’s Della Ragion di Stato for the series Cambridge Texts in the History of Political Thought. ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 743 tuted a lie? A great deal of ink was spilled over this issue. The Anti-Machiavellians did share positions with Machiavelli on many questions. They agreed with him that the support of subjects was absolutely essential for any ruler or regime, and all but one of them accepted his pessimistic view of human nature and thought that fear was more important than love as a constituent of this support. This contrasted with a fundamentally optimistic vision of the Christian’s relationship to the world that characterized the Counter-Reformation. Most of them emphasized the importance for a powerful state of economic development: the promotion of agriculture, commerce, and industry. Botero was an early mercantilist. This was a moral means to a powerful state that benefitted both ruler and subjects. Machiavelli had ignored it. At this point I wavered about my next project. A new obligation came my way when I was named superior of a small Jesuit community at Loyola University, a position I held from 1992 to 1998. Then out of the blue an invitation arrived from Jeremy Black to prepare a book on the Catholic Reformation for the Macmillan series European History in Perspective. This resulted in The Refashioning of Catholicism, 1450–1700: A Reassessment of the Counter Reformation (Basingstoke, UK/Washington, DC, 1999), which I shall discuss later. I then decided to return to the topic of the court confessors but would expand my reach to the whole Thirty Years’ War (from 1618 to 1648) and to four courts (Munich, Vienna, Paris, and Madrid). A leave of absence from my duties as superior gave me the opportunity to spend four months of further archival work in Rome in 1995, and I was able to spend a delightful year at the National Humanities Center in North Carolina in the academic year 1998–99. Eventually there appeared The Jesuits and the Thirty Years War: Kings, Courts, and Confessors (New York, 2003). Jesuit Superior General Vitelleschi, who served from 1615 to 1645, emerged as the principal figure in the book. He displayed considerable skill as he dealt with the four courts and the Jesuits at the courts who were often at serious odds with one another. The Jesuits certainly could not be counted as a monolithic organization; there was no general “Jesuit” policy during the war. Nor was there any consensus within the order about what the relationship ought to be between religion and politics. Letters to Rome from Jesuits in Munich and Vienna complained about the activity of Contzen and Lamormaini. Vitelleschi aimed, above all, to maintain harmony within the Society and to secure support at the various courts for the initiatives of the papacy for peace. Jesuit influence was most pronounced at the two German courts of Munich and Vienna. Other religious orders had been weakened considerably by the Reformation, and the Jesuits had 744 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS become for the time the dominant order. But the successors of Contzen and Lamormaini, Johannes Vervaux in Munich and Johannes Gans in Vienna, were moderates who served as confessor to Maximilian and Emperor Ferdinand III until the end of the war. Vervaux, a native of Lorraine, seems to have enjoyed a closer personal relationship with Maximilian than the irascible Contzen. He undertook a few diplomatic missions for Maximilian, although this was prohibited by Jesuit regulations, and traveled to Paris for the duke in 1645. In Vienna Ferdinand III, who succeeded his father in 1637 and was no less religious than his father, still took the step of greatly reducing the influence of ecclesiastics, including Jesuits at court. Thus Gans remained a relatively marginal figure. The Jesuits faced a challenging situation in France. From their earliest days they had encountered opposition from Gallican elements at the Sorbonne and the Parlement of Paris. From 1594 (after an assassination attempt on Henry IV) until 1603, they were exiled from most of the kingdom. They had a huge investment in France: fifty-eight colleges in 1623 and 13,000 students in 1627. They depended heavily upon the king for support against their enemies, a situation that continued nearly up to the French Revolution. This explains the extremely deferential attitude always maintained by Vitelleschi toward Louis XIII and especially toward Richelieu once he became chief minister in 1624. Up to that point several confessors played a role at court, but the cardinal now effectively controlled them. In 1637 Nicholas Caussin, confessor of Louis XIII, along with a young nun who had been a favorite of Louis XIII before her entrance into the convent, attempted to unseat Richelieu in the interest of peace in Europe and relief for the French peasantry burdened with heavy taxes for the war. Richelieu outfoxed them, and Vitelleschi exiled Caussin to the Jesuit college at Quimper on the western coast of Brittany—nearly as far as one could get from Paris and remain in France. Of the courts that I examined the Jesuits exerted the least influence in Madrid. Tradition required that the king choose a Dominican for his confessor and the queen a Franciscan. But the Jesuits did provide the confessor for the count-duke of Olivares, who was the leading minister in Spain from 1621 to 1643. Hernando de Salazar held this position for a time as well as other governmental posts. Because his activities violated the policy of the Society, which prohibited the conduct of such offices by Jesuits, Vitelleschi tried to remove him and eventually succeeded. The militant spirit of the Counter-Reformation did not breathe as powerfully in Madrid as it did in Munich and Vienna. For political reasons, the Spaniards favored some concessions to the Protestants in the empire in order to encourage a peace ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 745 there that would free the emperor to assist them in their conflict in the Netherlands. Olivares urged Vitelleschi to remove Lamormaini, the advocate of a militant policy, from his post as confessor to Ferdinand II, and he even threatened to exile the Jesuits from Spain if Vitelleschi failed to act. But Vitelleschi called his bluff and refused to budge on the matter. Vitelleschi complained that the Spaniards considered him French and the French considered him Spanish. My interest in Ferdinand II remained after the publication of Ferdinand II, William Lamormaini, S.J., and the Formation of Imperial Policy, and I published two articles on him in the early 1990s.11 In the past forty years magisterial biographies had appeared of major figures of the Thirty Years’ War such as John Elliott’s The Count-Duke of Olivares: The Statesman in an Age of Decline (New Haven, 1986), and Dieter Albrecht’s Maximilian I, and there were many fine biographies of Louis XIII, Cardinal Richelieu, the Duke of Lerma, Philip III and Philip IV, Gustav Adolf, and others. Indeed, two biographies of Ferdinand III were then in the works and have since been published.12 But there has been very little on Ferdinand II.13 So I decided to try my hand at it. Once again, a medical problem came to the rescue. In spring semester 2007 I had to undergo a knee replacement, and this freed me for the semester so that I might get a running start (so to speak) on the book. After the completion of the first draft I sent it to a colleague for evaluation. Her valuable criticisms were so extensive that I almost gave up on the project. But the chair of Loyola’s History Department, Timothy Gilfoyle, encouraged me to continue, and so I did. Finally the work appeared as Ferdinand II: Counter-Reformation Emperor, 1578–1637 (New York, 2014). In it, I argue that, more than any other individual, Ferdinand II contributed to the formation of the Habsburg Monarchy in Central Europe on the pillars of the dynasty, the Catholic Church, and the aristocracy. At the end of the Thirty Years’ War the monarchy emerged under Ferdinand III as one of the European powers, and it avoided the upheavals 11. Robert Bireley, “Ferdinand II: Founder of the Habsburg Monarchy,” in Crown, Church and Estates: Central European Politics in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, ed. R. J. W. Evans and Trevor Thomas (London, 1991) pp. 226–44, and Robert Bireley, “Confessional Absolutism in the Habsburg Lands in the Seventeenth Century,” in State and Society in Early Modern Austria, ed. Charles W. Ingrao (West Lafayette, IN, 1994), pp. 36–53. 12. Lothar Höbelt, Ferdinand III (1608–1657). Friedenskaiser wider Willen (Graz, 2008), and Mark Hengerer, Kaiser Ferdinand III. Eine Biographie (Vienna, 2012). Purdue University Press is now translating the latter. 13. Johann Franzl, Ferdinand II: Kaiser im Zwiespalt der Zeit (Graz, 1978), was out of date and based on limited sources. 746 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS that convulsed France, England, and the Spanish Empire in the 1640s. His moderate form of absolutism incorporated the estates into his government. He firmly established the Habsburg succession in the Empire after two weak emperors. The Counter-Reformation and Catholic Reform in Central Europe owed more to him than to any other secular ruler, I contended. But he erred seriously with the Edict of Restitution of 1629 and especially with the refusal for a long time to modify it, and so he bears responsibility for the prolongation of the war. I now await the verdict of colleagues. Over the years I have periodically taught a course on the Catholic Reform, now better known as early modern Catholicism, at the undergraduate and graduate levels. When I began teaching at Loyola University in 1971 the Protestant Reformation, especially in Germany and England, dominated the study of the religious changes of the sixteenth century in the Anglophone world. This approach could be seen in textbooks, conferences, and college courses. Theological issues were often the center of attention, and confessional positions frequently colored the work of historians. The late-medieval Church was portrayed as corrupt and decadent, badly in need of thorough-going reform. Reformation courses often ended with the Peace of Augsburg of 1555 that legalized the Confession of Augsburg in the Holy Roman Empire. There was increasing treatment of the social sources of the Reformation—in particular, the Peasants Revolt—that was fostered by historians from the Eastern bloc. Little space or attention was given to the Catholic Reform or other developments in the Catholic Church in the early modern period, and the treatment that was given it often focused on the Inquisition, the papacy, and the Jesuits. All this has changed now. My guess is that there are many more publications on the Catholic Church in the early modern period than there are on the Protestant Reformation. What are the reasons for this profound development? One is the ecumenical movement that emerged with a new vigor after World War II in light of the challenges of communism, Nazism, and a generally more secular world. Christians had to come together to meet these challenges. Historians played a major role in resolving or modifying many of the conflicts between Catholics and Protestants by taking a more balanced look at the issues that divided them. The hard lines that had divided Protestants and Catholics were softening. Catholics were coming to a much more sympathetic assessment of Luther. Second, there was the entrance into the field of early modern Europe of many students with no strong confessional commitment and with an attachment to professional objectivity as well as of many more Catholics. A particular feature of this interest in early modern Catholicism was the attention given to the history of the Jesuits. ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 747 Studies on the Jesuits have become à la mode. There are several reasons for this, in addition to the fact that they were a leading force in early modern Catholicism. First, they compose a truly international organization that has existed for nearly five centuries; there is no other comparable institution in the world apart from the Catholic Church itself. Second, they have a rich central archive in Rome that is well organized and easily consulted. Third, they were in the forefront of the effort to accommodate Catholicism to the peoples of Asia and the Americas and to a lesser extent of Africa, so they offer rich material on the meeting of cultures. Comparative studies of the Protestant Reformation and early modern Catholicism began to appear in the late 1950s with Ernst Walter Zeeden’s work on Konfessionsbildung (formation of the confessions) that showed the parallels in the development of the Reformation churches and early modern Catholicism.14 Both the Protestant churches and the early modern Catholic Church were recognized as having similar roots in the late Middle Ages, and recent scholarship has upgraded the condition of the Catholic Church on the eve of the Reformation. Even the Inquisition has received a more sympathetic and certainly a more nuanced treatment. Historians now trace the continuing impact of the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Reform well into the eighteenth century. Further comparative studies came with the work of John Bossy, who found in both Protestantism and in early modern Catholicism a decline from the religion of medieval Europe, and Jean Delumeau, who contended that large areas of rural Europe had not been effectively Christianized during the Middle Ages and that fear characterized both Catholic and Protestant religion in the early modern period.15 Principally German scholars developed Zeeden’s Konfessionsbildung into the theory of confessionalization (Konfessionalisierung) that continued to point up the parallels between the confessions while emphasizing the role of the state and social discipline in their evolution. Now the adequacy of confessionalization as an explanatory theory to describe the religious changes of the sixteenth century has been called into question as too schematic and rigid to do justice to the complex- 14. Ernst Walter Zeeden, “Grundlagen und Wege zur Konfessionsbildung in Deutschland im Zeitalter der Glaubenskämpfe,” Historische Zeitschrift, 185 (1958), 249–99, rpt. except for pp. 276–86 in Gegenreformation, ed. E. W. Zeeden (Darmstadt, 1973), pp. 85–134; E. W. Zeeden, Die Entstehung der Konfessionen. Grundlage und Formen der Konfessionsbildung im Zeitalter der Glaubensspaltung (Munich, 1965). 15. Jean Delumeau, Catholicism between Luther and Voltaire: A New View of the Counter Reformation, trans. Jeremy Moiser (London, 1977; orig, publ. as Le catholicisme entre Luther et Voltaire, Paris, 1971); John Bossy, Christianity in the West, 1400–1700 (New York, 1985). 748 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS ities of the growth of the Protestant churches and the Catholic Church and for failure to recognize the properly religious features of the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Reform. My own contribution to this discussion appeared in my The Refashioning of Catholicism 1450–1700. Here I proposed that the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Reform can best be understood as competing responses to the changing world of the sixteenth century and that they fit into the general pattern of church history that recognizes the need of the Church to accommodate to changing culture and society if it wishes to reach the people. This accommodation is both passive and active: Culture and society affect the Church, which in turn influences them. Conflict frequently occurs over the accommodation, some decrying any change as a sellout and others pointing out the need for the Church to keep up with the times. My concern was with Catholic accommodation, but I tried not to lose sight of the Protestant side. This struggle over accommodation appeared already in the Acts of the Apostles where the issue was whether all Christians should be required to observe many facets of the Jewish law. As Gentiles began to stream into the Church, this became a vital issue and it caused considerable conflict in the Church before it was resolved. The issue of accommodation arose once again during the Patristic Age, which was encapsulated in the words “What has Jerusalem to do with Athens?”. To what extent ought the Church take on features of Greek and Roman culture? Later in the early Middle Ages the issue arose once again with the invasion of many Germanic tribes into Europe with their warrior culture. One result of this was the Christian knight who took the cross of the Crusade. In our own day we experience this crisis over accommodation with greater acuteness than in any previous stage of church history given the rapid change that characterizes society and culture today. It is into this broad pattern that the Catholic Reform and the Protestant Reformation fit in the early modern period. What were these fundamental changes of the sixteenth century to which the Church was called to respond? The first was a widespread desire for church reform, for a spirituality of life in the world that would speak to a growing number of educated laity, and for the need to address the challenge of the Reformation itself. The second was the rise of the state, a process that dated from the high Middle Ages but reached a new stage in its development with the three monarchies of Spain, France, and England as well as other states. The cultural changes of the Renaissance constituted the third change: the return to ancient sources including the Bible, human- ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 749 ism and education, individualism, and the invention of the printing press. Then the fourth change included demographic and economic expansion and accompanying urbanization. Finally, there was the expansion of Europe across the globe but especially into Asia and the Americas. Not surprisingly there were many parallels between the Catholic and Protestant reactions to the new world of the sixteenth century. It is worthwhile noting some of these similarities without losing sight of the fundamental doctrinal differences. Two general features characterized the Catholic as well as the Protestant response to the changes. The first was the further development of a spirituality for the layperson in the world where the Spiritual Exercises of Loyola and the Introduction to the Devout Life of de Sales stand out on the Catholic side. Luther and John Calvin also both aimed at the Christianization of life in the world. Second, there was the pursuit of order after a period of widespread theological and ecclesiastical upheaval. This can be seen in the Catholic Church in the Council of Trent and in a consolidation of authority in the papacy, and in the Protestant churches in their numerous confessions and church orders. In addition, both Catholics and Protestants turned to education as a means of evangelization; this was the age of both the catechism and the school. The Catholic Church saw the foundation of new religious orders of both men and women who took education as a principal area of their ministry. Casuistry along with moral theology developed in the Catholic Church, somewhat less among the Protestants, to help resolve the moral issues that arose with the changes such as the legitimacy of usury which at the time meant the taking of any interest. In the Catholic Church there took place perhaps the greatest expansion of missionary activity since the early Church, and this brought with it many issues of accommodation to an array of cultures and civilizations. In addition to my publications projects, I had the honor to serve as president of the American Catholic Historical Association in 2008. Father Joseph Chinnici, O.F.M., then president of the Franciscan School of Theology in Berkeley, California, and my predecessor as president of the Association, was a great help to me in this office, and I continued the changes that he had inaugurated in the Association and that came to fruition in subsequent years. In my presidential address “Early Modern Catholicism as a Response to the Changing World of the Long Sixteenth Century,”16 I developed the ideas of my Refashioning of Catholicism 1450–1700. 16. Robert Bireley, “Early Modern Catholicism as a Response to the Changing World of the Long Sixteenth Century,” The Catholic Historical Review, 95 (2009), 219–39. 750 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS My focus over the years has been on research and undergraduate teaching. Graduate teaching has generally not attracted me, and I have had only two students who have completed doctorates under my direction. Indeed, I have occasionally thought of myself as at heart a high school teacher who likes to do research. The start of a new semester, especially of the fall semester with the arrival of new students and new faces before me, has often given me a sense of exhilaration. During my more than forty years at Loyola University Chicago I first taught two sections and later one of the survey course History of Western Civilization to 1650 in the first semester and History of Western Civilization Since 1650 in the second semester. In my later years I taught only the first half of the survey because we did not have enough faculty members ready to teach the first half. One of my primary goals was always to teach the students how to analyze a book and write a seven- to eight-page book review; I have written more than 100 book reviews myself, many for The Catholic Historical Review. I have especially enjoyed team-teaching undergraduate honors courses at Loyola with colleagues from English, modern languages, philosophy, theology, and fine arts. Indeed, I have learned much from them. For a few years I served as director of the History Honors Program. Teaching these introductory courses became for me a form of mission to convince students of the importance of the study of history for their own human development. It is a major building block in a liberal education, I told them. This is why the university requires history as an essential part of the curriculum. I laid out for them in an early lecture the reasons why they should study history. The case for history made by leading historians in professional publications and in the op-ed pages of newspapers I have found to be usually weak and unconvincing; in some cases it seems to be reduced to instruction in critical thinking that, of course, history does provide. But there is much more. Indeed, history can lead to a certain wisdom. What I say here holds even more for the history of the Church. One of the problems faced by the Church today is widespread ignorance of its history. As both Christians and Americans, we obviously have to know the traditions from which we come; that is fundamental. History, first, broadens my perspective by giving me a proper measure with which to evaluate my own time. We all should have an idea of what an ideal society would look like; it is perhaps more the function of philosophy or political science to help us to work out our vision of an ideal society. But if we measure our own society only against the ideal society, then we will always be depressed. Young people without any knowledge of history often fall into this trap. But history tells us that the ideal society has never existed ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 751 and that some of the most heinous crimes have been committed in the effort to create the ideal society, as at the time of the French Revolution and especially of the various communist regimes. Racism, for example, still exists in our society. But if we review the history of the postwar era in American history, we have to recognize that we have made enormous progress since that time. This does not mean that we give up efforts to improve the situation further, but it does give us a more balanced picture of it. We bemoan the corruption at various levels of our government, but is it really worse than it was in the Roman Republic, or in the French Revolution, or in the Tammany Hall of Boss Tweed? And what about foreign countries today? Often in those countries, what we consider corruption they consider to be only the normal cost of doing business. This is not to say that we ought to cease efforts to lessen corruption but to admit that given the human condition, we can never hope to eliminate it completely without taking draconian measures that would make the situation even worse. Second, history teaches us tolerance and understanding of others, vital qualities in our pluralistic society. On the personal level most of us want to be sympathetic and compassionate individuals. We come to know another person largely as we come to know his or her personal history. History helps us to translate this attitude to the social and political level. The educated person is characterized by the ability to understand the viewpoints of others, where they are coming from, and this normally requires a knowledge of their history. This does not mean that I agree with everyone; this is obviously impossible. But I must make the effort to understand why they think the way that they do. A case in point is the long-standing conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians. There is much to be said on the side of each party. Why is it that many Jews often feel hostile toward Christians? Here, study of the Holocaust is in order. Views of many African Americans can only be understood against the historical background of slavery. Many people have strong feelings on both sides of the immigration issue in the United States. Why do so many Russians apparently support the aggressive policies of Vladimir Putin? To understand this a knowledge of the recent history of Russia and the Soviet Union is necessary. No matter what position I take, I must be willing to understand the other side; here, history is critical. Third, history teaches us about the complexity of human affairs; it helps us to avoid the oversimplified, sound-bite statements that are often the instruments of demagogues. Monocausal explanations of events like the Civil War, World War I, or the contemporary rise of terrorism are always misleading. Very rarely in history is it simply “the good guys versus 752 REMINISCENCES AND REFLECTIONS the bad guys.” Normally there is something to be said for both sides in a conflict or interpretation. This does not mean that more cannot be said for one side than the other and that I cannot advocate for a particular side. Here we can think of the various judgments of the role in history of the Crusades or of Christopher Columbus. From history, we learn that simplistic positions do not do justice to reality. Fourth, history expands and complements our own experience. We do not have to learn everything by personal experience—for example, that fire inflicts a burn when I put my hand into it. From history I come to realize the depths to which human beings can sink, for example, in the perpetrators of the Holocaust or the genocide in Rwanda, as well as the heights to which they can rise, as we see in the heroes of the Resistance in Germany or in Mother Teresa. Good historical fiction can be placed here. There is perhaps no better description of what it was like to be a German infantryman in the trenches in World War I than Erich Maria Remarque’s classic All Quiet on the Western Front. I still cannot read the concluding passages of this novel without tears coming to my eyes. Fifth, history along with other subjects helps the student to formulate a philosophy of life. Students come to college often with a vision of life that is implicit. One goal of a college education is the formulation of a more or less explicit philosophy of life that in a Catholic university, one hopes, is a Christian one. History acquaints them with what great thinkers and artists of the past have identified as basic human problems and the answers that they have proposed. During their undergraduate years they should have the time and opportunity to work on this project that they may well not have later as their life progresses. They will undoubtedly modify it as they acquire more experience. But in college, they have the opportunity to get a running start. I realize that what I have written here is itself highly idealistic. How many college students today are capable of embracing these liberal values? But we have to make the effort, and, more generally, in making the argument in the public sphere for the study of history we have to emphasize these liberal values. History does, as we all know, help prepare students for many types of work in their future, but there is much more to it than that. We want to provide them with the opportunity to become active citizens and Christians. I have been very happy with my life as a Catholic historian at a Jesuit, Catholic university. The Catholic university has a major role to play in the ROBERT BIRELEY, S.J. 753 American Catholic Church, and I am glad to have had a part in it as the Catholic university struggles to maintain its identity. I have spent many hours on university committees working to this effect. Occasionally, especially recently, I have doubted my effectiveness as an undergraduate teacher. In this regard two recent happenings brightened the picture for me. Just last year as I was having lunch in our Jesuit dining room, a young woman, the guest of another Jesuit, approached me. She told me how much she had enjoyed my survey course two years earlier; as a result, she had become a history major. Then I learned that a student from the late 1970s had endowed a scholarship in my name as an outstanding teacher. This greatly pleased me. Judicial Torture in Canon Law and Church Tribunals: From Gratian to Galileo HENRY ANSGAR KELLY* Church historians have thought that the ancient and medieval Church disallowed torture in court proceedings. This view draws on Gratian’s Decretum (c. 1140), but Gratian cites canons that permit judicial torture. Deutero-Gratian (c. 1150) added canons from Roman civil law; Huguccio (c. 1190) and the Ordinary Gloss to the Decretum (1215 and later) also adopted Roman criteria but stipulated that the clergy could not apply coercion involving serious injury or bloodshed. Heresy inquisitors added a twist to this practice well before Galileo’s trial in 1633: a defendant admitting a heterodox deed but denying evil intent must be examined under torture. Keywords: canon law, Gratian, heresy, inquisition, torture D iscussed here will be judicial torture both in theory and in practice: in theory, as it is treated in canon law, commentaries on canon law, and practical handbooks on heresy; and in practice, as it is evidenced in church tribunals beginning around the turn of the fourteenth century, especially in the inquisitorial prosecution of heresy. This article will conclude with a brief look at the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and describe a theoretical and practical innovation illustrated in the trial of Galileo Galilei. The canon law examined is mainly that contained in Gratian’s Concordantia canonum discordantium (Harmonizing of Conflicting Rules), a collection of texts with legal implications, accompanied by commentary. It was first compiled around 1140, but about a decade later a person or persons unknown, perhaps including Gratian, doubled its size; the later redactor(s) can be called Deutero-Gratian.1 Like other earlier collections, it *Dr. Kelly is distinguished research professor in the Department of English at the University of California, Los Angeles, email: kelly@humnet.ucla.edu. The author thanks Kenneth Pennington and Edward Peters for much helpful advice. 1. See Anders Winroth, The Making of Gratian’s Decretum (New York, 2000). Instead of Gratian and Deutero-Gratian, Winroth employs the terms Gratian 1 and Gratian 2. Used 754 HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 755 came to be called Decreta, “Decrees,” which was often couched in the singular, Decretum. The latest edition of the final text is that of Emil Friedberg,2 but the elaborate apparatus that used to surround the text is also important. Cited here is the edition of text and apparatus commissioned by the Council of Trent and brought out under the auspices of Pope Gregory XIII in 1582; it is now available at the UCLA Library Web site.3 The summaries, glosses, cross-references, and subject indexes found here not only tell us how the central texts were received and interpreted but also provide an invaluable help to modern historians seeking to find their way through the intricacies of canon law. Gratian’s Disavowal of Extorted Confessions Historians have held the standard view that the Church, up through the early Middle Ages, did not approve of judicial torture. In 1882 Henry Charles Lea professed to have shown “how consistently the Church opposed the use of torture, so that, in the barbarism of the twelfth century, Gratian lays it down as an accepted rule of the canon law that no confession is to be extorted by torment.”4 As a more modern statement of this here is G1 to refer to the the original contents of Gratian’s collection, listed by Winroth, pp. 197–227, and G2 for the added material. In “Where Gratian Slept: The Life and Death of the Father of Canon Law,” Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung, Kanonistische Abteilung, 130 (2015), 105–28, Winroth finds evidence that Gratian became bishop of Chiusi; he thinks it likely that he did so in 1144 and died in 1145. He suggests that his successor (Gratian 2) produced the second recension of the Decretum after Gratian’s move to Chiusi and before 1150. An alternative account with Gratian as sole compiler is tentatively offered by Kenneth Pennington, “The Biography of Gratian, the Father of Canon Law,” Villanova Law Review, 59 (2014), 679–706, here 705: he completed G1 c. 1125–30, finished G2 c. 1133–35, and added part 3 (De consecratione) c. 1140 after his appointment as bishop of a diocese that could have been Chiusi. For discussions and debates about pre-G1 stages, see Melodie H. Eichbauer, “Gratian’s Decretum and the Changing Historiographical Landscape,” History Compass, 11 (2013), 1111–25. 2. Emil Friedberg, ed., Corpus iuris canonici (CIC), 2 vols. (Leipzig, 1879–81, repr. Graz, 1959), vol. 1: Decretum magistri Gratiani. The earlier edition of Emil Ludwig Richter (1839) was used in vol. 187 of the Patrologia Latina (PL). In citations of Gratian, D.=Distinction, C.=Cause (i.e., “case”), q.=question, c.=chapter/canon. In citing civil law, Cod., Dig., Nov.= Codex, Digest, Novels of Justinian. The Decretales Gregorii IX (=Liber Extra) is abbreviated by X. For all canonistic and civilian abbreviations, see James A. Brundage, Medieval Canon Law (London, 1995), pp. 190–205. 3. [Corpus Juris Canonici] (CJC), 3 vols. (Rome, 1582), http://digital.library.ucla.edu/ canonlaw/index.html. Vol. 1 is missing the title page; cf. that of Lyons, 1606: Decretum Gratiani emendatum et notationibus illustratum una cum glossis, Gregorii XIII pont. max. jussu editum, ad exemplar Romanum diligenter recognitum. See Winroth, Making, pp. 9–11, for cautions about the shortcomings of this edition, as well as those of Richter and Friedberg. 4. Henry Charles Lea, A History of the Inquisition in the Middle Ages, 3 vols. (New York, 1887), 1:421. Adhémar Esmein, Histoire de la procédure criminelle en France: et spécialement de 756 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS position puts it, “In canon law torture had always been prohibited, and Gratian (c. 1140) left no doubt about its illegality in ecclesiastical courts.”5 This conclusion is based on a supposed dictum or pronouncement, Quod vero confessio,6 that Gratian makes at the beginning of Question 6 of Cause 15: “Quod vero confessio cruciatibus extorquenda non sit,” which can be translated as follows: “However, that a confession is not to be extorted by torments [. . . ].” But, as can readily be seen, this is only a partial statement; a subordinate noun clause. We ask: What does the rest of the statement say, and what is the context? First, the full statement: “Quod vero confessio cruciatibus extorquenda non sit, Alexander Papa testatur, scribens omnibus orthodoxis.”7 Translation: “However, that a confession is not to be extorted with torments, Pope Alexander testifies, writing to all the orthodox.” At first look, this appears not to be a dictum at all but a standard form of introduction to the canon that follows: namely, Si sacerdotibus. The “however” (vero) stands most obviously in contrast to the previous canon, Presbiter, which says that a person can be convicted of a crime only by adequate proof or a spontaneous confession.8 Nevertheless, Gratian’s statement is obviously more than a summary of the following canon; it also hearkens back to the subject of Cause 15, the priest whose confession of guilt is extorted by his bishop’s “questions”—that is, by torture (“finally the bishop with questions extorts a confession”)—and to the query that arises from it, that is, Question number 6: la procédure inquisitoire depuis le XIII e siècle jusqu’à nos jours (Paris, 1882), does not take up the matter in his brief paragraph on torture, pp. 77–78, but in his revised version—which unfortunately exists only in a badly translated English version, A History of Continental Criminal Procedure with Special Reference to France, trans. John Simpson (Boston, 1913), p. 91—he says that Gratian’s Decretum bars and repudiates torture, citing C. 15 q. 6. 5. Kenneth Pennington, “Torture and Fear: Enemies of Justice,” Rivista Internazionale di Diritto Comune, 19 (2008), 203–42, here 216–17, repeated in “Torture in the Ius commune,” Mélanges en l’honneur d’Anne Lefebvre-Teillard, ed. Bernard d’Alteroche, Florence DemoulinAuzary, Olivier Descamps, and Franck Roumy (Paris, 2009), pp. 813–38, here p. 821. 6. Piero Fiorelli, La tortura giudiziaria nel diritto comune, 2 vols. (Milan, 1953–54), 1:76, says that Gratian generalized his dictum from the canon: “Graziano, generalizzando il principio continuto in una decretale pseudoisidoriana da lui accolta, fissa in un suo dictum la norma fondamentale ‘quod … confessio cruciatibus extorquenda non sit.’” Some scholars, however, maintain that Gratian allowed torture in certain circumstances, because several of his canons say so; see, for example, Edward Peters, Torture (New York, 1985), pp. 52–53. 7. Gratian, Decretum, C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero, introd. to chapter 1, Si sacerdotibus (CIC 1:754). 8. Ibid., C. 15 q. 5 c. 2 Presbiter (CIC 1:754): the canon ends thus: “sola ergo spontanea confessio … clericum privat proprio gradu” (“therefore only a spontaneous confession deprives a cleric of his rank”). HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 757 “[It is asked] if his confession should be extorted by torture.”9 So we must conclude that Gratian’s answer is no, a bishop cannot use torture to obtain a confession from a priest in the circumstances described in the cause—a conclusion that fits the rubric that he gives to Si sacerdotibus: “The confession of ministers should not be extorted, but spontaneous.”10 There was, however, a problem for Gratian’s interpreters: the canon itself, Si sacerdotibus, did not fit the case. (We know now that it is taken from one of the pseudo-decretals of “Isidore”—that is, the pseudonymous Isidorus Mercator, who created a Pseudo-Pope Alexander for the occasion.11) The text does not deal with a judge’s efforts to extract incriminating facts or admissions from a defendant, but rather concerns kidnappers of clergy who coerce concessions of property or statements of allegiance from their victims, not only by violence but also by fear or fraud; “Pope Alexander” decrees that such concessions have no binding force.12 In keeping with this line of thought, Deutero-Gratian added another canon, Auctoritatem, in which Pope Nicholas I nullifies oaths of persons who were “coerced by the violence of the impious.”13 Then he included another three canons showing papal power to absolve subjects of unworthy rulers from their oaths of allegiance.14 9. Ibid., C. 15, initial dictum (G1, CIC 1:744). Quotations: “tandem episcopus questionibus confessionem extorquet”; “[Queritur] an ejus confessio cruciatibus sit extorquenda.” 10. Ibid., C. 15 q. 6 rubric to c. 1 Si sacerdotibus: “Ministrorum confessio non sit extorta, sed spontanea” (G1). Note that in CJC 1:1439–40, the opening words of this canon are given as Si quandoque a sacerdotibus, and the same is true in Richter’s edition (reprod. in PL 187, here col. 981); see CIC 1:xxv, 754-55. 11. The pseudo-decretals have traditionally been dated to the late 840s; see Horst Fuhrmann, “The Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals,” in Detlev Jasper and Horst Fuhrmann, Papal Letters in the Early Middle Ages, ed. Wilfried Hartmann and Kenneth Pennington, [History of Medieval Canon Law], (Washington, DC, 2001), pp. 135–95; CIC 1:xxv, 754–55; PL 130:89–93. But they have recently been associated with the monastery of Corbie and dated to the 830s: see Clara Harder, Pseudoisidor und das Papsttum: Function und Bedeutung des apostolischen Stuhls in den pseudoisidorischen Fälschungen (Cologne, 2014), and the review of Eric Knibbs, The Medieval Review, http://scholarworks.iu.edu/journals/index.php/tmr/article/ view/19714/25799. Calling the forger(s) “Pseudo-Isidore,” which goes back to David Blondell in 1628, is misleading, from the viewpoint of modern usage; it is like calling Mark Twain “Pseudo-Mark” or Benedictus Levita (Isidore’s fellow forger) “Pseudo-Benedict.” It suggests that the author was pretending to be a famous Isidore, namely, St. Isidore of Seville—which is what this article’s author first assumed, until, many years later, he was set straight. It is the case, however, that medieval authors like Huguccio and Teutonicus believed that he was indeed Isidore of Seville (Fuhrmann, p. 137). 12. Decretum, C. 15 q. 6 c. 1 Si sacerdotibus (G1, CIC 1:754–55). 13. Ibid., c. 2 Auctoritatem (G2, CIC 1:755). Quotation: “coacti inpiorum violentia.” 14. Ibid., cc. 3–5 (G2, CIC 1:756). 758 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS The greatest of the early commentators on the Decretum, Huguccio,15 says in his Summa Decreti (c. 1190) at Quod vero confessio, “Here is entitled the sixth question, which is, whether a confession is to be extorted by torments.”16 Huguccio goes on to discuss the circumstances in which torture is indeed allowable. In contrast, John of Phintona (second half of the thirteenth century), whose divisio textus is given in the apparatus to the 1582 Decretum, presents a quite different view. He says that the first part of the question, taken up in the first two canons (Si sacerdotibus and Auctoritatem), asserts that an extorted confession is not prejudicial to the confessant.17 Well, we must answer, in light of the Ordinary Gloss to Quod autem (analyzed later), sometimes such a confession is indeed prejudicial (when it is done rightly, in court), and sometimes it is not (when it is done illegally, as in these two canons). The casus or summary for Quod vero confessio, originally by Benencasa Aretinus who was writing shortly after Huguccio,18 states the substance of Question 6: “Can a confession be extorted?” But, in keeping with Huguccio’s comment, it clearly understands the question to entail “whether torture can be licitly used”—to which it responds: yes, witnesses of base condition can be tortured, but an accuser is not to be tortured by a judge, except in the case of a crimen exceptum (an exceptional crime), where any 15. Huguccio should not be identified with the grammarian Huguccio of Pisa, author of the dictionary Derivationes that was produced in Bologna in the 1160s. See Wolfgang P. Müller in The History of Canon Law in the Classical Period, 1140–1234: From Gratian to the Decretals of Pope Gregory IX, ed. Wilfried Hartmann and Kenneth Pennington (Washington, DC, 2008), chapter 5, “The Decretists: The Italian School,” by Pennington and Müller, pp. 142–48. I have not consulted any of the earlier decretists on the subject of torture, except for Rufinus, who finished his Summa on the Decretum around 1164 (Pennington and Müller, “Decretists,” p. 135). See Rufinus, Summa Decretorum, ed. Heinrich Singer (Paderborn, 1902, repr. Aalen, 1963). 16. “Hic intitulatur sexta questio, scilicet, an confessio cruciatibus sit extorquenda”: Huguccio, Summa Decreti: Admont, Stiftsbibliothek, MS 7 (folio numbers not visible on the Hill Monastic Library microfilm copy), ad C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero. This manuscript is used as the text throughout this article, sometimes emended (with brackets) from Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Vat. lat. 2280 (this passage comes on fol. 210ra). 17. CJC 1:1439: “Quod vero: Hec questio dividitur in duas partes, in quarum prima dicitur quod confessio extorta non prejudicat.” For John of Phintona and other medieval canonists (to 1500), see Kenneth Pennington’s Web page, “Medieval and Early Modern Jurists: A Bio-Bibliographical Listing,” http://faculty.cua.edu/Pennington/biobibl.htm. For later canonists, see Johann Friedrich von Schulte, Die Geschichte der Quellen und Literatur des canonischen Rechts, 3 vols. in 2 (Stuttgart, 1875–80). 18. The various casus of the Decretum by Benencasa Aretinus (or Benincasa Senensis) as they appear in the 1582 edition of Gratian were revised by Bartholomew Brixiensis, c. 1240. HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 759 accuser, defendant, and witness can be tortured. Otherwise, truth is not to be extracted from a defendant (a reo) by torments, as it says in Si sacerdotibus, unless presumption is against him; all this is explained in the Ordinary Gloss.19 However, the Ordinary Gloss explains that Si sacerdotibus does not concern defendants (rei), but rather captives of hostile forces. The Ordinary Gloss to Gratian as given in the Gregorian edition is the work of Bartholomew Brixiensis (i.e., of Brescia), finished c. 1240– 45. It consists mainly of the gloss of John Zemeke, called Teutonicus, produced around 1215.20 Teutonicus’s gloss is largely taken from Huguccio, as can be seen in the gloss on Quod vero confessio given in modern notation in table 1. Huguccio (followed by the Ordinary Gloss) immediately makes the point (see table 1, no. 1) that Si sacerdotibus and the canon following do not concern official suspects or defendants in a court proceeding but, rather, extrajudicial and illegal situations. He says, “A confession is never to be extorted by an adversary or non-judge, which is the case the first and second chapters speak of.” Teutonicus is less clear, since he leaves out “non-judge.” But from the text that follows, it is clear that the adversary indicated could not be a judge. As previously mentioned, Si sacerdotibus deals with declarations that are obtained from priests and other church authorities by fear, fraud, or 19. Ibid. (the citations are regularized): “Casus: Hic intitulatur sexta questio, qua queritur an confessio sit cruciatibus extorquenda. Et respondetur quod viles testes possunt cruciari, ut C. 5 q. 6 c. 1 Quia juxta §1 Presbiteri [G2, CIC 1:552], et C. 2 q. 1 c. 7 Imprimis §13 Quales [G2, CIC 1:442]. Accusator vero non est cruciandus a judice, nisi in crimine excepto, propter inopiam probationum, vel ne falsitatem dicat, Cod. 9.8.3, ubi quilibet accusator et reus et testis torquetur. Alias, a reo veritas non est cruciatibus eruenda, ut infra, eadem, cap. 1 [i.e., Si sacerdotibus], nisi sit presumptio contra eum, ut C. 23 q. 5 c. 1 Circumcelliones [G1, CIC 1:928–29]. De hoc satis notatur in summa hujus questionis” (“Here is titled the sixth question, where it is queried whether a confession is to be extorted with torture. And the answer is that base witnesses can be tortured. . . . But an accuser is not to be tortured by a judge except in an excepted crime, when there is lack of proof, or to prevent false responses; and here any accuser, defendant, or witness can be tortured. Otherwise, the truth is not to be extracted from a defendant by torture…, unless the presumption is against him. . . . This is sufficiently treated in the summary [i.e., gloss] of this question”). For excepted crimes, see Edward Peters, “Crimen exceptum: The History of an Idea,” Proceedings of the Tenth International Congress of Medieval Canon Law, ed. Kenneth Pennington, Stanley Chodorow, and Keith H. Kendall, [Monumenta iuris canonici, Series C: Subsidia (MICS), vol. 11], (Vatican City, 2001), pp. 137–94. 20. Teutonicus’s gloss can be found in Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Vat. lat. 1367, untouched by Brixiensis; the comment on Quod vero is on fol. 154. Ordinary Gloss=Teutonicus + Brixiensis, CJC 1:1439 [1] Et quidem, ab adversario vel a non judice numquam est extorquenda, quo casu loquuntur primum et secundum capitulum (referring to the following canons in this question, Si sacerdotibus and Auctoritatem). [1] Ab adversario numquam est extorquenda confessio cruciatibus, ut infra, eadem, c. 1 et 2. [2] A judice vero licite extorquetur confessio tormentis et questionibus; nam a judice quandoque torquetur testis, quandoque reus, quandoque accusator. [2] Sed a judice licite extorquetur confessio tormentis et questionibus. Nam a judice quandoque torquetur testis, quandoque reus, quandoque accusator. [3] Testis torquetur tam in causa civili quam in causa criminali, puta est servus. Liber etiam testis torquetur tam in hac quam in illa causa, puta est criminosus sponte confitens; eciam infamis, eciam vilis et ignobilis vel obscurus et ignotus. Tales non recipiuntur ad testimonium sine questione, etsi sint clerici, ut C. 4. q. 3 c. 3 Si testes §16 Si res exigit, citing in §17 Si autem ea conditio (Dig. 22.5.21§2) [G2] et C. 5 q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui [G1], et C. 5 q. 6 c. 3 Quia juxta §1 Presbiteri (=Cod. 1.3.8) [G2], et C. 2 q. 1 c. 7 Imprimis §13 Quales [G2] et Nov. 90 pref. § Nos igitur, et c. 2 Et licet, et c. 5 Et quoniam §1 Hec omnia, et Cod. 9.22.21 Si quis decurio. Torquetur et libera persona si vacillat in testimonio, ut Dig. 48.18.15 Ex libero. [3] Testis torquetur tam in civili quam in criminali, ut si est servus vel vilis persona, et etiam si sit liber et sit criminosus et infamis, vel obscurus vel ignotus. Tales enim non recipiuntur ad testimonium sine questionibus, licet sint clerici, C. 4 q. 3 etc., Si res exigit et C. 5 q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui, et C. 5 q. 6 c. 3 Quia juxta §1 Presbiteri (=Cod. 1.3.8), et C. 2 q. 1 c. 7 Imprimis §13 Quales et Nov. 90 pref. § Nos igitur, et c. 2 Et licet, et c. 5 Et quoniam §1 Hec omnia, et Cod. 9.22.21 Si quis decurio. Torquetur etiam libera persona, licet non sit vilis, dum tamen vacillet in testimonia, ut Dig. 48.18.15 Ex libero; JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS Huguccio on C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero confessio 760 TABLE 1. Huguccio and the Ordinary Gloss on C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero Huguccio on C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero confessio Ordinary Gloss=Teutonicus + Brixiensis, CJC 1:1439 [Brixiensis:] X 5.37.8 Super his (only concerns vacillation, not torture)]. [4] Item reus quandoque torquetur, licet raro, scilicet cum est suspectus, et non potest alias res probari, maxime si est vilis persona, et hoc in civili causa, ut C. 14 q. 6 c. 1 Si res aliena; similiter in criminali torquetur, ut C. 23 q. 5. c. 1 Circumcelliones. [5] Actor vero in civili causa numquam torquetur, sed accusator in causa criminali quandoque torquetur, ut in causa lese majestatis, scilicet cum crimen per alia non plene probatur, ut Cod. 9.8.3 Si quis alicui. Sunt ergo in hoc casu duo specialia in crimine lese majestatis. In aliis torquetur quandoque reus, quandoque testis, et numquam accusator, sed in crimine majestatis torquetur et accusator, ut dictum est. Item in aliis non torquentur nisi viles, infames, criminosi, et hujusmodi, perraro nobiles, sed in crimine lese majestatis torquetur quandoque et testis et accusator et reus, quicumque et quantumcumque nobiles, vel in majore dignitate constitutus; nec auditur ibi volens opponere exceptionem quod non debeat torqueri, quod non contingit in aliis criminibus, ut C. 6 q. 1 dictum Porro ante cap. 23, et cap. 23 Nullus omnino (=Cod. 9.8.4) [G2]. [5] Actor vero in civili causa numquam torquetur, sed accusator in criminali causa quandoque torquetur, ut in crimine lese majestatis, cum criminaliter non potest probari, ut Cod. 9.8.3 Si quis alicui. Ibi enim qualicumque dignitate sit preditus, nullo privilegio se potest tueri, sive sit accusator, sive reus vel testis, 761 ut C. 6 q. 1 dictum Porro ante cap. 23, et lex Nullus omnino (Cod. 9.8.4). [As the gloss stands in the 1582 edition, Teutonicus’s “l. (=lex) Nullus” is taken to mean “50 Nullus,” i.e., referring to a chapter in Gratian’s Dist. 50 (none such exists).] HENRY ANSGAR KELLY [4] Reus etiam, licet raro, torquetur, tantum si est suspectus, et non potest ei probari certum, presertim si est vilis persona, et hoc in civili causa, ut C. 14 q. 6 c. 1 Si res aliena [G1], et in criminali, ut C. 23 q. 5. c. 1 Circumcelliones [G1] 762 J UDICIAL T ORTURE IN C ANON L AW AND C HURCH T RIBUNALS force.21 Huguccio has a statement to this effect explaining the canon;22 the casus in the apparatus gives a similar explanation.23 Huguccio then makes a cover-statement about judicial torture (see table 1, no. 2): Judges can use torture on witnesses, defendants, or accusers at certain times.24 Torture of Court Witnesses In regard to witnesses (table 1, no. 3), those who are slaves are tortured in civil as well as criminal cases; so are free persons who are of base condition or unknown, or if they are known criminals or tainted with infamy. Huguccio specifies that these conditions apply even to criminal witnesses who volunteer a confession. In fact, he says, the testimony of all such persons is not admitted without torture. The first canon that Huguccio cites to back up these statements is a law from the Digest added by Deutero-Gratian, to the effect that the testimony of a gladiator or similar witness cannot be accepted without torture.25 The next canon he cites is another Isidorian pseudo-decretal, Illi 21. Decretum C. 15 q. 6 c. 1 Si sacerdotibus (G1, CIC 1:754): “Si sacerdotibus vel auctoribus ecclesie quedam scripture quoquo modo per metum aut fraudem aut per vim extorte fuerint,” etc. 22. Huguccio ad C. 15 q. 6 c. 1 Si sacerdotibus: “Ut patet ex dictis superius, hoc capitulum loquitur de confessione extorta ab adversariis vel non judicibus, et dicitur hic quod talis confessio non prejudicat, sive sit facta de rebus dandis et non repetendis, sive de heresi vel secta aliqua sequenda vel secuta, sive de alia causa justa vel injusta, sive talis confessio sit firmata scriptura sive juramento” (“As is clear from the above, this chapter speaks of a confession extorted by adversaries or by non-judges, and says here that such a confession has no legal force, whether concerning things bestowed and not to be given back, or belonging to a heresy or sect, now or in the past, or dealing with other just or unjust matters; or whether such a confession was confirmed by signature or oath”). 23. Casus to Si sacerdotibus (CJC 1:1440): “significatum fuit Alexandro Pape quod quidam capiebant episcopos vel sacerdotes vel auctores ecclesiarum, vel ab eis per metum vel fraudem aut per vim confessiones extorquebant in scriptis, ut sic suis bonis eorum spoliarent,” etc. (“It was reported to Pope Alexander that certain persons were holding bishops or priests or heads of churches captive, or were extorting confessions from them by fear or fraud or force, to despoil them thereby of their goods,” etc.). 24. This statement, as it appears in the Ordinary Gloss, is cited by Vasil Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher: Papsturkunden und juristische Gutachten aus dem 13. Jahrhundert, mit Edition des Consilium von Guido Fulcodii (Wiesbaden, 2014), p. 301. 25. Decretum C. 4 q. 3 c. 3 Si testes, §16, Si res exigit, referring to what Friedberg designates as §17 (CIC 1:539), Si autem ea conditio (=Dig. 22.5.21 §2) [G2]: “Si autem ea conditio rei sit ubi arenarium testem vel similem personam admittere cogimur, sine tormento testimonio ejus credendum non est” (“But if the condition of the defendant is such that we H ENRY ANSGAR KELLY 763 qui, allegedly a letter from Eusebius to the bishops of Gaul, which says that when witnesses are under suspicion because of the state of their Catholic faith or because of enmity, a religious torturer (religiosus tortor) should extract the truth from them by various torments.26 The term religiosus receives much commentary.27 (The glosses are recorded in the notes,28 and are forced to admit someone from the arena or a similar person, his testimony is not to be believed without torture”). 26. Decretum C. 5. q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui (G1, CIC 1:550): “Illi qui aut in fide catholica aut inimicitia suspecti sunt ad pulsationem episcoporum non admittantur. Nec illi qui aliorum sponte crimina confitentur. Et ideo replicanda sollicite est veritas quam sponte prolata in illis habere vox non potest. Hanc diversis cruciatibus e latebris suis religiosus tortor exigere debet, ut dum penis corpora subjiciuntur que gesta sunt fideliter et veraciter exquirantur” (“Those who are suspect in the Catholic faith or because of enmity are not to be admitted to the removal of bishops. The same is true of those who voluntarily confess the crimes of others. And therefore when the truth cannot be established in such persons with voluntarily offered testimony, it must be diligently sought again. A religious torturer should extract this truth from its hiding places by means of various torments, so that while bodies are subjected to pain the deeds that occurred may be uncovered faithfully and truthfully”). 27. The “Roman Correctors” of the Gregorian edition mistakenly claim that the original reading was rigorosus (a point ignored by Friedberg). However, the text reads religiosus tortor in Isidore (PL 130:226A), as does the source of the passage, in the Liber apologeticus of Magnus Felix Ennodius (PL 63:191B). But when the Isidorian letter was edited as a genuine epistle of Eusebius, the phrase was changed to rigorosus tortor (PL 7:1102A), and the celebrated canonist Antonio Agustín, who actively worked with the Correctors, claimed that the letter was mendaciously (mendose) rendered by Gratian (PL 96:1086AB). On Agustín, see Mary E. Sommar, The Correctores Romani: Gratian’s Decretum and the Counter-Reformation Humanists (Zurich, 2009), pp. 15–19. 28. Both glosses on religiosus in the Ordinary Gloss (OG) are in Teutonicus. Here is the first: OG to Decretum C. 5. q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui s.v. religiosus (CJC 1:1046): Sed qualiter exercet religiosus vir causam sanguinis, contra illud, C. 23 q. 8 c. 30 His a quibus [G1, CIC 1:964]? Sed dic quod ecclesiasticus judex potest virga punire, ut C. 23 q. 5 c. 1 Circumcelliones [G1]; et hoc non est judicium sanguinis. Sed hic facit questiones in causa civili, quod fieri licet in defectum probationum, Dig. 48.18 lex Divus [cf. c. 1 §§5, 17, 22], et etiam in ecclesiastica criminali, C. 2 q. 1 c. 7 Imprimis, in finali, §13 Quales autem testes [G2, CIC 1:442]. Quidam etiam ex hoc loco dicunt viles contra clericos generaliter admitti cum tormentis; sed falsum est, quia tantum in exceptis criminibus admittuntur viles, ut supra, C. 4 q. 3 c. 3 Si testes §17 Si autem ea conditio (=Dig. 22.5.21 §2) [G2, CIC 1:539]. (But how can a religious man carry out a “case of blood,” contrary to the rule of His a quibus [no blood to be shed by clerics]? Respond thus: that an ecclesiastical judge can punish with a rod (see Circumcelliones); and this is not a judgment of blood. Supporting this are tortures in civil cases, allowable when there is a deficiency of evidence (see Divus); and also in an ecclesiastical criminal case (see Imprimis). Some say from this that base witnesses are as a general rule admitted against clerics, with torture; but this is false, since they are eligible only in excepted crimes.) Here is the second gloss (in Teutonicus, it comes after the gloss on exigere): 764 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS most of the material they cover will be discussed later.) A further gloss cites a decretal of Pope Celestine III (1191–98) as allowing a prelate to punish those under him corporally, as does the canon Cum beatus in Gratian.29 There follows an extensive comment in the Ordinary Gloss, which is entirely missing in Teutonicus, so undoubtedly is by Brixiensis. It begins by stating that the canon refers only to those who confess spontaneously, since an enemy cannot be a witness in any crime—although sometimes an enemy can be tortured at the discretion of the judge. It goes on to doubt that clerics should be subjected to blows in obtaining their testimony and concludes by noting that some say that minor, but not major, clerics can be tortured.30 At this point, the Roman editors add a note in the margin from Archdeacon’s Rosary, reporting Huguccio’s comment that when clerics spontaneously recount the crimes of others, they are subjected to blows if the case demands that their testimony be received.31 OG to Decretum C. 5. q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui s.v. religiosus (CJC 1:1045–46): religiosus: Istud obtinet in exceptis criminibus, in crimine lese majestatis, ubi accusator torquetur, ut C. 6 q. 1 dictum Verum a.c. 22 [G1, CIC 1:559–60], Cod. 9.8.4 Nullus omnino, in finali. Sed in civili causa numquam torquetur aliquis, nisi in defectum probationum, ut in Nov. 90.1 Sancimus. Vel dic quod prima pars loquitur de accusatore, secunda de teste. Viles enim testes bene torquentur in exceptis criminibus, ut C. 4 q. 3 c. 3 Si testes § 17 Si autem ea (=Dig. 22.5.21 §2) [G2, CIC 1:539]. (This is true in excepted crimes, the crime of lese-majesty, where an accuser can be tortured . . . But in a civil case no one is tortured except when proofs are deficient. . . . Or, say that the first part speaks of an accuser, the second of a witness. For base witnesses are certainly tortured in excepted crimes.) 29. OG to Decretum C. 5. q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui s.v. exigere (CJC 1:1046): “non per se, sed per alios, ut D. 96 [recte 86] c. 25 Non liceat [G2, CIC 1:304]. Per clericos autem, non per laicos, Extra, De sen. Excom., Universitatis [Celestine III: Compilatio II 5.18.13, also in Decretales Gregorii IX (=Liber Extra=X) 5.39.24, CIC 2:897]. Habes ergo hic quod prelatus potest subditos corporaliter punire, ut D. 45 c. 8 Cum beatus [G2, CIC 1:162–63].” 30. OG to Decretum C. 5. q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui s.v. ut dum (Brixiensis) (CJC 1:1046): “Hoc non refertur ad omnia predicta, sed tantum ad illos qui sponte confitentur. Inimicus enim non potest esse testis in aliquo crimine, X 5.3.31 Licet Heli (CIC 2:760–61). Potest tamen dici quod inimicus torqueri quandoque potest; et estimabit judex an adhibebit ei fidem vel non, ut Dig. 48.18.1 §23 Questioni, in finali. Sed utrum clerici debeant subditi verberibus pro testimonio dicendo dubitatur, quod videtur, ut hic, et infra, C. 5 q. 6 c. 1 Quia juxta §1 Presbyteri (=Cod. 1.3.8) [G2], et D. 45 c. 8 Cum beatus [G2]. Dicunt tamen quidam minores clericos posse torqueri, sed non majores.” For the rest of the gloss, see n. 32. 31. CJC 1:1046: Correctores Romani: “Dicit H[uguccio] notandum esse quod clerici sponte aliorum crimina confitentes subjiciuntur verberibus, si res exigat tales recipi in testimonium, ut in hoc cap., Illi qui, et ita ipse notat, D. 45 dictum (Salomon vero) p.c. 8 [G1, CIC 1:163]. Archidiaconus.” The reference is to Guido de Baisio, Archdeacon of Bologna, Rosarium decretorum (1300), who cites many of the glosses of Huguccio omitted by Teutonicus and Brixiensis in the Ordinary Gloss. Used here are the editions of Strasbourg, c. 1473 (missing CC. 5–6) and Venice, 1495. HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 765 The Brixiensis gloss continues by reporting the opinion of some that all suspects (that is, defendants, as opposed to witnesses) can be tortured, since vacillating freemen are tortured, and the Church can correct persons with canes. According to Brixiensis, it is certain from the canon Ante omnia that the lower-level clergy can be beaten for any crime, whereas the higherranking clergy can be so treated only for enormous offenses. But then, referring to the law Presbiteri of the Codex incorporated into the Decretum, he qualifies that even though clerics can be “tortured” (that is, punished) for committing an offense, many believe that they cannot be tortured for their testimony. “Or,” Brixiensis concludes, “we may say that suspected clerics can be tortured, but only by the bishop, not by a layman.”32 Note that the corporal punishment of subjects by superiors for offenses committed, usually understood to need no proof since they are flagrantia, is regularly compared to the use of similar painful techniques to obtain testimony or confession. In Huguccio’s gloss on Quod vero, the next thing he cites (table 1, no. 3) is the law Presbiteri for its provision that priests should testify without the application of torture (citra injuriam questionum), as long as they do not “simulate falsehoods.”33 Teutonicus’s Ordinary Gloss on this law as it appears in Gratian has an addendum by Brixiensis, who cites Huguccio as specifying that it applies to priests of good reputation; but Brixiensis disagrees. He goes on to say that it follows from this law that the lower-ranking clergy can be tortured in the presence of the bishop, but not by a layman, although he has his doubts about this as well.34 Imprimis, next cited by Huguccio, is a selection from Gregory the Great, expanded by Deutero-Gratian. At the end, Gregory states that the 32. OG v. ut dum (Brixiensis), continued: “Alii dicunt omnes suspectos posse torqueri, nam et liberi vacillantes torquentur, ut X 5.1.16 Super his; Dig. 48.18.10 De minore. Et Ecclesia virgis potest aliquos corrigere, C. 24 [recte 23] q. 5 c. 1 Circumcelliones [G1]. Hoc certum est, quod minores clerici indistincte pro quolibet crimine verberibus subjiciuntur, ut D. 35 c. 9 Ante omnia [G2, CIC 1:133]. Sed majore[s] non, nisi pro enormibus, ut D. 45, in summa [d. Salomon vero p.c. 8, G1, CIC 1:163]. Tamen licet clerici torqueantur pro delicto, non tamen pro testimonio dicendo, secundum plerosque, qui dicunt non tenere istam legem, infra, C. 5 q. 6 c. 1 Quia juxta §1 Presbiteri (=Cod. 1.3.8) [G2, CIC 1:552]. Vel, dic quod clerici suspecti possunt torqueri, non a laico, sed ab episcopo.” 33. Decretum, C. 5 q. 6 c. 3 Quia juxta §1 Presbyteri (=Cod. 1.3.8) (G2, CIC 1:552). 34. OG v. Presbiteri (not in Teutonicus, fol. 108): “bone opinionis, secundum H[ugucionem], [citing Illi qui], sed hoc non placet. Minores ergo clerici possunt coram episcopo torqueri, non a laico; vel non credo tenere quod hic dicitur” (“[The priests must be] ‘of good reputation,’ according to Huguccio, . . . but this is not acceptable. Therefore, minor clerics can be tortured in the bishop’s presence, not by a layman. Or: I do not believe what is said here is valid”). 766 J UDICIAL T ORTURE IN C ANON L AW AND C HURCH T RIBUNALS basest kinds of witnesses are not to be believed without “corporal discussion,” a practice that he says is sanctioned by many laws.35 Finally, Huguccio goes directly to Roman law and cites some passages from the Justinian Novels and the Codex, ending with a provision from the Digest that even a free person is to be tortured if he vacillates in his testimony. Torture of Defendants Next (table 1, no. 4), Huguccio takes up defendants in court, the proper subject of Gratian’s Question 6. According to Huguccio, a defendant can be tortured, although it should rarely happen and only occur if there are suspicions against the accused and if nothing can be proved with certainty—and especially if the person is of base condition.36 This is true in civil cases, he says, as can be observed in the canon Si res aliena, where St. Augustine sees nothing wrong with roughing up a suspect if there is no way of recovering the goods that he stole; it can serve as a proleptic punishment for his offense37—even though his guilt for the offense cannot be proved. It also holds true in criminal cases, as can be seen in the canon Circumcelliones, in another excerpt from Augustine. Augustine commends a judge for using mild methods of getting confessions—namely, canings or whippings, employed even by schoolmasters and parents, and also by bishops in their court proceedings—rather than racking, clawing, and burning; he recommends that the judge be similarly mild in meting out punishments.38 35. Decretum C. 2 q. 1 c. 7 Imprimis §13 Quales: “Plurimae leges … etiam illud sanciunt ut villissimis testibus sine corporali discussione credi non debeat” (G2, CIC 1:442; Gregory I, Epist. 13.45, PL 77:1300B). 36. Huguccio on C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero concerning defendants (see table 1, no. 4): “Reus etiam, licet raro, torquetur, tantum si est suspectus, et non potest ei probari certum, presertim si est vilis persona, et hoc in civili causa, ut C. 14 q. 6 c. 1 Si res aliena [G1], et in criminali, ut C. 23 q. 5. c. 1 Circumcelliones [G1].” 37. Decretum C. 14 q. 6 c. 1 Si res aliena (G1, CIC 1:742–43; cf. Augustine, epistle 153.6.20, PL 33:662): “Ubi quidem si aliquos sustinet cruciatus repente [Corr. Rom. emend to “a repetente”], dum existimatur habere quod reddat, non est iniquitas, quia, si non est unde reddat ablatam pecuniam, tamen, dum eam per molestias corporales reddere compellitur, peccati quo male ablata est penas luit” (“But if he should sustain some torments briskly [Aug.: from the asker], it is no evil, because, if there is no way to return the stolen money, still, while he is compelled by corporal pains to return it, he suffers punishment for the sin of wrongly taking it”). 38. Decretum C. 23 q. 5 c. 1 Circumcelliones (G1, CIC 1:928–29): “Noli perdere paternam diligentiam quam in ipsa inquisitione servasti, quando tantorum scelerum confessionem non extendendo eculeo, non sulcantibus ungulis, non urentibus flammis, sed virgarum verberibus eruisti, qui modus cohercionis et a magistris artium liberalium et ab ipsis parentibus adhibetur, ut sepe etiam in judiciis ab episcopis solet haberi. Noli ergo atrocius vindicare quod H ENRY A NSGAR K ELLY 767 At this point Huguccio could have answered Gratian’s question about whether torture is justified in his case of the priest accused of a killing or in similar cases. His answer would have been: Usually not, but in some circumstances it is called for.39 As we will see, the circumstances justifying torture are called presumptiones, or, in the jurisprudence of civil law, indicia, that is, “indications” or “evidences.” Torture of Accusers, Witnesses, and Defendants in Cases of Treason (and Other Excepted Crimes) In the last part of his gloss (table 1, no. 5), Huguccio says that plaintiffs in civil cases are never tortured, but an accuser in a criminal case is sometimes tortured—for instance, in a matter of lese-majesty (treason), when the crime cannot be fully proved in any other way, as provided in the Codex, in the law Si quis alicui. He explains that torture is one of two unusual measures in such cases: There are, therefore, two special procedures in such a case dealing with the crime of lese-majesty. In other kinds of criminal cases, the defendant is tortured at times, and sometimes witnesses, but never the accuser. But in the crime of lese-majesty, the accuser is also tortured, as I have just said. Secondly, with other crimes, only base, infamous, criminous, and suchlike persons are tortured, and very rarely the noble classes, but in the crime of lese-majesty witness, accuser, and defendant are tortured at times, no matter who or how noble they are, or of whatever dignity. And in such cases, objections that such persons should not be tortured are not admitted, which does not happen in the case of other crimes.40 lenius [invenisti]. Inquirendi quam puniendi major necessitas est. Ad hoc enim et mitissimi homines facinus admissum [lege occultatum] diligenter atque instanter examinare debent, ut quibus parcant inveniant” (“Do not lose the fatherly concern that you preserved in the inquisition itself, when you elicited a confession of such great crimes not with the stretching rack, not with furrowing claws, not with burning flames, but with the blows of rods, a type of coercion used even by masters of the liberal arts and by parents themselves, and often also by bishops in their court proceedings,” etc.). Corrected by the Roman editors from Augustine, epist. 133; see PL 33:509– 10). For the opinion of canonists on beating as punishment, see Henry Ansgar Kelly, “Medieval Laws and Views on Wife-Beating,” Proceedings of the Tenth International Congress, ed. Pennington et al., pp. 985–1001. For a brief general history, see G. Geltner, Flogging Others: Corporal Punishment and Cultural Identity from Antiquity to the Present (Amsterdam, 2014). 39. In contrast, Rufinus cites Circumcelliones only for its recommendation of using lighter tortures for witnesses or accusers, to avoid scandal; commenting on C. 5 q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui (Summa, p. 279). In his comment on C. 15 q. 6 Quod vero (p. 349), he says the defendants are not to be tortured, unless they are servi, except in certain cases dealt with in the Codex and Digest. 40. Huguccio on Quod vero (table 1, no. 5): “Sunt ergo in hoc casu duo specialia in crimine lese majestatis. In aliis torquetur quandoque reus, quandoque testis, et numquam 768 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS To prove the second point, Huguccio cites Deutero-Gratian’s dictum Porro, introducing the law Nullus omnino from the Codex. Although the law deals with lese-majesty, Deutero-Gratian says that the crime of simony is equivalent.41 Gratian himself makes this point in Question 3 of Cause 15,42 where, unusually for him, he draws directly on Roman law.43 Heresy came to have the same exceptional status as lese-majesty, as in DeuteroGratian’s discussion about witnesses who have criminal records or are tainted with infamy being able to accuse “those who have orbited out of the faith,” for such is the gravity of the offense.44 In Vergentis in senium, issued in 1199, Pope Innocent III declares heresy to be a graver crime than lesemajesty.45 Huguccio himself does not allude to the category of excepted crime but only says that there are some crimes, like treason, in which even the accuser can be tortured. The casus to Quod vero speaks of excepted crime, probably as it was revised by Brixiensis. Teutonicus, in glossing religiosus tortor, uses the expression for treason, without adding that simony and heresy also rank as worthy of torture.46 A reader might think that treason could be tried only in a secular court, but as will be seen in the case of Bernard Delicios, treason was one of the charges in a papally commissioned ecclesiastical trial. Torture in the Liber Extra and Liber Sextus The Liber Extra, produced for Gregory IX in 1234 by Raymond of Pennafort, does not noticeably take up the subject of torture, except for a decretal of Alexander III in which the pope says he directed judges to use tortures and accusator, sed in crimine majestatis torquetur et accusator, ut dictum est. Item in aliis non torquentur nisi viles, infames, criminosi, et hujusmodi, perraro nobiles, sed in crimine lese majestatis torquetur quandoque et testis et accusator et reus, quicumque et quantumcumque nobiles, vel in majore dignitate constitutus; nec auditur ibi volens opponere exceptionem quod non debeat torqueri, quod non contingit in aliis criminibus.” 41. Decretum C. 6 q. 1, dictum Porro ante c. 23 Nullus omnino (Cod. 9.8.4) (G2, CIC 1:560): “Porro symonie accusatio ad instar lese majestatis procedere debet.” 42. Decretum C. 15 q. 3 c. 4 Sane quisque = Cod. 1.3.30 §§5–6 (G1, CIC 1:752). 43. Winroth, Making, pp. 146–53. 44. Decretum C. 2 q. 6 dictum Huic oppositioni ante c. 23 Alieni erroris (G2, CIC 1:488). 45. Innocent III, X 5.7.10 Vergentis in senium (CIC 2:782–83). On lese-majesty itself, see V. Piergiovanni, “La lesa maestà nella canonistica fino ad Uguccione,” Materiali per una storia della cultura giuridica, 2 (1972) 55–88. 46. See n. 28. HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 769 chains for forcing a culprit to hand over pilfered funds, a statement much stronger in the pope’s original words.47 This decretal appeared in the first collection of decretals, Compilatio I; Tancred of Bologna, in his commentary around 1220, says, “Note that suspects are to be tortured and detained in chains and afflicted with or subjected to blows,”48 a statement repeated in Bernard of Parma’s Ordinary Gloss to the Liber Extra (c. 1266)49 and by Cardinal Hostiensis (c. 1271), who also cautions moderation.50 In addition, one of the regulae juris at the end of book 5, Cum in contemplatione, directs that there should be no torture at the beginning of court cases.51 In commenting on this rule in his Novella (c. 1338), John Andrew cites the canon Circumcelliones (dealing with the torture of defendants) and says that, according to Huguccio, torture should be moderate in the ecclesiastical forum, without the sort of methods sometimes employed 47. Alexander III, X 3.16.1 Gravis (CIC 2:517, with Pennafort’s cuts rendered in italics): “Nam et nos ipsi judicibus dedimus in mandatis ut illum iniquum sub duris questionibus ad rationem ponant, et etiam, si oportuerit, vinculis macerent alligatum et affligant, ut dictam pecuniam reddere compellatur” (“For in addition we ourselves gave orders in our mandate to the judges to subject that miscreant to harsh tortures, in accord with reason, and also, if called for, to macerate and afflict him bound with chains, to compel him to return the said money”). 48. Tancred, gloss to 1 Comp. 3.14.2 (=X 3.16.1) Gravis, cited by Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, 301n231. 49. OG to X 3.16.1 Gravis, s.v. questionibus (CJC 2:1120), citing canons of Gratian, including Circumcelliones and Illi qui. On torturing witnesses in a bishop’s court, see OG to X 2.1.4 At si clerici s.v. legitima probatione: “In absentia judicis testes tales non sunt recipiendi, sed tantum in presentia judicis, ut si res exegerit, tormentis subjiciantur” (“Such witnesses are not to be summoned in the absence of the judge, but only in the judge’s presence, so that, if the case calls for it, they may be subjected to torture”), citing civil law and Gratian’s Illi qui (CJC 2:524). 50. Hostiensis (Henricus de Segusio/Henry of Susa, Cardinal Bishop of Ostia), In primum-sextum Decretalium librum Commentaria (Venice, 1581; repr. Turin, 1963), 3:56A no. 11: “Sic est argumentum quod suspecti torquendi sunt etiam secundum canones, sed citra periculum corporis, moderate” (“Thus this is an argument that suspects are to be tortured, even according to canons, but moderately, with no danger to the body”). Just before this, s.v. sub questionibus, he says: “verberibus levibus, non transeuntibus in vindictam sanguinis” (“using light blows, not passing into a judgment of blood”). 51. X 5.41.6 Cum in contemplatione (CIC 2:928): “In ipso cause initio non est a questionibus inchoandum.” Here it is attributed to Gregory VII but it actually comes from Gregory I, Epist. 1.6 (PL 77:452A), except that in Gregory I the text is a quaestibus rather than a quaestionibus. Esmein, History, 92, observes that it reproduces a Roman rule with regard to torture, citing Dig. 48.18.1 and Cod. 9.41.8 §1. The summary heading to this rule in Friedberg is mistaken: Tormenta, iudiciis non praecedentibus, inferenda non sunt; the 1582 edition has it right (CJC 2:): Tormenta indiciis non praecedentibus inferenda non sunt: that is, “When there are no indicia, torture is not to be used.” As Fiorelli points out, Tortura, 1:77, both Cum in contemplatione and Gravis were collected in the Breviarium of Bernard of Pavia (1191). 770 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS in secular courts, like the rack or claws and cords (which St. Augustine mentions here in the canon), “but rather rods or switches, or leather whips of the sort that we call scorezate (or correggiate).”52 However, Huguccio does not make this observation concerning Circumcelliones, which appears in a part of the Decretum for which he did not provide commentary,53 but rather pertaining to the religiosus tortor passage in the canon Illi qui; it is a comment omitted by Teutonicus and not restored by the Archdeacon Guy of Baisio in his Rosarium. Huguccio notes in this comment, like Augustine in Circumcelliones, that such beatings resemble those used by schoolmasters and masters of servants. The use of such instruments for torture satisfies the canon His a quibus, which prohibits the clergy from participating in a “judgment of blood.”54 52. Johannes Andreae, commenting on X 5.41.6 Cum in contemplatione (CIC 2:928) in his Novella in Decretales Gregorii IX (Venice, 1581; repr. Turin, 1966), 5:161, no. 3: “Et quod predixi, questionem esse debere moderatam, declarabat Hugutio, dicens quod in ecclesiastico foro non debent fieri tormenta que quandoque fiunt in seculari, cum scilicet subjicitur equuleis, ungulis, fidiculis, et hujusmodi severioribus; sed virgis et scuticis (quas ‘scorezatas’ vocamus) subjici poterunt.” 53. See Wolfgang P. Müller, Huguccio: The Life, Works, and Thought of a Twelfth-Century Jurist (Washington, DC, 1994), p. 75: in Cause 23, he reached only to q. 4 c. 33 and did not comment on Causes 24–26. In many manuscripts, the gap is filled by excerpts from another commentary, called Summa Casinensis (from its presence in a Montecassino manuscript), written c. 1185–86, wrongly called Continuatio prima (it should be termed Supplementum primum). Of the two manuscripts used here, Admont begins the supplementary excerpt only with Cause 24, whereas in Vat. lat. 2280 it extends from where Huguccio left off, fols. 284rb–256ra (this manuscript also includes at the end the commentary of Johannes de Deo on these causes, fols. 371ra–388ra); see Müller, Huguccio, p. 85, and “Decretists,” pp. 152–54. At C. 23 q. 5 c. 1 Circumcelliones v. ab episcopis, fol. 249ra, the Montecassino commentator observes that the canon approves the extortion of confessions by beatings, noting that this canon seems to go against the canons Si sacerdotibus and Auctoritatem: “Contra C. 15 q. 6 cc. 1–2: dicitur quod non debet confessio verberibus extorqueri. Magister Jo[hannes] dicit, hic est contra istos presumptio, ibi non sic. Sed melius est dicere quod hic erat judex, ibi non. Et nota quod hic approbatur confessio extorqueri verberibus” (“This is against Si Sacerdotibus and Auctoritatem, where it is said that a confession should not be extorted by blows. Master John says that here [in Circumcelliones] there is presumption against them, which is not so there. But it is better to say that here there was a judge, and no judge there [in the other canons]. And note that there is approval here for extorting confession by means of blows”). 54. Huguccio, ad C. 5 q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui v. diversis cruciatibus; he refers to C. 23 q. 8 c. 30 His a quibus (G1, CIC 1:964) and says: “Contra: ibi enim dicitur quod clerici non debe[n]t agitare judicium sanguinis nec truncationes membrorum facere vel precipere. Sed non agitur judicium sanguinis vel truncationis [Vat] membrorum. Item in Concilio Urbico, cap. Non licet: contra; ibi enim dicitur quod presbiter vel diaconus non debet stare ubi rei torquentur. Qualiter ergo episcopus erit presens et jubebit hujusmodi testes torqueri et ab eis veritatem cruciatibus extorqueri? Sed hujusmodi testes [Vat] in judicio ecclesiastico subjiciuntur tormentis, non illis severioribus quibus in judicio forensi homines quandoque subjiciuntur, scilicet H ENRY ANSGAR KELLY 771 The only further jus commune, or general law, on torture, appears in the decretal Multorum querela, a decree of the Council of Vienne (1312) that required heresy inquisitors and bishops to confer together when they expose persons to torments or use “hard prisons,” with the pope considering the latter as more suitable to punishment than to safe-keeping.55 This decretal appears in the Clementine Constitutions, made universal law in 1317. It can be reasonably supposed that such coercive imprisonment and tortures, as reported by “the complaint of many,” were being used not only against defendants but also against suspects in the pre-defendant stages of arrest and detention. In sum: no ecclesiastical voice is on record in the canons of the Decretum as saying that torture, even the extreme forms, is forbidden; rather, the usages of Roman civil law are affirmed. Although Augustine in Circumcelliones com- eculeis, ungulis, fidiculis, et hujusmodi, in quo casu intelligitur prefatum capitulum Urbici Concilii, sed verberibus levioribus, virgis scilict et scuticis et corrigiis et hujusmodi, quod non prohibetur fieri vel inhiberi a clericis in hoc casu; nam iste modus cedendi et a magistris liberalium artium in discipulos et a parentibus in filios solet adhiberi, ut [in cap. Circumcelliones et cap. Cum beatus]” (“On the contrary, for there it is said that clerics should not conduct judgments of blood or perform or order amputations of limbs. But [here] no judgment of blood or amputation of members is performed. Likewise in the chapter Non licet of the Urbic Council, it is a contrary case; for it says there that a priest or deacon should not be present when defendants are tortured. How then will a bishop be present and order them to be tortured and the truth to be extorted from them? But such witnesses in the ecclesiastical forum are subjected not to those more severe forms to which persons in the secular forum are sometimes subjected, like racks, claws, cords, and the like, which is how the aforesaid chapter of the Urbic Council is to be understood, but rather by lighter blows, that is, by rods and whips and scourges and so forth, which is not prohibited to be done or forbidden to clerics in such cases; for this kind of lacerating is commonly used both by masters of liberal arts on their students and by parents on their children, as in the canons Circumcelliones and Cum beatus”). Deutero-Gratian refers to the Concilium Urbicum in De cons. D. 2 c. 97 In altari (CIC 1:1352), where the rule in question originally comes from the Council of Autun of 578. 55. Clem. 5.3.1 Multorum querela (CIC 2:1181–82), §1: “Duro tamen tradere carceri sive arcto, qui magis ad penam quam ad custodiam videatur, vel tormentis exponere illos, aut ad sententiam procedere contra eos, episcopus sine inquisitore, aut inquisitor sine episcopo diocesano … non valebit” (“But to commit them to a hard or cramped prison, which seems more fitting to punishment than to custody, or to expose them to torments, or to proceed to sentence against them, the bishop without the inquisitor, or the inquisitor without the bishop … will not be valid”). Jessalyn Bird, “The Wheat and the Tares: Peter the Chanter’s Circle and the Fama-Based Inquest Against Heresy and Criminal Sins, c. 1198–ca. 1235,” Proceedings of the Twelfth International Congress of Medieval Canon Law, Washington, DC, 1–7 August 2004, ed. Uta-Renate Blumenthal, Kenneth Pennington, and Atria A. Larson, [MICS, vol. 13], (2008), pp. 763–856, here p. 799, cites a statement of Robert of Courson in his Summa (c. 1210–12), recommending the torture of harsh confinement and diet: the suspects should be held in prison on bread and water until they confessed. 772 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS mends a judge for using more lenient alternatives, he does not condemn the harsher methods. In a celebrated passage in the City of God, Augustine agonizes over the suffering and injustices caused by judicial torture—for instance, when innocent persons confess to crimes just to stop the pain—but he asserts that the use of torture is necessary.56 When Gratian takes up the question explicitly of whether a defendant’s admission of guilt can be obtained by torture, he replies in the negative. However, his proof text, Si sacerdotibus, does not deal with judicial torture; and elsewhere he cites canons that approve of torture both for witnesses (Illi qui) and for defendants (Si res aliena and Circumcelliones). Deutero-Gratian cites Roman laws on torture with evident approval. Huguccio and his successors underscore these matters. Huguccio, however, sees that there is a problem for the clergy to participate in such activities if they result in the loss of life or limb or the shedding of blood; he says that clergy are restricted to less harmful interventions, ones that use the sort of implements employed by schoolmasters and parents to discipline their charges—which Augustine also recommended, but for reasons of clemency. Gratian could have cited a perfect passage to support his view that judicial confessions should not be forced—namely, the eighty-sixth response of Pope Nicholas I to the Bulgarians in the year 866, where he insists that all such confessions should be spontaneous and voluntary.57 He does cite Nicholas’s seventy-first response to answer the eighth and final question to Cause 15 (if a priest confesses that he sinned carnally before ordination, should he be allowed to function as a priest?).58 But doubtless Gratian did not know the pope’s complete letter and simply found this excerpt among others that he used from the work of Ivo of Chartres.59 56. Augustine, City of God 19.6. 57. Nicholas I, XCVII Responsa ad consulta Bulgarorum, no. 86 (PL 119:110–11). The first part reads, “Si fur vel latro deprehensus fuerit, et negaverit quod ei impingitur, asseritis apud vos quod judex caput ejus verberibus tundat, et aliis stimulis ferreis, donec veritatem depromat, ipsius latera pungat; quam rem nec divina lex, nec humana prorsus admittit, cum non invita, sed spontanea debeat esse confessio, nec sit violenter elicienda, sed voluntarie proferenda” (“If a thief or bandit is caught and he denies what he is accused of, you say your custom is for a judge to have his head beaten with blows and his sides punctured with iron spikes until he utters the truth; but such conduct is allowed by neither divine law nor human, because confession should not be unwilling but spontaneous, not violently elicited but voluntarily produced”). For the complete response, see Mathias Schmoeckel, Humanität und Staatsraison: Die Abschaffung der Folter in Europa und die Entwicklung des gemeinen Strafprozess- und Beweisrechts seit dem hohen Mittelalter (Vienna, 2000), p. 103. 58. Gratian, Decretum C. 15 q. 8 c.1 Qui admiserit (CIC 1:759). 59. Decretum C. 27 q. 2 c. 2; C. 30 q. 3 c. 1; C. 30 q. 5 c. 22. See CIC 1:xxxi. The other uses of the letter listed here were contributed by Deutero-Gratian, but all are likewise found in Ivo. HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 773 The Mythical Need for Papal Authorization of Torture in the Prosecution of Heretics Other misconceptions common among historians are that the new inquisitorial form of criminal procedure, as confirmed at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215, was designed for prosecution of heresy and that the use of torture was restricted to heresy inquisitors—but only after the pope specifically permitted it. According to Lea, the prohibition of the ordeal at the Fourth Lateran Council led to the situation in which “jurists began to feel the need for torture and to accustom themselves to the idea of its introduction,” which set the stage for Pope Innocent IV’s approval of the use of torture “for the discovery of heresy,” with the first version of his bull Ad extirpanda in 1252.60 However, the inquisitorial procedure set forth by Innocent III at Lateran IV61 was not intended or designed for the prosecution of heresy, which was to be handled in the traditional way by the use of purgation/ compurgation.62 Both purgation and inquisition relied on public opinion (fama) about a person’s guilt of a specific crime. In the former procedure, when guilt was denied under oath, the judge simply ordered the defendant to produce a certain number of honorable witnesses to act as compurgators and testify to the individual’s good reputation. In the inquisitorial procedure, the judge would try to prove the case against the defendant by witnesses or other methods of proof (if he failed, he could still order purgation).63 Within two decades, however, heresy prosecutors adopted the 60. Lea, History of the Inquisition, 1:421–22. Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, pp. 58–59n2, and 301–02n235, correctly observes that it is often and wrongly said that this was the beginning of the use of torture, whereas in reality torture was a standard usage before this point (at least in theory). The Lateran Council did not prohibit ordeals but only forbade clergy participation in them. Lea’s notion that the decline of ordeals stimulated the use of torture has proved popular. See, for instance, John H. Langbein, Torture and the Law of Proof: Europe and England in the Ancien Régime (Chicago, 1976; repr. with new preface, 2006), pp. 6–7. No connection has been found in the writings of canonists between the disuse of ordeals and the use of torture; nor do they offer evidence to support another popular notion: that inquisitorial procedure facilitated the use of torture. 61. Innocent III, Qualiter et quando, canon 8 of Fourth Lateran=X 5.1.24 (CIC 2: 745–47). 62. Innocent III, Excommunicamus, canon 3 of Fourth Lateran=X 5.7.13 (CIC 2:787– 89). See Henry Ansgar Kelly, “Inquisition, Public Fame, and Confession: General Rules and English Practice,” in The Culture of Inquisition in Medieval England, ed. Mary Flannery and Katie Walter (Rochester, NY, 2013), pp. 8–29, here pp. 12–13. 63. A form of inquisition may perhaps be seen as early as 1170, in an investigation into simony ordered by Pope Alexander III on the basis of fama. See Lotte Kéry, “Inquisitio— 774 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS inquisitorial procedure and often distorted its intent by violating the right of due process, notably by forcing suspects to testify against themselves before any charges were established and leveled against them.64 As for the second claim concerning torture as restricted solely to heresy prosecutors after approval by the pope, the licitness of torture was already well established for various kinds of cases, both criminal and civil, as is evident from what has been discussed above. An outstanding example of its use can be seen in the tribunal of St. Antoninus, the Dominican friar who became archbishop of Florence in 1446 (d. 1459), who resorted to torture extensively for prosecuting offenses committed by his clergy, employing officials from secular courts to administer it.65 In fact, Innocent IV himself, in his professorial role as Sinibaldo dei Fieschi (which he continued even after becoming pope in 1243, finishing his commentary on the Liber Extra c. 1245), was fully aware of the juristic doctrine of torture that preceded him. In his remarks on the rule of law Cum in contemplatione (about not beginning cases by torture), he states that he will restrict himself to the subject of the torture of clerics, because he already specified those who were to be tortured, as well as when and how torture was to be applied, in his (lost) Summa.66 He notes that there is a difference of opinion on clerics; some say that they can be tortured, citing Gregory I’s mention of the need for “corporal discussion” in the canon Imprimis, and citing also Illi qui, where the religiosus tortor is to work on accusers and witnesses against bishops. The latter canon, Innocent says, can apply only to clerics, since laypeople cannot testify against bishops. denunciatio—exceptio: Möglichkeiten der Verfahrenseinleitung im Decretalenrecht,” Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiften für Rechtsgeschichte, Kanonistische Abteilung, 87 (2001), 226–68, here 227–28. Inquisitorial procedure was developed at the University of Paris and was even used at times against heresy suspects, notably in the Diocese of Auxerre, as recorded in a decretal of Innocent III. See Bird, “Wheat,” pp. 804–09. 64. See Henry Ansgar Kelly, “Inquisition and the Prosecution of Heresy: Misconceptions and Abuses,” Church History, 58 (1989), 439–51. Repr. in Inquisitions and Other Trial Procedures in the Medieval West (Aldershot, 2001), article I. 65. Stefano Orlandi, S. Antonino, 2 vols. (Florence, 1959–60), 1:95–98; 2:258–61, 286, 293–94, 298. See Henry Ansgar Kelly, “The Law and Nonmarital Sex in the Middle Ages,” Conflict in Modern Europe: Changing Perspectives on Society and Culture, ed. Piotr Gorecki and Warren Brown (Aldershot, UK, 2003), pp. 175–93, here pp. 178–80. 66. Innocent IV, In quinque libros Decretalium commentaria (Venice, 1578) on X 5.41.6 Cum in contemplatione (fol. 236v): s.v. a questionibus: “Qui torqueri debeant, quando, et qualiter, hoc non noto, quia in Summa plene de omnibus notavi. Sed tantum de clericis videamus.” It is sometimes assumed that Innocent’s Summa, which is not extant, was exclusively on torture. HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 775 Furthermore, clerics can be beaten outside a judicial setting. Other authorities, however, say that it is laypeople, not clerics, who are tortured in the case of excepted crimes. Innocent goes on to specify that, although beatings are allowed, the torture should not endanger life or limb. It is noteworthy, he adds, that according to the first opinion, accusers are tortured in cases against clerics, which goes against (civil) law—unless, of course, it is a question of criminal or suspect accusers admitted in excepted crimes, or when an accused person wishes to evade infamy and desires tainted accusers to be admitted.67 Undoubtedly in his fuller treatment he took up the torture of defendants, as discussed by Augustine in Circumcelliones. What, then, did the papal bull Ad extirpanda have to do with torture? The bull contains a long set of constitutions addressed not to heresy inquisitors but to civic authorities in northern Italy. Only a brief allusion to torture appears; secular authorities are to use compulsion against the heretics they arrest but without endangering life or inflicting permanent injury, so that the accused may be induced to confess their errors and to reveal other heretics and their supporters, just as robbers and thieves are forced to confess their misdeeds and accuse accomplices.68 In other words, 67. Ibid.: “Et dixerunt aliqui eos torquendos [citing Imprimis, Illi qui], ubi dicitur accusatores episcoporum et testes torquendos, quod non videtur posse intelligi, nisi de clericis, cum alii ad accusationem vel testimonium contras eos non admittantur …. Arguitur etiam pro eis, quia cum extra testimonium licitum sit eos subjicere verberibus …. Alii tamen dicunt contra, et in capitulis contrariis dicunt laicos tortos, qui admissi fuerant in exceptis criminibus, de quibus loquuntur preallegati capitula …. Pro crimine autem bene fatentur aliquos verberandos, sed cavendum est semper, ne adeo graviter torqueantur, quod periculum immineant vite vel membrorum. Item nota in accusatione clericorum torquentur accusatores, secundum primam opinionem [citing Illi qui], quod non est secundum legem. Sed mirum videtur quod questio facienda sit in accusatore, cum nullum criminosus vel suspectus sit admittendus ad accusationem .… Sed dic eos admittendos in exceptis criminibus, vel quando accusatus volens evitare infamiam suam eos vult admittere.” 68. Giovanni Domenico Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio, 54 vols. (Paris, 1901–27), 23:569–75: Innocent IV, Ad extirpanda, May 15, 1252, constitutions issued to the civil authorities of Lombardy, Romagna, and Treviso. The section referring to torture is no. 25 (col. 573): “Teneatur preterea potestas seu rector omnes hereticos quos captos habuerit cogere, citra membri diminutionem et mortis periculum, tamquam vere latrones et homicidas animarum et fures sacramentorum Dei et fidei christiane, errores suos expresse fateri, et accusare alios hereticos quos sciunt, et bona eorum, et credentes et receptatores et defensores eorum, sicut coguntur fures et latrones rerum temporalium accusare suos complices et fateri maleficia que fecerunt” (“Moreover, every mayor or ruler is bound to compel all heretics whom they have arrested, without endangering their lives or permanently damaging any part of their bodies, to confess their errors explicitly, treating them, truly, as robbers and murderers of souls and thieves of God’s sacraments and the Christian faith, and making them accuse other heretics whom they know, and reveal their possessions and those who believe in 776 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS civic leaders are urged to use the same methods upon these metaphorical thieves that they do on real thieves. The text says nothing about the use of any such coercion by churchmen when prosecuting heretics judicially. The sort of torture in Innocent’s commentary concerns cases where charges have been formally made, whereas the bull seems to authorize an extralegal “third degree”69 by secular officials before delivering them to the bishop or inquisitors within the stipulated fifteen days.70 Therefore, Ad extirpanda marks an important step in the pursuit of heresy. But, although it was reissued at least five times by Innocent IV (between 1252–54), nine times by Alexander IV (between 1255–59), and twice by Clement IV (in 1265 and 1266),71 it never assumed the status of a jus commune; none of its instructions were incorporated into the Liber Sextus (1298). However, it is possible that its torture provision encouraged heresy inquisitors to use torture on suspects, once they began the practice of interrogating suspects before charging them, which appears as early as the Council of Narbonne (late 1243 or early 1244), when the prelates advised Dominican heresy inquisitors on how to proceed. In broad factfinding inquisitions, witnesses were required to testify generally concerning themselves and others (de se et aliis).72 A heresy-inquisitor manual used in Italy, Explicatio super officio inquisitionis (c. 1260–61), which Antoine Dondaine labels as Manual 3, refers to one of Innocent IV’s issues of Ad extirpanda but only for its threat of excommunication against recalcitrant town officials.73 However, Don- them and give them shelter and come to their defense, just as thieves and robbers of earthly goods are forced to accuse their accomplices and to confess the evils they have done”). 69. This expression goes back to the turn of the twentieth century; it is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as “an interrogation of a prisoner by the police involving the infliction of mental or physical suffering in order to bring about a confession or to secure information.” 70. Ad extirpanda, chap. 23. Later, with Boniface VIII’s decretal Ut inquisitionis, Sext 5.2.18, CIC 2:1076–77, it was made general law that only ecclesiastical courts could try heresy. 71. Lea, History of the Inquisition, 1:337–40. Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, gives the details of both issues of Clement IV but of only two of Innocent IV and one of Alexander IV (see his index on pp. 28–29). 72. Consilium del concilio di Narbonne (1243–44), ed. Riccardo Parmeggiani, I consilia procedurali per l’inquisizione medievale (1235–1330) (Bologna, 2011), pp. 22–32, cap. 27 (p. 30). See Kelly, “Inquisition and the Prosecution of Heresy,” p. 447. 73. Antoine Dondaine, “Le manuel de l’inquisiteur (1230–1330),” Archivum fratrum praedicatorum, 17 (1947), 85–194, here 101–04; Riccardo Parmeggiani, ed., Explicatio super officio inquisitionis: Origini e sviluppi della manualistica inquisitoriale tra Due e Trecento (Rome, 2012), pp. 1–2; cf. pp. xcvi–xcix. Parmeggiani narrows the date to 1260–61 (pp. lxvi–lxviii). H ENRY A NSGAR K ELLY 777 daine’s Manual 4, perhaps by the Franciscan David of Augsburg (d. 1271), cites Innocent’s Ad extirpanda as authorizing an accused person “by a secular judgment” to be compelled to confess his errors and betray accomplices by tortures and torments, but short of danger to life and limb.74 The author here may envisage the secular tribunal as invited to participate in the course of the ecclesiastical trial, once the suspect has been formally charged. Another manual from around 1295, the Italian Libellus (Manual 7), simply provides a copy of the 1265 issue of Ad extirpanda of Clement IV.75 But when Bernard Guy, heresy inquisitor of Toulouse, cites the same bull in his extensive manual a generation later (Manual 9), he says that the bull shows that heretics can be tortured, like thieves and murderers, both to confess their own errors and to accuse others.76 He makes no mention of resorting to the secular arm. Later, when dealing with the southern-style Beguines, he makes it clear that torture can be used even on persons who refuse to cooperate in pretrial interrogations.77 Early Use of Torture in Church Tribunals It is difficult to know the extent to which torture, no matter what the justification, was actually used. As Lea points out, “In the fragmentary documents of inquisitorial proceedings which have reached us the references to torture are singularly few.”78 He assumes that it did happen frequently, and Clement V’s Multorum querela confirms it. Lea speculates that recording its use “would in some sort invalidate the force of the testimony.”79 Vasil Bivolarov, citing Yves Dossat, thinks it very likely that the Dominican heresy inquisitor Bernard de Caux in 1243 used the rack on a 74. Wilhelm Preger, ed., “Der tractat des David von Augsburg über die Waldesier,” Abhandlungen der historischen classe der königlich bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, vol. 14, pt. 2 (Munich, 1878), pp. 181–224, chap. 37 (p. 225): “Quod si aliquis accusatus et detentus non vult sponte confiteri errores suos et prodere alios complices suos, potest per judicium seculare ad hoc compelli questionibus et tormentis, citra membrorum diminucionem et mortis periculum, accusare aliquos quos scit, et fautores eorum, credentes, et errores suos expresse confiteri, secundum constitucionem Innocentii IV pape.” See Johanned Fried, “Wille, Freiwilligkeit und Geständnis um 1300: Zur Beurteilung des letzten Templergrossmeisters Jacques de Molay,” Historisches Jahrbuch, 105 (1985), 388–425, here 391. This chapter is found in the longer version of Manual 4; see Dondaine, “Manuel,” p. 104. 75. Dondaine, “Manuel,” pp. 107, 111, 155. 76. Bernard Guy, Practica inquisitionis heretice pravitatis, ed. Célestin Douais (Paris 1886), 4.3.2.A.a (pp. 218–19). The work was completed around the beginning of 1324; Dondaine, “Manuel,” pp. 115–17. 77. Guy, Practica, 5.4.8 (p. 284). 78. Lea, History, 1:423. 79. Ibid., pp. 423–24. 778 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS heresy suspect, but Dossat himself convincingly argues that the count of Toulouse was responsible for the torture, in pursuit of a monetary matter.80 However, Bivolarov does rightly note that around 1278–79 Charles of Anjou authorized his officials to use torture in Sicily at the request of another Dominican heresy inquisitor, Bartholomew of Aquila.81 Lea cites one example of complaints of abuses by heresy inquisitors and their torture of innocent persons: a rebuke by King Philip of France in 1291.82 But he first finds indications of torture in inquisitorial records concerning the prosecution of heresy in Toulouse beginning in 1309 and in the references of Bernard Guy about its utility “on both principals and witnesses.”83 Guy does deal with torture in his manual, but only sparsely. Apart from the appeal to the Ad extirpanda of Clement IV and his reference to using it on uncharged suspects, his only other mention occurs in a sample sentence in part 3, where it is related that the defendant made a confession unprompted by torture but then claimed that he had only confessed to heresy while under torture.84 Lea cites the actual case in which this allegation of torture occurred in Guy’s Liber sententiarum85 and deduces that torture must have been used in other cases.86 In fact, beginning in 1307, such torture had been ordered and explicitly practiced in the north of France in the persecution of the Knights Templar.87 80. Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, p. 302n235, citing Yves Dossat, Les crises de l’inquisition toulousane au XIIIe siècle (1233–1273) (Bordeaux, 1959), p. 212. 81. Ricardo Filangieri, ed., I registri della Cancelleria angioina, vol. 21 (Naples, 1967), p. 270, no. 120; p. 273, no. 142; and p. 305, no. 368. See Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, pp. 301–02. 82. Lea, History, 2:61–62; Bivalarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, 302n238, gives an example of the complaints. 83. Lea, History, 1:424, referring to Guy’s Liber sententiarum (see below). 84. Guy, Practica, 3.36 (pp. 138–39): not tortured: “non existens in questionibus seu tormentis”; claims he was tortured: “negare se confessum fuisse aliquid de heresi nisi per violentiam tormentorum.” 85. Lea, History, 1:424, cf. 420. The Liber sententiarum has now been edited by Annette Pales-Gobilliard, Le livre des sentences de l’inquisiteur Bernard Gui, 1308–1323, 2 vols. continuous pagination (Paris, 2002); see 2:1178. Lea’s page numbers refer to the Limborch edition (given here as “LM”). 86. Lea, History, 1:424: “There are numerous instances in which the information wrung from the convicts who had no hope of escape could scarce have been procured in any other manner.” 87. Georges Lizerand, ed. and trans., Le dossier de l’affaire des Templiers, 2nd ed. (Paris, 1964), doc. 2[.2], pp. 24–29, and Malcolm Barber and Keith Bate, trans., The Templars: Selected Sources (New York, 2002), pp. 247–48. See Lea, History, 3:260–318; Malcolm Barber, The Trial of the Templars, 2nd ed. (New York, 2006). HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 779 The case of the Franciscan friar Bernard Delicios of Carcassonne is especially illuminating. After he came to Avignon in 1317 to speak to Pope John XXII on behalf of the Spiritual Franciscans, he was arrested by the mainline friars and, according to a partisan report, was subjected to severe imprisonment and other harsh efforts to extort admissions that could support a heresy charge.88 But the prosecution against him was taken up at the papal court at the beginning of 1318. Bernard of Castanet, former bishop of Albi, formulated one set of charges, with another apparently set forth by Bernard Guy, to which Friar Bernard made responses; but then in 1319 the pope transferred the inquisition to a commission of bishops in the defendant’s home territory.89 One of the two bishops who heard the case was James Fournier, who had already begun heresy inquisitions in his diocese of Pamiers90 and would succeed John XXII in 1334 as Benedict XII. Most of the charges against the friar were of favoring heresy by opposing the Dominican heresy inquisitors— alleging that they had forced confessions and accusations of heresy from and about innocent persons by the use of torture.91 But the friar was tortured on the basis of other charges: treason against the king of France, plotting the death of Pope Benedict XI, and using a book of demonic magic. Regarding the charge of treason, the bishops on October 2 informed Friar Bernard that, because of the testimony of witnesses and his own 88. Angelo Clareno, Historia septem tribulationum, tribulation 6, ed. Franz Ehrle, “Die Spiritualen, ihr Verhältniss zum Franciscanerorden und zu den Fraticellen,” Archiv für Literatur und Kirchengeschichte des Mittelalters, 2 (1886), 106–64, 249–336, here 147: “Et adinvenciones eorum et studia convertebant, si quomodo de ore ipsius verbum possent aliquod capere vel extorquere, per quod occasionem haberent contra eum quasi contra hereticum procedendi” (“And their devices and efforts centered on how they could in any way record or extort from his own mouth some saying that would give them the opportunity to proceed against him as a heretic”). See Alan Friedlander, The Hammer of the Inquisitors: Brother Bernard Délicieux and the Struggle Against the Inquisition in Fourteenth-Century France (Leiden, 2000), p. 256: “They submitted him first to torture and then to interrogation.” 89. Friedlander, Hammer, pp. 258–60; Processus Bernardi Delitiosi: The Trial of Fr. Bernard Délicieux, 3 September‒8 December 1319, ed. Alan Friedlander (Philadelphia, 1996); Jean Duvernoy, trans., Le procès de Bernard Délicieux, 1319 (Toulouse, 2001). See Lea, History, 2:100–02. 90. Jean Duvernoy, ed., Le registre d’inquisition de Jacques Fournier, évêque de Pamiers (1318–1325), 3 vols. (Toulouse, 1965). 91. He was charged in the Castanet articles nos. 15–16 with interviewing prisoners for details of their torture and the names of those they accused because of the torture; one witness testified, and Delicios denied the charges (Processus, pp. 60, 94–95, 109, 170). During the trial, he was asked if he publicly denounced the inquisitors for forcing accusations by torture; he admitted to having done so only privately, based on hearsay rather than his own knowledge (pp. 189, 194–95). He was found guilty of saying that true Catholics were forced to confess de se et aliis because of torture (pp. 206–07). 780 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS statements, there was a violent presumption that his role in the matter was larger than that described in his responses, and that therefore they were issuing an interlocutory sentence that he be tortured (supponi questionibus). The next day they committed the task to the jurisperitus Master Hugh de Badafols, for two reasons: he was an expert in inflicting torture (plene expertus super inferendis vel faciendis questionibus), and second, as an attendee of the trial, he was completely informed on the testimony and statements concerning the treason charge. Badafols was currently the parish priest (rector) of a church in Alet and had been the official, or chief ecclesiastical judge, of the short-lived Diocese of Limoux (1317–18). In the previous year, 1318, he had represented the archbishop of Narbonne at a sentence of exhumation in Limoux delivered by the Dominican inquisitor John de Beaune.92 The judges instructed him that he was to use only such temperate tortures as were required by law (de jure) upon a person of the age and condition of Friar Bernard, so that neither death nor permanent injury would result. Two notaries were to be on hand to record any confession of the friar, so that Badafols could report to the bishops about the tortures used and any admissions made.93 Badafols went to Friar Bernard at once, and, although the notaries were near enough to hear his cries or shrieks, they clearly were unable to see what was happening, but they concluded from the shrieks that Master Hugh tortured him. After an interval, Badafols returned to the bishops, taking the notaries with him. He reported that he had applied torture on Friar Bernard as they ordered, but the friar had not confessed anything against himself during the process or afterward and rather insisted during torture that the charges against him were false.94 When the bishops resumed their interrogation of Friar Bernard the next day, the notaries seemed to be at pains to stress that the torture had not harmed him, for they said with great elaboration that he spoke tranquilly and with no tremor in his voice.95 92. Processus Bernardi, p. 143 (October 2–3); cf. p. 342; Friedlander, Hammer, pp. 190– 91; Duvernoy, Procès, p. 95n90. 93. Processus Bernardi, pp. 143–44. Beaune also attended the trial of Friar Bernard, but not as a participant, except to present witnesses. 94. Ibid., p. 144: “ipsum, ut apparebat ex vocibus et clamoribus supradictis, questionibus supposuit” (“he subjected him to torture, as was evident from the aforesaid cries and shrieks”). 95. Ibid.: “Ipse frater Bernardus sponte, plane, et tranquille, deliberate et constanter et sine omni tremore, prout percipi poterat ex verbis suis et modo suo loquendi, respondit et confessus fuit super articulo proditionis predicte ut sequitur.” H ENRY A NSGAR K ELLY 781 Seven weeks later, the bishops decreed that Friar Bernard was to undergo torture once again, this time on the charges of abbreviating the life of Pope Benedict and using a book of black magic (libellus nigromanticus). They committed the task to two of their regular assessors at the trial: Peter du Verdier, archdeacon of Majorca, and the jurisperitus Bertrand Jurquet of the Diocese of St. Flour, also identified as the rector of the church of St. Stephen in Ségur in the Diocese of Rodez.96 Verdier was a cleric of Perpignan who had served as chancellor to the king of Majorca and, after fleeing to France, had been summoned by Bishop Fournier in 1318 to participate in his inquisitions in Pamiers, and he also employed him to issue excommunications against persons in the diocese who failed to pay tithes.97 The assessors did not conduct the torturing personally, but reported that Friar Bernard was “put to the questions” in their presence. They continually stood by him as he was tortured, with the two notaries assisting. The friar expressed no wish to admit to anything but rather, both under torture and afterward, constantly asserted that he had not contributed to the pope’s death and had never used the book in question.98 Manuals and Consultations of Heresy Prosecution Unlike the Directorium inquisitorum of the Catalan heresy inquisitor Nicholas Eymeric (completed in 1376), Guy’s Practica, which is so prominent in modern accounts of heresy prosecution, does not seem to have been influential in its time. Eymeric’s Directorium became even more important when Francisco Peña, the most authoritative legal authority of his day, edited and provided commentary on it in 1578.99 Among the authorities 96. Ibid., pp. 179–80 (Nov. 20); see also pp. 181, 213, 218, 219, 311n85. 97. Duvernoy, Procès, p. 122n118. 98. Processus Bernardi, p. 180. The account of the torture is inserted into the record, with no lead-up or follow-up, between the events of November 17 and November 25. It is said to have been ordered on the morning of November 19, but it is not mentioned in other reports of that day (see pp. 153, 193). 99. Nicholas Eymeric, Directorium inquisitorum [1376], ed. Francisco Peña, 2 vols. (Rome, 1578). Eymeric’s manual is in the first volume, and Peña’s comments (scholia) are in the second. See Eymeric’s sections in part 3: De tertio modo terminandi processum in causa fidei: per tormenta; Forma sententie interlocutorie ad supponendum aliquem questionibus et tormentis; Instructio accuratissima circa questiones reorum (1:313–15) and Peña’s corresponding scholia 53–54 (2:165–69); and Eymeric’s q. 61 De questionibus et tormentis (1:372–73) and Peña’s scholium 118 (2:224–31). Cf. Peña’s slightly revised edition of 1585 (used here is in the reprint of Venice, 1595), in which his scholia are renamed commenta and printed immediately after the relevant passages in Eymeric. For instance, scholium 118 on torture appears as commentum 110 on pp. 592–99, after Eymeric’s Question 61 (pp. 591–92). 782 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS used by Eymeric in his discussion of what persons should be tortured are the Summa de questionibus—attributed by him to Azo, presumably Azo of Bologna (d. 1230), the famous civil law glossator—and the Summa of Innocent IV, neither of which is extant.100 As a side note, it is interesting to see Peña’s account of the first use of torture by heresy inquisitors. He says that, at the beginning of what he calls the constituta delegata inquisitio—that is, the use of papally appointed heresy inquisitors (judges-delegate)—it was not thought allowable for inquisitors to torture defendants. Peña attributes this attitude to fear of incurring irregularity, and therefore Innocent IV in Ad extirpanda directed secular authorities to do it. But because secret matters were often revealed in this way and other serious problems arose concerning the faith, it seemed a better practice that the inquisitors and bishops should conduct the torture themselves, as is clear from recent laws (principally Multorum querela). Notably, Ut negotium—a 1264 rescript of Urban IV that was directed to the Dominican heresy inquisitors in Aragon and was recorded by Eymeric—allowed them to absolve each other from any sentence of excommunication or irregularity.101 The oldest treatment of torture in connection with the prosecution of heresy may be that contained in a consultation on episcopal inquisitions, Consilium peritorum super quibusdam dubitabilibus, which may be as early as the late 1230s. It is to be found in a French manual of a somewhat later date, Dondaine’s Manual 5.102 The consultation justifies the use of torture on two grounds. First, it cites a decretal of Alexander III, In archiepiscopatu, which allows whippings, as long as they do not draw blood, as punishment for Sarracens who abduct/abuse Christian women and children.103 Second, 100. Eymeric, Directorium, part 3, q. 61 De questionibus, 1:372–73. 101. Peña on Eymeric’s q. 61, scholium 118 (2:224–25); see Eymeric, pt. 2 (1:84–85). Alexander IV issued a rescript of the same incipit (Ut negotium) and purport to the Dominicans of Toulouse in 1256. See Peters, Torture, p. 65; Mark Gregory Pegg, The Corruption of Angels: The Great Inquisition of 1245–1246 (Princeton, 2001), p. 32; Christine Caldwell Ames, Righteous Persecution: Inquisition, Dominicans, and Christianity in the Middle Ages (Philadelphia, 2009), p. 166. 102. Consilium peritorum super quibusdam dubitabilibus, ed. Parmeggiani, Consilia, pp. 49–51. See Dondaine, “Manuel,” pp. 106–07, 141–46: Manual 5 [Manuel de l’inquisiteur], appearing in Vat. lat. MS 3978, fols. 17–38. The consultation is on fols. 25v–26; Dondaine says that it seems to have the same origin as the previous consultation, dated at Avignon on June 21, 1235 (pp. 141–42). Parmeggiani dates it “1249–55.” See Bivolarov, InquisitorenHandbücher, p. 301n234. 103. Alexander III, In archiepiscopatu, X 5.17.4 (CIC 2:809): “et etiam flagellis affligere, ea moderatione adhibita, quod flagella in vindictam sanguinis transire minime videantur.” H ENRY ANSGAR KELLY 783 it adduces the canon Illi qui (the Isidorian decretal of Pseudo-Eusebius providing for a religious torturer) and concording canons.104 The consultation also approves of coercive imprisonment.105 Although Manual 5 opens with a decretal of Pope Clement IV dated October 31, 1265, in its original form the collection seems to have come from Toulouse around 1256.106 That the idea of torture in heresy prosecutions was in the air at an early date, at least in Provence, is evident from a consultation of Raymond of Pennafort in 1235, who speaks of persons cited to the tribunal who confess spontaneously and “not out of fear of proofs or of torture.”107 It has been concluded that a consultation sent by Guy Foulques (the future Pope Clement IV) to the Dominican heresy inquisitors in Provence sometime between 1238 and 1243108 refers to the torture of witnesses, because it cites a law from the Digest that says that torture (questio) can be 104. Consilium peritorum, fol. 25vb, answering the third question, about treatment of suspects who deny charges and demand copies of the charges and testimony: the judge reads the testimony without the names of the witnesses, to incite terror; if they are unwilling to submit themselves to the mercy of the judge, “tunc judex, maxime si habet eos suspectos, minetur eis tormenta et eos duris questionibus submissuros (quod etiam si necesse fuerit potuerit fieri, ut probatur Extra, De raptoribus, In archiepiscopatu, et C. 5 q. 3 [recte 5] Illi qui, cum suis concordanciis aliis). Tali enim dolo bono ‘manu obstetricante’ est ‘coluber tortuosus’ deducendus.” Translation: “Then the judge, especially if he considers them [particularly] suspect, should threaten them with torments and say that he will submit them to harsh tortures (and in fact this could be done, if necessary, as is proved by the chapter In archiepiscopatu, in the title De raptoribus in the Liber Extra, and by the canon Illi qui and its concording canons). For by such benign trickery the ‘twisting serpent by obstetric hand’ is brought forth.” The last clause cites Job 26:13, “spiritus ornavit caelos, et obstetricante manu ejus eductus est coluber tortuosus” (“His Spirit hath adorned the heavens, and his obstetric hand brought forth the winding serpent,” trans. Douai-Challoner). It goes on to adduce the example of Jesus, appearing in another form and pretending he was going beyond Emmaus (Luke 24:16, 28), and God’s order to Joshua to set ambushes for his enemies. 105. Ibid.: “Insuper, si sic veritas non potuerit enucleari, diutius custodia teneantur, ut eis vexatio det intellectum” (“In addition, if the truth cannot be elicited, let them be held in custody longer, so that vexation may give them understanding”). 106. Yves Dossat, Les crises de l’Inquisition toulousaine au xiiie siècle (1233–1272) (Bordeaux, 1959), p. 199. See Kelly, “Inquisition and the Prosecution of Heresy,” pp. 447–48. 107. Raymond of Pennafort, Credo quod deprehensi in heresi, ed. Parmeggiani, Consilia, no. 1 (pp. 6–8): “Si quis citatus in jure confitetur sponte, id est, non metu probationum vel tormentorum”; see Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, 301n234. In a consultation of Pennafort’s from 1242, there is no mention of torture; see Queritur qui dicantur, ed. Parmeggiani, no. 4 (pp. 15–22), which Dondaine lists as Manual 1. 108. Guy Foulques (Foucois, etc.), First Consultation, ed. Bivolarov, InquisitorenHandbücher, pp. 225–55. Bivolarov dates the consilium between September 1238 and August 1243. On p. 206n1 he gives fifty-one variants of Guy’s surname. The consultation is also given by Parmeggiani, Consilia, pp. 58–71, following the 1641 edition of Cesare Carena. 784 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS repeated.109 This seems unlikely. Moreover, it is clear from Foulques’s previous question that he is not thinking of the torture of defendants, because he insists that no one can be convicted based on singular witnesses and ill fame; rather, purgation should be ordered for such persons.110 “Civilian” writers of this time would find this sufficient reason to use torture on the defendant in a treason case,111 and later authorities on heresy prosecution agreed that the same was true in cases of heresy.112 However, in the consultation that he gave at the end of 1260 as the archbishop of Narbonne, Foulques does refer to torture, but it is the torture of harsh confinement and reduced diet that would be applied to certain suspects who claim to have confessed to other inquisitors.113 109. Foulques, First Consultation, Q. 15 (p. 251): “Quod fieri posse scilicet iterari testium interrogationes omissas, dicit decretalis De testibus, Per tuas [X 2.20.48], et concordat lex, ff. De questionibus, Repeti [Dig. 48.18.16: ‘Repeti posse quaestionem’]” (“But that omitted interrogations of witnesses can be repeated, the decretal Per tuas declares, and the law Repeti agrees”). See Bivolarov, p. 301 and n. 232. Foulques follows with the warning (which Bivolarov quotes in n. 232) that great care must be taken in questioning witnesses, because heresy suspects are not given the usual legal right to know the identities of those who testify against them (pp. 251–52). Foulques’s consultation appears in Manual 5, fols. 21–25. 110. Foulques, First Consultation, Q. 14 (p. 249): “An autem per singulares testes et famam possit aliquis in hoc crimine condempnari, queri non oportet. Constat enim quod non [X 2.20.33], presertim cum in criminibus probationes esse debeant luce clariores [Cod. 4.19.25], et in hoc crimine nemo sit ex presumptione dampnandus. Indicetur ergo purgatio, ut ostensum est supra” (“But whether anyone can be condemned for this crime by single witnesses and fame, should not be asked. For it is clear that the answer is no …, especially since proofs of crimes should be clearer than light …, and in this crime no one is condemned out of presumption. Therefore, purgation is to be ordered, as was shown above”). 111. Accursius in his Ordinary Gloss (ca. 1230) to Cod. 9.8.3 Si quis aliqui s.v. convictus says that the testimony of a single witness is enough by itself to order torture: “Sed dic quod convictus per unum testem, et sic semiplene est probatum, vel per aliud indicium, quod oportet precedere questionem” (“But say that he is convicted by one witness, and so the case is half proved, or by some other indicium that should precede torture”). See Corpus juris civilis Justinianei, ed. Johannes Fehius of Gailsdort, 6 vols. (Lyons, 1627; repr. Osnabrück, 1966), 4:2331. 112. Eymeric, Directorium, pt. 3, Q. 61 (1:372–73): “Secunda regula est, quod si quis reperitur de heresi diffamatus, et cum hoc probatur habere contra se unum testem de scientia, talis questionandus est [cites authorities], quia unus testis et fama dicuntur facere semiplenam probationem; immo unus testis solus dicitur facere indicium competens, ut notat Azo in Summa de questionibus” (“The second rule is, that if anyone is defamed of heresy and it is proved that he has one eye-witness against him, he is to be tortured …, because one witness and fame are said to constitute half-proof; in fact one witness alone is said to be a sufficient indicium as Azo notes in his Summa on Torture”). 113. Guy Foulques, Second Consultation (1260). See Bivolarov, Inquisitoren-Handbücher, p. 192, no. 12; it is edited by Parmeggiani, Consilia, pp. 71–73, no. 13, but the author’s initial, “G.,” is mistakenly expanded to “Guillelmus” instead of to “Guido,” and the year is HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 785 Interestingly, a series of consultations produced in Italy around 1281 recommends the use of torture without causing bloodshed, administered by the secular authorities to Jews suspected of encouraging Jewish converts to the Christian faith to return to Judaism.114 As noted, Dondaine counts Bernard Guy’s treatise as Manual 9. Manual 11, the last treated by Dondaine, is the De hereticis of Zanchino Ugolini, an Italian jurist advising a Franciscan heresy inquisitor.115 Ugolini does not perpetuate the abuse of pre-arraignment interrogation but rather has the suspect plead after the proper charges are filed.116 But the question arises: If the defendant denies the charges, but they are nevertheless partially proved (for example, by one solid witness), can the accused be tortured, as is the case with other crimes? The answer is: yes, he can be tortured, either by the inquisitor or the bishop, in accord with the Clementine Multorum and Gratian’s Imprimis (Gregory the Great’s statement that vile witnesses need “corporal discussion”) and Ante omnia (minor clerics can be given as 1261 rather than 1260. The text reads: “Sic credimus distinguendum, quod, si predicte persone sunt suspecte et de heresi infamate, juxta qualitatem personarum per durum carcerem et vitam artam est ab eis confessio extorquenda; et si sic extorqueri non potest, ex quo confitentur quod olim hereses suas confessi fuerint, cum presumatur quod per maliciam veritatem occultent, nec appareat quod penitentiam receperint, credimus eos ad crucem vel carcerem condempnandos” (“We believe that it should be distinguished thus: if the aforesaid persons are suspect and defamed of heresy, according to their status a confession should be extorted from them by means of hard prison and restricted life; and if it cannot be thus extorted, so that they confess that they had confessed their heresies before, we believe that, since it is presumed that they are hiding the truth through malice, and if it appears that they will not be brought to penitence, they should be condemned to the cross or to prison”). For the punishment of wearing cloth crosses, see Lea, History, 1:468. 114. Parmeggiani, Consilia, nos. 30–32 (pp. 121–30), from Padua, Bologna, and Ferrara, c. 1281; Bivalarov lists these consultations as nos. 32–34 (Inquisitoren-Handbücher, pp. 200–02, 302). For instance, no. 30, article 3, reads: “Dicunt quod si habeat violentas presumptiones contra tales quod in predictis excessibus et aliis similibus, quando inquirit contra eos, veritatem non dicunt, potest et debet eam extorquere suppliciis citra effusionem sanguinis per executorem vel judicem secularem” (“They say that if he [the inquisitor] has violent presumptions against such [Jews], when he holds inquisition against them, that they are not telling the truth concerning the foresaid excesses and other similar offenses, he can and should extort it by torments, short of shedding blood, performed by a secular official or judge”). 115. Zanchino Ugolini, De hereticis, first edited by Camillo Campeggi in 1568, and then included in De judiciis criminalibus Sanctae Inquisitionis (Venice, 1584), which is vol. 11, pt. 2 of Tractatus universi juris, 25 vols. in 28 (Venice, 1584–86), fols. 234–69v, but here Campeggi’s comments are updated, since they refer to Peña’s 1578 edition of Eymeric. (The entire volume is often erroneously said to be edited by Peña; this notion is refuted by a note from the Bibliopola, the actual editor, on fol. 233v.) 116. Ugolini, De hereticis, chap. 9, Modus procedendi (fol. 240v). 786 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS beaten), as well as the rule of law in the Liber Extra, Cum in contemplatione, that says that trials should not begin with “questions.”117 It should be noted that the gigantic procedural manual (finished around 1291) of the great “Speculator,” William Durand, has only a few lines on torture: A judge can torture a homicide suspect if it is proved that the suspect threatened the victim or had been offended by the victim.118 In the commentary on Durand by John Andrew (his last work, completed in 1348) there are a few brief comments on the indicia or evidences needed for torture.119 They refer back to his treatment in his Novella on the Liber Extra dealing with the rule of law, Cum in contemplatione, that cases should not begin with torture. There he presents a summa on torture, but it mainly involves the subject of who can be tortured (witnesses in an accusatio, for instance), and cites the Digest that the torture-question should not be whether a certain person, Titius, committed the crime, but should ask who did it, therefore not suggesting but inquiring.120 Earlier he refers to the Ordinary Gloss to Gratian’s Quod autem on torturing accuser/plaintiff, defendant, and witnesses (actor, reus, testes),121 and he repeats the treatment of Innocent IV and also that of Cardinal Hostiensis on Cum in contemplatione. Andrew specifically cites Hostiensis on the allowability of torture in ecclesiastical courts, not only for criminal cases but also civil, where money matters are being litigated, as long as the torture is moderate (this is where Andrew cites Circumcelliones on the torture of defendants, quoting Huguccio on the kind of instruments to be used).122 The commentary of Archdeacon Guy of Baisio (c. 1300) on Circumcelliones states that, where the final gloss notes that an ecclesiastical judge can order caning (virgis) as punishment, even on clerics, this is an argu117. Ibid., no. 7 (fol. 240vb): “Sed pone quod facta est aliqua probatio contra inquisitum, non tamen plena, puta per unum testem bone opinionis et fame, et ipse interrogatus omnino negat in inquisitione contenta, nunquid poterit torqueri? . . . Dic quod torqueri poterit, per inquisitorem vel episcopum. Et hoc casu intelligam [cap. Multorum], et concordat … Imprimis [et] Ante [et] Extra, De regulis juris, Cum in contemplatione.” 118. Gulielmus Durandus, Speculum juris, 2 vols. (Basel, 1574), with the commentary of Johannes Andreae, repr. as Speculum judiciale (Aalen, 1975), book 2, pt. 2, rubric De presumptionibus, §2 Species, nos. 7–8 (2:740). 119. Ibid., Johannes Andreae commentary, 1:626, 738, 740; 2:47. 120. Johannes Andreae, Novella 5:161–161A on X 5.41.6 Cum in contemplatione, specifically no. 5: “Non debet questio fieri, an Titius commiserit, sed quis commiserit, ne plus videatur suggerens quam querens,” citing Dig. 48.18.1 §21. 121. Johannes Andreae, loc. cit. no. 3. 122. Ibid. See Hostiensis, Comm., 5:134, on X 5.41.6 Cum in contemplatione, no. 7: “et est hoc verum non solum cum de crimine queritur sed etiam si de pecunia agatur.” H ENRY ANSGAR KELLY 787 ment that prelates can force the truth out of clerics by torture. He cites Illi qui and specifies that it is not contrary to Si sacerdotibus, since in Si sacerdotibus there was no presumption (not to mention that the coercion did not take place in a court of law), whereas in Illi qui there were many presumptions; therefore, torture could be used to obtain their confessions.123 Eymeric, however, replicated Bernard Guy in allowing the torture of mere suspects before they were charged, as long as there is sufficient evidence against them (in the opinion of the inquisitor and his consultants). Peña124 approved of this position, as did Prospero Farinacci, who was the fisc (public prosecutor) of Rome, in his 1616 treatise on heresy, where he cites Diego de Simancas (1568), Camillo Campeggi (1568), and Tiberio Deciani (1590).125 The heresy inquisitor of Genoa, Eliseo Masini, also concurred, in his popular handbook of 1621, Sacro Arsenale.126 In so holding, Masini contradicts what he praises as a noble principle of the Holy Office—namely, that no person can be tortured before defenses are offered formally (that is, until he is officially charged and given the opportunity to deny the charges and mount defenses against them).127 Peña, too, ends his discussion of torture with the stipulation that the defendant’s advocate needs to participate in any discussion as to whether there is sufficient evidence to justify submitting the accused to torture128—which could hardly be satisfied before charges are made and before the case is presented against the defendant. 123. Archdeacon Guy de Baisio, Rosarium (Strassburg, c. 1473, unfol.) on Gratian C. 23 q. 5 c. 1 Circumcelliones: “Et sic habes hic argumentum quod eciam prelati per cruciatum corporis possunt eruere veritatem; ad idem, C. 5. q. 5 c. 4 Illi qui; nec est contra supra, C. 15 q. 6 c. 1 [Si sacerdotibus], quia ibi nulla erat presumptio, sed hic multe erant contra tales, et ideo per tormenta potuit ab eis extorqueri confessio.” 124. Eymeric, pt. 3, Cautele inquisitorum decem contra hereticorum cavillationes et fraudes, no. 6 (1:292), cited by Peña, Praxis inquisitorum, 2.21, fol. 142v. 125. Prospero Farinacci, Tractatus de haeresi (Lyons, 1650), title 185, no. 139 (p. 148). This treatise is the last part (title 18) of Farinacci’s vast work, Praxis et theorica criminalis (or Variae quaestiones et communes opiniones criminales), finished in 1614 and first printed in 1616. See Niccolò Del Re, “Prospero Farinacci, giureconsulto romano (1544–1618),” Archivio della Società Romana di Storia Patria, 98 (1975), 135–220, here pp. 172–84, and A. Mazzacane, “Farinacci, Prospero,” in Dizionario biografico degli Italiani (DBI), ed. Alberto M. Ghisalberti (Rome, 1960–), 45:1–5. The first three titles of the Praxis first appeared in 1589. For Farinacci’s treatment of torture in title 5 (first printed in 1593), see Pennington, “Torture in the Ius commune,” pp. 830–34. 126. Eliseo Masini, Sacro Arsenale, ovvero Prattica dell’Officio della Santa Inquisitione (Genoa, 1621), pt. 6, Del modo d’interrogare i rei nella tortura, pp. 146–47. 127. Masini, pt. 4 (dealing with the “repetitive” and defensive aspects of the trial), pp. 97–98. 128. Peña on Eymeric, scholium 118 (2:231). 788 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS Torture and the Holy Office in the Time of Galileo It was routine to discuss torture in the handbooks and treatises on criminal law in the sixteenth century. For example, Peña states that there is a great controversy over the question of whether being “various” (that is, inconsistent in one’s responses) is by itself an indicium that can support a decision to torture.129 According to Peña, Carrerius denies that variation qualifies as an indicium, citing common opinion,130 a view with which Marsilius,131 Grammaticus,132 and Johannes de Amicis133 agree, along with others referred to by Carrerius. On the other side, Eymeric holds that variation is indeed an adequate indicium, and Gondisalvus,134 Guido de Suzaria, Franciscus Brunus,135 Marcus Antonius Blancus,136 and others who follow them concur. They say that the latter was also the view of Baldus and Bartolus, although some doubt that Bartolus thought so. Peña goes on to cite Paris de Puteo,137 Julius Clarus,138 Simancas,139 and Plotus.140 However, since the present study focuses on church tribunals, I wish to conclude by pointing out a new element in the standard practice of the Holy Office, as represented by Masini’s Sacro Arsenale: namely, the routine 129. Peña on Eymeric, scholium 118, 2:226–27. 130. Citing Ludovico Carerio, Tractatus de haereticis (Lyons, 1562). 131. Hippolytus de Marsiliis of Bologna (d. 1529), Practica criminalis. See Schulte, Geschichte, 2:360–61; Fiorelli, Tortura, 1:149–50. 132. Citing one or other volume of Decisiones of Tommaso Grammatico (d. 1556); see DBI, 58:409–11. See Viviana Ventura, “Profilo di Tommaso Grammatico, giurista e letterato,” Scritti di storia del diritto offerti dagli allievi a Dominico Maffei, ed. Mario Ascheri (n.p., n.d.), pp. 353–76. 133. Giovanni de Amici, Consilia (Venice, 1544, 1577; Lyons, 1548, 1549). 134. Gundisalvus de Villa Diego, De haereticis (Lyons, 1536). 135. The Tractatus de indiciis et tortura of Francesco Bruni (d. 1510), first published in Siena in 1495 (Fioreli, Tortura, 1:149), was printed along with the thirteenth-century Tractatus de tormentis sometimes attributed to Guido da Suzzara (ibid., 1:132–45), and another version of it attributed to Baldo de’ Perigli (ibid., 1:135–36), Tractatus tres de indiciis et tortura d. Francisci Bruni, … d. Guidonis de Suzaria, … et d. Baldi de Periglis (Rome, 1543), with later editions published in Lyons in 1546 and 1553. 136. Marcantonio Bianchi, Tractatus de indiciis homicidii ex proposito commissi, et de aliis indiciis homicidii et furti, ad legem finalem ff. “De quaestionibus” (Lyons, 1546, 1549). 137. Paride del Pozzo (d.1493), De syndicatu (Lyons, 1548). 138. Giulio Claro (d. 1575), citing his Practica criminalis (published with his Sententiarum receptarum liber quintus) (Venice, 1568). 139. Diego de Simancas, De catholicis institutionibus; the third edition of 1575 is in the Tractatus uiniversi juris, vol. 11.2, fols. 119–207. 140. Joannes Baptista Plotus, Tractatus de “In litem jurando”; sive, Aurea et solennis repetitio (Venice, 1565). H ENRY ANSGAR KELLY 789 torturing of a suspect who admitted, or was proved guilty of, committing a heretical offense, while maintaining that he did not do it with a heterodox motivation. In this situation, the suspect—or, rather, admitted or convicted culprit—would be tortured to find out his true “intention.” For instance, if a suspect admits to having made a statement against the existence of purgatory but claims that he was only joking, he then would be asked if he has ever believed or still believes that purgatory does not exist. If he says no, the same question is put to him under torture. In the case of Galileo, the inquisitor persuaded him, in an informal meeting outside of court after Galileo’s initial pretrial interrogation, to confess the fault he committed in giving stronger arguments to the Copernican system (which Holy Office consultors had designated previously as heretical) than to the Ptolomaic system in his Dialogue (1632). Galileo agreed and made a formal admission to this effect. But since he insisted that he had acted merely out of vanity, with no intention of affirming heliocentrism, he was subjected to a “rigorous examination” of his present and past beliefs. The original plan seems to have been to examine him before the actual trial,141 as Masini seems to say should be done.142 But in the event, it was only after he was formally charged and he responded with his plea (on May 10, 1633) that the examination was ordered, to be limited in his case to the threat of torture rather than its actual use.143 As previously mentioned, the form of bloodless torture recommended by Huguccio was beating with rods or sticks. By Galileo’s time, the usual method, timed by an hourglass, was to tie a rope to the hands of the subject and to elevate his whole body.144 But when physical defects made this method impracticable (for example, if the subject had only one arm), or if the subject was too young, other forms could be used: fire, the stanghetta, cannette (otherwise called suffoli), or the bacchetta. The fire treatment 141. Le opere di Galileo Galilei, ed. Antonio Favaro, 20 vols. (Florence, 1890–1909, repr. 1929–39), no. 2486 (15:106–07); no. 70 in Thomas F. Mayer’s collection of documents in English translation, The Trial of Galileo, 1612–1633 (Toronto, 2013), pp. 170–71. See also Mayer’s The Roman Inquisition: A Papal Bureaucracy and Its Laws in the Age of Galileo (Philadelphia, 2013); The Roman Inquisition: On the Stage of Italy, c. 1590–1640 (Philadelphia, 2014); and The Roman Inquisition: Trying Galileo (Philadelphia, 2015). 142. Masini, Sacro Arsenale, pp. 37, 46–48; see also pp. 124–31. 143. Sergio Pagano, I documenti Vaticani del processo di Galileo Galilei (1611–1741) (Collectanea Archivi Vaticani 69, Vatican City, 2009), no. 138, p. 193 (Mayer, Trial of Galileo, no. 78, p. 184; no. 80, pp. 186–88). 144. Masini, Sacro Arsenale, pp. 122–24. It did not include the so-called strappado, or jerking drop. 790 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS (which, we are told, was rarely used because of the danger involved) consisted of coating the subject’s feet with lard and holding them near flames.145 The stanghetta involved squeezing the heel of the right foot with a makeshift metal clamp.146 Cannette were tubes put between fingers, which were then squeezed.147 A bacchetta was a cane, for use on children older than age nine. The child was stripped, with hands tied in front, and then struck many times.148 It must be remembered, of course, that the inquisitors had to be careful not to spill any blood or cause any permanent damage, for otherwise they would have to be cleared of clerical irregularity (which, however, could be done with little formality or trouble). Masini’s handbook and other authorities of the time give the distinct impression that torture had become very much a routine part of the ecclesiastical court system, with few qualms about its use. 145. Masini, Sacro Arsenale, pp. 131–34: “Cum ipse constitutus tormento funis torqueri non posset, eo quia manifeste esset brachio mancus vel ruptus, etc., decreverunt ipsum constitutum torquendum esse tormento ignis …. Mandaverunt eundem dicto tormento ignis supponitur .... Qui sic suppositus, nudatis pedibus, illisque lardo porcino inunctis et in cippis juxta ignem validum retentis,” etc. (“Since the constituent could not be tortured with the torture of the rope because he was lacking an arm or damaged, etc., they decreed that he should be tortured with the torture of fire …. They ordered him brought to the torture of fire, . . . and when this was done, his feet were bared and coated with pig lard and held by stakes near a strong fire,” etc.). 146. Ibid.: “Decreverunt ipsum esse torquendum tormento taxillorum, quod stanghetta nuncupatur…. Qui sic dicto tormento suppositus in terra prostratus, talo pedis dextri denudato inter duos ferreos taxillos concavos posito et ministro eos stanghetta comprimente,” etc. (“They decreed that he should be tortured with the torture of clamps, which is called the stanghetta [pincers]…. Who when he was brought to the said torture was prostrated on the ground and, with the heel of his right foot bared, it was placed between two concave iron clamps, while the minister squeezed them with the pincers,” etc.). 147. Ibid.: “Decreverunt ipsum esse torquendum tormento sibilorum…. Qui sic dicto tormento suppositus, manibus ante junctis et inter binos earum singulos digitos sibilis accommodatis, et ministro fortiter praemente,” etc. (“They decreed that he should be tortured with the torture of the tubes [cannette]…. Who when brought to the said torture, with his hands tied before him and the tubes placed between his fingers, and the minister strongly squeezing them together,” etc.). 148. Ibid.: “Del modo di batter con la bacchetta i fanciulli, che però trapassino il nono anno della loro età” (“On the method of using the cane to beat youths, who, however, must be older than the age of nine”). “Cum … ipse constitutus ob ejus minorem aetatem torqueri minime valeret, decreverunt ipsum constitutum ferula caedendum esse…. Qui sic ductus, spoliatus, et manibus ad funem ante faciem alligatis . . . cum pluribus et pluribus verberibus caesus,” etc. (“since the constituent could not be tortured because of his minor age, they decreed that he was to be beaten with the cane …. Who when so taken, after being unclothed and his hands tied before him . . . was struck with many, many blows,” etc.). H ENRY A NSGAR K ELLY 791 Conclusion Until Gregory IX’s Decretales or Liber Extra was issued in 1234, there was no universal canon law. Rather, there were a number of canons (decrees, pronouncements, directives, advice) addressed to individual persons and regions. But many of these canons, as they appeared in great collections, were taken to apply universally. Of these collections, the last and greatest was recognized to be that of Gratian of Bologna (it is only recently that we have come to see that his original collection was heavily supplemented by “Deutero-Gratian”—that is, an unknown person or persons, possibly Gratian himself or including Gratian). One of Gratian’s goals was to point out and resolve contradictions in various laws. Another goal, equally pedagogical, was to illustrate the workings of law in sample court cases; the great bulk of his collection was divided into such cases—the causae of part 2. Gratian’s opinions, or dicta, were highly valued, almost as if he were a lawmaker himself. Such an attitude may have been fostered by the informal title given to his work, Decretum Gratiani (as if the whole were a pronouncement by Gratian), along with a seeming convention among his commentators never to contradict him openly.149 Gratian himself brings up the matter of judicial torture only once: in Case 15, concerning a priest, who, among other things, is accused of killing a person; the priest’s bishop extorts a confession from him by torture. This raises Question 6 of the case: Should the confession have been obtained by torture? When Gratian reaches this point in his treatment, he does not present the straightforward dictum “No, it was not justified to extort the confession by torture.” Rather, he says: “The following letter by Pope Alexander shows that a confession should not be extorted by torture.” When Huguccio in the 1180s came to comment on this statement, he could have agreed that the priest in the case should probably not have been tortured for his confession, while pointing out that the example that Gratian gives is not appropriate, since it does not involve court cases but criminal kidnappings; then going on to say that torture is indeed appropriate in many kinds of judicial actions, as is clear from other canons cited by Gratian: they include the sort of homicide case in Gratian’s illustration, but only if presumptions against the defendant are sufficiently strong. Instead, Huguccio ignored the context of Gratian’s court case and simply professed to agree with Gratian’s judgment about the canon Si sacerdotibus—that it was wrong 149. Exceptions to the practice of not criticizing Gratian are to be found in the Summa parisiensis; see Terence P. McLaughlin, ed., The Summa Parisiensis on the Decretum Gratiani (Toronto, 1952), pp. xvi–xvii. 792 JUDICIAL TORTURE IN CANON LAW AND CHURCH TRIBUNALS for kidnappers to torture their victims, and that concessions made under torture were invalid. He went on to state that it was right for judges to use torture in many cases, as Gratian shows in other canons. Elsewhere, drawing on another canon in the Decretum, His a quibus, Huguccio cautioned that clerics were not to employ methods of torture that would result in bloodshed or permanent damage, since it would render them canonically “irregular.” Huguccio’s analyses were taken over a generation later by John Teutonicus, whose commentary was accepted as the Ordinary Gloss to Gratian, as it was edited another generation later by Bartholomew Brixiensis and aligned with the laws of the Liber Extra. These glosses were the starting point of all further discussions, including those of Fieschi; and it is hardly likely that when Fieschi became Pope Innocent IV in 1243, he should have thought that heresy inquisitors needed special permission to use torture in their tribunals. Both heresy and simony had come to be recognized, along with treason (lese-majesty) as a crimen exceptum. In such crimes, torture could be used even against accusers in the practically obsolete procedure of accusatio, as well as against witnesses and defendants. But it is wrong to think that torture of defendants was allowable in heresy trials only because of the exceptional heinousness of the crime. If clerics charged with ordinary offenses could be tortured in church courts, why not persons charged with heresy? Augustine’s perceived authorization of the torture of criminal defendants in the canon Circumcelliones, collected by Gratian himself, was sufficient; moreover, another canon of Augustine’s, Si res aliena, also in Gratian’s original compendium, supported the use of torture in civil cases on pecuniary matters. However, the fact that heresy was an exceptional crime undoubtedly influenced judges to be less demanding in determining what indicia were sufficient to warrant the torture of defendants. But the main “advantage” to prosecutors of excepted crimes was that usually unsuitable witnesses, even criminosi et infames, could be used against the defendants. If, however, there was no need for papal permission to use torture in heresy cases, what was the significance of the instruction to lay authorities in the bull Ad extirpanda (issued multiple times by Innocent IV, Alexander IV, and Clement IV) to use the sort of nonlethal force on heresy suspects that they employed on common criminals to obtain information? One answer suggested above is that the popes were authorizing pretrial torture on suspects before they were delivered to the heresy inquisitors. The bull seems to have been taken by the Toulouse inquisitor Bernard Guy as permission for the inquisitors themselves to torture suspects when interrogating them before officially charging them with crimes. HENRY ANSGAR KELLY 793 It is in Guy’s time, at the beginning of the fourteenth century, that definite proof is found of the use of torture in heresy proceedings, in the actions in France against the Knights Templar. It also is found by inference in Guy’s practice and in the complaints that reached the Council of Vienne in 1311–12, resulting in the Clementine constitution Multorum querela. Striking examples of its use on nonheresy charges—namely, treason, attempted murder, and black magic—can be seen in the trial of Bernard Delicios in 1319. Bishop Fourniers of Pamiers was one of the presiding bishops, making use in one instance of a priest well known for his expertise in inflicting judicial torture and, in another, of an archdeacon who was assisting him in heresy inquisitions in his diocese. The shady practice by French inquisitors of forcing heresy suspects to testify as witnesses against themselves as well as others (de se et aliis) was adopted by Eymeric and subsequent authorities, including Peña and Masini; they also accepted the use of torture at this stage. Like the interrogations themselves, such use of torture was a violation of due process, which required the prosecution’s case to be presented against the defendant and the opportunity for the accused to offer a defense before any torture could be used. This sort of coercive invasion of a suspect’s realm of conscience was further extended at the turn of the seventeenth century to entail a mandatory examination of past and present belief under torture. Earlier in this article, the use of torture at the pre-arraignment stage was likened to the illegal American practice of the third degree. There is a further similarity, in that the implements of choice in the administering of the third degree have traditionally been rubber hoses and telephone books. The reason for these methods was to escape detection by leaving no telltale marks, whereas the use of less severe methods in ecclesiastical tribunals was not only to prevent serious injury to the suspects but also to avoid the spiritual contamination of bloodshed. It might be thought that the theoretically bloodless methods of scourging and caning would fall short of any meaningful definition of torture. But authorities like Innocent IV recognized that such torture could indeed result in permanent mutilation or death. It should also be obvious that the newer methods of bloodless torture that had developed by the seventeenth century readily answered, prima facie, to any understanding of judicial torture. As for earlier methods that were likened to domestic or school discipline, recent changes of opinion about the corporal punishment of children seem to indicate that views will vary on what methods of judicial coercion should be classified as torture. The Attitude of the Holy See Toward Sport During the Interwar Period (1919–39) DRIES VANYSACKER* During the interwar period (1919–39), nations used sport and athletes for propaganda purposes, especially those countries with fascist and National Socialist ideologies. Through insights gleaned from the archives of the Vatican Secretariat of State and the Archivio Segreto Vaticano, the author discusses how the Holy See, at every level, regarded this phenomenon. Keywords: athletics, fascism, Holy See, interwar period, National Socialism T he Catholic Church has always shown particular concern for the many different facets of human existence, including athletic activities. Nevertheless, the historiography on this topic has never been abundant. Besides some early exceptions, one almost has to wait for the pontificate of John Paul II and particularly the official establishment of the Church and Sport Section within the Pontifical Council for the Laity on January 23, 2004, for evidence of activity in this realm.1 This section, which was envisioned as a point of reference within the Holy See for all national and international sports organizations, currently serves as a kind of “observatory” for the world of sport at the service of evangelization. One of its spe- *Dr. Vanysacker is professor in the Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies at the Catholic University of Leuven, email: Dries.Vanysacker@theo.kuleuven.be 1. See Dries Vanysacker, “The Catholic Church and Sport: A Burgeoning Territory Within Historical Research,” Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique. Louvain Journal of Church History 108, no. 1 (2013), 344–56. On the early exceptions, see, for example, Gianni Pinto, Lo sport negli insegnamenti pontifici da Pio X a Paolo VI (Rome, 1964); E. H. A. Van den Meerssche, De paus en de sport. Pauselijke uitspraken over de sport en haar problemen, samengebracht door Sporta (Antwerp, 1957); Edmondo De Panfilis, Tempo libero, turismo e sport: la risposta della Chiesa (Rome, 1986); Carlo Rinaldi, Giovanni Paolo II e lo Sport (Rome, 1990); Giovanni Battista Gandolfo and Luisa Vassallo, eds., Lo sport nei documenti pontifici (Brescia, 1994); Leo Kenis, “‘Wat gij ook doet, doet alles ter ere Gods’: Kerkelijke en theologische opvattingen over sport,” in Voor lichaam & geest. Katholieken, lichamelijke opvoeding en sport in de 19de en 20ste eeuw, ed. Mark D’hoker, Roland Renson, and Jan Tolleneer, [Kadoc Studies, 17], (Louvain, 1994), pp. 13–41. 794 DRIES VANYSACKER 795 cific goals is the diffusion of church teachings regarding sport and to promote the study and research of various sports themes, especially those of an ethical nature.2 The Acts of the International Seminars at the Vatican, organized by the Pontifical Council for the Laity with the themes “The World of Sport Today” and “Sport, Education, Faith,” must be seen in this context.3 This is also the case with the publication Sport & Christianity, which contains the English translation of the European seminar “Sport and Christianity: Anthropological, Theological, and Pastoral Challenges” that was held March 1-4, 2007, in Mainz.4 Patrick Kelly rightly states that the relationship between Catholic theological and spiritual traditions and sport in the West has been the subject of little research.5 He finds this omission strange, especially given the importance of the Catholic faith during the medieval and early-modern periods in Europe: When historians and other scholars write about sport during these periods, they tend to describe the games and sports themselves and simply bracket the religious dimension entirely, or they argue that these practices took place for the most part in spite of the Catholic faith of the people, a faith that taught them to regard the body as evil, pleasure as the gateway to sin, and so on.6 In his study, Kelly strives to provide a positive account of the relationship between Catholic theological and spiritual traditions, and the games and sports in medieval and early-modern times.7 In almost all of the six chapters in his book,8 Kelly deals with the recurring narrative in Western sports history writing that assumes that Christians, prior to the Reformation, placed a great emphasis on the soul and the spiritual realm while disregard2. See, for example, Josef Clemens, “The Christian Mission Within the Field of Sport,” in Sport & Christianity. A Sign of the Times in the Light of Faith, ed. Kevin Lixey, L. C. Christoph Hübenthal, Dietmar Mieth, and Norbert Müller (Washington, DC, 2012), pp. 1–12. 3. Pontificium Consilium pro Laicis, The World of Sport Today. A Field of Christian Mission. International Seminar. Vatican, 11–12 November 2005, [Laity Today. A Series of Studies Edited by the Pontifical Council for the Laity, 10], (Vatican City, 2006); Pontificium Consilium pro Laicis, Sport, Education, Faith. Towards a New Season for Catholic Sports Associations. International Seminar. Vatican, 6–7 November 2009, [Laity Today. A Series of Studies Edited by the Pontifical Council for the Laity, 17], (Vatican City, 2011). 4. Lixey et al., eds., Sport & Christianity. 5. Patrick Kelly, Catholic Perspectives on Sports: From Medieval to Modern Times (Mahwah, NJ, 2012). 6. Kelly, Catholic Perspectives, p. 1. 7. Ibid., p. 1. 8. Ibid., pp. 7–65. 796 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT ing, if not disdaining, the body. The author states that this assumption is not accurate.9 He contextualizes this mistake within the historiography of the last twenty-five years, in which historians, sociologists, theologians, and religious studies scholars have written a great deal about the influence of Protestants on modern sport in the United Kingdom and the United States.10 Their suggestion is that Christians and theologians have only recently, and somewhat reluctantly, embraced sports as a legitimate field of inquiry.11 To the contrary, Kelly states that Christians in the medieval and early-modern periods believed that the material world in the Christian life superseded the views held by the Gnostics, the Manicheans, and others. They developed their arguments by appealing to central Christian beliefs regarding the goodness of the created world, the Word becoming flesh, and the resurrection of the whole person—body, soul, and spirit.12 This article will examine the attitude of the Holy See toward sport during the interwar period (1919–39). During this era, nations used sport and athletes for propaganda purposes—especially those countries with extreme ideologies such as fascism or National Socialism. How did the Holy See view this phenomenon? The Vatican’s interest in sport and its ideas about sport have varied throughout history, keeping pace with changes in culture and society. Of especial interest is the evolution of the attitude of the Catholic Church toward modern sport, which emerged at the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century. A search of the official Web site of the Vatican yields nearly 200 discourses on sport (from simple greetings to more elaborate speeches) by the pontiffs of the twentieth century: three by St. Pius X, one by Benedict XV, five by Pius XI, twenty by Pius XII, nine by John XXIII, thirty-five by Paul VI, 120 by John Paul II, and two by Benedict XVI.13 Thus the Church’s way of thinking regarding 9. Ibid., p. 24. 10. Ibid., p. 1. 11. See, for example, D. Stanley Eitzen and George H. Sage, “Religion and Sport,” in Religion and Sport: The Meeting of Sacred and Profane, ed. Charles S. Prebish (Westport, CT, 1993), pp. 80–117; and Clifford Wallace Putney, Muscular Christianity: The Strenuous Mood in American Protestantism, 1880–1920 (Cambridge, MA, 2001), pp. 50–51. There is a very interesting overview in Nick J. Watson, Stuart Weir, and Stephen Friend, “The Development of Muscular Christianity in Victorian Britain and Beyond,” Journal of Religion & Society, 7 (2005), https://dspace.creighton.edu/xmlui/bitstream/handle/10504/64420/2005-2.pdf? sequence=1. 12. Kelly, Catholic Perspectives on Sports, p. 93. 13. See the Vatican Web site, http://www.vatican.va/phome_en.htm. DRIES VANYSACKER 797 sport, which began with only cursory mentions and gradually developed with greater intensity and clarity, has come about by the initiative of the supreme pontiffs. They showed a special interest in sport throughout the twentieth century, even if some of their discourses were only for a specific occasion. Throughout the years, the Church has tended to take a stance— albeit one that is unofficial—regarding sport and its relationship to the faith and the general ethical principles of the Church. Yet, this set of teachings never has been developed to the point of expression in an official church document. Regarding the sporting phenomena, the popes have formulated a unique synthesis, based on principles of the moral order, about the physical and emotional well-being of the human person. They have noted the physical, psychological, and spiritual benefits that come from the practice of sport, while underlining the risks and related dangers that derive from serious distortions of fundamental ethical norms.14 Catholic sports organizations came into existence at the end of the nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth century as fruits of the encyclical Rerum novarum (1891) by Pope Leo XIII. Although Rerum novarum does not address sport specifically, it deals with the world of work and leisure, and thus indirectly deals with sport. In this context, parishes began to focus more directly on their youth and proposed sporting activities as an effective means for their development. In addition, the Union internationale des oeuvres catholiques d’éducation physique (UIOCEP) was established officially in Rome on December 13–14, 1911.15 This international sports institution was based on a collaboration among the Belgian Catholic Gymnastic Federation (Fédération belge catholique de gymnastique, or FBCG), the French Catholic Sporting Federation (Fédération gymnastique et sportive des patronages de France, or FGSPF) and the 14. Carlo Mazza, “Sport as Viewed from the Church’s Magisterium,” in The World of Sport Today. A Field of Christian Mission, pp. 55–73. 15. L’Église, le sport et l’Europe. La Fédération internationale catholique d’éducation physique (FICEP) à l’épreuve du temps (1911–2011), ed. Laurence Munoz and Jan Tolleneer, [Collection «Espaces et Temps du Sport»] (Paris, 2011). This book is written on the occasion of the centenary of the Fédération Internationale Catholique d’Éducation Physique et Sportive (FICEP). Today, FICEP has about 3.5 million members in twelve European countries, as well as Cameroon and Madagascar. FICEP is an international sports federation that seeks to educate youth in human and Christian values through sporting and other recreational activities. Inspired by the strong formative value of these activities and the teachings of the Gospel, it brings youth together from different countries for international athletic and recreational events. To facilitate these objectives, FICEP is assisted by a youth commission that focuses on human development, a pastoral commission that attends to the spiritual guidance of participants, and a sports commission that organizes the annual FICEP games. 798 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT Catholic Italian Sports Federation (Federazione delle associazioni sportive cattoliche italiane, or FASCI), which were established in, respectively, 1892, 1898, and 1906. Between 1905 and 1908, these federations assembled for several international gymnastics competitions, and they conceived the idea of uniting all Catholic sports associations under one international organization. In 1908 Pope Pius X (r. 1903–14) gave impetus to this project by receiving the participants of the first international competition of Catholic gymnastics and sports in the Vatican’s inner courtyard. The favorable attitude of Pius X toward sport, discussions regarding Rome as a site for the 1908 Olympics (which eventually were held in London), and the role of the Holy See in Catholic sports organizations can be seen in 1904–06, 1908, and 1913. Several descriptions of the sporting events held within the Vatican and in Rome were published in the journals La Civiltà Cattolica and L’Illustrazione Italiana. The correspondence between Cardinal Merry del Val, Vatican secretary of state, and Pierre de Coubertin, the “father” of the modern Olympic Games, during 1905–06 is significant concerning the potential candidacy of Rome as host of the 1908 Games. The sources show a positive inclination of the Holy See toward the project, but they also highlight its very difficult political position during that period, better known as the “Pope as a prisoner in the Vatican,” that occurred between the capture of Rome in 1870 and the Lateran treaty of 1929.16 The interwar period is especially important for the attitude of the Vatican toward the excesses of sport in the context of the totalitarian ideologies of Nazism and fascism. Various historians have already studied the 16. See the booklet by Antonella Stelitano, Quirino Bortolato, and Alejandro Mario Dieguez, Pio X, le Olimpiadi e lo sport, [Collana Centro Studi Pio X, 1], (Treviso, 2012). It is a pity that the authors did not investigate the field of international heuristics concerning the attitude of Pope Pius X toward sport and the use of the bicycle by members of the clergy, as one would have noticed that much material was already published and known outside of Italy. See Munoz and Tolleneer, L’Église; Willi Schwank, Kirche und Sport in Deutschland von 1848 bis 1920 (Hochheim, 1979); Philippe Rocher, “Une nouvelle chevalerie catholique contre le néopaganisme du sport moderne: L’Église catholique et le vélo, XIXe–XXe siècles,” in Rêves de Chrétienté, Réalités du monde: Imaginaires catholiques, ed. Laurence Van Ypersele and AnneDolorès Marcélis (Paris/Louvain-la-Neuve, 2001), pp. 341–68; and Dries Vanysacker, “Véhicule moderniste ou instrument d’apostolat? Le dilemme de Giuseppe Melchiorre Sarto/Pie X envers l’utilisation de la bicyclette par le clergé (1894–1908),” in La papauté contemporaine (XIX e–XX e siècles). Il papato contemporaneo (secoli XIX–XX). Hommage au chanoine Roger Aubert, professeur émérite à l’Université catholique de Louvain, pour ses 95 ans, ed. Jean-Pierre Delville and Marko Jacov, with Luc Courtois, Françoise Rosart, and Guy Zelis, [Bibliothèque de la Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, fasc. 90], (Louvain-la-Neuve/Leuven, 2009), pp. 245–54. DRIES VANYSACKER 799 attitude of the authoritarian regimes toward sport.17 In Italy, Catholic Action opposed the nomination of Catholic cyclist Gino Bartali (1914– 2000) as a Christian Knight to the sportsmen of the Benito Mussolini regime.18 But what was the view of the Vatican and its diplomatic corps on that particular evolution of sports politics? Pope Pius XI (Achille Ratti) was a well-known Alpinist; his career as a serious mountaineer extended from 1885 to 1913.19 His pastoral letter of August 20, 1923, to Bishop Florent-Michel-Marie-Joseph du Bois de la Villerabel of Annecy in honor of Bernard of Menthon, patron saint of mountain climbers, encapsulates the special meaning that the mountains had for the Catholicism of the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. The pope’s conclusion recognizes effort, determination to achieve a goal without indulging in heroics and competitiveness, marriage of mind and body in contact with nature, and contemplation of the sublime as a reflection of God.20 It was the true cult of the mountain that became a social and pedagogical dimension of twentieth-century Italian Catholicism. However, at meetings of the Italian Alpine Club in 1939–40, Pius XI’s virtues as a mountaineer were invoked on a fascist note, as if to erase the memory of his great opposition to Mussolini at the end of his life. His climbing ability was linked to the achievement of the Lateran Treaty and to the courage he displayed in confronting the Bolsheviks while he was serving as nuncio to Poland.21 What was the attitude of Pius XI toward the appropriation by Italian fascists of Alpine pursuits and other sports? How 17. See, for example, Pierre Arnaud and James Riordan, eds., Sport and International Politics (New York, 1998), with contributions by Allen Guttmann on “The ‘Nazi Olympics’ and the American Boycott Controversy,” pp. 31–50; James Riordan on “The Sports Policy of the Soviet Union, 1917–1941,” pp. 67–78; Arnd Kruger on “The Role of Sport in German International Politics, 1918–1945,” pp. 79–96; Teresa Gonzalez Aja on “Spanish Sports Policy in Republican and Fascist Spain,” pp. 97–113; Pierre Arnaud on “French Sport and the Emergence of Authoritarian Regimes, 1919–1939,” pp. 114–46; and Angela Teja on “Italian Sport and International Relations Under Fascism,” pp. 147–70. 18. Stefano Pivato, Sia lodato Bartali. Ideologia, cultura e miti dello sport cattolico (1936– 1948) (Rome, 1985). 19. See Achille Ratti/Pope Pius XI, Climbs on Alpine Peaks (New York, 1923); Giovanni Bobba and Francesco Mauro, Scritti alpinistici del sacerdote Dott. Achille Ratti (ora S.S. Pio Papa XI) (Milan, 1923); Domenico Flavio Ronzoni, Achille Ratti. Il prete alpinista che diventò Papa (Missaglia, 2009). 20. See “Lettera Di Sua Santità Pio Xi, ‘Quod Sancti,’ al Vescovo Di Annecy Fiorenzo Du Bois De La Villerabel,” http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/pius_xi/letters/documents/hf_ p-xi_lett_19230820_quod-sancti_it.html 21. Emma Fattorini, Hitler, Mussolini and the Vatican. Pope Pius XI and the Speech That Was Never Made (Cambridge, UK, 2011), pp. 22–24. 800 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT did the Vatican cope with the cult of the human body as such and its use for the glory of National Socialism in Germany, with the Berlin Olympics as the showcase? And what were the views on the subject of Pius XI’s successor, Pius XII (Eugenio Pacelli), during his service as apostolic nuncio (1917–29) and Vatican secretary of state (1929–39)? Research within the Historical Archives of the Vatican Secretariat of State (Segretaria di Stato, Sezione per i Rapporti con gli Stati, Archivio Storico) and within the Archivio Segreto Vaticano (Archives of the Nunciature of Munich, Berlin and of the Nunciature in Italy) provides answers to these questions. Participation in Sports by Youth and Women: The Vatican’s Concerns Since the 1920s, the Vatican was concerned about questions of morality and chastity in the context of public athletic competitions, especially those in which women participated. It started with the reaction of the apostolic nuncio to Germany, Alberto Vassallo di Torregrossa (1865– 1959), and the German bishops concerning the “scandalous” public gymnastic meeting at Neuburg on July 16–17, 1927.22 In the bishops’ view, various exercises executed by the girls did not befit them in a moral sense (because these activities clashed with the concept of female modesty) and in a physical sense (because of the typical female constitution). The girls were considered by the public as a mere object of spectacle and certainly not as a symbol of the edification of the soul. The nuncio claimed it was sad to see that habits uninhibitedly pursued by the Protestants, such as these exaggerated gymnastic meetings and coed public swimming, were followed by Catholics. The German bishops felt it was their duty to warn the faithful of these dangers, especially since these influences were very strong and could be disguised as exercises in hygiene, liberty, and the cult of nature. But this case was not isolated. According to Cardinal Donato Raffaele Sbaretti Tazza (1856–1939), prefect of the Congregation of the Council, the practice in European countries and America of dressing young girls in swimsuits for gymnastic and athletic activities in both public and private venues had inflicted the Catholic world.23 As a consequence, a major inves22. Vatican City, Archivio Segreto Vaticano (ASV), Archivio della Nunziatura di Monaco, Busta 435, fascicolo 2, Posizione XIIIa, fols. 420–30; Segretaria di Stato, Sezione per i Rapporti con gli Stati, Archivio Storico (S.RR.SS.), Congregazione degli Affari Ecclesiastici Straordinari (AA.EE.SS.), Baviera, 1927, Posizione (Pos.) 168, fascicolo (fasc.) 19. 23. ASV, Archivio della Nunziatura di Berlino, Busta 66, fascicolo 3.6. Posizione XII, fol. 115 ( dated March 12, 1928). DRIES VANYSACKER 801 tigation within Catholic schools and associations began in March 1928. The bishops were told that female gymnasts wearing an outfit without a skirt never could perform their routines in the open air, on the street, or during public sporting events. Furthermore, they were told that athletic events for girls should be avoided, or at least all precautions should be taken to protect the Catholic morality and decency of youth. Drawing from a report by Wilhelm Böhler (1891–1958, director of the Center of the Catholic School Organization in Düsseldorf), communications from Jesuit priest Christian Joseph Schröteler (1886–1955), and instructions of the Fulda Bishops Conference of 1925, Pacelli commented on May 29, 1928, that the situation in Germany for Catholics was not easy.24 In the Third Reich, sexual anarchy, female emancipation, the perverse Berliner “Nacktkultur” of Adolf Koch (1896–1970), and the so-called orthopedic or rhythmic schools (such as the Schule Loheland and the Blensdorf-Schule) had contributed to a sense of abandon about male and female bodies, and members of the devout Catholic community feared its effect on their values and culture.25 Common swimming pools for both sexes, male gymnasts in swimsuits, and girls in shorts and tightly fitting sweaters that accentuated their figures were regarded by these Catholics as perverse. Competitions such as the Reichsjugend Wettkämpfe, with the aims of attaining personal glory and exercising excessive ambition, were not legitimate in Pacelli’s view. The warning that such competitions were strongly backed by the regime and were presented for propaganda purposes was very clear. The basis for opposition to women’s participation in public sports events lay in gender roles, since the masculinization of women would threaten the conception of Catholic marriage. During the same period, Pius XI and the Vatican reacted to related initiatives by the fascists in Italy.26 When a three-day gymnastic and athletic competition was scheduled in May 1928 featuring the giovani italiane (a branch of the Opera Nazionale Balilla [ONB] for girls between the ages of thirteen and eighteen) at the Stadio nazionale in Rome, a papal chiro- 24. ASV, Archivio della Nunziatura di Berlino, Busta 66, fasc. 2, fols. 107–14 (Zum Bericht an die Fuldaer Bischofskonferenz 1925. B.2. Sittlichkeitsfragen); ibíd., fasc.3.6. Posizione XII, fols. 117–22 (Böhler to Pacelli, April 7, 1928) and ASV, Archivio della Nunziatura di Berlino, Busta 66, fasc. 3.6, Pos. XII, fols. 123–29 (Draft Pacelli). 25. For a good contextualization of the problem, see Lutz Sauerteig, Krankheit, Sexualität, Gesellschaft. Geschlechtskrankheiten und Gesundheitspolitik in Deutschland im 19. und frühen 20. Jahrhundert (Stuttgart, 1999), pp. 243–45 and Matthew Jefferies, “‘For a Genuine and Noble Nakedness’? German Naturism in the Third Reich,” German History, 24 (2006), 62–84. 26. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1929, Pos. 773, fasc. 317, fols. 77r–88r. 802 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT graph and several articles in the Osservatore Romano were published.27 Augusto Turati (1888–1955), organizer of the event and secretary of the Partito Nazionale Fascista, and his fascist pedagogic ideals were targeted in particular. The author Gigliola Gori states that this attitude of what she calls the “misogynistic Vatican” is old-fashioned and inherently hostile, but this point of view fails to take in the full picture.28 Pius XI, as well as the Osservatore Romano, were not against individual female athletes. Rather, the pope and the paper frowned on a public competition between girls and certainly one involving women running, doing the high and long jumps, throwing the javelin, and target-shooting with a carbine. They argued that even in the times of pagan Rome (the model of fascist Italy), women never participated in public spectacles.29 Because they viewed sport as a noble tool of the soul that made the human body more supple, healthy, and strong, it had to be done in the correct way, at the right places, and in a manner that did not endanger honesty and decency, as well as encourage vanity and violence.30 This point of view, as well as the belief that a mas27. Chirograph of Piux XI to Cardinal Basilio Pompilj, vicar general of Rome, on May 3, 1928 (see Acta Apostolicae Sedis. Commentarium officiale, annus XX–Volumen XX, Romae, Typis Polyglottis Vaticanis, 1928, pp. 135–37 and http://www.vatican.va/archive/aas/documents/AAS%2020%20[1928]%20-%20ocr.pdf. The Articles that appeared in the Osservatore Romano: “Gli ideali femminili … sul moschetto,” April 29, 1928, 2; “Un antico maestro cristiano dell’educazione fisica,” May 5, 1928, 1; and “Un nuovo concorso ginnastico femminile: La nostra protesta,” November 16, 1928, 1. On the Opera Nazionale Balilla (ONB), the international youth association established by Law no. 2247, on April 3, 1926, and assumed on November 20, 1927, physical education for young people from the Ente Nazionale per l’Educazione Fisica (ENEF, or National Institute for Physical Education), see, for example, Teja, “Italian Sport and International Relations Under Fascism,” pp. 147–70. 28. Gigliola Gori, Italian Fascism and the Female Body. Sport, Submissive Women and Strong Mothers (New York, 2004), p. 89: “Most Italians were much more aware of, and much more deeply influenced by, the intransigent hostility of the Church to women’s participation in sport. This hostility was exemplified by Pope Pius XI’s objections to a women’s gymnastics competition in Rome in 1928.” 29. “Il Vescovo di Roma non può infatti non deplorare che qui nella città santa del Cattolicismo, dopo venti secoli di cristianesimo, la sensibilità e l’attenzioni ai delicati reguardi dovuti alla giovana donna ed alla fanciulla siasi mostrata più debole che non nella Roma pagana, la quale, pur discesa a tanto scadimento di costumi, adottando dalla vinta Grecia i pubblici ludi e concorsi ginnici ed atletici, per motivo di ordine fisica e morale di puro buon senso, ne escludeva la giovana donna, esclusano del resto anche in molte città della stessa Grecia tanto più corrotta” (chirograph of Pius XI). 30. “È bensì vero che non si vogliono qui ripetere le audacie o piuttosto le sconvenienze altrove lamentate e Ce ne danno speranza le precauzioni prese e le istruzioni fino all’ultima ora impartite dagli organizzatori e responsabili; ma la natura e la sostanza delle cose permangono pur sempre le stesse, con le accennate aggravanti del luogo e dei precedenti storici; permane sempre il vivo contrasto con le speciali delicate esigenze della educazione femminile, immensamente più delicate e rispettabili quando questa educazione vuole e deve essere edu- DRIES VANYSACKER 803 culinization of women should be avoided, remained the basis of the Vatican’s attitude toward sport. This vision was shared by Olympics proponent de Coubertin. In a letter dated February 1930, he asked the pope to confirm the Vatican’s position regarding feminine sport spectacles, to condemn violent sports for girls and sports by which they were masculinized (“to ride a horse like the men”), and to help him end certain youth sport competitions (individual and team) that displayed disturbing tendencies. The public health, in his view, was in danger by such excesses in athletics.31 The reaction of the Holy See must be considered in light of the fascist view of sport imposed on men and women at that time. As Gori puts it, the myth of the new Italian—symbolized by Mussolini, the Duce— was induced to assume the Fascist style, which was based on supporting the canons of beauty advocated by the regime and like the ancient Romans, putting mens sana in corpore sano at the service of the cause. By a colossal hierarchical organization, the regime inserted all citizens (boys and girls) into it from birth, assuming that the youngest bodies and minds would accept the new creed more easily and thus assure the faithful perpetuation of the regime.32 To accomplish its aims, the fascist state needed to address physical, moral, intellectual, and civic education, including daily gymnastics at school, and had to found many physical education institutes for the training of future teachers. However, the fascist models of femininity shifted. In the first half of the 1920s the training of women’s bodies was supported by the fascist movement, which still retained some revolutionary spirit of its early years. In the second half of the decade, sportswomen came to be considered as both the ideal ambassadors of the new “fascist style,” throughout the country and abroad, and as ideal mothers of strong children.33 After the Concordat of 1929, the fascist regime even seemed to be inclined to follow the Vatican path regarding feminine sport. According to Gori, cazione cristiana. Nessuno può pensare che questa escluda o meno apprezzi tutto quello che può dare al corpo, nobilissimo strumento dell’anima, agilità e solida grazia, sanità e forza vera e buona; purché sia nei debiti modi e tempi e luoghi; purché si eviti tutto quello che male si accorda col riserbo e con la compostezza che sono tanto ornaménto e presidio della virtù; purché esuli ogni incentivo a vanità e violenza” (chirograph of Pius XI). 31. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1929, Pos. 773, fasc. 317, fols. 86r and 88r. Quotation: “monter à cheval comme des hommes.” 32. Gori, Italian Fascism and the Female Body, p. 18. 33. Ibid., p. 75. 804 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT once the revolutionary vigour that had characterized fascism in its early years had been exhausted, female athleticism was no longer encouraged, and the model of the dynamic and socially emancipated woman of the 1920s was replaced by the model of the flourishing and prolific mother.34 The dossiers within the diplomatic archives of the Holy See from the 1930s onward seem to confirm this assertion, since there are no longer discussions or cases about morality and chastity during public gymnastic, athletic, and sporting competitions. Rather, the preserved dossiers concern the adaptation of the Catholic schools for girls to the laws of the fascist state concerning physical education. Thus, dossiers by the Italian State show required certifications of female teachers in physical education within Catholic schools. Since the ONB had taken over in 1927, only female teachers in physical education that were certified by the fascist Accademia Nazionale Femminile di Educazione Fisica of Orvieto (established in 1934) were admitted. Sisters with certificates from the former Istituti di Magistero di Educazione Fisica in Rome, Torino, and Naples were no longer permitted to teach. They had to obtain their certificate at the Accademia of Orvieto. Exceptions were no longer accepted by Renato Ricci (1896–1956), assistant secretary of the Department of National Education.35 One file concerns the request for female swimmers to be assisted by religious sisters of their own school, rather than coached only by female lay teachers of the regime. Thanks to the intervention of Jesuit priest Pietro Tacchi Venturi (1861–1956), this was finally allowed.36 Another item concerns the religious instruction of the male students at the fascist Accademia Nazionale di Educazione Fisica at the Roman Farnesina. A delegation of forty students of the Farnesina intended to visit the Castle Heights Military Academy in Lebanon, Tennessee, from May to July 1931. Pacelli, then the Vatican secretary of state, informed Pietro Fumasoni-Biondi, apostolic delegate to the United States, of the trip so the latter could ascertain if it would cause a scandal. Bishop Alfonse Smith of Nashville provided information to Fumasoni-Biondi about the school, including its devotion to physical exercise. Fumasoni-Biondi saw only one major problem: the school followed the naturalistic philosophy of Bernarr Macfadden (1868–1955), founder of the journal Physical Culture. Although Pius XI had received Macfadden in September 1930 during Macfadden’s tour to study the public health, physical condition, and moral state of European 34. Gori, Italian Fascism and the Female Body, p. 89. 35. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1931–1937, Pos. 841, fasc. 480, fols. 24r–33r; S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1937, Pos. 1002, fasc. 684, fols. 47r–67r. 36. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1936, Pos. 1014, fasc. 698, fols. 25r–33r. DRIES VANYSACKER 805 youth, the reputation of the fitness expert was not the best. According to the dossier on the desk of the Vatican secretary of state, Macfadden was even considered by some worried Catholics to be “a pornographer with yellow gloves under the false pretenses of aesthetics and physical education.” Smith was finally able to reassure Pacelli by ensuring that the Italian boys had religious guidance during their trip.37 The religious instruction of the more than 800 students at the Accademia Fascista di Roma (Farnesina), which taught boys, and the fascist Accademia Nazionale Femminile di Educazione Fisica of Orvieto, which taught girls, remained a hot topic for the Holy See. Only in November 1935 was Msgr. Antonio Giordani (1877–1960), the military chaplain and so-called “Bishop of the Balilla,” able to announce the official appointment of Benjamino Zambetti (1900–2001), S.C.J., as chaplain of both academies.38 Within the context of sports, medical and social debates, and controversies over female athleticism in Italy during the thirties, the Osservatore Romano responded in May 1934 to an article published in the Domenica Sportiva that claimed that competitive sports harmed neither the body nor the fertility of women.39 Based on the findings of several famous Italian and foreign physicians, the official medium of the Holy See refuted this theory. According to the anonymous author, female sport surely had its hygienic function, but harmful excesses should be avoided, given the delicate state of the female body and the need to prepare for motherhood. Gymnastics as such, a sensible course of physical education, and sports conducted in a reasonable way were not prohibited for girls and women in the response.40 37. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1931–1937, Pos. 841, fasc. 480, fols. 1r–16v. Quotation: “pornografo in guanti gialli a spese dell’estetica e della salute fisica.” 38. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Italia, 1931–1937, Pos. 841, fasc. 480, fols. 17r–21v. On Giordani, see, for example, Francesco Marchisio, ed., Cappellani militari 1870–1970 (Rome, 1970), p. 71. 39. For the context, see for example, Gori, Italian Fascism and the Female Body, pp. 75–91. 40. “Lo sport femminile, dunque, può indubbiamente avere una sua funzione igienica, ma deve essere sorvegliato e preservato dagli eccessi dannosi per la delicata funzione della maternità” . . . . “Il che non esclude—sia detto a scanso di malintesi—che ella si dedichi alla ginnastica, ad una sana educazione fisica e, magari, a qualche sport, il tutto razionalmente inteso e praticato. Nessuno più sostiene che la donna debba astenersi dagli esercizi fisici; da tutti si ammette anzzi il contrario” (“La donna e l’atletismo,” Osservatore Romano, May 16, 1934, 3). 806 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT Direct Commentary on Sport by the Vatican from the 1920s and 1930s Dossiers within the Vatican Archives that include more direct commentary on political and ideological concerns about sport are those of the “Sokol” gymnastic associations and the Berlin Olympic Games in 1936. On July 6, 1926, a festival honoring Jan Hus in Prague, which concluded with an international meeting of 140,000 gymnasts, caused trouble for the Vatican. Cardinal Pietro Gasparri (1852–1934), the Vatican secretary of state, contacted Pacelli, who was serving as the apostolic nuncio to Germany at the time. A year earlier, state involvement in the Hus celebrations caused Archbishop Francesco Marmaggi (1870–1949), apostolic nuncio to Czechoslovakia, to quit Prague in protest, and relations between Czechoslovakia and the Vatican were cut off. The Catholic Wends of Upper Lusatia in Germany and Poland, who had Sokol gymnastic associations that were not associated with the Czech followers of Miroslav Tyrš (1832–84), were forbidden to participate. This minority of Catholic West Slavs wrote articles of protest that appeared in publications such as Kulturwehr: Zeitschrift für Minderheitenkultur und Politik. Organ des Verbandes der nationalen Minderheiten Deutschlands, arguing that such a measure was imposed unfairly by Christian Schreiber (1872–1933), the German nationalistic bishop of Meissen.41 In the opinion of Cesare Vincenzo Orsenigo (1873–1946), apostolic nuncio to Germany, the Third Reich had achieved an international success through an efficient organization and the quality of the athletic facilities. The Osservatore Romano confined itself to rather neutral observations about the Games and reported on its religious celebrations: the visit of the apostolic nuncio to the Olympic village and the Masses offered by the nuncio and Konrad von Preysing (1880–1950), bishop of Berlin.42 Observations appeared elsewhere about the ideology of the Nazis, which asserted that National Socialism was the only soul-saving belief for Germany.43 41. ASV, Archivio della Nunziatura di Berlino, Busta 72, 3.3. Pos. XII: Associazioni Dossier Stalhelm, fols. 98r–161r ; S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Cecoslovacchia, 1926–1938, Pos. 77, fasc. 76–80. 42. S.RR.SS., AA.EE.SS., Germania, 1936, Scatole 13, fols. 89r–92r, fols. 113r–14r, and fols. 127r–30r; Osservatore Romano, “Manifestazioni religiose durante le Olimpiadi,” August 17–18, 1936, 6; Osservatore Romano, “I ringraziamenti del Comitato Olimpionico,” August 22, 1936, 6). 43. “Wir glauben auf dieser Erde allein an Adolf Hitler! Wir glauben, dass der Nationalsozialismus der alleinseligmachende Glauben für Deutschland ist! Wir glauben, dass uns der Hergott Adolf Hitler gesandt hat, damit er Deutschland von der heuchlern und Pharisäern DRIES VANYSACKER 807 An excerpt from Pius XI’s encyclical, Mit brennender Sorge, of March 14, 1937, is relevant here: No one would think of preventing young Germans establishing a true ethnical community in a noble love of freedom and loyalty to their country. What We object to is the voluntary and systematic antagonism raised between national education and religious duty. That is why we tell the young: Sing your hymns to freedom, but do not forget the freedom of the children of God. Do not drag the nobility of that freedom in the mud of sin and sensuality. He who sings hymns of loyalty to this terrestrial country should not, for that reason, become unfaithful to God and His Church, or a deserter and traitor to His heavenly country. You are often told about heroic greatness, in lying opposition to evangelical humility and patience. Why conceal the fact that there are heroisms in moral life? That the preservation of baptismal innocence is an act of heroism which deserves credit? You are often told about the human deficiencies which mar the history of the Church: why ignore the exploits which fill her history, the saints she begot, the blessing that came upon Western civilization from the union between that Church and your people? You are told about sports. Indulged in with moderation and within limits, physical education is a boon for youth. But so much time is now devoted to sporting activities, that the harmonious development of body and mind is disregarded, that duties to one’s family, and the observation of the Lord’s Day are neglected. With an indifference bordering on contempt the day of the Lord is divested of its sacred character, against the best of German traditions. But We expect the Catholic youth, in the more favorable organizations of the State, to uphold its right to a Christian sanctification of the Sunday, not to exercise the body at the expense of the immortal soul, not to be overcome by evil, but to aim at the triumph of good over evil (Rom. xii. 21) as its highest achievement will be the gaining of the crown in the stadium of eternal life (1 Cor. ix. 24).44 Conclusion According to Kevin Lixey, Pius XII, in the aftermath of World War II, encouraged sporting activities that were carried out under the leadership of the Church through its Catholic youth and sports associations. The broad vision of Pius XII of “pastoral care” considered youth sport as an opportunity for developing certain natural and Christian virtues. Thus, befreie” (cited in Robert Ley, “Einweihung der KdF Olympiahalle in Berlin,” Evangelische Korrespondenz, August 12, 1936, 4). 44. Pope Pius XI, “Mit brennender Sorge,” http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/pius_xi/ encyclicals/documents/hf_p-xi_enc_14031937_mit-brennender-sorge_en.html. 808 THE ATTITUDE OF THE HOLY SEE TOWARD SPORT Pius XII highlighted sport’s educational dimension. In his ethical evaluation of sport, he primarily stressed natural law, the Decalogue, and the salvific dimension of human existence.45 The Holy See’s attitude toward sport and physical exercise was affected by political and cultural developments. This was certainly the case with Pius X, who had to deal with the establishment of Catholic and other sports organizations as well as the modern Olympic Games. During the difficult interwar period, the former mountaineer Pius XI and his secretaries of state, Gasparri and Pacelli, had to cope with the cult of the human body, the use of it for the glory of nations with extreme ideologies such as fascism and National Socialism, and practices in sport that could affect faith and morals. Archival evidence from the interwar period indicates that the Holy See generally considered noncompetitive youth sport as an opportunity for developing certain natural and Christian virtues. The seemingly negative attitude of the Holy See toward athletic activities involving girls and women also has to be contextualized properly. Gymnastics as such, a judicious program of physical education, and certain sports conducted indoors and in a reasonable way were not prohibited for girls and women in the interwar period. In the Vatican’s view, athletic activities by women surely had their hygienic function, but harmful excesses needed to be curbed, given the delicate state of the female body and the need to prepare for motherhood. The masculinization of women could pose a threat to the concept of Catholic marriage. It cannot be said, however, that a continuous church doctrine exists on the subject of sport, despite the considerable athletic activities of St. John Paul II during his pontificate. That development remains in the future. 45. Kevin Lixey, “Sport in the Magisterium of Pius XII,” in Lixey et al., Sport & Christianity. A Sign of the Times in the Light of Faith, pp. 104–20. Medellín Is “Fantastic”: Drafts of the 1969 Rockefeller Report on the Catholic Church THERESA KEELEY* Since the 1970s, both foreign and U.S. opponents of U.S.-Central America policy have cited the 1969 Rockefeller Report on the Americas: The Official Report of a United States Presidential Mission for the Western Hemisphere as the beginning of U.S. government efforts to eradicate liberation theology. During the 1980s, progressive Catholic press accounts in the United States and abroad emphasized the similarities between the Report and President Ronald Reagan’s approach to Central America. But critics’ charges are misplaced. The Report supported the Church’s leftward turn, and Nelson Rockefeller was the reason. Early report drafts and Rockefeller’s comments reveal that he enthusiastically welcomed the Medellín documents. It was family planning that preoccupied Rockefeller, not communist subversion. Keywords: family planning; liberation theology; Medellín; Rockefeller, Nelson; Rockefeller Report I n a January 1989 pastoral letter, Archbishop Próspero Penados del Barrio of Guatemala railed against Protestants’ growing influence in this Central American nation. From 1969 to 1989, Guatemala’s Protestants increased from 2 percent to approximately 33 percent of the population, the most dramatic increase in Latin America. The archbishop blamed the United States for this growth.1 As he alleged, “The diffusion of Protestantism in Guatemala is more part of an economic and political strategy” of U.S. business and political interests, “than of an authentic religious interest.” To *Dr. Keeley is assistant professor in the department of history at the University of Louisville; email: Theresa.keeley@louisville.edu. The author is grateful to the reviewers of The Catholic Historical Review, attendees of the Georgetown History Department’s faculty seminar, Michael Fine, and Jim and Pat Keeley for their suggestions. This article was supported by the Georgetown University History Department and a grant-in-aid from the Rockefeller Archive Center. Archivist Amy Fitch’s assistance was invaluable. 1. Susan Benech, “Religions Slugging It Out to Win over Guatemalans: Growing Protestant Conversions Threaten Country’s Catholic Majority,” St. Petersburg Times, December 18, 1989, 1A. 809 810 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” Penados, the U.S. desire to promote Protestant conversion was nothing new. In 1969, Penados noted, New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller recommended that President Richard Nixon support Protestant churches’ attempts to counter the Catholic Church’s social justice efforts in Latin America.2 Nixon asked Rockefeller to consult with Latin Americans to assess U.S.Latin America policy and to inform its future development. As part of this project, Rockefeller evaluated the Alliance for Progress, the U.S. aid program to Latin America initiated by President John F. Kennedy in 1961. Based on visits to twenty countries, Rockefeller’s findings were publicly released in 1969 as the Rockefeller Report on the Americas: The Official Report of a United States Presidential Mission for the Western Hemisphere (Report).3 Penados was not alone in making these accusations. In the 1970s and 1980s, U.S. and Latin American Catholics who opposed U.S. policy toward Central America cited the Report as the beginning of U.S. government efforts to eradicate progressive trends in the Catholic Church. In a 1978 interview, Bishop Sergio Méndez Arceo of Cuernavaca argued that U.S. analysts seemed “very preoccupied with the paths the church is taking.” As his first example, he cited the Rockefeller Report’s discussion of the 1968 Medellín conference,4 at which the Latin American bishops concluded that both internal and external structures of society oppressed the majority of Latin Americans through “institutionalized violence.”5 In 1980, journalist Penny Lernoux argued that Rockefeller “warned the U.S. business community of the anti-imperialist nature of the Medellín documents.” She also contended that the Report’s observation that the Catholic Church was “vulnerable to subversive penetration” provided the basis for 1970s U.S. policy toward the Church in Latin America.6 2. Colum Lynch, “Catholics, Evangelicals Tangle amid Latin Turmoil,” San Francisco Chronicle, May 10, 1989, Z1. Before the Report, at the First Inter-American Episcopal Conference in 1959, Brazil’s Bishop Agnelo Rossi contended that Protestantism was “an instrument in disguise of the political imperialism of the U.S.,” and he urged action to combat its growth. James F. Garneau, “The First Inter-American Episcopal Conference, November 2– 4, 1959: Canada and the United States Called to the Rescue of Latin America,” The Catholic Historical Review, 87 (2001), 662–87. 3. Nelson A. Rockefeller, Rockefeller Report on the Americas: The Official Report of a United States Presidential Mission for the Western Hemisphere (Chicago, 1969), pp. 5, 8. 4. Dow Kirkpatrick, “False Language About Medellin,” National Catholic Reporter, September 8, 1978, 15. 5. Latin American Episcopal Conference, “Statement on Peace,” Medellín Conference Documents, September 6, 1968, in Renewing the Earth, ed. David J. O’Brien and Thomas A. Shannon (Garden City, NY, 1977). 6. Penny Lernoux, Cry of the People: United States Involvement in the Rise of Fascism, Torture, and Murder and the Persecution of the Catholic Church in Latin America (Garden City, NY, 1980), pp. 38, 58–59. THERESA KEELEY 811 In the subsequent decade, progressive Catholic press accounts in the United States and abroad extended Lernoux’s argument by emphasizing the similarities between the Report and President Ronald Reagan’s approach to Central America.7 Critics linked the Rockefeller Report to the Santa Fe document in which presidential candidate Reagan’s advisers asserted that “Marxist-Leninist forces have utilized the church as a political weapon against private property and productive capitalism by infiltrating the religious community with ideas that are less Christian than Communist.”8 These allegations regarding the Rockefeller Report have continued into the twenty-first century.9 The charges exist within academia as well.10 Some scholars have argued that the Rockefeller Report advocated the use of conservative religious groups to stamp out progressive Catholicism. As one academic has alleged, the Report noted that “the Catholic church has ceased to be an ally in whom the U.S. can have confidence” and therefore recommended that the U.S. government counter the growth of liberation theology through “an extensive campaign with the aim of propagating Protestant churches and conservative sects in Latin America.”11 Neither passage exists in the Report, as at least one scholar has noted.12 7. See Gary MacEoin, “Nicaragua: A Church Divided,” America, November 10, 1984, 294–99; Patricia Hynds, “The Ideological Struggle Within the Catholic Church in Nicaragua,” Revista Envío (Managua), September 6, 1982, http://www.envio.org.ni/articulo/ 3097, accessed February 3, 2011. 8. Lewis A. Tambs, A New Inter-American Policy for the Eighties (Washington, DC, 1980), p. 20. 9. Juan Hernández Pico, “The Religious Question and the Myth of the Army,” Revista Envío, December 2002, http://www.envio.org.ni/articulo/1627, accessed February 3, 2011; Héctor Sevillano, “Mi Major Amigo, Gustavo Gutiérrez,” El Ciervo (Barcelona), July– August 2003, p. 36. 10. See Miguel Concha Malo, “Los Caminos de la Iglesia en América Latina,” Revista Mexicana de Sociología, 43 (1981), 2069–83, here 2075; Marie Augusta Neal, “Women Religious: Twenty-Three Years after Vatican Council II,” U.S. Catholic Historian, 10, nos. 1–2, (1991–92), 113–18, here 116; Jean-Pierre Bastian, “The Metamorphosis of Latin American Protestant Groups: A Sociohistorical Perspective,” Latin American Research Review, 28, no. 2 (1993), 33–61, here 52. 11. Jeffrey Marishane, “Prayer, Profit and Power: US Religious Right and Foreign Policy,” in “Fundamentalism in Africa: Religion and Politics,” spec. issue, Review of African Political Economy, no. 52, (1991), 73–86, here 75. See also Rafael Aguirre, “El Salvador, Encrucijada Histórica y Lugar Teológico,” El Ciervo, March 1988, 27–28, here 28. 12. David M. Stoll, Is Latin America Turning Protestant? The Politics of Evangelical Growth (Berkeley, 1990), p. 34. 812 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” Although the Report did state that the Church was “vulnerable to subversive penetration,” it did not comment on potential implications for U.S. policy. Observers of the Report have combined this statement, Rockefeller’s footnote on the Medellín conference, and subsequent U.S. government opposition to liberation theology together with Rockefeller’s push for military aid to all Latin American governments, to conclude that the Rockefeller Report was the source. The opposite was true. Contrary to the claims of many, the Report adopted a sympathetic, even supportive, position regarding the Catholic Church’s turn to the left. Based on information learned by the mission team, the final report could have stressed radical trends in the Church and warned of their implications for U.S. policy, but it did not. Rockefeller was the reason. He was concerned about the Catholic Church, but not because he feared liberation theology or because he worried that the U.S. government would lose the Church as a cold war ally, as critics charge. Early drafts of the report and Rockefeller’s comments about the draft report reveal that he enthusiastically welcomed the Medellín documents. Population growth preoccupied Rockefeller, not communist subversion. He focused on the Church’s opposition to artificial methods of birth control because exploding population threatened to derail the Alliance for Progress. Although Kennedy avoided what he regarded as a “politically and medically impractical and morally dubious” issue, Latin America’s population growth at 2.9 percent annually was the world’s fastest.13 Rockefeller’s final report reflected his desire not to lose the Church’s quiet support for family planning that many Latin Americans said existed. It was the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), not the Rockefeller Report, which warned of leftist trends among Catholics and their potential ramifications for U.S. policy. This article reveals Rockefeller’s decision to omit discussion about subversion in the Church by explaining (1) why President Nixon asked Rockefeller to study the issue, (2) the Report’s conclusions about the Church, and (3) why the Report said so little about subversion, given Nixon’s request. It is argued here that a reexamination of the Rockefeller Report provides a more nuanced view of U.S.-Latin America relations in two ways. First, Rockefeller’s support for leftist trends in the Church questions the notion that the U.S. government always viewed liberation theology as a challenge to U.S. influence in Latin America. Rockefeller’s sup- 13. Stephen G. Rabe, The Most Dangerous Area in the World: John F. Kennedy Confronts Communist Revolution in Latin America (Chapel Hill, NC, 1999), pp. 162–63. THERESA KEELEY 813 port for liberation theology bucked the trend among Latin American military governments and U.S. support for them. Second, the misunderstanding of the Report’s treatment of the Church underscores the importance of intra-Catholic conflict in U.S.-Latin America relations. Progressive Catholics argued that the Report revealed the U.S. government’s desire to squelch liberation theology, but they failed to acknowledge that their fellow Catholics opposed liberation theology without any nudging from the U.S. government.14 In this way, this article heeds Eric Zolov’s call for historians to continue moving beyond the rigid categories of right and left in 1960s Latin America in which the left was seen as representing the popular will, whereas the right was “influenced if not directly shaped by Washington and the (ever-present) bogey-man, the CIA.”15 For progressive Catholics, the Report provided an easy way to blame the U.S. government, rather than to examine the divisions among Catholics caused by liberation theology. Rockefeller examined subversive trends in the Catholic Church because President Nixon asked him to do so. A meeting with Colombian President Carlos Lleras Restrepo prompted Nixon’s demand. In his first meeting with a Latin American head of state in June 1969, Nixon invited Lleras to raise topics. Lleras discussed trade, arms, and radical movements in Latin America, among other issues. As he explained, Latin America faced “two radical trends”: communism and “revolutionary priests and even bishops.” Both groups linked ideas about social change to anti-U.S. views, namely charges of U.S. imperialism. Lleras warned that radical priests posed a potential danger because their “simple, unsophisticated” ideas about economics could easily be conveyed to the masses.16 In elaborating on his remarks the next day, Lleras explained that subversive clergy, some of whom were Americans, held anti-U.S. views. Both clergy and Marxists spoke of “imperialism” and “capitalist exploitation.” Colombia’s foreign minister added that some clergy had adopted violent, revolutionary means, and Lleras noted that some who did so were foreign missionaries—namely Maryknoll priests, the oldest U.S. missionary order. 14. For a discussion of intra-Catholic debates over liberation theology, see Penny Lernoux, People of God: The Struggle for World Catholicism (New York, 1989). 15. Eric Zolov, “Introduction: Latin America in the Global Sixties,” The Americas, 70 (2014), 349–62, here 358–59. 16. Memorandum of Meeting, June 12, 1969, Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS). Vol. E–10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocu ments/frus1969-76ve10/d7, accessed December 5, 2011. 814 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” The Colombian president concluded that communist infiltration might not exist, but a “convergence of discontent, slowness in reform and desire to improve things which led the churchmen to simplistic thinking and to sympathy with the simplistic scapegoats the extremists suggested.”17 Lleras’s decision to mention one order, which was U.S.-based, revealed his attempt to show how U.S. clergy fostered instability and perhaps the notoriety of the Melville incident among Latin Americans. In 1967 Maryknoll expelled two priests, brothers Thomas and Arthur Melville, and Sister Marjorie Bradford from Guatemala for involving themselves and others “in plans for starting an armed revolution” in the country.18 The episode drew international attention to Maryknoll, as U.S., Mexican, and Guatemalan newspapers covered the incident.19 The Guatemalan secret police conducted surveillance of Maryknollers, and the government linked the order to revolutionary violence.20 Colombian representatives pointed to U.S. Maryknollers, but they did not mention how one of their own, Camilo Torres, joined the guerrillas. Torres, from an upper-class family, aimed to create a mass organization to overthrow the government. His efforts led to conflict with his country’s church hierarchy, the most conservative in Latin America. Torres left the priesthood rather than face excommunication. Several months later, facing assassination threats, he joined the National Liberation Army. Torres concluded it was better to die in armed struggle than at the hands of an 17. Memorandum of Meeting, June 13, 1969, FRUS, Vol. E–10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve10/d154, accessed December 5, 2011. 18. Maryknoll, NY, Maryknoll Mission Archives (hereafter Maryknoll Fathers and Brothers Archives), Report, John Breen, Regional Superior, to Reverend John J. McCormack, Superior General, 1969, Folder 1, Box 7. There is no typed date, but “9 enero 1969” is handwritten, indicating a mistake or that Breen wrote the report years after the episode. 19. See “3 in Maryknoll Order Suspended for Aiding Guatemala Guerrillas,” Washington Post, January 19, 1968, A17; George Dugan, “Maryknoll Suspends 2 Priests As Guatemala Guerrilla Aides,” New York Times, January 19, 1968, 15; “Two Priests Are Silenced by Superior,” Baltimore Sun, January 19, 1968, A3; “Suspend US Priests Linked to Guerrillas,” Chicago Tribune, January 19, 1968, 2; Editorial, “Why the Alliance Falters,” New York Times, January 27, 1968, 28; Arnold R. Isaacs, “Guatemala Calls a State of Siege,” Baltimore Sun, March 19, 1968, A1. For a discussion of Mexican and Guatemalan press coverage, see Penny Lernoux, Arthur Jones, and Robert Ellsberg, Hearts on Fire: The Story of the Maryknoll Sisters (Maryknoll, NY, 1993), p. 158; Edward Tracy Brett, The U.S. Catholic Press on Central America: From Cold War Anticommunism to Social Justice (Notre Dame, 2003), pp. 50– 57; Report, Breen to McCormack, Maryknoll Fathers and Brothers Archives. 20. Lernoux, Jones, and Ellsberg, Hearts on Fire, p. 158. THERESA KEELEY 815 unknown assassin. He died in his first fight with the guerrillas in 1966.21 Lleras may have emphasized Maryknollers to grab Nixon’s attention and to solicit U.S. assistance. Nixon was likely more open to Lleras’s charges of radicalism within the clergy given the involvement of U.S. priests and nuns in anti-Vietnam War protests.22 Lleras’s charges led Nixon to order reports on the Catholic Church in Latin America from the CIA, State Department, and Rockefeller. At the administration’s first National Security meeting on Latin America, Nixon raised his concern that the Catholic Church was no longer a force for stability in the region. He then asked the CIA to study the issue.23 The president wanted a country-by-country analysis of the Church’s role, its leaders, and current trends, as well as an assessment of both foreign clergy and non-Catholic missionaries.24 Nixon called on the State Department to analyze what led some Catholics “to be radical.” Finally, the president requested that Rockefeller investigate the Church’s role in Latin America as part of his evaluation of the Alliance for Progress.25 At that point, the Rockefeller mission had already begun its work. Likely heeding Nixon’s request, Rockefeller publicly announced the addition of James Noel to the mission four days after Nixon’s meeting with Lleras. Director of Catholic Relief Services for Central America and the Caribbean, Noel lived in Mexico. He joined the mission after the team had 21. Lernoux, Cry of the People, p. 29; Rick Edwards, “Religion in the Revolution? A Look at Golconda,” North American Congress on Latin America (NACLA) Newsletter, February 1970, p. 1. 22. Less than six months after the Melville incident, Tom Melville and Marjorie Bradford, who married after leaving Maryknoll, were part of the “Catonsville Nine.” They burned 378 draft files using homemade napalm outside a Maryland draft board. Although often characterized as an anti-Vietnam war protest led by priests Philip and Daniel Berrigan, the group’s members sought a broader message. The Melvilles said they were protesting “U.S. military interference in Guatemala.” Murray Polner and Jim O’Grady, Disarmed & Dangerous: The Radical Life and Times of Daniel and Philip Berrigan, Brothers in Religious Faith and Civil Disobedience (New York, 1997), p. 198; Myra MacPherson, “The Thomas Melvilles: Church Dissenters,” Washington Post, September 26, 1968, E1. 23. Editorial Note, Document 6, FRUS, Vol. E–10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve10/d6, accessed December 5, 2011. 24. National Security Study Memorandum 68, July 12, 1969, FRUS, Vol. E–10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve10/ d13, accessed December 5, 2011. 25. Memorandum of Meeting, State Visit of President Lleras, June 12, 1969, FRUS, Vol. E–10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/ frus1969-76ve10/d150, accessed December 5, 2011. 816 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” taken two of its four trips to Latin America. Mission files’ description of Noel suggest that he did not focus exclusively on the Catholic Church. Although Noel met with religious and philanthropic leaders in Brazil, Argentina, Jamaica, and the Dominican Republic, files characterize his role in broader terms: “Catholic Church Affairs advisor,” “Social welfare advisor,” and “cultural advisor.”26 In submitting their reports in fall 1969, the CIA, State Department, and Rockefeller mission reached different conclusions about the Catholic Church’s role and its potential impact for the United States. The CIA was most concerned about the Church. In “conclusions,” the declassified fourpage excerpt of its report, the CIA warned that if Catholics turned to revolutionary means, they might direct their activities against the United States. The agency argued that progressives’ influence was “irreversible,” although conservative forces still held power both in influence and numbers. The CIA cautioned that, if frustrated with their inability to bring about societal change, progressives and “radical churchmen” might turn to “increasingly disruptive” means. The agency argued that these changes held implications for the United States because progressives blamed “foreign domination” for impeding economic development in Latin America. According to the CIA, progressives would likely view the United States as the “principal scapegoat” in this regard.27 Whereas the CIA warned of “radical churchmen” turning to “increasingly disruptive means,” the State Department report, submitted under contract by the RAND Corporation, did not believe this was the future. Instead, examples such as Colombian Camilo Torres and Maryknollers the Melvilles were outliers who demonstrated “the unrest within the Church and the limits of its political radicalization.”28 In contrast to the CIA’s largely classified report, in eighty-one published pages, the RAND report 26. Sleepy Hollow, NY, Nelson A. Rockefeller Papers, Rockefeller Family Archives, Rockefeller Archive Center (hereafter NAR Papers), Governor Rockefeller’s Mission for the President: Dominican Republic, Mr. Noel’s Schedule; Rockefeller Mission, Letters of Appreciation—Sao Paulo, Names and Addresses of Persons who Met with Catholic Church Affairs Advisor—Mr. James Noel, Jr.; Social Welfare, Advisor: James Noel, Jr.; Schedule for Cultural Advisor Mr. James Noel, Folder 964, Box 120, Series O, RG 4, Nelson A. Rockefeller, Gubernatorial. 27. Intelligence Memorandum 2609/69, October 9, 1969, FRUS, Vol. E–10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve10/d1, accessed December 5, 2011. 28. Luigi Einuadi, Richard Maulin, Alfred Stepan, and Michael Fleet, Latin American Institutional Development: The Changing Catholic Church (Santa Monica, 1969), p. 73. THERESA KEELEY 817 downplayed radical trends and placed Catholic divisions in an historical and worldwide context. The authors of the RAND report portrayed the Catholic Church as experiencing a “crisis of relevance.” The Church struggled to balance its encouragement of social change with its desire to maintain its “ideological and institutional coherence.” As the authors explained, this debate occurred among Catholics worldwide. In Latin America, it began with the independence movements a century earlier, yet the Church was “probably” experiencing “greater ferment” than at any time in its history. Catholics divided over whether the Church was primarily an institution or a movement responsible for advocating for a “just and good society.”29 Rather than singling out the United States, the RAND report argued that anti-U.S. sentiment grew out of Catholic teaching and Latin America’s colonial past. The RAND authors explained that Catholics were more receptive to anti-U.S. views because historically the Church criticized economic capitalism and liberal democracy. Additionally, Catholics in Latin America were wary of “foreign” influence on the Church. Many associated foreign clergy with colonial and neo-colonial practices. In fact, some Latin Americans considered U.S. church members in Latin America to be “unwitting agents of U.S imperialism” and part of the U.S. Church’s attempt to impose its brand of Catholicism.30 Perhaps even more sympathetic than the RAND report, the publicly released Rockefeller Report characterized revolutionary change as a positive movement led by the institutional Church. The Report noted that the Catholic Church and the military—two pillars of the status quo—were “moving rapidly to the forefront as forces for social, economic, and political change.” Associated with the colonial government since the conquest and later with the powerful of society, the Catholic Church was now “more responsive to the popular will.” The Report concluded that the Church was “a force dedicated to change—revolutionary change if necessary” and cited the Latin American bishops’ statement at Medellín. In describing the Church’s changed outlook, the Report stressed the Church’s good intentions, but warned that naiveté made it “vulnerable to subversive penetration.”31 29. Ibid., pp. 1, 3, 31, 48. 30. Ibid., pp. 17, 69. 31. Rockefeller, Rockefeller Report on the Americas, p. 31. 818 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” Although critics have used these passages to argue that the Rockefeller Report marked the beginning of the U.S. government’s campaign against leftist trends in the Church, the final report said surprisingly little about the Church, downplayed the radical trends about which Lleras warned Nixon, and failed to mention explicitly any repercussions for the United States. Rockefeller’s pre-travel meetings with outside advisers, his enthusiasm for the Medellín documents, and his concern with population growth explain why. Before Rockefeller embarked on his trips to Latin America, outside mission advisers told him that the United States should see the Catholic Church as a source of welcome change and that Catholic forces on the right posed a greater problem for the United States. During a discussion on political questions, former senator, U.S. ambassador, and vice-presidential candidate Henry Cabot Lodge Jr. argued that communism in Latin America did not present a threat. Lodge contended that the United States should choose between supporting stability or change in the region. He advocated that the United States back “vehicles of change,” such as “the radical Church,” modernizing military men, entrepreneurs, and university students.32 Likewise, while discussing security threats emanating from Latin America, three RAND researchers contended that “over time” political forces on the radical right might threaten U.S. interests more than those on the left. As the RAND researchers explained, these radicals sought to change the political order through “authoritarian and often violent methods.” Some were “intensively motivated religious activists,” Catholics who drew on anticommunism and “nationalist sentiment” to attract support.33 (These RAND researchers later were among the authors of the State Department report requested by Nixon.) This pre-mission advice made an impression on Rockefeller. As he later told Senator Charles H. Percy (R–IL) during a congressional hearing on the Report, he was “surprised” to hear from pre-trip advisers “that there was no internal security threat from communism in the Western Hemisphere.”34 The final Report not only followed pre-mission advisers’ advice by downplaying the threat of subversion within the Church to the U.S. gov- 32. Discussion Meeting Report: Latin America–NAR, April 9, 1969, Digest of Discussion, p. 5, Folder 1155, Box 146, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 33. CFR, Discussion Group on Latin America, Security Questions, April 16, 1969, p. 9, Folder 1155, Box 146, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 34. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Subcommittee on Western Hemisphere Affairs, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, 91st Cong., 1st sess., 1969, p. 50. THERESA KEELEY 819 ernment but also did not mention the potential political implications for the United States of intra-Catholic divisions, despite mission materials on the issue. In preparation for their trips, mission members received briefing papers. The Argentine report noted that “militant Catholics” on the right ran the government and enacted many policies that reflected their religious views. At the same time, Third World Priests, a group that advocated a position between capitalism and communism, promoted worker and student demands, and participated in protests. Although some members had been jailed, the backgrounder stressed that no reports of group members supporting violence or of being connected to guerrilla activities existed.35 The “Brazil Briefing Paper” outlined societal divisions since the 1964 coup with the government on one side and students, “militant priests,” and some “high-ranking Catholic Church officials” on the other.36 Similarly, U.S. newspaper articles contained in Rockefeller mission files described Catholic divisions and church-state conflicts. In the midst of the team’s travels, the New York Times discussed how disagreements among Catholics led to violence. Brazilian conservatives sought to remove communism from the country and the Church. In response to clergy’s social activism, these conservatives killed a priest and they “regularly” sprayed churches with slogans condemning communist infiltration of the Church. The group Tradition, Family, and Property, present in several Latin American countries, implored the pope to purge the Church of communists. At the same time, clergy in Argentina taught people how to demonstrate and some even advocated violence, while Colombian Camilo Torres had joined the guerrillas. As the reporter reminded readers, this conflict among Catholics and between the Church and military governments was a problem in Brazil, Peru, Chile, Argentina, Colombia, and Paraguay.37 Unlike Lleras’s assessment, the reporter did not explain how these Latin American developments might impact U.S. policy. Although the U.S. press may have overlooked the potential ramifications for the United States, mission team members heard firsthand how 35. U.S. Presidential Mission to the Republic of Argentina, Background Notes, pp. 39–40, Folder 1064, Box 131, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 36. William N. Simonson, Brazil Briefing Paper, May 1969, pp. 119–36, Folder 1474, Box 180, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 37. Malcolm W. Browne, “Church in Latin America Develops a Leftward Trend,” New York Times, July 7, 1969, 1. See also Alfred L. Malabre Jr., “South America’s Changing Church,” Wall Street Journal, April 26, 1967, 16, Folder 1721, Box 196, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 820 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” church-state conflict in Latin America was often entangled with, and in some cases bred, anti-U.S. sentiment. One mission member met with two “dissident clergy” in Ecuador whose frustration with economic inequality included a critique of the United States. The men emphasized the need for change, especially economic redistribution, but concluded nonviolent change was not possible because of opposition from the powerful. These men saw U.S. influence in nearly every aspect of Ecuadoran life. The United States allied with “the propertied classes, the industrialists” and the importers and exporters of Ecuador, “directed” the 1964 coup, and trained the military. The report did not indicate whether the two men were Ecuadorans or foreigners.38 Mission Catholic Church adviser Noel took a broader approach by explaining the connection between church-state conflict in Latin America and anti-U.S. views. Based on his conversations with church leaders in Argentina, Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chile, Noel traced how the Church moved from a conservative view of political, social, and economic life that prioritized eternal salvation to an emphasis on social justice and human development on earth. This new advocacy often brought the Church into conflict with military regimes as governments’ focus on economic development often led to restrictions on “civil liberties and civic expression.” Governments’ descriptions of Church programs as “subversive” or “communist” aroused anti-U.S. feeling because many Catholics believed that U.S. pressure caused their governments’ preoccupation with communism. These Catholics saw an inherent contradiction between these communist accusations and important social programs they believed fostered U.S. democratic values, such as liberty and free expression.39 Clergy’s critiques of U.S. influence, combined with the violence that greeted the mission, might have led the governor to conclude that subversion existed in the Church. Students and workers vehemently protested Rockefeller’s presence. Security forces killed a student in Honduras.40 Students in Nicaragua burned a U.S. flag and chanted, “Rocky, go home!”41 In 38. Jerome Levinson Report, Rough Draft, Ecuador: Conversation with Dissident Clergy, May 30, 1969, Folder 928, Box 118, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 39. James D. Noel Jr., “Catholic Church Affairs,” June 27, 1969, Folder 1367, Box 167, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 40. Jerome Levinson and Juan De Onis, The Alliance That Lost Its Way: A Critical Report on the Alliance for Progress (Chicago, 1970), p. 311. 41. Gerard Colby and Charlotte Dennett, Thy Will Be Done: The Conquest of the Amazon: Nelson Rockefeller and Evangelism in the Age of Oil (New York, 1995), p. 635. THERESA KEELEY 821 flyers, Uruguay’s Tupamaros National Liberation Movement proclaimed that Rockefeller was a “[m]ember of a family of exploiters, a greedy capitalist.”42 The group bombed the General Motors building, causing $1 million in damage. During a demonstration before Rockefeller’s arrival, Argentine police killed a trade union leader. The day of the funeral, 10,000 troops armed with machine guns and accompanied by dogs escorted Rockefeller through Buenos Aires.43 Fearing similar violence, Bolivia’s president met with Rockefeller at the airport, and leaders of Venezuela and Chile cancelled the visit.44 Yet Rockefeller’s notes give no indication that he tied these disruptions to the Church. Even with these experiences, information about anti-U.S. sentiment among religious, discussion of intra-Catholic tensions in briefing papers and press reports, and a presidential request, Rockefeller did not include subversion in the final report. His decision was likely based on an outside adviser’s suggestion. Viron Vaky recommended omitting a proposed discussion on the “Church & Subversion” because he was “not sure it should be said.” As he argued, “the Church has been all through this in Europe with the worker-priest movement,”45 in which priests, wearing civilian clothing, toiled as laborers among the working class. While the workerpriests sought to “raise the social-justice consciousness of Catholics,” critics charged the men with failing to address their parishioners’ spiritual needs and with being communists.46 Vaky’s recommendation was surprising because he knew that Nixon ordered the mission to examine the Church. As a National Security Council staffer, Vaky was present when Nixon and Lleras discussed the clergy’s role in radical movements in Latin America and when Nixon requested that the Rockefeller mission study the issue.47 42. “!Quién Te Ha Visto y Quién Te Ve!,” El País (Montevideo), October 8, 2013, accessed November 2, 2014, http://infoweb.newsbank.com/resources/doc/nb/news/ 1494F253D4F21368?p=AWNB. 43. Colby and Dennett, Thy Will Be Done, p. 641. 44. Levinson and De Onis, The Alliance That Lost Its Way, p. 311. 45. Memo from Nancy Maginnes to Hugh Morrow, re: Changes for the Final Report, undated, Folder 966, Box 122, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 46. Joseph J. Willke, “The Worker-Priest Experiment in France,” America, April 7, 1984, 253–357; Polner and O’Grady, Disarmed & Dangerous, p. 91. 47. Memorandum of Meeting, Washington, June 12, 1969, 11 a.m., FRUS, Vol. E-10, American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus196976ve10/d150, accessed December 5, 2011; Memorandum of Meeting, Washington, June 13, 1969, 11:30 a.m., FRUS, Vol. E-10: American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/ historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve10/d154, accessed December 5, 2011. Vaky attended a 822 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” Unfortunately, archival records do not contain a copy of “Church & Subversion,” although hints of what the section may have addressed exist. Mission files include a 1969 document, “Subversion of the Church in Latin America.” The author argued that the Church was facing a worldwide problem and that in Latin America, the clergy was the “backbone of subversive action of communist imperialism.” It is unclear if any mission team member, including Rockefeller, read the document because it contains no markings.48 But, in a draft of the report, a mission team member echoed these sentiments by arguing that a “radicalization” of the Church had occurred in Latin America. As he alleged, church leaders consciously decided the Church would become an “instrument of the revolution” to maintain “its viability.”49 Although he did not mention it, Vaky’s experience with Catholics and revolution in Guatemala may have influenced him. As the U.S. Guatemalan embassy’s second-in-command in the late 1960s, Vaky used the Melville incident to criticize Guatemala’s counter-terror tactics and U.S. support for them. He argued that the priests’ decision to adopt radical means—he only mentioned priests—illustrated the profound anger provoked by Guatemala’s policies. As he contended, Guatemala’s “brutal” counter-terror tactics blurred the line between communist and noncommunist in many people’s minds and instead “convert[ed] it into an issue of morality and justice.” Vaky argued that Guatemala’s approach was a liability for the United States in Latin America and at home; therefore, the United States should reconsider its policies and stop deluding itself regarding its role. As he insisted, We have condoned counter-terror; we may even in effect have encouraged or blessed it. We have been so obsessed with the fear of insurgency that we have rationalized away our qualms and uneasiness. . . . Murder, pre-mission meeting on political questions and several post-mission discussions about how to change U.S. policy. Discussion Meeting Report: Latin America–NAR, April 9, 1969, Digest of Discussion, Folder 1155, Box 146, Series O, RG 4; Conference on Presidential Mission re Latin American Affairs in Rockefeller Boat House, Seal Harbor, Maine, August 12, 1969, Folder 996, Box 122, Series O, RG 4; Conference on Presidential Mission re Latin American Affairs in Rockefeller Boat House, Seal Harbor, Maine, August 14, 1969, Folder 996, Box 122, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 48. “Subversion of the Church in Latin America,” undated, Folder 100 “Church in Latin America,” Box 12, Subseries 2, Latin American Mission, 1968–1972, Series 7, James Cannon Files, 1968–1971, RG 15, NAR Papers. 49. “Nature of the Challenge,” n.d., pp. 3–4, Folder 998, Box 122, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. THERESA KEELEY 823 torture and mutilation are all right if our side is doing it and the victims are Communists.50 Scholars often cite Vaky’s memo as evidence that someone within the State Department questioned U.S. anticommunist policy toward Latin America.51 Although true, Vaky’s memo also reveals the Melville incident’s high profile within government circles and suggests that the episode may have prompted Vaky to raise concerns about U.S. policy. In advising Rockefeller, Vaky likely recalled the uproar surrounding the Melville incident less than two years earlier. Besides the suggestions of outside advisers, Rockefeller’s notations and comments indicate that he welcomed changes in the Catholic Church. He expressed surprise—with two exclamation marks—upon reading Noel’s conclusion that a move to the left among church leaders was not only “certain,” but also “rapid.” Noel’s interviews revealed that those “on the right are becoming moderates, those in the middle are leaning to the left, and those on the left are even becoming radicals.”52 After Noel alerted Rockefeller to the Medellín conference, Rockefeller carefully read the concluding documents, as his markings indicate.53 The Latin American bishops condemned “institutionalized violence” as oppressing the majority of people, and they targeted both domestic and foreign social institutions as perpetuating inequality, poverty, and injustice. To address the situation, the bishops declared a “preferential option for the poor,” which meant not simply working with the poor, but recognizing unequal social systems and seeking to transform them through religious values.54 The bishops proposed that people be liberated from oppression through 50. Memorandum, Viron P. Vaky to Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs [Covey T. Oliver], March 29, 1968, FRUS, Vol. XXXI: South and Central America; Mexico, http://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1964-68v31/d102, accessed December 8, 2011. Emphasis in original. 51. See Stephen G. Rabe, The Killing Zone: The United States Wages Cold War in Latin America (New York, 2012), p. xxxi; Daniel Wilkinson, Silence on the Mountain: Stories of Terror, Betrayal, and Forgetting in Guatemala (Durham, 2004), p. 324; Gilbert M. Joseph, “What We Know and Should Know: Bringing Latin America More Meaningfully into Cold War Studies,” in In from the Cold: Latin America’s New Encounter with the Cold War, ed. Gilbert M. Joseph and Daniela Spenser (Durham, 2008), p. 25. 52. James D. Noel Jr., “Catholic Church Affairs,” p. 2, Folder 1198, Box 148, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 53. Concluding Document, and Justice and Concluding Document, Second General Conference of the Latin American Roman Catholic Episcopate, Medellín, Colombia, August–September 1968, Peace, Folder 1181, Box 147, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 54. Lernoux, Cry of the People, p. 38. 824 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” conscientization, a process of self-reflection in which people developed an awareness that their situation was not the result of fate, but of humanlycreated societal structures of injustice.55 While discussing a draft of the report, Rockefeller described the Medellín documents as “fantastic!” He explained that communist forces, intellectuals, and “newspaper people” were already calling for change, and with the addition of the Church and the military, such a movement would have a “tremendous impact on the minds of young people.” He likened the situation to what was happening in the United States.56 The Medellín documents prompted Rockefeller to reconsider his view that the Church was responsible for stifling Latin America’s economic progress. In early drafts, Rockefeller attributed the existence of democracy and successful economic structures in the United States to the country’s religious heritage. As he explained, We must constantly keep in mind the contrast between the conquest of Latin America by the highly individualistic Conquistadoes [sic] and the Catholic Church with the Pilgrim Fathers arriving in the United States seeking religious freedom and banding together in activities for the common good.57 Rockefeller’s assessment reflected modernization theory’s view that Latin America’s economic troubles resulted from the region’s Catholic and Mediterranean histories. But later drafts excluded this contrast and revealed Medellín as the reason. The seventh draft of the report characterized Medellín as inspiring a democratic movement—“a quiet revolution”— within the Church. As the author noted, The outgrowth of this Conference was a series of documents, on such subjects as peace and justice, which detailed the new role of the Church as a force dedicated to change—revolutionary change if necessary. However, deep divisions are evident among the clergy and within the hierarchies in all parts of the hemisphere. An institution whose own tradition is authoritarian seems not to understand the forces of grass-roots democracy.58 55. Gerald M. Costello, Mission to Latin America: The Successes and Failures of a Twentieth-Century Crusade (Maryknoll, NY, 1979), pp. 149, 153. 56. Discussion RE: Report on Presidential Mission in Office of the Governor, NY, NY, August 8, 1969, 11:00 am, Folder 997, Box 122, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 57. Draft 1, NAR, n.d., Folder 135, Box 144, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 58. Draft 6, August 15, Folder 998, Box 122; Draft 7, Folder 977, Box 120, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. THERESA KEELEY 825 The final report excluded this argument, but in discussions with mission advisers, Rockefeller also contended that Medellín challenged the Church’s traditional structures. In a meeting one month before Rockefeller submitted the Report to Nixon, George D. Woods, mission adviser on finance and former World Bank president, was skeptical that Medellín signaled a change. As he asked, They talk about human rights and human dignity, and all of this. Is the Catholic Church providing the best background? The whole LatinAmerican scene—well, the Caribbean is full of those monsignors and bishops, just as fast as they can be, walking around with all these kids who are undernourished—pre-natal and post-natal—undereducated, and even if they grow up they haven’t got . . . the grey matter to do anything for themselves. And this is what the Church has accumulated—all this tax-free real estate. But they do nothing about it. Rockefeller disagreed: Medellín “is not for that. They are for overthrowing all of this.”59 Based on Rockefeller’s notations and remarks, one might argue that he embraced Medellín insofar as it meant overturning internal Catholic Church structures and breaking-up Catholic power, such as landholding. As Woods argued, the Church held vast wealth, while poverty was prevalent. For this reason, the U.S. government and U.S. businesses could have viewed the Church as impeding their influence in Latin America. If Rockefeller was thinking this way, he might have supported radical changes within the Church that decreased its economic power and thereby potentially benefited U.S. business. Based on his notes, however, it is unlikely that Rockefeller held such a narrow interpretation of Medellín or misunderstood what the bishops said. He underlined passages in which the bishops proposed a reorganization of economic and political power outside the Church. Rockefeller marked the bishops’ denunciation of both “liberal capitalism” and Marxism: “We must denounce the fact that Latin America sees itself encircled between these two options and remains dependent on the centers of power which control its economy.” Also in blue pen, Rockefeller underlined the bishops’ call to restructure society for the benefit of all, especially the lower classes. As they asserted: 59. Discussion RE: Report on Presidential Mission in Office of the Governor, NY, NY, August 8, 1969, 11:00 am, Folder 997, Box 122, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 826 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” The Latin American Church estimates the situation in such a way as to encourage the formation of national communities, that reflect a global organization, where all of the peoples but more especially the lower classes, have by means of territorial and functional structures an active and receptive participation, creative and decisive, in the construction of a new society.60 In praising Medellín, Rockefeller disagreed with military governments such as Brazil’s, which regarded social activism within the Church both as communism and as a threat to the state. In 1964, military generals overthrew Brazilian President João Goulart. The men portrayed the bloodless coup as an act that saved both the Catholic Church and country from communism. Fear of subversion continued after the coup, as some in the military referred to progressive priests as “bacteria” that threatened to infect Brazil with communism. As one general explained to his troops, “Even though they are Catholic, these individuals have betrayed the Revolution. Today they are working for the opposition, not the one in Congress and the press, but the one that wanted to Communize Brazil in 1964.”61 The general was not alone. Just months after Medellín, on December 13, 1968, Brazil’s President General Costa e Silva issued the repressive Institutional Act No. 5, which led to crackdowns, including those against the Church. Rockefeller’s support for Medellín also challenged U.S. alliances with Latin America military governments and anticommunist Catholics, like those in Brazil. Among the Brazilian generals’ most visible supporters were middle-class Catholic women,62 who charged Goulart with turning the country over to communism and with being an atheist whose policies would threaten Catholics’ ability to practice their faith. The women wrote letters and marched in protest. After the coup, both the U.S. press and government promoted the women as anticommunist models, which underscored the U.S. government and Catholic Church’s shared cold war aims. Reader’s Digest argued that “with determination and intelligent planning, an aroused citizenry can rid itself of even a deeply entrenched communist threat.” The Digest encouraged readers to spread the word about the women in “How You Can Use This Article to Best Effect.” The State 60. Concluding Document, Second General Conference of the Latin American Roman Catholic Episcopate, Medellín, Colombia, August-September 1968, Church, Folder 1181, Box 147, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 61. Ken Serbin, Secret Dialogues: Church-State Relations, Torture, and Social Justice in Authoritarian Brazil (Pittsburgh, 2000), p. 39. 62. James N. Green, We Cannot Remain Silent: Opposition to the Brazilian Military Dictatorship in the United States (Durham, 2010), p. 36. THERESA KEELEY 827 Department arranged for fourteen women to speak across the United States in fall 1964.63 Although the U.S. government promoted the anticommunist Brazilian women who would have opposed Medellín, Rockefeller approved of the Church’s leftward trend. He did not characterize the bishops’ language at Medellín as “an attack on bourgeois society, private property, and military institutions,” as one Salvadoran priest later did. Nor did Rockefeller agree that the bishops’ talk of “community ownership” and “social reform” was the same as Marxist party language.64 Overall, Rockefeller seemed unconcerned about communist infiltration in the Church, and he raised no worries about Medellín threatening U.S. influence in Latin America. Besides viewing the Church in a new light given Medellín, Rockefeller also did not discuss subversion in the final report because he was more focused on population growth. His decision reflected both his family’s funding priorities and U.S. concerns at the time. In 1952, Nelson’s older brother, John D. Rockefeller III, founded the Population Council, “the world’s preeminent institute for policy oriented research in demography and contraception, but also the nexus for all the other major players in the field.”65 The year before the Report’s publication, Paul Ehrlich’s bestselling The Population Bomb warned that overpopulation would lead to mass starvation,66 and Pope Paul VI announced the encyclical Humanae Vitae, which prohibited all forms of artificial birth control. These two strands— fear of overpopulation and the Church’s opposition to birth control—came together in assessments that the Alliance for Progress failed because population growth outpaced any positive results from the program. Rockefeller submitted his report to Nixon thirteen months after Humanae Vitae sent shockwaves through the Catholic community worldwide. Against the recommendations of a group that Paul VI commissioned to examine the issue, Humanae Vitae prohibited all forms of artificial birth 63. Margaret Power, “Transnational Connections among Right-Wing Women: Brazil, Chile, and the United States,” in Women of the Right: Comparisons and Interplay Across Borders, ed. Kathleen M. Blee and Sandra McGhee Deutsch (University Park, PA, 2012), pp. 21–35, here pp. 23, 27–28. 64. Chicago, DePaul University, Special Collections & Archives, Ricardo Fuentes Castellanos, “De Medellín a Riobamba y San Salvador,” El Mundo (San Salvador), March 25, 1977, 7, Box 39, Brockman-Romero Papers. 65. Matthew Connelly, Fatal Misconceptions: The Struggle to Control World Population (Cambridge, MA, 2008), p. 159. 66. Paul Ehrlich, Population Bomb (New York, 1968). 828 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” control. The encyclical was surprising because the group’s proposal that the Church change its policy had already been published in North America and Europe.67 As scholars have recognized, the nearly two-year delay between the group’s end and the encyclical’s announcement “fed the rebelliousness that marked its reception.”68 Feminists were not the only ones who refused to follow the encyclical; “the laity almost universally ignored the doctrine.”69 The Church seemed out of step with the changing times. As the Church pondered the issue, the U.S. government began including funding for family planning programs abroad, and the United Nations declared that the decision about the number and spacing of children was a human right.70 In discussing population growth in the Report, Rockefeller may have also considered his ties to the Church in his home state. Politicians nicknamed New York’s Cardinal Francis J. Spellman the “American Pope” because they saw him as the voice of U.S. Catholics.71 The cardinal opposed family planning. At least partially in response to his urging, the Rockefeller Foundation decided not to pursue population control efforts in Japan in the 1950s.72 Rockefeller had an unusual relationship with the Catholic prelate. According to the governor’s former aide, Spellman “embraced” Rockefeller in 1962 as the governor faced public rebuke, especially from fellow Protestants, over his divorce.73 Population growth was a popular, bipartisan issue in the late 1960s. In 1968, both the Republican and Democratic Party platforms cited population control as a priority. The G.O.P. described the “world-wide population explosion . . . as a menace to all mankind.”74 On July 18, 1969, Nixon 67. Charles B. Keely, “Limits to Papal Power: Vatican Inaction after Humanae Vitae.” In “The New Politics of Population: Conflict and Consensus in Family Planning,” supplement, Population and Development Review, 20 (1994), 220–40, here 221. 68. Charles R. Morris, American Catholic: The Saints and Sinners Who Built America’s Most Powerful Church (New York, 1997), p. 363. 69. Mary J. Henold, Catholic and Feminist: The Surprising History of the American Catholic Feminist Movement (Chapel Hill, NC, 2008), p. 51; Morris, American Catholic, p. 346. 70. Keely, “Limits to Papal Power,” pp. 225–26. 71. John Cooney, The American Pope: The Life and Times of Francis Cardinal Spellman (New York, 1984), p. xvi. 72. Connelly, Fatal Misconceptions, pp. 140–41. 73. Cooney, The American Pope, p. 312. 74. Democratic Party Platforms, “Democratic Party Platform of 1968,” August 26, 1968, The American Presidency Project, http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/?pid=29604, accessed May 12, 2014; Republican Party Platforms, “Republican Party Platform of 1968,” August 5, 1968, The American Presidency Project, http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/ ?pid=25841, accessed May 12, 2014. THERESA KEELEY 829 dedicated a special message to Congress to the “Problems of Population Growth.” Nixon noted that the recently released report “World Population: A Challenge to the United Nations and Its System of Agencies” urged “expanded action and greater coordination.” John D. Rockefeller chaired the UN panel. The president called for the creation of a U.S. commission to study population growth, and he urged additional governmental action before the committee’s findings were released.75 The president later appointed John D. Rockefeller to lead the Commission on Population Growth and the American Future. Given the concern with population growth, it was unsurprising that during hearings on the Report members of Congress asked about the Church’s position on family planning, not Catholics’ support for revolutionary activities. Four months after Nixon’s special message to Congress, Senator Percy quoted the Report’s assertion that “[t]he church is a force dedicated to change, revolutionary change if necessary” and added “to undertake a revolution if necessary to end injustice.” He assumed the passage concerned family planning. Percy interpreted “revolutionary” as a major change in approach, not as a resort to arms. He referred to a “touchy subject” on which there was an “internal struggle within the Church,” and then began discussing high birth rates in Latin America. He wondered what the United States could do “to save the future” of Latin America. Percy implied that Catholicism was an impediment because he noted family planning progress in India, which presented no problem of “religious inhibitions.”76 Rockefeller then assured Percy that people in and outside of government were working on the issue. But, Rockefeller said the Report omitted discussion of the Church and family planning because “this is a sensitive subject with many groups there, and I pointed out the problem.”77 Senator Frank Church (D–ID) also focused on family planning and expressed surprise over the governor’s silence. Although the Report indicated that population gains had “kept” economic growth “to something less than 2 percent,” Rockefeller made no recommendations on the issue. In response, Rockefeller emphasized Latin America’s Catholic nature. As he explained, 75. Richard Nixon, “Special Message to the Congress on Problems of Population Growth,” July 18, 1969, The American Presidency Project, http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/ ?pid=2132, accessed May 12, 2014. 76. When questioning Rockefeller, Percy mentioned John D.Rockefeller’s population control work. Percy’s daughter, Sharon, was married to John D. Rockefeller’s son, Jay. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, p. 52. 77. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, p. 51. 830 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” it seems to me that is something that is so obvious that it is hardly necessary for me to recommend to 23 or 24 sister sovereign nations that we impose family planning on a Catholic country . . . But I felt that this is a very personal question, that it would be taken as an insult for me to express, as an individual, to the President of the United States what our friends in the Western Hemisphere should do about family planning.78 Privately, Rockefeller feared that discussing family planning would lead the Church to “single out” the Report. After an aide noted that the Alliance for Progress failed because population grew faster than any positive changes, Rockefeller acknowledged that “everybody knows that. This subject is what everybody is talking about,” but he worried that church leaders would condemn the report for “intervening in their province” and that the Communist Party would call it “imperialism.”79 The placement of population growth in the Report reflected Rockefeller’s desire not to provoke the Church. Although Rockefeller repeatedly stressed how the population increase was the most “compelling” concern in the “other Hemispheric nations,” he discussed the matter at the end of the Report. As the Report concluded, “Of all the broad concerns of the other Hemisphere nations, none is more compelling—in terms of public health, economic growth and social progress—than the increase in population.”80 But Rockefeller made no recommendations focused specifically on population. As Rockefeller hinted to Percy, he feared jeopardizing existing efforts. The Report stressed that “[i]n country after country,” physicians, public health officials, educators, scientists, leaders of women’s groups, economic ministers, and planning directors “voluntarily” raised “the problem of population growth, and the need for family planning to slow that growth.” These same individuals, however, also noted that “they could not take a public position in favor of family planning because the issue of birth control in some hemispheric countries is too emotional and controversial. In private, however, they were candid and realistic.”81 What Rockefeller heard was consistent with what the United Nations had concluded. Its demographic center in Chile (CELADE) found that by 1965, the majority of women in Chile, Peru, and the Caribbean “had already tried some method 78. Ibid., p. 20. 79. Conference on Presidential Mission re Latin American Affairs in Rockefeller Boat House, Seal Harbor, Maine, August 12, 1969, Folder 996, Box 122, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 80. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, p. 191. 81. Senate, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, p. 191. THERESA KEELEY 831 of contraception.” Data from 1968 found that 38 to 65 percent of women living in Bogota, Caracas, Mexico City, and Rio had as well.82 To mission team members, women’s organizations described their efforts to disseminate information about birth control. As one woman explained, “both the government and the Church turn their backs” on these programs.83 Likewise, mission adviser Noel reported that the Church had decided to remain largely silent so long as it did not feel people were being coerced.84 As senators’ questions of Rockefeller revealed, population growth, not subversion, was lawmakers’ concern with the Church in 1969. Instead, congressmen most questioned Rockefeller’s support for military aid to all Latin American governments. The Report praised “a new type of military man,” who was “prepared to adapt his authoritarian tradition to the goals of social and economic progress.” Though there was potential for repression, the greater danger was Marxist influence. To counteract it, the Report advised “exposure to the fundamental achievements of the U.S.’ way of life . . . through the military training programs which the U.S conducts.”85 Senator Church was “disturbed” by the recommendations, whereas Senator Claiborne Pell (D–RI) described the aid as “already overbeefed.” Rockefeller protested. If the United States did not sell military equipment, Latin Americans would buy it elsewhere. U.S. military aid, he argued, could foster greater security, leading to democracy’s reestablishment. 86 But Rockefeller knew what military governments were doing. While in Brazil, his principal speechwriter, Joseph E. Persico, heard from Brazilian friends, “roughly the equivalent of middle-of-the-road Republicans,” of their friends who had been disappeared, tortured, or jailed. Following their advice, Persico urged Rockefeller to speak about democracy. A “furious” Rockefeller responded, “Don’t you understand? That’s exactly what these people resent, our sticking our noses in their business, Americans trying to tell them how to run their internal affairs.”87 To Rockefeller, the eradication of subversion was important, not how it was accomplished. 82. Keely, “Limits to Papal Power,” p. 225. 83. Senate, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, p. 192. 84. James D. Noel Jr., “Catholic Church Affairs,” June 27, 1969, Folder 1367, Box 167, Series O, RG 4, NAR Papers. 85. Rockefeller, Rockefeller Report on the Americas, pp. 32–33. 86. Senate, Rockefeller Report on Latin America, pp. 10, 35, 37, 45. 87. Joseph E. Persico, The Imperial Rockefeller: A Biography of Nelson A. Rockefeller (New York, 1982), pp. 104–05. 832 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” Although Rockefeller and Congress separated discussion of the Church from military aid, the two were intertwined, as governments increasingly targeted Catholics in the name of fighting Marxism. Priest and theologian José Comblin, who worked with Archbishop Dom Helder Cámara of Olinda and Recife in Brazil, critiqued what he called the “national security doctrine,” under which military governments prioritized the state’s security above all else. Although the model originated with the U.S. National Security Act of 1947, which created the CIA and the National Security Council, Latin Americans “copied” this approach.88 As Comblin explained in 1976, “Any movement that advocates leadership training or grass-roots organizing is regarded as subversive by the military rulers.” As the military sees it, “some Christians, including priests and bishops, are either infiltrating Marxists or useful dupes. Consequently, it is left to the armed forces to save the church from the danger it cannot see.”89 In many countries, the only remaining voice after union leaders, politicians, and students were silenced was the Church.90 From 1968 until 1982, nearly 1000 priests, bishops, and nuns were murdered, imprisoned, or exiled.91 Whereas Latin American clergy believed the U.S. government was targeting Catholics, Nixon determined that Catholics were aligning with communists. By spring 1971, Nixon had concluded that a strong current of Marxism existed in the Latin American Church. In a meeting with several advisers, the Quaker-raised Nixon described himself as “the strongest pro-Catholic who is not a Catholic” and noted that one-third of Catholics in Latin America were Marxists, one-third center, and one third “Catholics.” He referred to “the deterioration of the attitude of the Catholic Church” but praised the U.S. Church’s decision “finally . . . [to] condemn[] . . . an awful lot of Catholics in Latin America and everyplace else.”92 Just as Nixon heard the Colombian president’s warnings of radical clergy as U.S. religious protested the Vietnam War, Nixon made these 88. Lernoux, Cry of the People, p. 32; José Comblin, The Church and the National Security State (1979; repr. Maryknoll, NY, 1984), pp. xi, 64–65, 72. 89. Shepard Bliss and Frank Maurovich, “Latin Clergy Fear Continent—Wide Strategy vs. Church,” Latinamerica Press (Lima), October 7, 1976, 7–8. 90. Lernoux, Cry of the People, p. 10. 91. Anna L. Peterson, Martyrdom and the Politics of Religion: Progressive Catholicism in El Salvador’s Civil War (Albany, 1997), p. 63. 92. Rabe, The Killing Zone, pp. 118–19; Conversation Among President Nixon, Assistant for National Security Kissinger, President’s Assistant Haldeman, Deputy Assistant for National Security Affairs Haig, and Director of Central Intelligence Helms, Washington, March 5, 1971, FRUS, Vol. E–10, American Republics, 1969–1972, http://history.state.gov/ historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve10/d36, accessed December 5, 2011. THERESA KEELEY 833 comments as so-called radical clergy were again in the news. In January 1971, six people, including Josephite priest Philip Berrigan, were indicted on charges of plotting to kidnap Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and to blow up federal buildings. Shortly after, Time magazine featured the Berrigan brothers—“rebel priests”—on its cover.93 Just as Nixon echoed conservative Catholics regarding Marxism in the Church, he sided with them regarding population growth as well. Although in 1969 Nixon advocated population growth efforts, by spring 1972, he had publicly distanced himself from the Commission on Population Growth and the American Future. The president ordered his officials to ensure no legislative measures would come of the commission’s recommendations, which included greater access to abortion and contraception, because he opposed legalized abortion and sought to win Catholic votes in the 1972 election.94 Nixon’s retreat from population control reflected broader U.S. political shifts, as abortion became the more salient issue. In this regard, Rockefeller proved prescient in worrying about Catholic opposition. Although the U.S. government grew more concerned with liberation theology’s spread during the 1970s and 1980s, critics have pointed incorrectly, although understandably, to the Rockefeller Report as the source. Rockefeller’s push for military aid made it easier for military governments, trained and funded by the United States, to target their own people, including the Church. By 2001, the U.S. School of the Americas had trained more than 60,000 Latin Americans, including “some of the hemisphere’s most notorious dictators, death squad operatives, and assassins,” such as the two accused of murdering Blessed Óscar Romero, archbishop of San Salvador.95 The devastating impact of U.S. military aid on left-leaning Catholics seemed like a targeted campaign. Such an approach was more believable, given the Rockefeller family’s economic ties to Latin America and given that Nelson Rockefeller’s protégé, Henry Kissinger, served as national security adviser, secretary of state, and leader of the bipartisan commission on U.S.-Central America policy under Reagan. 93. Patricia McNeal, Harder Than War: Catholic Peacemaking in 20th-Century America (New Brunswick, NJ, 1992), p. 202; Time, January 25, 1971. 94. Derek S. Hoff, “‘Kick That Population Commission in the Ass’: The Nixon Administration, the Commission on Population Growth and the American Future, and the Defusing of the Population Bomb,” Journal of Policy History, 22 (2010), 23–63, here 25, 27– 28, 42. 95. Lesley Gill, The School of the Americas: Military Training and Political Violence in the Americas (Durham, 2004), p. 137. 834 MEDELLÍN IS “FANTASTIC” The theory of the Report persisted because there was no alternative. The Report was public, whereas documents from Nixon’s meeting with Lleras and his request for the CIA, State Department, and Rockefeller reports were not released as part of the Foreign Relations of the United States until 2009. The misunderstanding matters because the characterization of the Report as the source of U.S. government opposition to liberation theology overlooks how, at times, the U.S. government inserted itself into, rather than created, tensions among Catholics. With its aid to the Salvadoran government and the Nicaraguan contras in the 1980s, the U.S. government simultaneously bolstered liberation theology’s opponents and encouraged progressive Catholics to believe that a government campaign to eradicate leftward Catholic trends began with the Rockefeller Report. “This Small and Honorable Association”: The American Catholic Historical Association and The Catholic Historical Review, 1969–2015 JOSEPH M. WHITE* The author addresses the history of the American Catholic Historical Association from its fiftieth anniversary in 1969 to the present, including the history of its official journal, The Catholic Historical Review. Keywords: American Catholic Historical Association, American church history, church historians, learned societies A t its fiftieth anniversary in 1969, the American Catholic Historical Association (ACHA) affirmed a longstanding aim to promote the study of the Catholic Church’s history. As the eventful 1960s neared an end, the ACHA had maintained a stable membership, developed a longstanding relationship with the American Historical Association (AHA) and its ever-growing number of affiliated societies, and provided a means of sharing scholarship emerging in all areas of Catholic history. ACHA members continued active and useful contributions in producing its official journal, The Catholic Historical Review (CHR). A relationship with The Catholic University of America (CUA) continued through the ownership of CHR by CUA Press, and the location of both the executive office of the *Dr. White, an independent scholar, resides in Prince George’s County, Maryland, email: whitef@cua.edu. For indispensable assistance in producing this article, the author warmly thanks the following individuals: 2013 ACHA President Margaret McGuinness (La Salle University) who, without hesitation, granted permission to examine the American Catholic Historical Association Collection (ACHA) in the American Catholic History Research Center and University Archives (ACUA), The Catholic University of America (CUA), after the Association’s executive secretary refused access in 2012; The Catholic Historical Review (CHR) editor Nelson H. Minnich, for permitting use of the journal’s files in the ACHA Collection and for ongoing advice and encouragement; Rev. Msgr. Robert F. Trisco, for explaining many aspects of the ACHA’s and CHR’s activities; and the staff of the American Catholic Research Center and University Archives, CUA. The article title is taken from the words of historian John A. Lukacs in his presidential address, “The Historiographical Problem of Belief and of Believers: Religious History in the Democratic Age,” CHR, 64 (1978), 153–64, here 164. 835 836 “T HIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” ACHA (until 2011) and CHR in the university’s John K. Mullen of Denver Library. This article examines the interrelated history of the ACHA from its fiftieth anniversary year and its official journal, the CHR, founded in 1915 at CUA. As in the article on the founding of both, this article addresses the evolution of these entities in the broad dimensions of studying and representing the study of the Catholic past in academia and its reception among Catholics and others.1 In light of challenges facing learned societies and their journals by the early–twenty-first century, it also provides some overarching observations linking the past, present issues, and future possibilities. Venturing into the Late-Twentieth Century Past accomplishments set a positive tone for future prospects as the ACHA completed its first half century. That Monsignor John Tracy Ellis served as president of both the ACHA and the American Society of Church History (ASCH) in 1969 presaged possibilities of church historians collaborating across denominational lines. At the annual meeting, some forty members participated in a discussion of the ACHA’s future. Presbyterian Elwyn Smith (Temple University), coeditor of the Journal of Ecumenical Studies and a past president of the ASCH, proposed closer cooperation between the two associations and even a “union” of the two societies. Ellis stated that a union was not feasible but suggested cooperation in the newly formed Committee on American Catholicism. In affirming the need for the ACHA, Robert F. Trisco observed as a “legitimate object for an association” the need for examination of the Catholic Church’s history. He added that many ACHA members might not join a merged society, and the two journals of the separate societies provided greater opportunities for publication of articles and book reviews than one.2 No discernible move to change the status of the two organizations advanced. Through the era, then, the ACHA and the ASCH remained the twin societies devoted to all areas and periods of church history and have convened sessions at their annual and spring meetings where scholars present the latest research. Both represented ever-expanding specialties of topics, themes, and periods. 1. Joseph M. White, “In the interest of true history”: The Catholic Historical Review and the American Catholic Historical Association, 1915–69,” CHR, 101 (2015), 219–91. 2. “Fiftieth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 56 (1970), 94–148, here 95–96. JOSEPH M. WHITE 837 As the ACHA entered its second half century, changes in the historical profession gradually altered the scholarly population that composed the Association. In the United States, the profession grew steadily through the postwar era. The number of history PhDs produced annually crested at 1237 in 1972, then declined each year until the mid-1980s when the numbers began to increase gradually.3 The substantial population of historians, including those treating aspects of Catholic Church history, supplied members for existing history-related learned societies and new ones. Among those affiliated with the AHA, thirty-four societies were formed in the period 1970–79 and thirty more in 1980–2014.4 Outside the AHA’s “umbrella,” related disciplines—religion, religious studies, and/or theology—represented varied approaches to examining Christianity’s past, including history. Their learned societies sponsored journals disseminating scholarship, including coverage of all aspects of the religious past. Notably, the burgeoning American Academy of Religion attracted scholars examining history into a learned society representing all aspects of religion. Leadership of Robert F. Trisco Serving from 1961 as ACHA secretary and from 1963 as CHR editor, the Archdiocese of Chicago priest Robert F. Trisco coordinated the Association’s activities and presided over the complexities of editing its learned journal until 2005. He served a stint as interim secretary in 2008– 09. As a member of the CUA faculty since 1959, he taught church history and compiled a distinguished record as a scholar, directing twenty-five doctoral dissertations in aspects of church history and serving on dissertation committees for many others.5 The Executive Council appointed Trisco treasurer at the end of 1982 when Monsignor Harry Koenig retired from the position. Thereafter until 2005, Trisco filled a fourfold position as professor, secretary, editor, and treasurer. At the combination ACHA executive office/CHR office in the CUA’s Mullen Library, office secretary Anne M. Wolf, hired in 1966 after 3. Frank Scott and Jeff Anstine, “Critical Mass in the Production of Ph.D.’s: A Multidisciplinary Study,” Economics of Education Review, 21 (2002), 29–42. 4. See the American Historical Association Web site for a list of affiliated societies. 5. For the early years of his service, see White, “‘In the interest of true history,’” 272– 83; for additional biographical data, see Joseph Linck and Raymond Kupke, eds., Building the Church in America: Studies in Honor of Monsignor John Tracy Ellis on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday (Washington, DC, 1999). He was named a prelate of honor (monsignor) in 1992 and protonotary apostolic in 2003. 838 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” retiring from the U.S. Army, served efficiently without compensation after 1970. This substantial saving to the ACHA and the CHR matched her personal generosity to both. After her retirement in 1985, the two entities each paid half the salaries for her successors, Mary Homan (1985–89), Maryann Urbanski (1989–2002), and Rita Bogley (after 2002). In advancing the study of the Catholic past, the ACHA and its journal expanded activities involving more members. The Association revealed a vitality that Trisco often linked to the “willing contributions of its members.”6 Through its second half century, more members participated in the ACHA’s wider range of activities—each under a committee’s direction. From the 1970s to the early–twenty-first century, attention to awarding prizes in several categories recognized excellence and increased the Association’s visibility and influence on the national historical scene. ACHA Membership In a fiftieth-anniversary dialogue among members about the ACHA’s future, former ACHA president Robert F. Byrnes shared his views on types of members: (1) historians who are Catholic but have little interest in the history of the Church, (2) historians of the universal Church, (3) those interested in the history of American Catholicism, and (4) those interested in the spiritual values that Catholicism represents.7 Byrnes did not address types of members of other categories: clergy, religious, laypeople, and women. In light of varied motivations for joining the ACHA, efforts were pursued to maintain and even increase membership. Direct contact from the executive office with a letter inviting potential members to join—a practice well established before 1969—expanded. A Committee on Membership assisted the effort to identify potential members. Annually, the incumbent president composed and signed a letter describing the benefits of ACHA membership and inviting the recipient to join. Varied categories of recipients were targeted in different years. It was circulated to history department chairs and/or history instructors at Catholic institutions who had not joined. In other years, the letter was sent to select categories of recipients: bishops, priests engaged in education, and members of learned societies associated with a given year’s president. In some years, the executive office 6. For one example, see “Fifty-Second Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 58 (1972), 67–87, here 72. 7. “Fiftieth Annual Meeting,” p. 95. JOSEPH M. WHITE 839 dispatched membership invitations to nonmembers in its large network of book reviewers representing all periods and areas of history. In every annual report, Trisco described the volume of that year’s promotional letters mailed to hundreds. He carefully recorded statistics of new members and inevitable losses of members owing to the few deaths and resignations, but normally there were several score not renewing membership. Owing to such vigorous efforts, new members offset losses in many years to keep membership at a stable level. In 1970, the ACHA recorded 1088 members, the lowest figure since 1958. At five-year intervals, members numbered 1094 (1975), 1070 (1980), 1075 (1985), 1116 (1990), 1154 (1995), and 1098 (2000). After 2000, as the nature of membership evolved, the number fell to 890 (2005), 829 (2010), and 577 (2015); the last figure represents the lowest membership since 1928.8 The “small and honorable” association had “grown” smaller. Since its founding, the ACHA had drawn a predominately male membership, with clergy representing a large portion.9 In 1976, when the Executive Council considered the limited number of women in elected positions, the analysis of membership revealed that men numbered 895 (83.7 percent), which consisted of seventy-three bishops (6.8 percent), 331 priests (31.0 percent), twelve religious brothers (1.1 percent), eight Protestant ministers (0.7 percent), and 471 laymen (44.1 percent). Women numbered 174 (16.3 percent) and were almost equally divided between eightysix religious and eighty-eight laypeople.10 For years, the men-women ratio changed slightly. In 1991, when concern for women’s status prompted nomination only of women for first vicepresident, Executive Council, and the Committee on Nominations, an analysis of 1060 members (excluding institutional ones) revealed 890 men (83.9 percent), divided among 325 clergy (30.7 percent), eight religious brothers (0.7 percent), and 557 laymen (52.5 percent). Women numbered 170 (16.1 percent), composed of fifty-six religious (5.3 percent) and 114 laypeople (10.8 percent).11 8. Membership figures and other statistics here and throughout the article are found in the “Annual Meeting” report, issued in December and published in the April issue of the next year. 9. White, “‘In the interest of true history,’” p. 262. 10. “Fifty-Seventh Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 63 (1977), 249–70, here 261. 11. “Seventy-Second Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 78 (1992), here 232–55, here 243. 840 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” By the early–twenty-first century, the membership profile had changed. In 2006, 864 ACHA individual members included twenty-seven bishops, 241 Catholic priests, six Protestant clergy, two deacons, thirtyone religious sisters, nine religious brothers, 148 laywomen, and 400 laymen.12 The number of bishops, priests, and laymen had declined markedly, whereas the surge of female members had not offset the declining portion of men. Further reflections on transitions of membership will be addressed later. The Catholic Historical Review The CHR continued as the ACHA’s official journal—a relationship dating from 1922. From 1929 to 2005, the ACHA secretary also served as editor, and members served as associate and advisory editors as well as contributed a substantial amount of its content. Like the ACHA, the CHR treated all areas and periods of the Catholic Church’s past. As more historyrelated learned societies were founded and published journals focusing on specific centuries, periods, and/or areas that often addressed religious dimensions, the CHR maintained a stable circulation. Its subscribers—apart from ACHA members—continued to serve mostly libraries and institutions and a few individuals. From 1970 to 2000, the subscribers-only category numbered 1015 (1970), 858 (1975), 872 (1980), 840 (1985), 859 (1990), 822 (1995), and 909 (2000). Likewise, exchanges with other journals continued to enhance the periodical holdings of the Mullen Library: 163 (1970), 167 (1975), 168 (1980), 163 (1985), 165 (1990), and 170 (1995).13 Producing each issue of the CHR engaged the efforts of many, from manuscript submission, evaluation, and acceptance to the production process of copyediting, typesetting, proofreading, and printing. Assisting editor Trisco from 1965 to 1994 was associate editor Joseph N. Moody, who retired from CUA as professor emeritus in 1975 and then taught at St. John’s Seminary in Brighton, MA, and Boston College. He continued contributing his valued editorial skills until his death in 1994. Nelson H. Minnich joined the CUA faculty in 1977 to teach Renaissance-Reformation history and served as “junior” associate editor (1977–90). After a sabbatical year, he was appointed an advisory editor in 1991. When Trisco retired as editor in 2005, the CUA appointed Minnich as editor, and the 12. “Eighty-Sixth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 92 (2006), 244–66, here 258. 13. Figures for exchanges have not appeared in the annual report since 2000, although journal exchanges have continued. JOSEPH M. WHITE 841 former became associate editor. In 2011, Jennifer Paxton, medieval historian and assistant director of CUA’s Honors Program, was appointed an associate editor. A group of advisory editors—historians holding academic positions in research universities—continued their contributions.14 From 1967, John Tracy Ellis served as such until his death in October 1992. Influential Protestant historian Robert T. Handy (Union Theological Seminary, New York) likewise gave lengthy service (1969–1990), as well as Glenn Olsen (University of Utah, 1972–2009). Other members included Albert Loomie, S.J. (Fordham University, 1964–74); Lawrence McCaffrey (Loyola University Chicago, 1969–72); Manuel Servín (University of Southern California, 1972–75); John Sommerfeldt (Western Michigan University, 1968–71); Jeremy McQuesnay Adams (Southern Methodist University, 1973–78); David C. Bailey (Michigan State University, 1974–82); John W. O’Malley, S.J. (Fordham University, 1976–78); William S. Babcock (Southern Methodist University, 1979–89); and Robert Bireley, S.J. (Loyola University Chicago, 1979–84). From CUA’s faculty, the following served as advisory editors: Jacques Gres-Gayer, who taught modern European church history (1986–2012); Robert B. Eno, S.S., who taught early church history (1990–97); and Jane Merdinger, in ancient history (1998–2003). After Gres-Gayer and Olsen retired in 2012, a group of advisory editors was chosen to represent major fields of church history: Simon Ditchfield (University of York, United Kingdom), Liam Matthew Brockey (Michigan State University), Thomas Kselman (University of Notre Dame), Maureen C. Miller (University of California, Berkeley), and Joseph M. White (CUA). Stephen Schloesser, S.J. (Loyola University Chicago), became an advisory editor in 2013 after Kselman retired. In 2013, Robin Darling Young (CUA) became an advisory editor. In 2008, CUA Press engaged Georgetown graduate and experienced scholarly editor Elizabeth Foxwell as “staff editor” to provide copyediting and production services for the CHR and occasionally index the annual volume. CUA student assistants handled book review processing and other aspects of the editorial work. Through the years the number of article manuscripts submitted and the areas of church history they represented continued to vary. Those submitted on European and North American topics usually exceeded those 14. Names of advisory editors have appeared on the title page of each CHR issue. 842 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” focusing on other areas. The high volume of PhDs produced into the 1970s paralleled a large number of article manuscripts submitted during the period. For the decade 1974–83, 56.7 manuscripts were submitted each year on average.15 The number of submissions then fluctuated as the number of learned societies increased. Trisco dealt with this challenge quietly but noted in 1994 the “competition of specialized journals for the ancient, medieval, and Reformation periods” and expressed dismay with the recent appearance of the Journal of Early Christian Studies because the CHR had never received enough articles focused on this period.16 Because of several influential journals in the field, relatively few articles were submitted that dealt with Latin American church history. Book reviews published in the four issues of each annual volume numbered from 150 to 200 and represented all areas and periods of church history. Several hundred book reviewers have been enlisted to sustain this effort. The “Brief Notices” section alerted users to other publications that might interest them. Whereas reviews of individual books have benefitted readers keeping up on the latest scholarship in their field, review articles and review essays also have appeared since the 1940s. In this feature, a leading historian provides a review of recent and/or significant books and/or a historical area in his or her field of expertise. By this comparative approach, the reviewer provides an overview of recent scholarly developments. The CHR’s reputation thereby advanced through the years. As Trisco reported in 1979, “frequent compliments … are paid to the journal for the quality of its articles and book reviews.” Furthermore, “[t]he number of distinguished scholars in this country and abroad, in addition to those belonging to the Association, who accept books for review” indicated the esteem enjoyed by the journal. Experts in various fields, “who have no connection with the Association or the Review, consent to evaluate articles submitted for publication and send back exceedingly constructive criticism. Although these consultants must often be unnamed, they should not remain unthanked.”17 15. “Sixty-Fifth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 71 (1985), 258–82, here 271. 16. “Seventy-Fourth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 80 (1994), 299–320, here 312. 17. “Fifty-Ninth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 65 (1979), 253–75, here 266. JOSEPH M. WHITE 843 During his editorship, Minnich has maintained the journal’s tradition of high quality. While retaining review essays and articles, he introduced the Forum—a new format in which a major, recently published book is summarized by one scholar, followed by four critiques of the book by leading historians and a response from the book’s author. He introduced the series Journeys in Church History in which a “leading figure” who had made an impact in the field based on “solid research and innovative methodologies” will “have an interesting story to tell that will be instructive and inspirational to younger scholars.” He suggested the authors address the relationship between their “personal past (e.g., religious experience)” and issues that animate their historical research, persons who encouraged their intellectual growth, and new questions they asked and the ways they found to answer them.18 Scholars who have contributed include John O’Malley, Jean Delumeau, Philip Gleason, Caroline Walker Bynum, Margaret Lavinia Anderson, and Elizabeth Clark. In 2008, the European Science Foundation assigned the CHR an “A” ranking in its initial listing of the scholarly journals in religion category. The “A” designation is assigned to “high-ranking international publications with a very strong reputation among researchers of the field in different countries, regularly cited all over the world,” according to the foundation. Few journals dedicated to religious history have an “A” ranking. In history journals, the CHR was assigned to the “B” category as “standard international publications with a good reputation among researchers of the field in different countries.”19 Through the decades, a significant aspect of the ACHA’s support for the CHR consisted of members’ voluntary financial contributions. From 1961 until 2011, CUA Press budgeted for 152 pages per issue or 608 pages per annual volume (four issues). In the mid-1960s, the ACHA annual reports began to list a small number of members making individual contributions to cover costs for additional pages per issue beyond those budgeted. By the 1970s, the request made on the annual membership renewal form for an additional monetary contribution to expand the CHR gained more support. Into the 1980s and 1990s, 150–200 members annually made contributions large and small. When Trisco retired as editor, his last issue (October 2005) contained 332 pages—the longest single CHR issue published until then—thanks to $11,772 raised that year from member dona18. Memo on “Criteria for Selecting ‘Life of Learning’ Invitees,” in author’s possession; the series was subsequently retitled Journeys in Church History. 19. As reported in “Notes and Comments,” CHR, 94 (2008), 878. 844 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” tions. In 2011, CUA Press director David McGonagle increased the number of pages per issue to 224, thereby reducing the need for donations to fund additional pages. Through the years, then, the number of pages per issue varied depending on donations and the articles, reviews, and other material available for publication. For many years, the CHR served the interests of ACHA members by publishing in the spring issue the report of the annual meeting and in every issue the Notes and Comments feature containing announcements and news of interest to the profession. A major step to advance the CHR’s circulation and influence beyond the usual group of subscribers began in 2000 when CUA Press received an invitation for the journal to join Johns Hopkins University Press’s Project MUSE online database. Beginning that year, new issues became available to Project MUSE’s subscribers—mostly libraries. In 2007, the press contracted with the online digital library JSTOR (short for Journal Storage) to have back issues from its 1915 founding until five years preceding the current volume provided to its subscribers. Since then, CHR volumes have been available to subscribers of EBSCO’s Academic Search Complete (from 1990) and Humanities International Complete (October 1995 to the present), as well as ProQuest Religion and ProQuest Research Library (July 2000 to the present). The advent of digital access that placed thousands of learned journals online has had far-reaching consequences on the dissemination of research in all fields. This explosion of access has challenged learned societies’ role in making new scholarship available. The ramifications of the digital revolution on learned journals for the ACHA and the CHR will be discussed later. ACHA Presidents and Vice-Presidents The post of ACHA president honored a distinguished historian. In some quarters, the position was regarded as “honorary”—a term often repeated—yet the presidents themselves brought differing approaches to the office depending on their interests. The Committee on Nominations annually recruited pairs of candidates representing the same area of historical study to place on the ballot for first vice-president (or for vice-president after the constitutional changes of 2009). The vice-president then became president the following year. The exception to the practice of offering two candidates for the highest offices took place with the selection of the ACHA’s designated “second JOSEPH M. WHITE 845 founder,” John Tracy Ellis, to serve in 1969. As previously mentioned, he served as the first Catholic president of the ASCH the same year. The ACHA reciprocated the ASCH’s opening its presidency to Catholics by welcoming distinguished Protestant church historians to its top office. Hence, Albert C. Outler (Southern Methodist University) was elected the first Protestant president (1972); Martin E. Marty (University of Chicago) became the second (1981). Trisco described this change as “far more than an ecumenical gesture”—one that “stems from the conviction that the study of church history is not a denominational or sectarian concern.”20 Josef Altholz became the first Jewish president in 1987. Subsequently, several non-Catholic presidents have served: Caroline Walker Bynum, Uta-Renate Blumenthal, and Daniel Bornstein. Concern for women’s status in the ACHA prompted for the first time in 1988 the election of a woman as first vice-president, Annabelle M. Melville (Bridgewater State University, MA), thereby becoming president the following year. Melville, biographer of Archbishop John Carroll of Baltimore, served as president during the bicentennial year (1989) of his selection as first bishop of the United States. Distinguished female scholars thereafter served as president in 1993, 1994, 1997, 2011, 2013, and 2015. In terms of teaching and scholarship, ACHA presidents specialized in several areas of church history—more than half were medievalists, with those working on topics involving early-modern Europe, modern Europe, and the United States well represented. There has not been a Latin American history scholar among the presidents since 1962. Some repetition has occurred regarding some presidents’ home institutions: University of Notre Dame (five presidents), CUA (three presidents), University of Chicago (three presidents), Marquette University (three presidents), and University of Toronto (two presidents). See appendix A for a list of presidents. Mostly priests served as second vice-president from 1929 to 1965; by unwritten custom, they were excluded from the presidency. After 1965, the position honored a well-known historian with a one-year position on the Executive Council until the revised ACHA constitution and bylaws in 2009 abolished the position, as will be described later. During the period, more than half the forty holders of the position were either priests or vowed religious. See appendix B for list of second vice-presidents. 20. “Fifty-First Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 57 (1971), 42–60, here 47. 846 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” Annual and Spring Meetings The AHA and affiliated historical societies such as the ACHA drew thousands of historians to the annual meeting in major cities: New York (1971, 1979, 1985, 1990, 1997, 2009, 2014), San Francisco (1973, 1978, 1983, 1989, 1994, 2002), Chicago (1974, 1984, 1986, 1991, 1995, 2000, 2003, 2012), and Washington, DC (1976, 1980, 1982, 1987, 1992, 1999, 2004, 2008, 2013).21 Other locations included Boston (1970, 2001, 2011), Atlanta (1975, 1996), Dallas (1977), Los Angeles (1981), Cincinnati (1988), New Orleans (1972), San Diego (2010), and Seattle (1998). After years of discussion about changing dates of the annual meeting from December 27–30, the AHA council transferred the meeting to the first week of January. The AHA’s last late-December annual meeting was held in 1992; the next one convened the first week of January 1994. The ACHA, although not consulted about the change, moved its annual meeting to that week and thereby continued the tradition of meeting with the AHA. Annual meetings continued to provide occasions for joint activities with other AHA-affiliated societies, especially in co-sponsoring sessions. The ACHA cosponsored sessions most years with the ASCH and the AHA. Through the years, other societies cosponsored sessions with the ACHA: American Society of Reformation Research (1972, 1975, 1976,1977, 1992), Conference on Latin American History (1970, 1973, 2005), AHA Modern European History Section (1970), American Jewish Historical Society (1971), Louisiana Historical Society (1972), Society for Italian Historical Studies (1974, 1983, 1992), Medieval Academy of America (1992), American Conference on Irish Studies (2000), and the Conference on Central European History (2000). To expand opportunities for members to share scholarship and cultivate personal contacts, the Executive Council launched an additional three-day meeting in 1972 that provided another opportunity for historians to present their work. At first named “regional,” they were soon designated “spring” meetings, scheduled for March or April, and often sponsored by a Catholic institution. There, a committee consisting of members of the history department and often other campus units organized the program. The University of Notre Dame’s history department under leader21. From the mid-1970s to early 1980s the AHA’s Council selected cities on the two coasts because several state legislatures between them did not vote to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. When the unsuccessful ratification movement concluded, Chicago resumed its role as one of the favored convention cities. JOSEPH M. WHITE 847 ship of its chair, Philip Gleason, sponsored the first. For those unable to travel to the annual meeting in December, the spring gathering provided an alternative that might be situated closer to home. By convening for three days on a college or university campus, members became better acquainted with other, mostly Catholic institutions as well as each other. The spring meeting proved an immediate and lasting success. The spring meetings afforded the following Catholic institutions and a few nonsectarian ones the opportunity to host the ACHA (see table 1 for a list of sites and dates).22 Historians in Conversation In addition to committees on nominations and membership along with those that selected recipients of prizes, several committees actively addressed timely issues and held sessions with members at the annual meeting to share ideas. The Committee on the History of American Catholicism, initiated in the mid-1960s, promoted the study of U.S. Catholics and their Church. David J. O’Brien (College of the Holy Cross), Michael Gannon (University of Florida), and Thomas E. Blantz, C.S.C. (then archivist of the University of Notre Dame and professor in its department of history), successively chaired the committee. Among the projects initiated by the committee, Ralph Weber (Marquette University) headed an effort to secure funding for scholars to undertake projects in the history of American Catholicism. His applications to the Raskob, Lilly, and Rockefeller foundations to fund such research were all rejected. Another project to compile a bibliography of writings in American Catholic history engaged scholars from many institutions and resulted in a useful report.23 22. On two occasions, the spring meeting lacked an institutional sponsor: in 1997, when the meeting merely used the facilities at University of Virginia; and in 2000, when the ACHA spring meeting was convened at a hotel in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and had an organizing committee based elsewhere. In 2010, a one-day meeting was held at Princeton University, since the institution that had previously agreed to sponsor the spring meeting had to withdraw for funding reasons. 23. Thomas E. Blantz, C.S.C., “Report of the Chairman of the Committee on the History of American Catholicism, Fifty-Sixth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 62 (1976), 250–52. 848 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” TABLE 1. Sites of the ACHA Spring Meetings, 1972–2014 Site Spring meeting date(s) Bellarmine College Boston College Cabrini College Canisius College College of the Holy Cross John Carroll University La Salle University Loyola College, Baltimore Loyola University and Tulane University, New Orleans Marian College, Indianapolis Marquette University Princeton University Providence College Saint Joseph’s University Saint Louis University St. Mary’s College, Moraga, CA St. Mary’s College, Notre Dame St. Michael’s College and Victoria College, University of Toronto St. Thomas University, Miami Santa Fe, NM Seton Hall University Stonehill College University of Dayton University of Mississippi University of Notre Dame University of Portland University of St. Thomas, Houston University of Scranton University of Virginia Villanova University Xavier University, Cincinnati 1983 1975, 1981 1999 1989 1977, 1994, 2006 1986 2009 1990 2012 1998 1980, 1995, 2007 2010 1987 1993 1974, 1982 1988 2008 2001, 2011 2004 2000 1978 2013 1976, 2005 1991 1972, 1979, 1992, 2015 2002 1996 2003 1997 1973, 1984 1985, 2014 The committee launched a project to survey diocesan archives—similar to the one last attempted in 1922. The committee circulated a questionnaire to the nation’s 167 archdioceses and dioceses to inquire about their holdings in five general categories: correspondence; baptismal, marriage, and burial records; financial records; personnel records; and records of diocesan organization, institutions, and agencies. Eventually the survey elicited 128 replies (representing a response rate of approximately 75 per- JOSEPH M. WHITE 849 cent). Some left questions unanswered, but the survey was considered worthwhile. In 1979, the results were made available in a summary report to ACHA members.24 This modest effort did not address the longstanding problem of dioceses denying access to their archives for historical research. Since seminaries consistently offered courses in church history, priests who taught the subject to future priests were interested in dialogue about the discipline. In the wake of the Second Vatican Council’s reform of seminary studies and greater historical consciousness among the disciplines traditionally taught in seminaries, several ACHA members formed the Committee on Church History in Seminaries. At the annual meeting, the committee held sessions for seminary instructors to share ideas and information. The committee’s survey of church history courses in the nation’s seminaries was issued in 1983. Although much data remained incomplete, its results revealed the uneven number of church history courses in seminaries across the country.25 Although the committee scarcely had leverage to influence the academic curriculum in seminaries, the information gathered could assist church history instructors in seminaries to promote a place for history in the seminary curriculum, in which systematic theology, moral theology, and biblical studies predominated. The Committee on the Teaching of Church History in the Secondary Schools addressed the challenge of presenting church history in Catholic high schools where minimal instruction in the field appeared to be disappearing. At the 1973 annual meeting, then-president Eric Cochrane appointed the committee, which he co-chaired with the effort’s main advocate, Sister Mary Consuela O’Callaghan, I.H.M. (Immaculata College, Pennsylvania).26 They sought members to form subcommittees representing regions across the country. Through the 1970s, the committee provided a forum for those interested in high school instruction in church history to share ideas on teaching and promoting church history in high schools. The organized conversations of the three aforementioned committees lapsed by the early 1980s. Their influence would be difficult to measure. Their ultimate value perhaps lay in the conversations themselves and the ideas from discussions that participants could introduce at their own institutions. 24. “Sixtieth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 66 (1980), 230–49, here 235–36. 25. Lawrence Nemer, S.V.D., “Report on the Study of Church History in Roman Catholic Seminaries in the United States,” CHR, 69 (1983), 636–37. 26. “Fifty-Fourth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 60 (1974), 65–85, here 72–73. 850 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” In 1975, the ACHA joined with other Catholic learned societies to form the Joint Committee of Catholic Learned Societies and Scholars (JCCLSS), which entered into dialogue with the Committee on Doctrine of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). It aimed “to develop and co-ordinate the work of the societies and scholars in order to make their scholarly competency available to the Church through the bishops. . . .”27 Monsignor Frederick McManus (School of Canon Law, CUA) described it as a response to “the well documented attacks upon Catholic scholars, especially biblical and theological scholars, in the right-wing Catholic media and among apparently well financed groups.”28 Nine Catholic learned societies initially were in the JCLSS: the ACHA, American Catholic Philosophical Association, Canon Law Society of America, Catholic Biblical Association, Catholic Theological Society of America, College Theology Society, Fellowship of Catholic Scholars, Mariological Society of America, and North American Academy of Liturgy. . Beginning in 1978, the societies’ representatives collaborated with the JCCLSS and the NCCB Committee on Doctrine in an annual themed colloquium that hosted bishops and scholars. ACHA representatives on the JCLSS included William A. Hinnebusch, O.P. (Dominican House of Studies, Washington, DC, 1975–78); R. Emmett Curran, S.J. (Georgetown University, 1978–84); and Jeffrey von Arx, S.J., (Georgetown University, 1984–98).29 In 1987, the meetings were reorganized. A Commission of Bishops and Scholars, a standing cooperative structure under the NCCB Committee on Doctrine, served as the conduit to organize the meetings. Thereafter, annual gatherings of scholars and bishops were convened in a different region of the country to facilitate the participation of bishops.30 Given the predominance of theological disciplines on the JCCLSS, the role of church historians appears slight. How much the historical per- 27. “Fifty-Eighth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 64 (1978), 214–31, here 221. 28. “Sixty-Third Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 69 (1983), 249–67 here 255. He evidently meant the attacks on biblical scholars such as Raymond Brown, S.S., who used the historical-critical method of biblical studies, and theologians noted for historical analysis in their writings. 29. “Fifty-Sixth Annual Meeting,” p. 253. 30. Jeffrey von Arx, S.J., “Report of the Delegate to the Joint Committee of Catholic Learned Societies and Scholars, Sixty-Ninth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 75 (1989), 275–76. JOSEPH M. WHITE 851 spective could influence the minds of bishops belongs to the realm of speculation. Eventually interest waned in the quixotic idea that bishops might benefit from learning about aspects of Catholic thought from scholars. The JCCLSS came to an end in 1998. The John Carroll Papers The John Carroll Papers project, originally launched in 1952 to publish the papers of the first U.S. bishop, advanced toward a favorable conclusion under the editorship of Thomas O’Brien Hanley, S.J. In 1970, John Tracy Ellis secured a grant from the Raskob Foundation for Catholic Causes to support the project. By 1972, Hanley had edited 2500 pages of typescript ready for a publisher. The U.S. subsidiary of an Irish publisher was contracted to publish the papers but unfortunately went out of business. In 1973, when Trisco recommended the project to the NCCB’s Committee for the Observance of the Bicentennial of the United States, one member, Cardinal Lawrence Sheehan of Baltimore, offered to fund its publication. The University of Notre Dame Press then published the Carroll Papers in three volumes in advance of the bicentennial year.31 This publication, along with an issue of the CHR devoted to articles on American Catholicism, served as the ACHA’s contribution to the 1976 celebration of the nation’s bicentennial.32 The John Gilmary Shea Prize For the ACHA’s premier book prize—established in 1946 and honoring nineteenth-century church historian John Gilmary Shea—selections reflect a departure from the institutional and biographical approaches that had long marked Catholic historiography. The 1970 selection—the biography of Margaret Higgins Sanger, an ex-Catholic and the major American apostle of the birth control movement—marked a shift from the kind of works that portray Catholicism in the most positive light. Jaroslav Pelikan, the 1971 honoree and a Lutheran at the time, addressed the history of early Christianity. Through the years a wide range of topics and periods mostly focusing on European and 31. Thomas O’Brien Hanley, The John Carroll Papers (Notre Dame, 1975). Thomas W. Spalding, C.F.X., with the assistance of Paul K. Thomas, published a supplement of overlooked or undiscovered Carroll documents: John Carroll Recovered: Abstracts of Letters and Other Documents Not Found in the John Carroll Papers (Baltimore, 2000). 32. “Fifty-Fourth Annual Meeting,” pp. 76–77; “Fifty-Seventh Annual Meeting,” pp. 257–58. 852 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” American history and employing varied methodologies were recognized in the selection of prize winners. For the recipients, the prize enhanced their professional credentials for academic promotion, and promotional efforts for their books identified them as Shea prize recipients. The resulting publicity gained additional recognition for the ACHA. The Shea prize honored a mix of senior and junior scholars. See appendix C for list of honorees and their works. The Howard R. Marraro Prize The ACHA launched its second book prize to recognize excellence in historical scholarship in a specific field. Howard R. Marraro (1897–1972), professor of Italian history at Columbia University, left bequests in 1972 of $10,000 each to the ACHA, the AHA, and the Society for Italian Historical Studies to establish prizes for each organization to award its own Howard and Helen Marraro Prize for a book on Italian history.33 Like the committee charged to select the Shea Prize, the one choosing the Marraro Prize became a permanent part of the ACHA’s organizational life. Once conferred, the relevant publisher’s promotional efforts could cite the book as a Marraro prize winner, benefitting the author and bringing attention to the ACHA. Like the Shea prize, the Marraro prize was announced at the annual meeting. See appendix D for list of ecipients. The Guilday and Ellis Prizes Two additional prizes were established to honor ACHA founder Peter Guilday and “second founder,” Monsignor John Tracy Ellis; their conferral recognized scholars who were at an early stage in their careers. In 1971, the Peter Guilday Prize was established to recognize an author whose first article was published in the CHR. The prize was conferred for the first time in 1972.34 Given the limited number of articles appearing in the journal that represent their author’s first published works, 33. The AHA Web site lists authors and volumes recognized with the Marraro Prize. The ACHA recipients named above differ from those of the AHA and the Society for Italian Historical Studies. At present, the ACHA Web site erroneously lists the 2010–12 AHA recipients as those of the ACHA. 34. “Fifty-Third Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 59 (1973), 39–59, here 44. JOSEPH M. WHITE 853 the prize has not been awarded annually. See appendix E for list of winners and their titles. On October 16, 1992, Ellis died at Providence Hospital in Washington, DC. Catholic publications paid tribute to his contributions to Catholic scholarship and the debate he stirred on the state of American Catholic intellectual life. To honor Ellis’s memory, the Executive Council established the John Tracy Ellis Memorial Fund in 1995 to aid doctoral students’ dissertation research in Catholic history. That year’s president, Jay P. Dolan, appointed past president Philip Gleason as chair of the tenmember Ellis committee. Gleason composed the committee’s letter describing the dissertation award and soliciting funds to endow the award. Using membership lists of the National Catholic Educational Association, Council of Societies for the Study of Religion, Catholic Theological Society of America, the Cushwa Center for the Study of American Catholicism, and other organizations, 3634 letters were mailed in June 1995. By early 1996, 203 donors contributing amounts from $10 to $1000 raised more than $20,000.35 The Ellis Prize committee then promoted the award that was conferred for the first time at the 1998 annual meeting and awarded annually thereafter. See appendix F for a list of recipients. Corresponding Fellows In 1982, the Executive Council launched a class of honorary ACHA members—Corresponding Fellows—who resided outside North America. Robert Burns, S.J., the 1975 ACHA president with a wide range of European contacts, urged the adoption of honorary fellows. This development brings to mind Guilday’s efforts in the late 1920s to establish contacts with European church historians to foster exchanges of information and potential contributions of articles and book reviews to the CHR. The immediate past president, Martin Havran, chaired the ad hoc committee that included past presidents David Herlihy and Edward T. Gargan. The committee examined other learned societies’ rules for recruiting leading scholars as honorary members and devised a set of regulations, which were approved by the Executive Council. ACHA members were then invited to nominate scholars who had made an “outstanding contribution to the historiography of the Catholic Church broadly considered,” supported the “purposes of the Association,” and were neither citizens nor permanent residents of the United States or Canada. The fellows were recruited to make the ACHA’s 35. “Seventy-Sixth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 82 (1996), 225–44, here 232. “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” 854 activities better known abroad and to expand the Association’s knowledge “about activities that may interest us in foreign countries.”36 The committee selected nominees, and the Executive Council chose candidates. In 1984, the following scholars representing areas from medieval to modern Church history accepted appointment as Corresponding Fellows37: • Roger Aubert (Catholic University of Louvain-la-Neuve, Belgium) • Owen Chadwick (University of Cambridge, United Kingdom) • Jean Delumeau (Collège de France, France) • Jerzy Kloczowski (Catholic University of Lublin, Poland) • Michele Maccarone (Pontifical Lateran University, Rome) • Konrad Repgen (University of Bonn, Germany) As needed, new corresponding fellows joined the group. Michele Maccarone died in 1994; Giuseppe Alberigo (University of Bologna) accepted appointment in 1995, serving until his death in 2007. Likewise, Antonio Garcia y Garcia, O.F.M. (Pontifical University of Salamanca, Spain) was appointed in 1995 and died in 2013. Among founding fellows, Roger Aubert died in 2010, as did Owen Chadwick in 2015. The volume of news and information that the Corresponding Fellows generated for placement in the CHR’s Notes and Comments feature did not fulfill original expectations. Finances From its founding, the “small and honorable” ACHA had secured most revenue from membership fees to meet expenses. As noted, membership stabilized at about 1000 to 1100 from the 1970s through the 1990s. Increases in ACHA revenue resulted mostly from periodically raising the annual membership fee. In the early 1970s, membership cost $12.50 for individuals and $250 for life members. The fee defrayed the expense of members’ CHR subscription for which the ACHA paid to the CUA Press an amount 20 percent less than that paid by a nonmember subscriber. The annual fee for membership was raised to $17.50 by 1983 and $350 for life members. As of 2015, the fee for annual membership was $60 and students $30. By then, life membership had been discontinued. Since the 1970s, the ACHA’s financial capability improved as the value of investments increased. In 1970, after a half century in existence, 36. “Sixty-Fourth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 70 (1983), 249–67, here 274. 37. “Report of the Committee on Corresponding Fellows, Sixty-Fifth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 71 (1985), 264. JOSEPH M. WHITE 855 its investments were valued at a modest $25,442. Despite the financial challenges of the 1970s, its investments grew to $54,843 by 1980. The latter figure did not include the $10,000 bequest received in 1972 to fund the Howard R. Marraro Prize. In the wake of his 1983 appointment as treasurer and at the behest of the Executive Council, Trisco enlisted the support of CUA colleagues to form a Committee on Investments. Initially Monsignor Carl Peter, dean of the School of Theology and Religious Studies, and Alexander Woroniak, professor in the Business and Economics Department, served on the committee.38 In succession to Peter, Richard Morris, professor in the latter department, joined the committee. By the 1990s, the Investment Committee consisted of Professors Reza Saidi and Jamshed Uppal of the same department. In 1989, a new fund was added to the ACHA portfolio. That year, Monsignor Peter launched a fund honoring the memory of Ann Wolf beginning with a $4000 donation.39 In an effort recalling the dream of ACHA founder Guilday to develop a large endowment to fund the organization and its research and writing projects, Bernard Reilly, ACHA president in 1988, personally promoted an endowment campaign among members. His efforts produced a modest $4,492 that started a special fund within the ACHA portfolio.40 During a period of the 1980s rapid economic growth and the oversight of the Committee on Investments steadily raised the amount of invested funds to $240,922 (1990), $996,036 (2000), and $1,064,389 (2002). In subsequent years, ups and downs in the national economy led to a decade of fluctuation in the value of investments. In 2002, the ACHA’s former treasurer, Monsignor Harry C. Koenig, died and left a bequest of $50,000 to create a permanent fund for “promoting the publication of biographies of members of the Catholic Church who have lived in any age or country.”41 38. “Sixty-Fourth Annual Meeting,” p. 277. 39. “Seventieth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 76 (1990), 295–317, here 305. 40. “Seventy-First Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 77 (1991), 260–82, here 270. 41. “Eighty-Third Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 89 (2003), 258–76, here 267. “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” 856 In 2003, the $10,000 bequest of John Whitney Evans, priest of the Diocese of Duluth, Minnesota, and professor in the College of St. Scholastica, was assigned to assist in funding the John Gilmary Shea Prize.42 By the early–twenty-first century, mounting expenses and the inability of membership fees to cover expenses meant that the ACHA had to draw on investments regularly to continue its operations. This situation will be discussed later. Milestones and Transitions In 1994, the ACHA passed the milestone of seventy-five years. By the 1990s, the Association, as one of the oldest societies affiliated with the AHA, had advanced to senior status among them. On the occasion, Trisco reminded members that over the years, “it has been winning ever greater respect from non-Catholic and Catholic scholars alike. It has become a truly national and to some extent even an international society.” He recalled to members its early years, “preoccupied with defending the historical truth concerning the Church against falsehoods and misinterpretations due to prejudice or ignorance.” Although that era had ended, it has continued to promote the study of Christianity, especially of Catholic Christianity, in all ages, to foster a better appreciation of the immense debt that our present-day civilization owes to Christianity, and to present a Christian view of history in this era of contrary philosophies. In his view, [f]ar from separating its Catholic members from their non-Catholic colleagues, it brings them into closer contact at its annual meetings and in other activities, and at the same time it helps them to preserve their religious identity, which is essential for any efficacious dialogue with nonCatholic Christians or with non-Christians. Moreover, as the “leaven in the mass,” it embodied the “same potential for growth and for good as it had at the beginning.”43 Another milestone approached at the beginning of 2003, when Trisco informed the Executive Council of his desire to step down as ACHA sec42. “Eighty-Fourth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 90 (2004), 273–90, here 282. 43. “Seventy-Fifth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 81 (1995), 226–50, here 235–36. JOSEPH M. WHITE 857 retary-treasurer and CHR editor. That year’s president, Bernard McGinn (University of Chicago), recruited an ad hoc advisory committee consisting of former ACHA presidents Gerald Fogarty, S.J. (University of Virginia) and Joseph H. Lynch (Ohio State University), as well as R. Scott Appleby (University of Notre Dame), to consider how to proceed with appointing a new secretary-treasurer. This committee and Trisco met at the ACHA spring meeting at the University of Scranton. Afterward, McGinn reported to the Executive Council the committee’s view that the positions of secretary-treasurer and editor no longer should be held by the same person. He then approached two CUA faculty members to serve as secretary-treasurer. The council was reminded that CUA as owner of the journal appointed the CHR editor.44 The selection of the new editor was resolved first. After consultation with the Executive Council, David McGonagle, director of CUA Press, secured the approval CUA provost John Convey for a “plan of succession.” Nelson H. Minnich, advisory editor and ordinary (full) professor of church history in the School of Theology and Religious Studies and the department of history, was appointed associate editor for 2003–04. After a previously planned sabbatical for 2004–05, he became editor on September 1, 2005.45 The ACHA’s search process for the secretary-treasurer position resulted in recruiting Leslie Woodcock Tentler, professor in CUA’s department of history. She accepted appointment as assistant secretarytreasurer at the beginning of 2004 as the first step in becoming secretarytreasurer the following year. That spring, in light of her other academic duties, she decided to resign the position. Timothy Meagher, associate professor in CUA’s department of history and director of its American Catholic History Research Center and University Archives, then accepted appointment as assistant secretary-treasurer for 2005 and took up the secretary-treasurer position at the beginning of 2006.46 After forty-five years as the ACHA secretary, twenty-three years as its treasurer, and forty-three years as the CHR editor—about twice as long as 44. Bernard McGinn to All Members of the Executive Council of the ACHA and Members of the Ad Hoc Committee to Advise in the Future of the ACHA, April 1, 2003, Correspondence with the President, Box 81, ACHA Collection, ACUA. 45. David McGonagle to Bernard McGinn, email copy, June 30, 2004, Box 81, ACHA Collection, ACUA. 46. “Eighty-Fifth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 91 (2005), 321–38, here 330. 858 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” the terms of his predecessors, Guilday and Ellis—Trisco was honored at the 2006 ACHA presidential luncheon. There, his former doctoral student, Archbishop Timothy Dolan of Milwaukee (subsequently cardinalarchbishop of New York), paid a warm tribute to his mentor. In a session honoring Trisco entitled “Studies in Church Leadership: American Cardinals in the Twentieth Century,” four of his doctoral students served as chair/commentator or presenters.47 Trisco had every reason to expect an uninterrupted semi-retirement, serving as the CHR’s associate editor for book reviews. At the beginning of 2007, Meagher decided to resign as secretary-treasurer to focus on his teaching and administrative duties.48 Trisco resumed the secretary-treasurer position until the beginning of 2009. In 2008, the ACHA’s search for a secretary-treasurer yielded Paul Robichaud, C.S.P., priest of the Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle (Paulists) and director of its Office of Paulist History. He resided at St. Paul’s College near the CUA campus. After serving as assistant to Trisco in 2008, he became secretary-treasurer at the beginning of 2009. For health reasons, Robichaud announced his intention to resign at the beginning of 2011. He left the office in mid-year. During 2011, ACHA leaders conducted a search for a successor. In due course, the Executive Council selected as executive secretary R. Bentley Anderson, S.J., priest of the Southern Province of the Society of Jesus and associate professor in the African and African American Studies program at Fordham University.49 His appointment required moving the ACHA executive office to New York. Fordham University offered the Association a satisfactory financial arrangement for office support. The CHR’s office remained at the Mullen Library. Anderson began service 47. “Eighty-Sixth Annual Meeting,” pp. 247–48. Trisco’s doctoral students had contributed to a Festschrift honoring their mentor, Raymond Kupke and Joseph Linck, editors, Building the Church in America: Studies in Honor of Monsignor Robert F. Trisco on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday (Washington, DC, 1999). 48. Joseph Chinnici, O.F.M., to Executive Council, Berkeley, CA, April 17, 2007, Correspondence with the President, 2005–2007, Box 81, ACUA. 49. “Report of the President, Ninety-Second Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 98 (2012), 319–20. In addition to Taylor and Thomas F. X. Noble (first vice-president) and Minnich as ex officio members, the Executive Council in 2011 consisted of elected members: R. Bentley Anderson, S.J.; Robert Carbonneau, C.P. (Passionist Historical Archives); Roy Domenico (University of Scranton); Richard Gyug (Fordham University); Anne Klejment (University of St. Thomas); and Elizabeth W. McGahan (University of New Brunswick). JOSEPH M. WHITE 859 informally in July and officially on October 1, 2011, with the opening of the office at Fordham. 50 New Directions During this period of transition in leadership, a consensus developed that organizational structures needed examination and practices updated. The 1920 ACHA constitution, although amended several times since its introduction, required extensive revision. For that purpose in 2008, ACHA president Robert Bireley, S.J.; , former president Joseph Chinnici, O.F.M. (Franciscan School of Theology, Berkeley); and Trisco began to discuss a new constitution. They—as well as Robichaud; first vice-president William Chester Jordan; Nelson H. Minnich; four of the six elected Executive Council members; and Angelyn Dries, O.S.F. (Saint Louis University and chair of the ACHA Committee on Membership)—met at Washington University in St. Louis in September 2008 to revise the constitution. The revised constitution and bylaws were ratified at the annual meeting in January 2009. The new version removed practices no longer relevant and codified unwritten ones. Notable changes included the abolition of the largely honorary position of second vice-president and a shift from former presidents serving indefinitely on the Executive Council to only the immediate past president serving in a such a role. The president gained greater responsibility for appointing committees and convening the Executive Council. The secretary-treasurer would serve for a three-year term that could be renewed instead of serving at the pleasure of the Executive Council. The title of secretary was changed to executive secretary. To replace the former Committee on Investments, a Finance Council was established that set to work on devising new guidelines for investments.51 With the benefit of greater clarity under the revised constitution, the president could initiate changes. To make the role more visible, the president was charged with issuing an annual report. In 2010 William Chester Jordan (Princeton University) became the first president to issue such a report, which duly appeared in the CHR’s spring issue.52 The annual 50. “Report of the President [Avella], Ninety-First Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 97 (2011), 314–20. 51. “Eighty-Ninth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 95 (2009), 283–312. The text of the new constitution and bylaws are included in the report. 52. “Report of the President, Ninetieth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 96 (2010), 296. 860 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” report of the executive secretary that had appeared previously in each spring issue of CHR moved to the ACHA Web site. At the September 2008 meeting previously mentioned, the group endorsed the introduction of a new interactive Web site. ACHA’s existing Web site introduced in 2001 lacked the interactive features. As then thought, an expanded and interactive Web site was needed to attract to membership technically savvy younger scholars. As the new executive secretary, Robichaud, who had previous experience with Web site designers, assumed responsibility for finding a firm to create an interactive one for the ACHA. The new ACHA Web site went online in early March 2010 to become eventually, as 2010 president Steven M. Avella noted, “the ACHA’s primary medium of communication, providing easy registration for ACHA meetings, and offering opportunity for members to share their scholarly projects and ideas as well as links to other sites of interest to Catholic historians.”53 Since considerable resources (about $9000) were expended on installing the Web site and annual compensation for the webmaster (then $7500), he urged members to make use of the Web site as it developed. During 2010 Avella and vice-president Larissa Taylor “recruited articles, synopses of papers, and other such materials” for the Web site.54 From others, they solicited contributions such as syllabi to enlarge the amount of useful information available to members. Strains on the ACHA budget emerged by the early–twenty-first century. The days of donated services of Anne Wolf gave way to the need to fund half her successors’ salaries. Trisco and his successor, Timothy Meagher, had served as secretary-treasurer without compensation from the ACHA. CUA provided office space, telephones, and Internet service gratis until the ACHA office moved. Since the 1990s expenses related to participation in the AHA annual meeting among several new expenses steadily increased. Periodically raising membership fees did not raise sufficient revenue to meet rising expenditures. Hiring secretary-treasurers (Robichaud and Anderson) outside the CUA faculty required paying them a stipend, thereby adding a new category of expenditure. In light of new expenses—especially the new, interactive Web site— Avella appointed in 2010 an ad hoc committee consisting of Margaret 53. “Report of the President, Ninety-First Annual Meeting,” p. 317. 54. Ibid., p. 317. JOSEPH M. WHITE 861 McGuinness (La Salle University), Karen Kennelly, C.S.J. (College of St. Catherine), and Rodger Van Allen (Villanova University) to examine the ACHA’s organizational issues and formulate recommendations for the Executive Council. In the course of their work, they delved into financial issues, recommended separating the secretary and treasurer positions, questioned the need for the ACHA office to remain at CUA, and objected to the amount paid by the ACHA for CHR subscriptions.55 Recognition and Awards Building on learned societies’ longstanding tradition of recognizing excellence reflected in awarding prizes for books, articles, and dissertations, the ACHA expanded its practice of recognizing leading scholars. In January 2010, the Executive Council approved a new initiative to recognize historical contributions over the course of a career with annual awards in three areas—teaching, scholarship, and service. The last, as then-ACHA president William Chester Jordan noted, was intended “as recognition of the activities of professionals, such as archivists, librarians, philanthropists, and museum curators, who have consistently promoted Catholic studies in their work.”56 Beginning in 2011, the awards were conferred at the annual meeting; see figures 1–3 and table 2 for a list of recipients. At the same January 2010 meeting, the Executive Council approved the proposal of then-vice-president Avella to establish Presidential Graduate Fellowships that would fund expenses for graduate students to attend the ACHA annual meeting. During his presidential term, he personally secured donations of more than $4000 from former ACHA presidents and $6000 from a select number of bishops. In 2011, the ACHA awarded $500 grants each to two graduate students whose papers were accepted for presentation at the ACHA annual and spring meetings.57 The first awards were given to Monica Mercado (University of Chicago) and Sheila Nowinski (University of Notre Dame). Such an effort reinforced the ongoing outreach to attract younger scholars to join the ACHA. Another initiative to attract “younger blood” 55. Report, CHR office file. 56. “Report of the President [Jordan], Ninetieth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 96 (2010), 296. 57. “Report of the President, Ninety-First Annual Meeting,” pp. 315–16. 862 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” FIGURE 1. Frank Coppa (St. John’s University), center, receives the first ACHA Lifetime Distinguished Scholar Award from 2011 ACHA president Larissa Juliet Taylor and 2010 ACHA president Steven M. Avella in Boston in 2011. Photo by Nelson H. Minnich consisted of sponsoring networking sessions for younger scholars beginning at the 2010 spring meeting. Such sessions aimed to serve their early professional interests and functioned as an outreach for them to join the ACHA. The Harry Koenig Award for biography established in 2002 and subsequently requiring the development of award guidelines, was conferred in 2014 for the first time to Robert Ventresca for Soldier for Christ: The Life of Pius XII (Cambridge, MA). Signs of the Times In the early–twenty-first century, current trends external to the ACHA and the CHR and the internal developments previously described launched both into challenges previously unknown. Two major areas of change that affected each entity and their relationship are considered below: first, new directions in studying the Catholic past; and second, the digital revolution that has altered the life of academic journals and the learned societies sponsoring them. Church History and the Catholic Past Through the late-twentieth century, historical study of the Catholic past changed gradually but markedly. In other words, as the saying goes, JOSEPH M. WHITE 863 FIGURE 2. Kenneth Pennington (The Catholic University of America) receives the first ACHA Excellence in Teaching Award in Boston in 2011. Photo by Nelson H. Minnich. “the past isn’t what it used to be.” Social sciences have provided methodologies that reinforced the trend toward addressing religious behaviors of peoples in a given era, in a place, or via a specific theme. Titles of winners of ACHA’s prizes attest to the ongoing transition. In his 1977 ACHA presidential address, John Lukacs explained the trend. Taking his cue from a brief section of Alexis de Tocqueville’s classic Democracy in America (1835) on the writing of history in a democratic age, he noted the current direction of scholars creating a “history of believers and history of belief. The history of religion in a democratic age transcends church history on the one hand, and the history of ideas on the other.”58 Examining the Church via a focus on the activities of leaders and thinkers was diminishing. The term church history as a label for the common pursuit of exploring the Catholic past was giving way to broader terms such as Catholicism, popular religion, religious studies, and prominently 58. Lukacs, “The Historiographical Problem of Belief,” p. 154. See also Lukacs, The Future of History (New Haven, 2011). 864 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” FIGURE 3. Sister Mary Hughes, O.P. (left), and Sister Helen Maher Garvey, B.V.M., accept the first ACHA Service to Catholic Studies Award in Boston in 2011 on behalf of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. Photo by Nelson H. Minnich. “lived religion.”59 “Catholic studies” introduced at several Catholic colleges and universities embraced varied ways of addressing the Catholic past.60 Not all sympathized with the trend. In a session at the 1999 annual meeting discussing the future of the ACHA, several scholars addressed trends that included those in their own specialty. In response, former ACHA president Josef Altholz urged a return to examining the Church as an institution, which he evidently valued.61 Perhaps, then, Altholz wanted members to “swim against the tide.”62 59. In the 1970s, two active ACHA groups, the Committee on the Teaching of Church History in the Secondary Schools and the Committee on Church History in Seminaries, used the inherited term church history in their titles, whereas the Committee on American Catholicism did not. 60. For the varied dimensions of Catholic studies, see James T. Fisher and Margaret M. McGuinness, eds., The Catholic Studies Reader (New York, 2011), containing essays of seventeen contributors practicing in the field. 61. “Seventy-Ninth Annual Meeting of the American Catholic Historical Association,” CHR, 85 (1999), 233–55, here 237. 62. In the course of evaluating articles and manuscripts for publication and serving as principal copyeditor for the U.S. Catholic Historian (until 2014), this writer found the trend toward “lived religion” led scholars to an increasing subjectivity regarding descriptions of past Catholic belief and practice, lack of familiarity with canonical and theological concepts, and TABLE 2. ACHA Awards for Teaching, Scholarship, and Service Individual/Entity Institution ACHA Lifetime Distinguished Scholarship Award 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 Frank Coppa John O’Malley, S.J. Marvin R. O’Connell James T. Fisher William L. Portier St. John’s University Georgetown University University of Notre Dame Fordham University University of Dayton ACHA Excellence in Teaching Award 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 Kenneth Pennington Angelyn Dries, O.S.F. Cyprian Davis, O.S.B. Roy Domenico Dennis R. Ryan The Catholic University of America Saint Louis University St. Meinrad Archabbey and Seminary University of Scranton College of New Rochelle ACHA Service to Catholic Studies Award 2010 Leadership Conference of Women Religious 2011 John Treanor Archdiocese of Chicago 2012 2013 Norman C. Francis Karen M. Kennelly, C.S.J. Xavier University of Louisiana Conference on the History of Women Religious 2014 Institute of Jesuit Sources, Missouri Province, Society of Jesus Comment for “Women & Spirit: Catholic Sisters in America” traveling exhibition Vice chancellor for records and archives President Accepted by John Padberg, S.J., director 865 Year JOSEPH M. WHITE Award title 866 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” Expanding ways of explaining the Catholic past beyond the inherited “church history” model coincided with the increase of learned societies and journals—118 currently affiliated with the AHA. Beyond the AHA “umbrella,” learned societies associated with religion, religious studies, and theology are available to scholars examining the Catholic past. The ACHA faced the challenge of finding a niche in the ever-changing firmament of learned societies and of attracting history-minded scholars to membership. In light of the transitions of ACHA membership by the early–twentyfirst century, the sharp decline in the number of priests and women religious, who had for many years constituted at least half of the ACHA membership, points to the need to find a category of potential members. Given the general decline in the population of clergy and religious, appealing to the latter groups to join may hold limited promise of success. ACHA leaders’ periodic calls to invite younger scholars to join will need to address incentives to draw them to membership in light of the attraction of joining other learned societies. The ACHA officials may need to re-examine what has been a major benefit of membership—a subscription to the CHR. The ACHA historically has paid to CUA Press a subscription rate of 20 percent less than the regular subscription rate. In 2010, the CHR reduced the subscription rate for ACHA members to 50 percent of the amount charged to subscribers. Nonetheless, the journal’s availability to scholars and students through their institution’s library databases may have created a disincentive to joining the ACHA that may pose an ongoing challenge to sustaining membership. The Digital Revolution and the CHR The production of scholarly journals faced new challenges when the digital revolution made them available online. The challenges have raised questions about the future of learned societies even sponsoring journals. Foremost, the academic journal as an artifact has entered a period of transition. Most journals have become available to nonsubscribers and nonmembers of a sponsoring learned society; typically, a journal subscription is a benefit of membership. Increasingly users seldom hold a journal in misuse of Catholic terms. This growing trend, opposing the goal of objectivity that formerly prevailed in Catholic historical writing, brings to mind Humpty Dumpty, who told Alice in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass (Philadelphia, 1897), “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less” (p. 123, emphasis in original). JOSEPH M. WHITE 867 their hands since individual articles are available from electronic databases. Such availability has diminished the incentive to subscribe to a journal in print. Open-access journals have gained influence; these are scholarly journals available online to the reader without financial, legal, or technical barriers other than those related to accessing the Internet. Although such publications are freely available to the reader, costs are still associated with the publication and production of such journals. Some are subsidized, and some require payment on behalf of the author. The advent of the digital revolution has had tremendous economic impact on learned societies and academic journals. Recent studies have indicated a shift of revenue from print subscriptions to those in databases and other electronic versions. Recent literature has addressed the vastness of this new trend that involves learned societies, academic journals, publishing issues, and shifts of revenues and expenditures.63 The ACHA and the CHR Substantial changes within the ACHA in recent years also included changes in the relationship between its officers and CUA Press, which have become strained in regard to issues surrounding their longstanding connection. That problems would emerge may surprise members. For instance, 2012 ACHA president Thomas F. X. Noble has recorded “surprise” upon learning after his election that the Association did not own the CHR.64 This writer, who joined the ACHA in 1977, had a similar reaction as he began examining the history of both entities. That the ACHA does not own and is not entitled to direct any aspect of the CHR represents an anomaly in the world of learned societies and their journals. One would ordinarily assume that a society’s official journal is one that it owns, directs, and for which it has financial responsibility. A minority of historical journals have ceded ownership to other organizations. 63. This topic is too vast to summarize even briefly in this article. The issues are discussed, and hard data are available, in articles such as Bonnie Wheeler, “Journal Identity in the Digital Age: A 2008 CELJ Roundtable,” Journal of Scholarly Publishing 42 (2010), 45– 88; Mary Waltham, “The Future of Scholarly Journal Publishing among Social Science and Humanities Associations: Report on a Study Funded by a Planning Grant from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation,” Journal of Scholarly Publishing, 41 (2010), 257–324; and Angus Phillips, “Blog to the Future? Journal Publishing in the Twenty-First Century,” Journal of Scholarly Publishing, 42 (2010), 16–30. 64. Letter from Thomas F. X. Noble to Trevor Lipscombe, November 15, 2011, CHR Office File. 868 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” Understanding the strained relationship prompts some historical reflection. After the CHR’s founding at CUA in 1915, Peter Guilday— the first CHR editor and the university’s first professionally trained history professor—advocated the founding of a national-level Catholic historical society. He convened the founding meeting of the ACHA in 1919 and in 1922 brought about the CHR’s designation as its official journal. Attentive to the common practices of learned societies, he noted to CUA’s thenrector, Bishop Thomas Shahan, as early as 1920 that he expected the ACHA to own the CHR.65 In 1928 Guilday, with the ACHA Executive Council’s endorsement, asked the CUA rector, Monsignor James H. Ryan, to transfer CHR ownership to the ACHA, thereby ensuring that the latter had complete editorial and financial control of its official journal. He did not succeed in this effort, but he was reappointed CHR’s editor and was allowed to reorganize its editorial operation to ensure that he and other ACHA members produced the journal.66 Although the ACHA and the CHR were separately constituted, the CHR editor and ACHA secretary positions were united in the same person—Guilday and successors John Tracy Ellis and Robert F. Trisco— as the basis of a smooth working relationship at CUA where graduate studies in Catholic Church history had first been introduced in the United States. The university provided facilities to the ACHA virtually free of charge. Through the decades, then, the ACHA’s leaders have not contested CUA’s ownership of the CHR. Changes to the ACHA through the early–twenty-first century have led to new conversations and some tension about the relationship of the ACHA, the CHR, and CUA. The ACHA’s financial challenges in a period of rising expenditures have created strains. As a serious handicap to its ability to expand its activities, the ACHA Executive Council has no control of income or expenditures related to the CHR. CUA Press makes all financial decisions related to the CHR and determines the discounted subscription rate. In 2013, under President Margaret McGuinness, the ACHA’s relationship with the CHR was re-negotiated so that the journal no longer prints the annual 65. Of the six academic and/or professional journals founded at CUA in the early– twentieth century—some under university ownership and others not—only the CHR remains. CUA Press acquired the U.S. Catholic Historian in 2008. CUA is home to the Review of Metaphysics office but does not own it. 66. See White, “‘In the interest of true history,’” pp. 246–49. JOSEPH M. WHITE 869 meeting and financial reports. The CHR does publish the prize citations, personal notes, and obituary notices of leading historians. An electronic version of the CHR is available to members. Bucking the national trend toward financial transparency of Catholic institutions, CUA Press director Trevor Lipscombe does not disclose information on the cost of producing the CHR and the income derived from royalties from database subscriptions and individual article orders. This source of revenue has become crucial to the financial interests of many small learned societies.67 Unlike other learned societies that own their own official journals, the ACHA lacks the capability to make overall financial decisions concerning its official journal. ACHA executive secretary Anderson responded to the situation by excluding CHR editor Nelson H. Minnich from executive session meetings of the ACHA Executive Council during 2011 and 2012, although Minnich’s position as CHR editor means that he serves as an ex officio member of the Executive Council.68 He was excluded from receiving agenda and related materials for the January 2013 Executive Council meeting. Anderson also denied the author’s request for access to ACHA records in the American Catholic Research Center and University Archives at CUA to research and write this and the previous article on the ACHA/CHR history. McGuinness granted the needed permission in 2013. From the perspective of their past close connection and home at CUA, the ACHA and CHR have drifted apart from each other. As the positions of CHR editor and ACHA executive secretary and treasurer are no longer held by the same person, and the ACHA headquarters has moved from the CUA campus to Fordham University, the “space” between the two has increased. From the model of defining stakeholders and their stakes in the two enterprises, CUA Press has complete authority over the CHR. Thus it receives revenue; selects the editor and associate editor after consultation with the ACHA; pays the salaries of staff members; covers production, fulfillment, and marketing costs; and sets the price of subscriptions for ACHA members, individual subscribers, and institutional subscribers. It has little stake in the ACHA’s well-being. 67. See Wheeler, “Journal Identity”; Waltham, “Future”; Phillips, “Blog.” 68. Letter from Nelson H. Minnich to Margaret McGuinness, February 2, 2013, CHR Office file. 870 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” What stake does the ACHA have in its relationship with the CHR? The journal no longer publishes its official reports now available to members on its Web site. For members and others, the CHR is widely available through databases accessible in a wide range of academic and public libraries. As the ACHA approaches its centenary in 2019, its leaders may take the opportunity to examine their learned society’s origins, history, and organizational effectiveness in light of decades of changes for such societies in general and their official journal. APPENDIX A. ACHA Presidents, 1970–2015 Year Individual and institution 1970 1971 1972 1973 1974 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 Edward T. Gargan (University of Wisconsin–Madison) David Herlihy (Harvard University) Albert C. Outler (Southern Methodist University) Astrik L. Gabriel, O. Praem. (University of Notre Dame) Eric W. Cochrane (University of Chicago) Robert I. Burns, S.J. (University of California, Los Angeles) Colman Barry, O.S.B. (The Catholic University of America) John A. Lukacs (Chestnut Hill College, Philadelphia) Philip Gleason (University of Notre Dame) Joseph N. Moody (The Catholic University of America) Joseph F. O’Callaghan (Fordham University) Martin E. Marty (University of Chicago) Martin J. Havran (University of Virginia) Robert Brentano (University of California, Berkeley) Paul F. Grendler (University of Toronto) James A. Brundage (University of Kansas) James Hennesey, S.J. (Boston College) Josef L. Altholz (University of Minnesota) Bernard F. Reilly (Villanova University) Annabelle M. Melville (Bridgewater State University) John W. O’Malley, S.J. (Weston School of Theology) Lawrence J. McCaffrey (Loyola University Chicago) Gerald P. Fogarty, S.J. (University of Virginia) Caroline Walker Bynum (Columbia University) Elisabeth Gregorich Gleason (University of San Francisco) Jay P. Dolan (University of Notre Dame) William J. Callahan (University of Toronto) Uta-Renate Blumenthal (The Catholic University of America) David J. O’Brien (College of the Holy Cross) (continued on next page) JOSEPH M. WHITE 871 APPENDIX A. (continued) Year Individual and institution 1999 2000 2001 2002 James D. Tracy (University of Minnesota) Joseph H. Lynch (Ohio State University) Patrick W. Carey (Marquette University) Frederic J. Baumgartner (Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University) Bernard McGinn (University of Chicago) Christopher J. Kauffman (The Catholic University of America) Thomas Kselman (University of Notre Dame) James M. Powell (Syracuse University) Joseph P. Chinnici, O.F.M. (Franciscan School of Theology, Berkeley) Robert L. Bireley, S.J. (Loyola University Chicago) William Chester Jordan (Princeton University) Steven M. Avella (Marquette University) Larissa Juliet Taylor (Colby College) Thomas F. X. Noble (University of Notre Dame) Margaret McGuinness (La Salle University) Daniel Bornstein (Washington University in St. Louis) Angelyn Dries, O.S.F. (Saint Louis University) 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 APPENDIX B. Second Vice-Presidents, 1970–2009 Year Individual and institution 1970 1971 1972 1973 1974 Albert J. Loomie, S.J. (Fordham University) Robert F. McNamara (St. Bernard Seminary, Rochester, NY) Mary Consuela Callaghan, I.H.M. (Immaculata College) John Francis Bannon, S.J. (Saint Louis University) William Hinnebusch, O.P. (Dominican House of Studies, Washington, DC) Gilbert Cahill (State University of New York at Courtland) Leonard E. Boyle, O.P. (Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto) William R. Trimble (Loyola University Chicago) Joan Bland, S.N.D. (Trinity College, Washington, DC) William D. Miller (Marquette University) Lawrence J. McCaffrey (Loyola University Chicago) Samuel J. T. Miller (Boston College) Newman C. Eberhardt, C.M. (St. John Seminary, Camarillo, CA) M. Evangeline Thomas, C.S.J. (Marymount College, Salina, KS) Richard J. Schiefen, C.S.B. (St. Michael’s College, University of Toronto) 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 (continued on next page) 872 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” APPENDIX B. (continued) Year Individual and institution 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 Annabelle M. Melville (Bridgewater State University) Walter D. Gray (Loyola University Chicago) Eileen Rice, O.P. (Barry University) Maurice R. O’Connell (Fordham University) Donald P. Gavin (John Carroll University) Raymond H. Schmandt, Saint Joseph’s University Thomas W. Spalding, C.F.X. (Spalding University) Joseph L. Wieczynski (Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University) Dolores Liptak, R.S.M. (Archival Services, Silver Spring, MD) James A. Brundage (University of Kansas) Bennett D. Hill, O.S.B. (Georgetown University) Francis J. Weber (Archival Center, Archdiocese of Los Angeles) Grace E. Donovan, S.U.S.C. (Stonehill College) Mary Alice Gallin, O.S.U. (College of New Rochelle) John M. Padberg, S.J. (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis) James Muldoon (John Carter Brown Library, Brown University) John W. Witek, S.J. (Georgetown University) Cyprian Davis, O.S.B. (St. Meinrad Archabbey and Seminary) Robert L. Bireley, S.J. (Loyola University Chicago) James K. Farge, C.S.B. (Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto) Mary J. Oates, C.S.J. (Regis College, Weston, MA) Kathleen Neils Conzen (University of Chicago) Sabine McCormack (University of Notre Dame) Ann Taves (University of California, Santa Barbara) Philip Rousseau (The Catholic University of America) 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 APPENDIX C. Recipients of the John Gilmary Shea Prize Year Individual(s) and work 1970 David M. Kennedy, Birth Control in America: The Career of Margaret Sanger Jaroslav Pelikan, The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition John T. Noonan. Power to Dissolve: Lawyers and Marriages in the Courts of the Roman Curia Robert E. Quirk, The Mexican Revolution and the Catholic Church, 1910–1929 Thomas W. Spalding, Martin John Spalding: American Churchman Jay P. Dolan, The Immigrant Church: New York’s Irish and German Catholics, 1815–1865 1971 1972 1973 1974 1975 (continued on next page) JOSEPH M. WHITE 873 APPENDIX C. (continued) Year Individual(s) and work 1976 Emmet Larkin, The Roman Catholic Church and the Creation of the Modern Irish State, 1878–1886 Timothy Tackett, Priest and Parish in Eighteenth-Century France: A Social and Political Study of the Curés in a Diocese of Dauphiné, 1750–1791 Charles W. Jones, St. Nicholas of Myra, Bari and Manhattan Kenneth Meyer Setton, The Papacy and the Levant (1204–1571), Vol. II: The Fiifteenth Century Richard Krautheimer, Rome: Profile of a City, 312–1308 John W. Boyer, Political Radicalism in Late Imperial Vienna: Origins of the Christian Social Movement, 1848–1897 Walter L. Arnstein, Protestant versus Catholic in Mid-Victorian England: Mr. Newdegate and the Nuns Thomas A. Kselman, Miracles and Prophecies in Nineteenth Century France Philip T. Hoffman, Church and Community in the Diocese of Lyon, 1500–1789 Eugene Franklin Rice Jr., Saint Jerome in the Renaissance Robert Anthony Orsi, The Madonna of 115th Street: Faith and Community in Italian Harlem, 1880–1959 James M. Powell, Anatomy of a Crusade, 1213–1221 James A. Brundage, Law, Sex and Christian Society in Medieval Europe Christopher J. Kauffman, gen. ed., Makers of the Catholic Community: The Bicentennial History of the Catholic Church in America 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 Authors or editors of its six volumes: • Karen Kennelly, C.S.J., ed. • Margaret Mary Reher • Dolores Liptak, R.S.M. • Joseph Chinnici, O.F.M. • Gerald R Fogarty, S.J., ed. • David J. O’Brien 1990 1991 1992 1993 1995 American Catholic Women Catholic Intellectual Life in America Immigrants and Their Church Living Stones: The History and Structure of Catholic Spiritual Life in the United States Patterns of Episcopal Leadership Public Catholicism Jeremy Cohen, “Be Fertile and Increase, Fill the Earth and Master It”: The Ancient and Medieval Career of a Biblical Text Cyprian Davis, O.S.B., Black Catholics in America David J. O’Brien, Isaac Hecker: An American Catholic Maureen C. Miller, The Formation of the Medieval Church: Ecclesiastical Change in Verona, 950–1150 Marvin R. O’Connell, Critics on Trial: An Introduction to the Catholic Modernist Crisis (continued on next page) 874 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” APPENDIX C. (continued) Year Individual(s) and work 1996 Brian P. Clarke, Piety and Nationalism: Lay Voluntary Associations and the Creation of an Irish-Catholic Community in Toronto, 1859–1895 John T. McGreevy, Parish Boundaries: The Catholic Encounter with Race in the Twentieth Century Urban North Dauril Alden, The Making of an Enterprise: The Society of Jesus in Portugal, Its Empire, and Beyond, 1540–1750 John M. Howe, Church Reform and Social Change in Eleventh-Century Italy: Dominic of Sora and His Patrons Kathryn Burns, Colonial Habits: Convents and the Spiritual Economy of Cuzco, Peru Brad Gregory, Salvation at Stake: Christian Martyrdom in Early Modern Europe Katherine Jansen, The Making of the Magdalen: Preaching and Popular Devotion in the Later Middle Ages David Burr, Spiritual Franciscans Jay P. Corrin, Catholic Intellectuals and the Challenge of Democracy Michael B. Gross, The War against Catholicism: Liberalism and the Anti-Catholic Imagination in Nineteenth-Century Germany Stephen Schloesser, S.J., Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1939 J. Michael Hayden and Malcolm R. Greenshields, 600 Years of Reform: Bishops and the French Church, 1190–1789 Liam Matthew Brockey, Journey to the East: The Jesuit Mission to China, 1579–1724 Charles R. Gallagher, Vatican Secret Diplomacy: Joseph P. Hurley and Pope Pius XII John Van Engen, Sisters and Brothers of the Common Life: The Devotio Moderna and the World of the Later Middle Ages Neal Pease, Rome’s Most Faithful Daughter: The Catholic Church and Independent Poland, 1914–1939 Ulrich L. Lehner, Enlightened Monks: The German Benedictines, 1740–1803 John Connelly, From Enemy to Brother: The Revolution in Catholic Teaching on the Jews, 1933–1965 Charles Keith, Catholic Vietnam: A Church from Empire to Nation John O’Malley, S.J., Trent: What Happened at the Council 1997 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 JOSEPH M. WHITE 875 APPENDIX D. Howard R. Marraro Award Recipients Year Individual and work 1974 1975 Eric Cochrane, Florence in the Forgotten Centuries, 1527–1800 Silvano Tomasi, Piety and Power: The Role of the Italian Parishes in the New York Metropolitan Area, 1880–1930 not awarded Sarah Rubin Blanshei, Perugia, 1260–1340: Conflict and Change in a Medieval Italian Urban Society Paul F. Grendler, The Roman Inquisition and the Venetian Press, 1540–1605 David R. Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance Rome Richard Krautheimer, Rome: Profile of a City, 312–1308 Felix Gilbert, The Pope, His Banker, and Venice Edward W. Muir, Civil Ritual in Renaissance Venice Randolph Starn, Contrary Commonwealth: The Theme of Exile in Medieval and Renaissance Italy John F. D’Amico, Renaissance Humanism in Papal Rome: Humanists and Churchmen on the Eve of the Reformation David Herlihy and Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, Tuscans and Their Families: A Study of the Florentine Catasto of 1427 Margaret L. King, Venetian Humanism in an Age of Patrician Dominance Gary Ross Mormino, Immigrants on the Hill: Italian-Americans in St. Louis Charles M. Radding, The Origins of Medieval Jurisprudence: Pavia and Bologna, 850–1150 Samuel K. Cohn, Death and Property in Siena, 1205–1800: Strategies for the Afterlife Alan Reinerman, Austria and the Papacy in the Age of Metternich, Vol. 2: Revolution and Reaction, 1830–1838 Robert Charles Davis, The Shipbuilders of the Venetian Arsenal: Workers and Workplace in the Pre-Industrial City Martha Pollak, Turin, 1564–1680: Urban Design, Military Culture, and the Creation of the Absolutist Capital Philip Cannistraro and Brian R. Sullivan, Il Duce’s Other Woman: The Untold Story of Margherita Sarfatti, Benito Mussolini’s Jewish Mistress, and How She Helped Him to Come to Power Paula Findlen, Possessing Nature: Museums, Collecting, and Scientific Culture in Early Modern Italy Elisabeth G. Gleason, Gasparo Contarini: Venice, Rome, and Reform Frederick J. McGinniss, Right-Thinking: Sacred Oratory in CounterReformation Rome Silvana Patriarca, Numbers and Nationhood: Writing Statistics in Nineteenth-Century Italy 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 1994 1995 1996 1997 1997 (continued on next page) 876 “THIS SMALL AND HONORABLE ASSOCIATION” APPENDIX D. (continued) Year Individual and work 1998 John M. Headley, Tommasso Campanella and the Transformation of the World Konrad Eisenbichler, The Boys of the Archangel Raphael: A Youth Confraternity in Florence, 1411–1785 Franco Mormando, The Preacher’s Demons: Bernardino of Siena and the Social Underworld of Early Renaissance Italy Wietse de Boer, The Conquest of the Soul: Confession, Discipline, and Public Order in Counter-Reformation Milan David Burr, Spiritual Franciscans Johanna H. Drell, Kingship and Conquest: Family Strategies in the Principality of Salerno during the Norman Period, 1077–1194 Samantha Kelly, The New Solomon: Robert of Naples (1309–1343) and Fourteenth-Century Kingship Augustine Thompson, O.P., Cities of God: The Religion of Italian Communes, 1125–1325 Lance Gabriel Lazar, Working in the Vineyard of the Lord: Jesuit Confraternities in Early Modern Italy Gerald McKevitt, Brokers of Culture: Italian Jesuits in the American West, 1848–1919 Carol Leroy Lansing, Passion and Order: Restraint of Grief in the Medieval Italian Communes Mark I. Choate, Emigrant Nation: The Making of Italy Abroad Sharon T. Strocchia, Nuns and Nunneries in Renaissance Florence Stefania Tutino, Empire of Souls: Robert Bellarmine and the Christian Commonwealth Anne Jacobson Schutte, By Force and Fear: Taking and Breaking Vows in Early Modern Europe Areli Marina, The Italian Piazza Transformed: Parma in the Communal Age Daniel Stolzenberg, Egyptian Oedipus: Athanasius Kircher and the Secrets of Antiquity 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 APPENDIX E. Peter Guilday Prize, 1972–2014 Year Individual and CHR article title 1972 James Gaffey, “The Changing of the Guard: The Rise of Cardinal O’Connell of Boston” CHR, 59 (1973), 225–44. J. Dean O’Donnell, “Cardinal Charles Lavigerie: The Politics of Getting a Red Hat,” CHR, 63 (1977), 185–203. Virginia W. Leonard, “Education and the Church-State Clash in Argentina, 1954–1955,” CHR, 66 (1980), 34–52. 1976 1978 (continued on next page) JOSEPH M. WHITE 877 APPENDIX E. (continued) Year Individual and CHR article title 1980 Vincent J. McNally, “John Thomas Troy, Archbishop of Dublin, and the Establishment of Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, 1791– 1795,” CHR, 67 (1981), 565–88. Christopher M. Bellitto, “The Early Development of Pierre d’Ailly’s Conciliarism,” CHR, 83 (1997), 217–32. Hui-Hung Chen, “The Human Body as a Universe: Understanding Heaven by Visualization and Sensibility in Jesuit Cartography in China,” CHR, 93 (2007), 517–52. Erik Chaput, “Diversity and Independence in the Educational Marketplace: The Rhode Island Citizens for Educational Freedom and the 1968 Tuition-Grant Debate,” CHR, 95 (2009), 57–78. Seth Meehan, “From Patriotism to Pluralism: How Catholics Initiated the Repeal of the Birth Control Restrictions in Massachusetts,” CHR, 96 (2010), 470–98. Helena Dawes, “The Catholic Church and the Woman Question: Catholic Feminism in Italy in the Early 1900s,” CHR, 97 (2011), 484–526. Scott Fabun, “Catholic Chaplains in the Civil War,” CHR, 99 (2013), 675–702. Anette Lippold, “Sisterly Advice and Eugenic Education: The Katholische Deutsche Frauenbund and German Catholic Marriage Counseling in the 1920s and 1930s,” CHR, 100 (2014), 52–71. 1998 2008 2009 2010 2011 2013 2014 APPENDIX F. John Tracy Ellis Dissertation Award Year Individual, institution, and dissertation titlea 1998 Julia Boss Knapp (Yale University), “Relating New France: Catholic Church and the Project of Cultural Translation, 1610–1760” Jeffrey T. Zalar (Georgetown University), “Knowledge and Nationalism in Imperial Germany: A Cultural History of the Association of St. Charles Borromeo, 1890–1914” James P. Daughton (University of California, Berkeley), “The Civilizing Mission: Missionaries, Colonialists, and French Identity, 1885–1914” Tatyana V. Bakhmetyeva (University of Rochester), “Madama Swetchine, ‘Mother of the Church’: A Case Study of Religion, Identity, and Female Authority in Nineteenth-Century France and Russia” Jana L. Byars (Pennsylvania State University), “Concubines and Concubinage in Early Modern Venice” 1999 2000 2001 2002 (continued on next page) 878 “THIS SMALL AND H ONORABLE ASSOCIATION” APPENDIX F. (continued) Year Individual, institution, and dissertation titlea 2003 Jordan Stanger-Ross (University of Pennsylvania), “The Choreography of Community: Italian Ethnicity in Postwar Toronto and Philadelphia” Janine Larmon Peterson (Indiana University Bloomington), “Contested Sanctity: Disputed Saints, Inquisitors, and Communal Identity in Northern Italy, 1250–1440” Brenda Gardenour (Boston University), “Medicine and Miracle: The Reception of Theory-Rich Medicine in the Hagiography of the Latin West, 13th–14th Centuries” Scott Marr (Boston University), “Urban Encounters and the Religious Divide: Catholic-Protestant Coexistence in Saumur, France, 1589–1665” Kathleen Holscher (Princeton University), “Habits in the Classroom: A Court Case Regarding Catholic Sisters in New Mexico” Steven Turley (University of Wisconsin–Madison), “Franciscan Missions and Eremitic Spirituality” Christine Dunn (Indiana University), “Mary, Martha, Lazarus, and Francis: Condemning the Heresy of the spiritus libertatis in Late Medieval Italy” Bronwen Catherine McShea (Yale University), “Cultivating Empire through Print: The Jesuit Strategy for New France and the Parisian Relations of 1632 to 1673” Kate E. Bush (The Catholic University of America), “Sorelle mie: The Sermons of Caterina Vigri and Franciscan Observant Reform” Shannen Dee Williams (Rutgers University), “Black Nuns and the Struggle to Desegregate Catholic America after World War I” Matthew Cressler (Northwestern University), “Authentically Black and Truly Catholic: African American Catholics in Chicago from Great Migrations to Black Power” Benjamin D. Reed (University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill), “Devotion to St. Philip Neri in Colonial Mexico City” Amanda Scott (Washington University in St. Louis), “The Basque Seroras: Local Religion, Gender, and Power, 1550–1800” Emily Floyd (Tulane University), “The Catholic Devotional Practices of Ordinary Individuals” 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 a Titles reflect the final dissertation titles when such information was available. F O R U M E S S AY ROBIN DARLING YOUNG, IAN WOOD, SUSAN WESSEL, BERNARD MCGINN, J. PATOUT BURNS, AND PETER BROWN The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity. By Peter Brown. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2015). Pp. xix, 262. $24.95. ISBN 978-0-674-96758-8. INTRODUCTION BY ROBIN DARLING YOUNG (THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA) The writings of the earliest followers of Jesus contain vivid, if terse, descriptions of an as-yet unseen world to come; their successors in the stillsmall Christian movement of the early-second century, spreading westward through the Roman world, treasured earlier, Jewish descriptions of the afterlife and continued to elaborate new ideas that were often received through dreams and visions. They frequently held strict views about divine rewards (for the righteous, especially martyrs) and punishments (for the great many wicked). Here Peter Brown shows, in five chapters, how Christian teachings in the Latin-speaking West changed over the course of the centuries—from the mid-second to the late tenth; from Hermas and Tertullian to Julian, bishop of Toledo. Writing in 688, Julian compiled a Prognosticon Futuri Saeculi as a florilegium (Brown calls it a “manual,” p. 4) of earlier teachers’ apparently concordant opinions about the soul’s future after death. But although Julian thought that Christian teachers of his day agreed with the patristic authors, his book inadvertently preserves evidence of deep change—from the early opinion that only some would be saved to the contemporary view that many could be saved with the help of prayers and offerings. This shift in authoritative opinion resulted, Brown wants to argue, from the early idea that the souls of the dead benefited from the prayers of Christians (as did Dinocrates, the brother of St. Perpetua). Yet as the Church grew, it included more and more Christians who were neither thoroughly holy nor completely wicked: the ordinary. Surely the prayers of 879 880 FORUM ESSAY righteous Christians would avail for them? Almsgiving began to be directed their way. Increasingly, some of the massive amounts of wealth that came to the Church as it grew and became a licit religion, both as a result of imperial largesse and the donations of wealthy Christians, could be put to use supporting and encouraging prayers for the dead. Purging the sin that impeded a happy afterlife became easier, too, once the practice of confession had begun to spread outside the Irish-influenced monasteries of Gaul, and sins could be ameliorated in advance of death. Thus from the first chapter, in which Brown discusses the solidarity of early Roman Christians and their intercession for their dead such as in the San Sebastiano catacomb, the book proceeds to describe the adoption of an increasingly detailed idea that the imperiled soul could be ransomed. In the second and third chapters, Brown returns to his persistent object of study, St. Augustine, to watch how Hippo’s bishop—pastor of souls as well as controversialist—judiciously treats questions of the future of the dead, including his strongly Christian, but not perfect, mother. He also contrasts Augustine’s conviction that the Church was a corpus permixtum and his related appreciation of almsgiving with Pelagius’s strict view and consequent insistence on the obligation to Christian perfection, through ascetic renunciation. Chapter 4 turns to Gaul, where in the growing monastic influence of the fifth century Christians both gained a more detailed view of the afterlife and benefited from an increased use of penance. Finally, in the fifth chapter, Brown reaches the hortatory preaching of Gregory, bishop of Tours (d. 594), and his detection of the signs of God’s immanent judgment in the state of the poor. But as the epilogue describes, the future of the Christian view of the soul’s ransom developed significantly in the next century—from the influence of Columbanus and the Celts in France that fostered numerous monastic foundations as a place of intercession for their wealthy founders to the numerous visions of heaven and hell as told by pious monks or nuns—visions that confirmed the need for intercession. The Ransom of the Soul describes the development of the afterlife only in Western Christian thought; but that development, Brown says, was a “revolution” (p. 209), because the ancient conception of the afterlife had changed so thoroughly over five centuries in the West. Neither first-century eschatology nor Christian platonic views had survived in the Christian imaginary. The seventh-century preoccupation with the afterlife of the many—expressed in ritual, prayer, and payment, and observable both in Gaul and in the pages of Julian of Toledo—marks the time “that the ancient world truly died in Western Europe” (p. 211). ROBIN DARLING YOUNG ET AL. 881 COMMENTS OF IAN WOOD (UNIVERSITY OF LEEDS, UNITED KINGDOM) In The Ransom of the Soul Peter Brown returns to questions that have attracted him in the past, adding to and refining his earlier understanding of both the afterlife and of attitudes toward wealth. The result is a complex and fascinating examination of the shift from an ancient view of the cosmos, in which souls inhabited the Milky Way, to an early-medieval perspective dominated by concerns of sin, punishment, and reward. As ever in Brown’s work, one is left with a sense of a continuing process of discovery. In the transition from antiquity to the Middle Ages, once again St. Augustine emerges as a key figure but is seen here in a novel light: the revelation comes in the emphasis on Augustine’s uncertainty about the fate of the soul, coupled with the bishop’s desire to encourage the rich to pursue a life of continuous almsgiving—all this set against his reaction to Pelagius, although what the latter actually thought remains uncertain. Thereafter, Brown revisits the Gallic theologians Salvian, Faustus of Riez, and Caesarius of Arles, going beyond what he argued in “Through the Eye of a Needle”: Wealth, the Fall of Rome and the Making of Christianity in the West, 350–550 AD (Princeton, 2012). We see Salvian and his contemporaries reacting to the fall of the Rhine frontier. Subsequently the political and social changes of the fifth century fade into the background, as the differing opinions of Faustus, Paulinus of Bordeaux, Claudianus Mamertus, and Caesarius are keenly considered. To this picture Brown might have added Avitus of Vienne’s De subitanea paenitentiae, which discusses Faustus’s correspondence with Paulinus (insisting that the author could not have been the bishop of Riez but must have been Faustus the Manichee). In addition, Avitus provides further insight into attitudes toward the dead when he writes to his brother, who had been consumed with guilt for failing to commemorate the anniversary of their sister’s death—the vision of a blood-red dove is one of the most intensely personal statements of the period. Caesarius attracts particular attention, although he may deserve even more. Brown, following Clare Stancliffe, notes Columbanus’s dependence on the bishop of Arles. One might go further: the phrase medicamenta paenitentiae, which is associated with the Irish saint in Jonas of Bobbio’s Vita Columbani, is lifted straight from Caesarius’s sermons. Although Jonas deliberately presents the Irish as marking a break with the past, it would seem Columbanian monasticism was a conduit for Caesarian tradi- 882 FORUM ESSAY tion, which was introduced to an area where the monastic life had been relatively insignificant (although it had not been absent). What is new in Jonas is not so much Irish tradition introduced by Columbanus but rather the exploitation of the Dialogues of Gregory the Great, the first citation of which seems to come in the Vita Columbani. Brown himself places more stress than have previous scholars on the importance of the Gallic Fathers: his case is entirely convincing, but it may be that it can be pushed yet further. If, however, the fifth- and early-sixthcentury Gallo-Roman Church prefigured Columbanian spirituality more than was once thought, that raises further questions about the chronology of the shift from antique to medieval, as Brown makes us aware. COMMENTS OF SUSAN WESSEL (THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA) Peter Brown has invited us to consider the relationship between money and the afterlife. At first glance, the comparison seems irreverent. In the early Christian world, money was associated with—among other things—exorbitant loans, the money changers of the temple, and the tax burden placed on peasants. Yet Brown has in mind something far subtler than the rough notion of simply buying your way into heaven. That sense of entitlement and of diminishing the divine treasures by purchasing them probably comes along in the Middle Ages in the context of simony. Rather, Brown is talking about bringing “together two zones of the imagination that common sense held apart” (p. 31). In connecting these two apparently distinct realms, Brown has shown us a significant way in which the early Christians unsettled oppositions between heaven and earth, body and soul, this life and the next. The point about money in antiquity, though, was that it had little sense of the future. In its origin, money was rooted in counting things that people considered valuable. By the time of late antiquity, it was rooted in the gold standard, which was inherently backward looking. Because the economy connected all the money in the empire with a fixed sum of gold, it had no vision of an unseen future. Money was tethered to the past, and its promises were limited to the predictable motions of a market economy. We should not be surprised that the early Christians connected God with money, because both were involved with rendering an accounting—God with the quality of our deeds, and money with the extent of our possessions. Both were also committed to remembering—God the context and circumstances of our moral life, and money the value of our market transactions. ROBIN DARLING YOUNG ET AL. 883 Brown helps us imagine how the early Christians destabilized this notion of money and its alternate associations with peril and security. They became a new sort of money changer, converting the accumulation of wealth into alms for the poor, and alms for the poor into treasures in heaven. They were no longer limited to the notion of God as accountant and of the future as the inevitable consequence of deeds from the past. Taken together, the early Christians in the West whom Brown has presented to us envisioned the afterlife in colors far more vivid than the sober ledger books of the accountant. One possible reason for the shift may be the view of some early Christians that the distribution of wealth was providentially ordered. Once again, however, the wealthy were privileged. They could become an instrument of piety by making their surplus money and property into a source of charitable donations. While the poor had mainly their interior spiritual life to offer, their poverty established the material conditions under which the divine goodness could be imitated. With this model of giving, alms for the poor were not tallied according to the number of sinful deeds. They were rather a future promise of new wealth to come. COMMENTS OF BERNARD MCGINN (UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO) Peter Brown’s The Ransom of the Soul builds on his “Through the Eye of a Needle,” which examined the role of wealth in the making of Western Christianity. Still, this is not a rehashing of things from the earlier book but a telescopic lens focused on a particular issue—that is, how heaven and earth can be joined by money, specifically by the alms that Christians gave to the Church and to the poor in order to “lay up treasure in heaven” (Mt. 6:20). Brown is at his best when he notes that although today we find this kind of exchange troubling, early Christians did not (see pp. 29, 98, 136–37)— something that leads him to the observation that “[p]erhaps it is we who are strange” (p. 29). Describing his volume as a “why book,” not a “what book,” Brown addresses a wide range of sources between c. 250 and 650 on the question, “What can the living do for the dead?” The answer is “pray and pay,” although how one prayed and paid was, Brown shows, the product of many arguments, as well as sudden shifts in piety, and differed region by region. The first part of the book gives a view of Christian attitudes toward the dead in the second and third centuries, which Brown finds still rooted in the ancient classical view of the universe adapted for Christian purposes. Chapters 2 and 3 shift to North Africa and how the struggle between St. Augustine and Pelagius and his followers shaped new views of almsgiving, burial, and purgation after death. Chapters 4 and 5 move to Gaul and fifthand sixth-century developments, with an epilogue on Columbanus and the 884 FORUM ESSAY growing monastic landscape of northern Europe with its new view of the afterlife evidenced in the early visions of heaven and hell. For more than a half century Brown has been inspiring historians to adopt new ways of looking at the past, not just the late antiquity of his own field but in many times and areas. In the late-nineteenth century the French impressionist artists broke with the traditional Western canons of representation to forge novel ways of picturing the world—shocking to some, but soon popular and influential. Brown’s mode of doing history—also widely imitated, if not always successfully—is similar. The master of the telling phrase often brought over from contemporary culture (e.g., “the Twilight Zone” between heaven and earth; see pp. 18, 105, 108), of metaphors of striking originality (e.g., pp. 161, 186), and of the use of telling incidents to illustrate wider developments such as the reference to the hellfire sermons of Hilary of Arles (p. 131), Brown has perfected a style of history that is illuminating and effective. Of course, there are aspects of Brown’s impressionistic mode of history that can leave one with questions about how complete such an intriguing picture may be. For example, if early Christians were obliged to both pay and pray for the deceased, it seems at times that Brown’s concentration on the “pay” may slight the “pray” dimension. He does, to be sure, consider intercessory prayer, reflect on St. Monica’s burial, and touch on some liturgies for the dead (e.g., pp. 121–22 on Egypt), but one wonders if more attention to the praying aspect of early Christian attitudes toward the dead, especially a fuller account of what we know of liturgies of the dead and the dying, would have enriched and nuanced his fascinating account. COMMENTS OF J. PATOUT BURNS (VANDERBILT UNIVERSITY) This study of the evolution of the Christian imaging of the situation into which humans pass at death is not intended to rival Peter Brown’s related study of wealth, “Through the Eye of a Needle,” in its scope or detail. Although it begins earlier and ends later, it is anchored in the 200-year period covered by that earlier study but focused on the transition from Africa to Gaul. It employs Brown’s familiar and successful method of selecting events and texts through which large social movements can be discerned and even mapped. The range and depth of scholarship that enables the use of such a method is once again on display. Over time, Christians imagined the life after death differently and consequently changed both their preparation for death and means of assisting the dead. Brown locates a fundamental shift caused by St. Augustine’s ROBIN DARLING YOUNG ET AL. 885 emphasis—against the Pelagians—on the constancy of sin during earthly life, the need for repentance before and after death, and the identification of almsgiving as the principal means of expiating for or winning the forgiveness of those many sins. Tertullian’s characterization of the afterlife of the faithful as a period of rest and recreation in secure anticipation of bodily resurrection and welcome into the kingdom of Christ was already challenged by the crisis of reconciling Christians who had sinned against God. The New Prophets urged that repentance must be continued beyond the grave, and forgiveness would be granted only by Christ (Pud. 3.4–5). In dealing with the lapsed after the Decian persecution, Cyprian made the Church’s reconciliation provisional but necessary for gaining a hearing before the tribunal of Christ. He described that judgment, at which the Church—bishops, martyrs, confessors, and faithful—would intercede for its still repenting members (Lap. 17, 36; Ep. 55.20.3, 57.4.3–5.2). Brown contrasts the traditional civic euergetism in which the wealthy sought local glory by lavishing gifts and benefits on their fellow citizens to the Christian quest for a heavenly reward by caring for the poor who were socially and even geographically distant. He might have noted as well that a religious euergetism was practiced more widely as Christians of even middling means contributed to the erection of churches, shrines, and pilgrimage hostels in the hope that “their good works might be written in heaven” (Aug. Serm. Lamb. 5[107A].9; Serm. 356.10). The argument that the Pelagian controversy provided the occasion for Augustine to focus almsgiving on the expiation of sins seems to overlook a broader perspective in his exhortations to the sharing of goods and services among Christians, both living and dead. As God had lavished the riches of the earthly creation on good and evil alike, and as Christ had shed his own blood for sinners, so Christians were to respond by serving Christ in his members and thus be accepted into his kingdom (Psal. 102.12–13; 103.3.10; 146.17). Indeed, Christians should love and do good even to pagans and sinners (Serm. Lamb. 28[164A].1–4). Thus, the commercial metaphors of transferring wealth to heaven were used to demonstrate that Christ, although rich in heaven, continued to be needy on earth and would not be outdone in generosity. Almsgiving, like forgiving one’s neighbor, was an exercise of love—love overwhelming rather than expiating sin (1 Pet. 4:8; Aug. Io. Ep. tr. 5.12–6.1). Such a perspective separated Augustine even further from the Gallic Christianity inspired by Salvian’s attempts to instill terror of a wrathful 886 FORUM ESSAY God, explaining the fall of Carthage by inventing both Christian crimes and Vandal virtues. COMMENTS OF PETER BROWN (PRINCETON UNIVERSITY) My previous book, “Through the Eye of a Needle”: Wealth, the Fall of Rome, and the Making of Christianity in the West, 350–550 AD (Princeton, 2012), offered a social and economic history of the Roman and post-Roman West. By contrast, The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity is an essay in the history of the religious imagination. To write about the afterlife is to write about an invisible world: The undiscovered Country, from whose Borne [from whose frontier] No traveller returns (Shakespeare, Hamlet, act 1, scene 2) The attempts of men and women of past ages to glimpse the contours of that “undiscovered country” are more than usually revealing of their hopes and fears. I chose the theme of wealth because the early Christian use of wealth to bury, to remember, and to intercede for the dead brought the unknown and the known—heaven and earth, soul and money—together in a manner that often grates on the modern sensibility. It challenges us to enter an age very different from our own. To concentrate on wealth is not the only way to approach Christian attitudes to the other world. But the study of wealth concerns actions that had concrete repercussions and that left concrete traces—the great sarcophagi, privileged burial places, and pious foundations of the rich; the humble tombstones and offerings of average Christians. We can see how wealth (even the most modest) allowed human hopes to pass the frontier between life and death by acting, somehow, for the benefit of the dead. Last but not least, I chose a wide chronological frame—from around 250 to around 650 AD. I did this so as to break down the compartments that usually interrupt the continuous flow of Christian history. Nothing is more hurtful to the study of the Christian imagination than such compartments. Nobody told contemporaries that, with St. Augustine, the Patristic Age had ended and that, with Salvian and Gregory of Tours, the Middle Ages had begun. Yet they are often studied by two different groups of scholars, as if they belonged to two different worlds. In fact, Gregory’s commitment to notions of penance and the last days linked the ROBIN DARLING YOUNG ET AL. 887 Tours of Gregory to the Hippo of Augustine—like the long, low span of a bridge that passed over many apparent fissures in the social and political world of Gaul. Indeed, I found that changes in the religious imagination do not necessarily march in lockstep with the changes privileged by conventional narratives of the period. To take one example only: Fear of hell and of the demons did not appear at the time of the barbarian invasions—they predated these invasions by many generations. There are no clear breaks and convenient stop-offs in the long and intricate dialogue of Western Christians with the undiscovered country of the dead. Hence I am particularly grateful for the comments that Robin Darling Young has attached to her own clear summary of my book. They add other dimensions to the story. I agree with J. Patout Burns that the notion of solidarity with the poor through pious works always ran alongside the more austerely “vertical” notions of expiation for sins. Indeed, a lady at the shrine of St. Martin in Tours had to be cured by the saint: she had strained her shoulder mixing wine in such large quantities for the poor in the courtyard outside Martin’s tomb! This was, as Burns notes, “love overwhelming rather than expiating sin.” Bernard McGinn points out that Christians were not only encouraged to “pay” in connection with their dead. They also learned to “pray.” My choice of wealth as the theme through which to approach Christian practices was not intended to deny the importance of prayer. Indeed, I would welcome further study of the way in which liturgies of the dead helped to stabilize images of the other world. I am particularly grateful to Ian Wood for the touching story of the failure of the brother of Avitus of Vienne to mark the anniversary of his sister’s death. The vision of the blood-red dove gives a hint of the weight of grief that seemingly routine observances had to bear. We would not have guessed this weight from the cool phrases of the Latin epitaphs patronized by Avitus and his friends. I am also glad to be reminded that Columbanus, far from being an exotic “harbinger of the Middle Ages,” was connected, even more tenaciously than I had realized, to the piety and penitential practices of fifth-century Provence. Last of all, I particularly appreciated Susan Wessel’s suggestion that the Christian use of wealth somehow conveyed a new attitude to the future. In pagan times, as she notes, “[m]oney was tethered to the past.” 888 FORUM ESSAY Now Christian gifts for the future of the soul hinted at a future for Christian wealth on earth. Linked to the fate of souls, the wealth of the Church was expected to endure and to increase. Altogether, beside studies of the afterlife and of the end of time, we need a study of Christian views on the immediate future of the Church on earth. By the end of the sixth century, a new confidence was at hand. Gregory of Tours deliberately ensured that his works would be preserved intact in the library of Tours. They were useful for a future that he himself could envision. He even ended his Histories by not ending them. Others with similar goals would take over from him. The further growth of the kingdom of God in Gaul still lay ahead. (See Helmut Reimitz, History, Frankish Identity and the Framing of Western Ethnicity, 550–850 [Cambridge, UK, 2015], p. 130.) Books in the bishop’s library and wealth in the bishop’s treasure house—along with innumerable pious foundations— were solid stepping stones toward a future planned for the here and now. Paradoxically, it was through their ruminations on the other world that Christians of the early Middle Ages came to feel that, at last, their feet were planted in this world. Book Reviews GENERAL AND MISCELLANEOUS The Devil Wins: A History of Lying from the Garden of Eden to the Enlightenment. By Dallas G. Denery II. (Princeton: Princeton University Press. 2015. Pp. xiv, 331 $29.95. ISBN 978-0-691-16321-5.) The devil is the original great deceiver, and here he gets top billing in the title of a book that is only tangential to him. Nor is the book a history of the lies that have been told from the beginning (which would be impossible: only God knows), but rather a history of the ideas about lying. This is a splendid book. Dallas G. Denery II has a wide grasp of recent works as well as deep and critical knowledge of scores of theories about lying from the Old Testament through the Enlightenment. It is also original as the first successful attempt at a full history of the subject. The book centers on the question “Is it ever acceptable to lie?” and explores in detail the views of many theologians, philosophers, political theorists, and other writers. The author’s ability to understand and critique these ideas is subtle and discerning. He realizes that ideas have consequences in themselves while always showing their social context. Writing about broad swathes of the history of ideas makes one choose between a chronological or topical organization, and a compromise is always necessary. The author opts for the more topical. In the first chapter he treats the supernatural origins of lying from the Old Testament to Martin Luther and John Calvin. The second chapter deals with the question of whether God can lie and why he might do so. The third chapter centers on St. Augustine and on subsequent Christian interpretations. This may be the most important chapter, as it shows how later Christian writers modified Augustine’s absolute prohibition on prevarication, eventually to the point of casuistry. The fourth examines “courtiers”—that is, political theorists from John of Salisbury through Christine de Pisan to the Enlightenment. The fifth, on “women,” has a different angle from that of the other chapters: it is much less about women’s concepts of lying than about misogynist blaming of women for lies. In the important conclusion, Denery demonstrates the change from a theological and supernatural attitude toward lies to a secular one, a shift from seeking absolute truth to social (and hence ultimately either relativist or totalitarian) views: “Between Augustine and Rousseau everything seems to have changed” (p. 251). One of the few problems in the author’s work is that in the last paragraphs he 889 890 BOOK REVIEWS attaches himself to the secular, relativist attitude. This is the prevailing academic prejudice, but it ignores two things: many intelligent people still prefer the Christian view; and history shows that every prevailing view, including contemporary secularism, will eventually become outmoded. The best among the many virtues of the book is its successful combination of history and philosophy. What answer can be given to the question “Is it ever permissible to lie?”? Readers could hunt around for whichever approach they like best; or they could make up their own (although they could hardly invent one that has not been thought of before). But either of these options would rest on flimsy bases. The most defensible and firm answer is what this book presents: the historical treatment of the most important answers human thinkers have given to the question over time. The ultimate answer can be provided only by God; short of that, the human answer is what we’ve got, and when we have the full panoply of human answers, we are as close to the truth as we can ever be. The truth about lying is the history of how humans have treated lying. A reservation that both the author and this reviewer understand is that an even fuller answer would involve an examination of attitudes toward lying in other cultures—Chinese, for example, or Arabian. Perhaps some future genius will provide that; meanwhile, Denery’s book is by far the best treatment ever. University of California, Santa Barbara (Emeritus) JEFFREY BURTON RUSSELL Women in Christian Traditions. By Rebecca Moore. [Women in Religions.] (New York: New York University Press. 2015. Pp. x, 209. $17.00 paperback. ISBN 978-1-4798-2175-4.) What a pleasant surprise to find a book on women and Christianity that is not a rant against the evil inherent in this misogynistic religion. Rebecca Moore presents a balanced narrative of women’s well-earned place in the history of Christianity, and a significant place it is indeed. Written with students in mind, it probably will succeed in making the reading list of many college courses. This is a good thing; it may be the best choice now available. It is, nevertheless, far from being the definitive text. It contains some minor errors (e.g., Southern Baptists declaring in 1984 that “women can never be redeemed” [p. 142]), some false conclusions (e.g., Cluniac monasticism “specifically excluded women” [p. 76]), some wildly exaggerated claims (e.g., medieval abbesses “conducted most, if not all” priestly duties [p. 136]), and some radical beliefs presented as orthodox (e.g., Mary was “raped” [p. 39]). Such problematic statements are not numerous but frequent enough to make one wary. On the positive side, Moore deals with Catholic and Protestant differences with ecumenical grace, avoids the hysterics that usually accompany discussion of witch trials, and puts a large dent in the arguments of feminist rejectionists. Her treatment of Eve and of St. Teresa of Ávila and her summary of early-modern Christian feminists are excellent. Overall, the good outweighs the bad. Yet, it leaves the reader unsat- BOOK REVIEWS 891 isfied. This is not necessarily a negative comment on Moore’s work, for a good book provokes reflection and discussion. Moore’s thesis too often morphs from how women contributed to Christianity’s development into how women altered Christianity’s practices and beliefs. Yes, women altered Christian practices, but Moore fails to admit outright that the source of women’s power to shape those practices was the intrinsic principles of Christianity itself. She is not alone; rarely do feminists admit this obvious fact. Rarely do they question why Christian women historically have been able to exercise the extensive authority within their societies (a historical reality documented now by two generations of scholars), whereas women within most other religions have not. Surely they do not mean to imply that Christian women are superior; yet that is their thesis’s logical conclusion. Moore’s failure to state the obvious is particularly disappointing, because she does admit that Christianity grants women spiritual equality and the right “to privileges once reserved to men” (p. 105). Unfortunately, she does not take the next step and extoll the huge debt owed by feminists to Christianity for its contribution to women’s fight for equality. Party-line feminists still write as if the evidence does not exist. Would that students had a text that actually taught them this truth! Second, a thesis that claims that women contributed to the development of a religion’s beliefs is not possible in a revealed religion. Christianity declares that it is revealed, that it has a received body of set doctrines and not a malleable belief system. For its first sixteen centuries Christianity held that its doctrines are immutable and that the Spirit, not individuals, guides our understanding of those doctrines. One is free to accept or reject this claim, as even many Protestant groups do, but we are not free to deny that this was premodern Christianity’s self-definition. Moore implies that from Christianity’s earliest days its doctrine was changed by women; she needs a lot more evidence to prove such a claim. This is not a minor matter. Besides being a central issue in Christian and in women’s history, it is a major bone of contention in today’s culture wars: Is everything subjective and changeable? Central Michigan University PATRICIA RANFT Conflict, Conquest, and Conversion: Two Thousand Years of Christian Missions in the Middle East. By Eleanor H. Tejirian and Reeva Spector Simon. (New York: Columbia University Press. 2012. Pp. xvi, 280. $25.00 paperback. ISBN 9780-231-13865-9.) Recounting the history of Western Christian missions in the Middle East over the last 2000 years is an almost impossible task. The authors of this monograph, Eleanor Tejirian and Reeva Spector Simon, are to be praised for their attempt to do so. In little more than 200 pages, its readers become acquainted with the conflicted history of Western Christian involvement in the region that gave birth to Christianity and nourished its early expansion. The authors focus on the interconnections between mostly institutional missions and political engagements 892 BOOK REVIEWS with the region, teasing out when and how (mostly Western) missions were or were not part of crusading, colonial, imperialist, or postcolonial movements and how missions, once in the region, became an inextricable part of the further life and development of the region, especially via their focus on education and humanitarianism. In many ways, the book reminds one of Kenneth Scott Latourette’s sevenvolume overview The Expansion of Christianity (New York, 1937–45), with its factual emphasis and wish to include the breadth of Christian expansion—this time in one brief volume and restricted to the Middle East. Like Latourette (although without his optimistic outlook), the authors chose to emphasize the relationship among conflict, conquest, and mission: Christianity’s spread in the Middle East more often than not took place in periods of violent and unequal engagement between Europe and the region. However, more so than with Latourette, this leads to a disproportionate attention to the long nineteenth century. It also leads to what seems an overemphasis of the nineteenth-century Protestant American contribution, however important that certainly was. Given the focus on the nineteenth century, Catholic missions after 1800 would have deserved more detailed treatment (perhaps by referencing French, Italian, and German scholarship), as should the Evangelical, “Faith,” and Pentecostal missions of the late-nineteenth and twentieth centuries. That being said, the volume is a valuable introduction to the fascinating and conflicted history of the Christian missions in the Middle East, especially for those with some basic knowledge of Middle Eastern history and religious history more generally. For those wanting to dig deeper, the volume provides a first introduction to the rich scholarly literature on the subject. For all of these periods, but certainly so for the post-1500 period, missionary scholarship has made great strides in the past three decades, taking into account both the advances in the study of the Ottoman Empire (discussions about the so-called “millet-system,” to mention just one important issue relating to the position of Christians and Christian missions), in the study of religion (what was the nature of the exchange between Eastern Christians and Western missionaries of all kinds?), and in understanding the relationship among mission, colonialism, and humanitarianism. It seems a pity that, perhaps with a view toward a general readership, the volume tends to gloss over the sophisticated conceptual and theoretical debates about what so obliquely is called “mission” underlying works such as those of Ussama Makdisi, Paul Sedra, and Heather Sharkey (all referenced in the volume). University of Leiden HELEEN MURRE-VAN DEN BERG Holy War, Martyrdom, and Terror: Christianity, Violence, and the West, ca. 70 C. E. to the Iraq War. By Philippe Buc. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2015. Pp. viii, 445. $49.95. ISBN 978-0-8122-4685-8.) After teaching for two decades at Stanford University, Philippe Buc has taken up a professorship of medieval history at the University of Vienna. He has always BOOK REVIEWS 893 been his own man, often dissenting from the commonplaces of others. In this, his most recent volume, he ranges from the Jewish-Roman war of antiquity to the Iraq war, showing to the American present the role that Christian theology has played in the history of violence. A central goal is explaining how religious ideas of sacrifice and purification have been used to make violence meaningful. A brief preface describes how Buc came to write the book and his debt to Norman Housely, Jean Flori, and Denis Crouzet. This is followed by a long introduction that explains Buc’s object. Buc is quite opposed to some current notions of secularization. It is not that he disagrees that religion has lost its place at the center of culture in many ways, but that he wants to stress that patterns originating in religion continue to shape life. To the extent that Christianity has a linear concept of time, this is only one among several Christian notions, and Buc tries to appropriate these not just from Hans Blumenberg but also from Karl Löwith and Carl Schmitt. Although one can generally find the state of scholarship by following the lead of Buc’s footnotes, it would have been ideal if certain points had been made more sharply. Thus, although Buc refers to the scholarship that places the origins of the Crusades among other contemporary reform movements, detail of the discussion flowing from Jonathan Riley-Smith’s article “Crusading as an Act of Love”1 (which Buc knows) would have been welcome. Chapter I is devoted to “The American Way of War Through the Premodern Looking-Glass” and seeks to show how American wars, aimed especially at “freedom,” are peculiarly Western and deeply indebted to Christian notions. Again, although the bibliography cited could lead one to a good understanding, the discussion of the Gregorian libertas ecclesiae seems inadequately contextualized within, say, Cardinal Humbert’s eleventh-century ideas of right order. Chapter 2, “Christian Exegesis and Violence,” builds on Buc’s earlier publications on the history of biblical commentary and exegesis. It is good to see his continued turning to the thought of Gerard Caspary. Chapter 3 explores the links, real or alleged, among “Madness, Martyrdom, and Terror”—that is, such cultural images as “the mad terrorist” (p. 112). Chapter 4 treats “Martyrdom in the West: Vengeance, Purge, Salvation, and History.” Martyrdom moves history forward. The argument of chapter 5 is that “National Holy War” and “Sectarian Terror” are twins; that “the violence of the polity (be it inward or outward directed) and the violence of terrorist groups mirror one another” (p. 178). In spite of the density of Buc’s bibliography, at several points the reader may wonder why some specific item relevant to the analysis had not been used. One such example is Henry Ansgar Kelly, “The Pardoner’s Voice, Disjunctive Narrative, and Modes of Effemination”2 or Kelly’s publications on St. Joan of Arc. 1. Jonathan Riley-Smith, “Crusading as an Act of Love,” History, 65 (1980), 177–92. 2. Henry Ansgar Kelly, “The Pardoner’s Voice, Disjunctive Narrative, and Modes of Effemination,” in Speaking Images: Essays in Honor of V.A. Kolve, ed. R. F. Yeager and Charlotte C. Morse (Asheville, NC, 2001), pp. 411–44. 894 BOOK REVIEWS Chapter 6 treats “the paradoxical relationship between freedom and constraint” (p. 212). The final chapter considers the bridge in international ethics between premodern and modern. Again, the argument is that the distinction between modern and premodern violence cannot be sustained. A brief “Postface: No Future to That Past?” follows. Here, because holy war, martyrdom, and terror will continue to occur, Buc speculates on the forms they may take. There is a select bibliography and an index. University of Utah GLENN W. OLSEN Notre-Dame de Paris, 1163–2013: Actes du colloque scientifique tenu au Collège des Bernardins, à Paris, du 12 au 15 décembre 2012. Edited by Cédric Giraud. (Turnhout: Brepols. 2014. Pp. 658. €118,49. ISBN 978-2-503-54937-8.) In 2013, 850 years after the foundation stone of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris was laid, a conference celebrating this illustrious church took place in Paris. The book brings together papers by specialists of intellectual and institutional history, social and religious history, liturgy, paleography, musicology, and history of art. Throughout its history, the cathedral was associated with numerous individuals (poets, musicians, theologians, bishops, scholars), institutions (the Augustinian Abbey of Saint-Victor, the Benedictine Abbey of Saint-Denis, the University of Paris), religious orders (Franciscans, Dominicans), and the French monarchy. The book provides readers with various perspectives on these themes, with articles grouped into five main sections. Notwithstanding their different methodologies, disciplines, and priorities—as can be expected in a volume exploring almost a millennium of history—most articles proceed from a thorough examination of primary sources, including a wide variety of service books and archival documents. The book covers two principal subject matters. One group of articles addresses the cathedral in relation to some of its illustrious episcopal and canonical authorities, from Bishop Maurice of Sully—under whose episcopate most of the construction took place in the twelfth century—and Jean Gerson (canon at Notre Dame, theologian, and chancellor of the University of Paris in the early-fifteenth century) to JeanMarie Lustiger (archbishop of Paris from 1981 to 2005). A second group of articles is dedicated to broader themes that cut across centuries, including the frivolities sometimes associated with the Feast of Circumcision (the so-called Feast of Fools), music and liturgy, the relationship between the cathedral and other establishments (the university, the hospital, abbeys and churches), and political history. A closer examination of one of the book’s sections may illustrate the breadth of methodologies and perspectives offered therein. The fourth section of the book (“La cathédrale et la cité de Dieu”) comprises four articles, each dealing with a different aspect of the liturgy at medieval Notre Dame. The section opens with an archaeological excavation in the musical mound that is Notre Dame. Claire Maître sets out to discover archaic musical elements in the chant books of a church that, similarly to many other prominent churches, witnessed numerous changes, reforms, additions, and omissions in all that concerns its musical tradition. An BOOK REVIEWS 895 examination of the antiphons of the ferial office found in a service book copied c. 1300 reveals that eight of them exhibit traits of archaic modality. Moving from monophony to polyphony, Guillaume Gross examines the three- and four-part organa composed for the most solemn feast inscribed in the calendar of Notre Dame. He considers them to be instruments of propaganda in the service of the bishop, and brings to the fore questions of audience and patronage. Remaining in the thirteenth century but moving to Bari, in southern Italy, Maria Gurrado examines some of the service books housed at the archives of the Saint-Nicolas Basilica. The court of Charles I of Anjou (1226–85), the younger brother of Louis IX, adopted the liturgy of the Sainte-Chapelle for the collegiate church of Saint-Nicolas in Bari. In 1296, Charles II (1254–1309), son of Charles of Anjou, officially named the basilica a “Sainte-Chapelle” and endowed it with twenty-three manuscripts that followed the usage of Paris, which thus has relevance to the volume under discussion. Crowning the fourth section of the volume is Jean-Baptiste Lebigue’s article, which brings to light the original Ordo that served for the 1431 coronation of Henri VI of England as king of France at Notre Dame Cathedral, when he was only ten years of age. Lebigue concludes his insightful contribution with a masterful edition of the Ordo. Finally, a detailed catalog of Notre Dame sources exhibited at the Bibliothèque Mazarine in conjunction with the 2013 conference, concludes the book. It provides up-to-date, in-depth analysis of sources, many of them liturgical, which anyone working on Parisian liturgy will find most useful. The Hebrew University of Jerusalem YOSSI MAUREY Walsingham and the English Imagination. By Gary Waller. (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing. 2011. Pp. xii, $99.95. ISBN 978-1-4094-0509-2.) The shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham at Little Walsingham in Norfolk was England’s principal Marian shrine during the later Middle Ages. It was destroyed during the Reformation and re-established as two separate shrines—one Anglican and the other Catholic—during the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. This book describes the history of the shrine, paying particular attention to its status in English religious culture and church history. The first chapter discusses the Pynson Ballad, a fifteenth-century poem that narrates a tale of the shrine’s origin—apparently a vision of the Virgin to a Norman lady, Richeldis, in the eleventh century. In this vision, instructions were given for the building of a copy of the Holy House at Nazareth, where Our Lady lived with the infant Jesus. Waller gives a very good survey of the literature concerning what may be known of any earlier tradition than that recorded here and follows the standard view that the whole narrative is of late origin. Chapter 2 then pursues the book’s main argument. Waller accepts the view that the “official construction” of the Virgin Mary as sexually pure and completely 896 BOOK REVIEWS sinless made her far removed from the condition of ordinary women; but, he contends, there is a certain amount of evidence—not least, from Walsingham’s Protestant detractors—that real-life pilgrims to the shrine probably enjoyed lustful encounters of a kind that would normally have incurred considerable disapproval but were part and parcel of the carnivalesque character of a pilgrimage. Waller contends that, although church officials and theologians wanted to control both women and sexuality, the pilgrims practiced, and continue to practice, a more subversive kind of Christianity, ruled over by the female figure of the Blessed Virgin and characterized by a freer approach to sexual relationships. The next chapter examines the section on Walsingham from Desiderius Erasmus’s Peregrinatio Religionis Ergo (Basle, 1526). Waller points out that the Latin text is gently critical of certain popular beliefs and practices but that it remains faithful to the notion that the Mother of God must be central to Christian practice. The standard English translation, by contrast, turned the work into a far more Protestant tract, drawing out any possibly lascivious implications of the Latin terms used in relation to the Walsingham cult. Chapter 4 considers the poetry and music of Walsingham during the Reformation period, considering such works as William Byrd’s Walsingham Variations (c. 1580s). Waller shows how these works record a great sense of loss after the destruction of the shrine and a continuing sense of religious reverence for Our Lady’s former home there. This chapter is the most valuable part of this book, both for its detail and its sensitivity to the material under discussion. Chapter 5 examines the fortunes of Walsingham during the centuries following the Reformation, again examining poetry that harks back to Walsingham’s earlier days as a center of pilgrimage. Chapter 6 gives a detailed examination of Agnes Strickland’s The Pilgrims of Walsingham (1835). Waller argues that a longing for a past in which a female figure was central to Christian practice infuses these texts, as do the imagined superstitions of the Middle Ages. These romantic imaginings provide the ground for the later Victorian reinvention of the medieval period, including the refounding of the shrine at Walsingham. Chapter 7 considers nineteenth- and twentieth-century literature about Walsingham, and the final chapter gives an impression of Walsingham in the present day. As a survey of literature about Walsingham, this book is extremely valuable (although not complete) and will be a necessary reference work for anyone pursuing further research in this area. However, the work’s principal argument is not entirely convincing. The idea that English Christians have missed a female presence in their religious lives is certainly a plausible one; but the notion that this female presence is tied to sexuality in particular is much less believable. Indeed, it reinforces the association of women with sex that is made by the misogynists whom Waller wishes to oppose. BOOK REVIEWS 897 The book’s final chapter has rather little to say about the present-day Catholic shrine at Walsingham and seems to be based upon experience of a rather distinctively Anglican kind. This arouses the suspicion that Waller has read back into the Middle Ages the well-known flamboyance of Walsingham’s present-day Anglican culture. Waller describes the Catholic Chapel of Reconciliation (which is modeled on the vernacular architecture of North Norfolk) as “austere” (p. 188) and sees it as reflecting the more “Protestant” character of worship since the Second Vatican Council. He quotes a visitor who said, “It is the Anglican shrine that remains a ‘full service Catholic experience”’ (p. 188). Yet a visit to Tridentine liturgies or other devotions, notwithstanding all the polyphony, lace, and incense, is an experience of a certain severity and even austerity. Modern Anglo-Catholicism, like Walsingham, is an invention of the nineteenth century and should not be confused with Catholicism tout court. University of Roehampton SARAH BOSS Ospedali e città nel Regno di Napoli: le Annunziate: istituzioni, archivi, e fonti (secc. XIV–XIX). By Salvatore Marino. [Biblioteca dell’Archivio Storico Italiano, XXXV.] (Florence: Leo S. Olschki Editore. 2014. Pp. xvi, 152. €23,00 paperback. ISBN 978-88-222-6306-3.) This excellent volume brings attention to charitable institutions in the Kingdom of Naples, a place often overlooked in the study of charity and poor relief in late-medieval and Renaissance Italy. Archivist and historian Salvatore Marino does this by focusing on the Real Casa Santa dell’Annunziata in Naples, a hospital (attached to the basilica of Santissima Annunziata Maggiore) that cared for abandoned children and young women in addition to offering other charitable services. Founded in the early-fourteenth century, the Annunziata became a wealthy and powerful institution with a network of additional hospitals, called annunziate, located throughout the kingdom. Although more descriptive than analytical as a whole, Marino’s work effectively highlights royal participation as well as cooperation and tension between local ecclesiastical and lay officials in hospital administration, demonstrating the important role played by the Annunziate in the spiritual, political, and social life of the city and Kingdom of Naples. Marino’s purpose is twofold: to provide an institutional history of the Annunziata as well as a description of archives and documents related to its history. To that end, the book is divided into three parts. The first part reviews the history of the hospital, sorting through various accounts of the institution’s origins, detailing the competition between lay and ecclesiastical powers over hospital administration, and following the expansion of the Annunziata into a network of annunziate across the regno continentale during the early-modern period. Throughout, Marino emphasizes the interest and involvement of Angevin rulers like Queen Joanna II and Aragonese rulers such as King Ferdinand I in promoting, preserving, and protecting the Annunziata as a key charitable and religious institution. The second part situates the archives of the Annunziate in relation to other hospital archives in Italy and details the various collections pertaining to the hos- 898 BOOK REVIEWS pital. In doing so, Marino offers useful comparisons and illustrates one of the challenges associated with researching the Annunziate: unlike other Italian charitable institutions in cities such as Florence, Milan, Siena, or Venice, the records of the Annunziate were not kept in a single archive but instead were dispersed across a variety of archives and collections in Naples and southern Italy. Marino’s talent as an archival specialist shines in this section as he offers a cohesive account of the available documentation, complete with an inventory of the various archives, collections, and locations where these materials can be found today. His focus on archives is continued in the third and final section of the book, which contains transcriptions of ten royal documents (privileges and patents) from the archives of the Annunziata. Spanning 1383 to 1473, these documents serve to demonstrate Marino’s prior emphasis on the interest taken by both Angevin and Aragonese rulers in this important charitable institution. This volume is concise and informative, containing photographs, maps, and illustrations as well as a bibliography and indices of both persons and places. What Marino achieves in this book is both an impressive feat of archival work and a welcome contribution to the history of the Kingdom of Naples and the history of charity. Those interested in comparative studies of charity across the Italian peninsula or the roles that charitable institutions like the Annunziate played in the Kingdom of Naples will find much of use here. Indeed, this volume should prove useful as a resource and starting point for future studies. University of Toronto SARAH LOOSE Médecine et religion: Collaborations, compétitions, conflits (XII e–XX e siècle). Edited by Maria Pia Donato, Luc Berlivet, Sara Cabibbo, Raimondo Michetti, and Marilyn Nicoud. [Collection de l’École Française de Rome, Vol. 476.] (Rome: École Française de Rome. 2013. Pp. 400. €40,00 paperback. ISBN 978-2-7283-0967-2.) Medicine has rarely been separable from religion. Only in parts of the developed world, and only in the last century or so, have religious considerations not impinged much on health-seeking behavior. At the extreme, medicine may become a religion in itself. In some parts of the United States, it is said, health and medicine have attained quasi-cultic status, and the British now find their established church in the tax-funded National Health Service. For most of human history, however, medicine has been not only deeply entangled with, but in some way subordinate to, religious imperatives: questions of health could never be seen in entirely secular terms. Over many years Darrel W. Amundsen and Gary B. Ferngren (often in tandem), among numerous other scholars, have provided an overall typology of how medicine and religion may interrelate and a broad sketch of historical developments, especially in classical antiquity and Christian Europe. Yet to read Ferngren’s recent Medicine and Religion: A Historical Introduction (Baltimore, 2014) is to be reminded how much remains to be done, particularly with respect to modern times as a counter to any simplistic narrative of progressive secularization. BOOK REVIEWS 899 Arguably no major or world religion has had a more fraught or variable relationship to medicine than has Christianity. It is to addressing that complexity over the longue durée in the Catholic Christian world and décloisonner (the editors’ felicitous verb) the various approaches to it that have been tried (medical, religious, social, or cultural history) that the present collection is dedicated. Some of the fruits of two research projects converge, one based in Rome (under editors Cabibbo and Michetti) on sanctity and healing; the second (under Berlivet, Donato, and Nicoud) on the medical professions and medical practice. Both span the Middle Ages and the contemporary world, mainly focused on Europe but with sideways glances at the Middle East and Latin America. The thirteen main contributions are presented in two groups of very unequal size. First come ten “hypotheses” about the main possible relations between medicine and religion given in the collection’s subtitle—collaboration, competition, conflict. Second, there are three interdisciplinary studies involving medicine, anthropology, and sociology. The first group is perhaps too large and its heading too capacious to be helpful. Important and absorbing themes, in fact, traverse both parts. One of them has to do with saints: canonization, the saint’s incorruptible body, and healing miracles. Another involves the Holy See, the Holy Office, medicine, and “biopolitics,” reacting variously to Mesmerism, artificial fertilization, and reproductive rights. A third embraces the religious orders and medicine (including astrology and the prolongation of life), from the Cistercians to the Jesuits and Oratorians. A fourth locates medicine within interfaith dealings, in the crusader states and the Spanish New World. That leaves only two contributions and even these loosely belong together: on demonology in Italian Renaissance medicine and the ending of the witch craze; and on the nineteenth-century Catholic psychologist Agostino Gemelli reacting to experimental psychology and psychoanalysis in reframing the origins of mental illness. A helpful editorial introduction and a historiographical scene-setting by Maria Pia Donato preface this fascinating array of studies. Although medicine and medicalization are mostly left undefined, this volume is an essential contribution to continuing debates about their definition and cultural setting. The emphasis on pursuing what might seem like medieval or earlymodern topics into the nineteenth century and indeed through the pontificate of Pope John Paul II is also extremely welcome. Royal Holloway, University of London PEREGRINE HORDEN Faith and Leadership: The Papacy and the Roman Catholic Church. By Michael P. Riccards. (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, an imprint of Rowman & Littlefield. 2012. Pp. xxii, 614. $110.00. ISBN 978-0-7391-7132-5.) This volume marks the third foray of Michael P. Riccards into papal history. Earlier volumes (Vicars of Christ: Popes, Power and Politics in the Modern World [New York, 1998] and The Papacy and the End of Christendom. The Leadership Crisis in the Church from 1500 to 1850 [Provo, UT, 2002]) sought to portray the role of the papacy in the modern era. With this latest work Riccards attempts the daunting 900 BOOK REVIEWS task of expanding that perspective to the entire gamut of papal history. In his introduction, the author explains that this is not a work of theology, nor of church history, but rather a study, “. . . of the papacy as a management structure resting on a large heterogeneous community of faith. How the popes exercise and have exercised leadership over the complex Roman Catholic Church are central questions of this work” (p. xi). In the introduction the author also sets out some biases—both as a Catholic and as a historian—and some generalities that provide a sense of his approach to the topic. Is he successful at this task? Yes and no. Given the author’s deeper immersion in the scholarship of the modern papacy, Faith and Leadership sometimes has the appearance of being two different works. Much more coverage is given the later papacy (the last ten of the book’s twenty-six chapters cover the papacy only since 1800), and the scholarship and nuance seem much more in-depth in the later portion of the book. For example, the 140-year sweep of the Avignon papacy, the Great Western Schism, and conciliarism (1309– 1449), a time when many historians would argue there was considerable development of and stress on the management style and leadership of the popes, was given barely two pages (75–76, 102). But the four-and-one-half-year reign of Pope John XXIII (1958–63) rated its own thirty-six-page chapter. In the early chapters there also seems to be a reliance on the 1907 Catholic Encyclopedia as found on The New Advent Web site, without any attempt to reference the more recent scholarship in the updated editions of that work from 1967 and 2002. One of the drawbacks of Faith and Leadership is the large number of misspellings as well as stylistic and factual errors found throughout the volume. To cite just a few examples: “Born Lothario Trasimund of Segno in 1160 at Anagi” (p. 72) should read “Born Lothario, son of Trasimund, Count of Segni in 1160 at Anagni.” The northern region of Italy is Lombardy or Lombardia, but not Lombardo (p. 278). Gregory XVI reigned from 1831 to 1846, not 1832 (p. 270). Not every papal document is an encyclical. Pope Pius IX’s Syllabus of Errors (p. 285) and John XXIII’s Veterum Sapientia (p. 466) were not encyclicals. “The aged dean of the sacred college” was Luigi Cardinal Oreglia di Santo Stefano, not “Luigi Oreglia di Santo Cardinal Stefano” (p. 326). The fourth-century pope, Damasus, is incorrectly referred to as “Damascus” on pages 40, 331, and in the index. Twice (on pages 342 and 477) Pope Benedict XV is listed as the archbishop of Genoa. Genoa was his birthplace, but he served as archbishop of Bologna. The Silence of Benedict X on page 352 should read The Silence of Benedict XV. Cardinal Ildebrando Antoniutti was the prefect of the Congregation for “Religious,” not “Religion” (p. 478). “This was the first time that a pope had appeared at a Church council since the Council of Trent” (p. 491) is inaccurate. No sitting pope attended Trent. An editor or reader well versed in the topic could have helped the usefulness of Faith and Leadership. Despite those faults, Faith and Leadership is a useful volume for students of the papacy and modern church history, particularly in its later chapters. The generalities that sometimes mark the early part of the book gave way to some insightful later chapters. In particular, the author’s treatments of Benedict XV, Pius XI, Pius BOOK REVIEWS 901 XII, and Paul VI were very balanced, informative, contextualized, and certainly fulfilled the author’s original intent. Immaculate Conception Seminary Seton Hall University RAYMOND J. KUPKE The Papacy in the Modern World: A Political History. By Frank J. Coppa. (London: Reaktion Books. Distrib. University of Chicago Press. 2014. Pp. 304. $35.00. ISBN 978-1-78023-284-3.) This is a selective history of the papacy from the pontificate of Pius VI before the beginning of the French Revolution to the resignation of Benedict XVI in 2013. Despite the subtitle, it is not only a political history, for “it explores the development and transformation of the papacy not only in the religious realm, but also in the political and diplomatic world, as well as the social arena” (p. 25). Frank J. Coppa discusses each of the popes, highlighting the major controversies and accomplishments of their pontificates. Naturally, in such a short work, much has to be left out. The pontificates of the popes are handled in a workmanlike manner. Coppa obviously feels more comfortable dealing with popes that he has written about before. Giovanni Maria Mastai-Ferretti/Pope Pius IX comes off well, with all of the pros and cons of that stormy papacy, although Coppa does not mention the Mortara affair—a serious matter that polarized non-Catholic opinion against the papacy. Coppa labels the chapter on Achille Ratti/Pius XI “The Crusade of Pius XI Against Anti-Semitism.” Coppa’s hero in previous writings has always been Pius XI, and he takes great pains to absolve him of any antisemitism. But with this emphasis, we get a slanted view of his papacy. All the other problems faced by Pius—the Spanish Civil War, the Mexican revolution, and attacks on the clergy in the Far East—are not mentioned; yet Pius was deeply concerned about the clerical persecutions involved. Continuing the question of antisemitism, Coppa contrasts his hero with Eugenio Pacelli/Pope Pius XII, who was a brake on Pius XI’s tempestuous nature during his service as secretary of state. Although the two differed in their approach to most political problems, Pius XI was certainly his own man, and he spoke out when he wanted to do so. Coppa says, “Ratti did not know how committed Pacelli was to appeasement” [of Nazi Germany] (p. 157). Given the events of the late 1930s, this is difficult to believe. Later, he says, “Pacelli dared not openly challenge the Pope lest he be fired like his mentor” [Cardinal Pietro Gasparri] (p. 159). There are no citations for either statement. Whereas Pope John XXIII and Pope Paul VI receive a sympathetic portrayal, the emphasis for both is on the Second Vatican Council. Coppa handles this well, but he does not mention Humanae Vitae in regard to Paul. In discussing Pope John Paul II, the narrative breaks down into a listing of his encyclicals. Of course, it is 902 BOOK REVIEWS difficult to deal with recent history, especially with so controversial a pope; on the other hand, Coppa handles Pope Benedict XVI particularly well. Some editing would have helped this work. There are too many repetitions and nonsequiturs. On the whole, this is a good introduction to the history of the modern papacy for readers who have a limited knowledge of the institution. JOSÉ M. SÁNCHEZ Santa Fe, NM ANCIENT Guilt by Association: Heresy Catalogues in Early Christianity. By Geoffrey S. Smith. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2015. Pp. xvi, 196. $74.00. ISBN 9780-19-938678-9.) From the second century churchmen have found it necessary to draw up genealogies of heresy, in which each generation ramifies the errors of the last. The aim of this excellent book is to discover how the practice evolved and how the genealogies served their creators. As Smith demonstrates at length (pp. 11–21), there was no true pagan or Jewish antecedent, since the “doxographic” narratives in which one philosopher succeeds another were seldom compiled with polemical intent even when they are probably fictitious. Hairesis in classical Greek is a term denoting one of many contending schools or parties, each of which might be legitimately “chosen”; since Smith ascribes to St. Justin Martyr its first use as “pejorative designation” for a party or sect (p. 59), he seems to assume (correctly) that at Galatians 5:20 it means a tendency to schism. When the term comes to denote an aberrant teaching, no one calls himself a heretic, and one of the earliest catalogs is found in a Coptic text from Nag Hammadi, which perhaps (although Smith contests this) anticipates Epiphanius and Hippolytus in treating the Greek philosophies on all fours with Christian errors (pp. 108–21). On pages 89–94 Smith concludes that Jews were regarded as heretics by Hegesippus; the term hairesis, however, is used only by Eusebius (Church History 4.22), whose excerpts are all that remains of the second-century original; even had the term hairesis occurred in this, it would surely have signified only what it signifies in Josephus when he divides his co-religionists into “sects.” Justin Martyr’s assertion that Pharisees and Sadducees were heretics even to other Jews is plainly a tendentious innovation, as Smith perceives (pp. 103– 08). He argues, more contentiously, that when Justin says, “We have to hand a syntagma, which we can pass on to you” (1Apology 26), he means only that such a document is in use among Christians, not that he is its author (pp. 55–66). Ancient readers understood him otherwise, and the question may after all be of little consequence, as Smith accepts the existence of the Syntagma and believes that it was a template for St. Irenaeus. Comparing the use of the designation rational in ancient medical literature, Smith suggests that gnostic was widely employed as a term of self-description but was invidiously used by Irenaeus as a name for a heterogeneous collection of adver- BOOK REVIEWS 903 saries who would not have acknowledged it as a self-designation (pp. 159–61). Against those who hold that gnostic in Irenaeus means what modern scholars mean by Sethian, Smith objects that the Valentinians also fall under this description in later portions of Adversus Haereses (p. 157). The passages in question are ambiguous, since 3.4.3 and 4.6.3 do not speak of Valentinians, whereas 4.35.1, which couples the Valentinians with reliquos falsi nominis Gnosticos, could be understood to mean either “Valentinians and other so-called Gnostics” or “Valentinians and others, falsely known as Gnostics.” Only the first entails that Valentinians are Gnostics; remembering that our text of Irenaeus (except in book 1) is a Latin translation from Greek by an author of questionable abilities, it is surely best to follow the rule that passages that admit of two constructions should be interpreted in the light of those that admit of only one. It will be clear, then, that this book does not contain the last word on the topics that it addresses; at the same time, few bring so much erudition and lateral thinking to the subject or exhibit such a capacity for picking up the most promising thread in a labyrinth that is littered with false trails. Christ Church, University of Oxford M. J. EDWARDS The Life of Saint Basil the Younger. Critical Edition and Annotated Translation of the Moscow Version. Edited and translated by Denis F. Sullivan, Alice-Mary Talbot, and Stamatina McGrath [Dumbarton Oaks Studies XLV.] (Washington, DC: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. 2014. Pp. xi, 827. $70.00. ISBN 978-088402-397-5.) This volume is the latest in a distinguished series of translations of important Byzantine saints’ lives directed by Alice-Mary Talbot during her long association with Dumbarton Oaks. Readers of the series, and indeed all who study Byzantium, will be grateful that, in this case, Talbot and her collaborators have chosen to accompany the translation with a critical edition of the most complete manuscript version of the text. Previously, in order to read the whole text, one had to assemble three partial editions from difficult-to-access Russian publications from the prerevolutionary period. Yet the text was frequently cited, and its manuscript tradition had been intensively studied, because of the extraordinary interest of its subject. The Life of Saint Basil the Younger is a veritable encyclopedia of Byzantine devotional belief. The main narrative is a model portrait of a Byzantine holy man, who practices solitary asceticism, stands up to tyrannical authority, works miracles, preaches morality, and acts as spiritual adviser to the rich and powerful while remaining totally self-effacing. He is also spiritual father to the narrator, Gregory, and as such arranges for the latter to be granted two extended visions of the afterlife, one instructing him in the fate of the individual soul after death, and the other giving a detailed preview of the Last Judgment and the rewards and punishments that are in store for all sections of humanity at the end of the world. The whole story is made real for the Byzantine reader and very interesting for the modern historian of Byzantium, as it is set in a specific, familiar time and place—Constantinople in the early-tenth century—with copious references to urban topography, major 904 BOOK REVIEWS political figures, and political events. An added bonus for the historian is the fact that so much of the action takes place in the social world of the Byzantine aristocratic household (oikos), both inside and outside Constantinople: the Life pays more attention to domestic slaves and to life on a rural domain (proasteion) than any other work of Byzantine hagiography or indeed of Byzantine literature in general. Does all this historical specificity reflect the historical reality of the saint and the historical identity of the author-narrator, Gregory? Or is it an artifice of literary illusionism that masks the real distance between the author and his subject? Does the appearance of a contemporary, eyewitness account, in fact, conceal the fictional invention of both saint and narrator by an author writing long after the age in which they are supposed to have lived? There are no easy answers to these questions, and the editors, in their thoughtful introduction, do not pretend otherwise, although they tend to give the text the benefit of the doubt. One argument for authenticity, or at least contemporaneity, which they do not make is the author’s partisanship with regard to political issues and figures of the early-tenth century, something that makes little obvious sense in a much later context. On the other hand, they note the discrepancies between the Life’s version of historical events and that contained in the chronicle accounts. They also note the highly constructed nature of the plot, including the didacticism of the narrator’s otherworldly visions, in which the Life strongly resembles a number of other, clearly fictional narratives that have been dated to the late-tenth century. But the dating of these texts and the milieu that produced them are still up for debate. They cannot be used for situating the Life of Saint Basil the Younger, but at least the latter’s relationship to them and other texts can be more effectively studied now that it has been properly edited and translated. PAUL MAGDALINO University of St. Andrews MEDIEVAL Faith, Fiction, and Force in Medieval Baptism Debates. By Marcia L. Colish. (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 370. $69.95. ISBN 978-0-813-226118.) Baptism is not only the initiatory sacrament; it is for Christians of all stripes the indispensable sacrament for salvation—and not only for themselves, but for all of human kind, to whom Jesus commanded his followers to bring the good news and to baptize them. There is, then, a peculiar urgency about baptism that further distinguishes it from the other sacraments. As Marcia Colish argues in this very rich and rewarding book, modern Christian churches, including the Roman Catholic, tend to ignore or downplay the complexity of the historical evolution of this sacrament and especially of the intricate theological issues surrounding it. She rightly seeks to correct such facile assumptions and succeeds brilliantly in doing so. Furthermore, although most of her previous work has been in traditional intellectual history, here she seeks to contextualize the arguments of theologians within the very practical issues in the administration of the sacrament in three large and dis- BOOK REVIEWS 905 tinct areas, each with its own particular story. The achievement generally lives up to the ambition. The reading of the primary sources is close and accurate, and the coverage of the pertinent literature is thorough and up-to-date. Along the way one learns a great deal that is not necessarily expected, such as on the differing approaches of scholars to medieval Judaism (pp. 233–35). Naturally, there are flaws. The alluring alliterative title is in fact somewhat misleading and confusing. “Faith” refers to what is ordinarily known as “baptism by desire” (as the dustjacket in fact states); “fiction” embraces not only those who pretend to come to the font for deceitful purposes, such as theatrical performances of any sort in which baptism is enacted; and “force” here applies to those persons and groups, Jewish and “pagan,” who are compelled to undergo baptism. “Medieval” is also a trifle eccentric, for the period treated ranges from the patristic (especially post-Nicene and Latin) up to the early-fourteenth century. This terminus ad quem is not explained, and one wonders whether Colish makes the habitual assumption of “high medievalists” that late-medieval theology had nothing new to say. Nor is any explanation given for two omissions: baptism by blood (usually equated with martyrdom), although references to it occur on some fifty pages; and the issue of the presumed indelibility of the mark left by baptism on the soul. One might infer this character from the nonrepeatable nature of the rite evidently assumed from the very beginning of Christianity, but then one encounters this curious sentence in the discussion of Charlemagne and the conversion of the Saxons in the last quarter of the eighth century: “The Carolingians may have regarded baptism as an irreversible, once-in-a-lifetime event, a ritual that could not be undone, unlike penance or monastic profession. This distinction was lost on the Saxons” (p. 253). The words “may have” are equivocal but crucial (see also conflicting phrases on pp. 6 and 51) and reflect a more general unease about Colish’s treatment of Charlemagne and her understanding of “force” in the spread of Christianity. Although Charlemagne as a turning point in the subsequent history of forced baptism is important, he embodied the next stage in the gradual adoption of force or pressure once Christianity was becoming the obligatory religion of the Roman Empire, a process in which bishops played a central role. Colish also is insufficiently appreciative of the polytheistic mind-set (whether of the Saxons, the “Normans” [another equivocal term], or the Baltic peoples), for all of whom repudiation of once accepted gods was perfectly logical and did not necessarily involve duplicity. In the end, however, these are disagreements over emphasis and interpretation of but one aspect of what is otherwise a most impressive achievement for which we should be most thankful. University of Delaware LAWRENCE G. DUGGAN Why Can the Dead Do Such Great Things? Saints and Worshippers from the Martyrs to the Reformation. By Robert Bartlett. (Princeton: Princeton University Press. 2013. Pp. xviii, 787. $39.95. ISBN 978-0-691-15913-3.) With this book Robert Bartlett serves up a wondrous synthesis: awesome in its breadth, saturating in its detail, and delightful in its humanity. The question 906 BOOK REVIEWS posed on the spine, “Why can the dead to such great things?”, is a riddle for how medieval people constructed their world. The dead do good things because people ascribed such things to them. Interactions with the special dead were based on the need to set up communal exemplars, to articulate social norms, to inscribe hierarchies and rituals, and to remember ideas and people, among other things. Bartlett offers here a social history of the long Middle Ages through the lens of the history of saints. Indeed, the book does not grapple with theological, philosophical, or phenomenological aspects of religion; rather, Bartlett offers a sociological and anthropological history of the relationship between people and the holy dead in Western Europe between c. 300 and 1500 (with occasional eastward glances during the late-antique and Byzantine periods). Bartlett is not interested in what makes someone a saint, or in saintly qualities or behavior. As he states, “A saint was not a person of a particular type, but a person who was treated in a particular way” (p. 95). The venerations, propitiations, and conversations men and women had with the very special dead, and the ways such interactions changed during the course of the Middle Ages, are what captivate Bartlett and guide his story. The book is divided into two sections. Part I: “Developments” (chapters 1–4) moves chronologically from an overview of the origins of the cult of saints to the Protestant Reformation. Part II: “Dynamics” (chapters 5–14) takes up the rhythms of the cult, addressing days of veneration; the names of saints; and the role of relics, shrines, miracles, pilgrimage, images, literature, doubt, and dissent. In chapter 15 he concludes with a set of reflections that places the medieval cult of saints in relation other religious practices outside the medieval period. The wealth of knowledge here is encyclopedic; as a consequence, the book is perhaps most accessible with particular questions in mind. Its parts are near-perfect synthetic essays about the development of the cult of saints (in the first ninety pages), the growth of liturgical observances and rituals in the West (chapters 6–7), or the textual sources related to saints’ cults (chapter 13). These pieces are ideal for upper-level undergraduates or graduate students, or for those wanting an overview of certain aspects of the practice of cult of saints. Once inside the text, we are treated to characteristic Bartlett writing: captivating staccato observations peppered with reveling, humane, and occasionally very funny anecdotes that brings medieval devotion to life. The saints—the dead—and their devotees were deeply human figures. Cults were carefully constructed, embellished, and then dismantled and thus offer insight into the needs, worries, joys, fears, and material and imaginative constructions of individuals and social groups in the medieval West. Although there is a great deal of new primary evidence exposed afresh, which is a delight to read, because of the sweep of the text much is also synthetic, and some old conclusions are reiterated when it would have been nice to see the author present a fresh take on some well-worn topics, especially after all that he has read to create this book. The arguments that do appear are broad. One learns that the dead could and did do good things because such things often reflected and reinforced power structures and systems of belief and order. One of the central tensions animating the book is the push and pull of BOOK REVIEWS 907 a dyad with which Bartlett has long been concerned: the natural and the supernatural. Because reading the book in full presents a challenge, one does wish that Bartlett would also produce an eloquent companion essay that could offer an argumentative equivalent to this synthetic master work: a lection drawn from this magna historia. Still, this is a book that has a long reach and should hold a place in every medievalist’s library. University of Colorado Boulder ANNE E. LESTER Liturgy and Society in Early Medieval Rome. By John F. Romano. [Church, Faith and Culture in the Medieval West.] (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing. 2014. Pp. xii, 308. $134.96. ISBN 978-1-4094-4393-3.) In an original study John F. Romano says, rightly, that historians have paid too little attention to liturgy, whereas liturgists seldom put their treasures on display for historians. He begins with the travails of Pope Martin I, normally located in the realms of theology and papal-imperial relations. Romano notes the breaking of the apocrisiarius’s altar, the attempt to murder Martin at Communion, and the stripping of the pope’s pallium. Liturgy, Romano says, was the great symbol of unity, and it was precisely that symbol that the emperor sought to break. The book’s thesis is that “liturgy was the social glue that held together the society of early medieval Rome” (p. 6). The strongest chapter in the book is the first, dealing with the papal Mass. Drawing heavily and appropriately on Ordo Romanus I, Romano describes the papal Mass as celebrated in churches all over the city following impressive processions along Rome’s streets. While Rome’s liturgical celebrations shared features with those of other great cities (one thinks of the work of John Baldovin cited by Romano), local developments were organic and original. Particularly interesting are two developments in Romano’s discussion: his characterization of the papal Mass as a “multimedia event” (p. 29) and his demonstration that the participation of the laity was greater than is usually assumed. The papal Mass, he argues persuasively, had social and political dimensions. Romano’s second chapter treats “The Shaping of the Papal Court by Liturgy.” He opens by stating that scholars have neglected the role of the liturgy in shaping the papal court, have been embarrassed by it, or have been critical of it. This is a bit unfair. Once he gets past apologetics, however, Romano has a lot of original things to say. The chapter turns around his assessment of the processions that attended the stational liturgies of the city. Ordo Romanus I provides a detailed portrayal of those liturgies and Romano delves into the text to talk about rank and hierarchy, the differentiation of officialdom, and the participation of the laity. He notes tensions as well: monks are virtually invisible; deacons are more visible than priests; bishops have rather circumscribed roles; women’s presence is negligible despite what is otherwise known about them: they made donations, baked bread for the Eucharist, and some of them at least received Communion from the hand of the pope. But can processions associated with stational liturgies be equated with the 908 BOOK REVIEWS “court” that sat daily in the Lateran precincts managing the burgeoning business of the Roman Church? Chapter 3 argues for “Unifying the City through Liturgy.” Romano says that Rome’s bishops consciously designed a liturgy that expressed unity. Romano focuses on the stational liturgy, but his discussion differentiates Rome in degree but not in kind from other churches and largely repeats what he said already about the unity fostered by the papal Mass. Chapter 4, “Defining a Society through Worship,” concludes, “What emerges from this chapter is that the pope and other members of the clergy sought to map out the boundaries of a new world formed through orthodox Christian liturgy” (p. 168). This is what the popes and their collaborators were doing, but Romano’s arguments are rarely based on liturgical sources. Chapter 5, “Prayer in Roman Society,” draws on sacramentaries (especially the Gregorian) and argues that prayer could deliver both temporal and spiritual benefits. Given that the examples are drawn from all over the Mediterranean world, what is “Roman” here? The vectors of prayer placed by Romano in evidence are strictly vertical—running between the person praying and God—so where is Roman “society”—the horizontal bonds? The book concludes with four appendices. The first (“Rereading Michel Andrieu’s Edition of the First Roman Ordo”) fairly assesses Andrieu’s achievement and notes where issues remain to be resolved. The second constitutes a “New Presentation and Translation of the First Roman Ordo.” The translation is superb. Appendix 3, a brief commentary on the translation, is disappointing in its brevity. Appendix 4 is a very helpful tabular presentation of the papal Mass in Ordo Romanus I. University of Notre Dame THOMAS F. X. NOBLE Clothing the Clergy: Virtue and Power in Medieval Europe, c. 800–1200. By Maureen C. Miller. (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. 2014. Pp. xviii, 286. $39.95 paperback. ISBN 978-0-8014-7943-4.) This wonderfully researched and amply illustrated work plots the emergence of a distinct clerical garb between the ninth and the twelfth century. Weaving together historical descriptions, councils, and ritual admonition with the testimony of material culture, Miller successfully “explores clothing as an expressive language” (p. 9). The ideology behind the clothes provides important insight into the clergy’s aspirational identity. Drawing upon conciliar legislation, papal decrees, and liturgy, chapter 1 traces the emergence of an apparel that both differentiates the clergy from the laity and articulates clerical hierarchy. It also anticipates an important change in emphasis: ninth-century legislators did little more than require clean and appropriate liturgical garb; their twelfth-century counterparts legislated against opulent street-wear, leading to the emergence of the cleric’s familiar cappa clausa. BOOK REVIEWS 909 Chapter 2 examines the increasingly Christological symbolism of the fabrics, colors, and articles of clerical dress in liturgical commentaries. Such symbolism, intended to foster clerical spirituality, was particularly elaborated in periods of reform. Its spiritual implications are apparent in the evolving ordination rites and vesting prayers. The third chapter turns to visual representations and material remains, demonstrating how early ambivalence to clerical ostentation gave way to increasingly sumptuous garments. In the late Carolingian period, this resulted in what Miller terms “the ornate style” (p. 3). Originating in Anglo-Saxon England, this style’s hallmark is the extensive use of embroidery and golden interwoven patterns on sumptuous fabrics. It corresponds to the enhanced governmental role of bishops, asserting equivalency with the rulers with whom they collaborated. Chapter 4 highlights the women responsible for clerical clothing. Miller’s scrupulous examination of surviving garments demonstrates how women’s work with textiles afforded them the opportunity to handle and reset garments that had allegedly belonged to saints: “Such projects would have provided very rare moments of direct access to relics for women who were not even allowed to enter the sanctuary or approach the altar” (pp. 166–67). Tacit knowledge of these garments created an intimacy between these women and the priests for whom these garments were retrofitted, as did messages embroidered in hidden places. The eleventh-century reform would recast the ornate style into an instrument of reform and assertion of ecclesiastical power (chapter 5). Female patronage was, once again, central to achieving these goals. Miller posits that the increased emphasis on vesting prayers would, through a process that cognitive scientists term “enclothed cognition,” enhance the cleric’s consciousness of his sacerdotal function (p. 188). The ornate style also served to differentiate between the various clerical hierarchies. The final chapter articulates how the clergy would use their new ascendancy to promote a concept of good lordship. This effort was, however, undercut by the reinvented ornate style, which brought down a maelstrom of criticism concerning clerical decadence. This is an important book. No other work provides so painstaking and comprehensive an analysis of the evolution of clerical garb and its incumbent ideology. One might quibble with Miller’s tendency to put the most positive constructions on questions of agency and power, however. Although one strength of the book is the inclusion of women, at times the advantages they were described as accruing as purveyors of clerical finery seem exaggerated. Does an embroidered inscription endorsing a given prelate really point to “an important role for women, particularly women of means, in fostering reform” or suggest that “through their gifts of textiles, and other resources, women could decide what kinds of clerical piety and inspiration should be furthered”? (p. 171). The book also (perhaps understandably) tends to present the “power” expressed in clerical ostentation as intrinsic to the exercise of “virtue.” Yet, while it is probable that vesting prayers fostered clerical 910 BOOK REVIEWS piety, this could have been achieved with coarser fabrics more reflective of an apostolic lifestyle. In short, the apparent “shock and awe” of clerical garb could be open to darker constructions. Northwestern University DYAN ELLIOTT The Medieval Salento: Art and Identity in Southern Italy. By Linda Safran. [The Middle Ages Series.] (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2014. Pp. viii, 469. $95.00. ISBN 978-0-8122-4554-7.) The “Art” of the title is essentially that of the works catalogued in the database published on pp. 238–336, which covers 162 sites in the Salento, the southern section of the present-day province of Puglia in the southeast extremity of Italy. The works include mostly incised or painted funerary or dedicatory inscriptions and painted decorations from chapels and churches, in addition to a few other miscellaneous items such as a well-head or capital, a sundial, and an ivory amulet. The works date from the ninth to the fifteenth century, and they are transcribed, described, and illustrated with some small, occasionally difficult to read black-andwhite photographs. A set of twenty color plates also accompanies the text. The concept of “Identity” is more difficult to get a handle on. At certain points, the author adduces modern experience (“Beginning in the 1970’s, local folk music. . .” [p. 11]; the “fate of the soccer squad in Lecce” [p. 209]), including that of herself (“I am, at various and overlapping times. . .” [p. 4]), which dovetails with her professed interest in the lives of ordinary citizens. Yet one wonders to what degree the arts of the medieval cemetery and the church could speak about them. The ecclesiastical context was one of the most regimented visual environments in the Middle Ages, laden with traditions and conventions, which framed, controlled, and even occasionally obliterated the present in the service of agendas set by the elite. Inserting oneself into this structure as an “ordinary” member of society probably meant relinquishing more than expressing. In attempting to grapple with “Identity,” the author considers a number of topics and themes—names, languages, appearance (dress), status, the life cycle, and ritual. But the protean nature of these categories rears its head at almost every turn. For example, although names are professed to be powerful—“among the most essential and universal components of identity” (p. 17)—they are also declared to be “poor indicators of ethnicity” (p. 221). Nor is language “a secure indicator of cultural or ethnic background” (p. 38), which in any case is a sliding scale, “situational and not primordial” (p. 219). The author calls the Salento a contact zone, which befits a territory in close proximity to the Balkans, the eastern Mediterranean, and North Africa. Greek, Latin, and Hebrew are discussed, but Arabic is simply dismissed— “the comprehensibility of these texts was probably nil” (p. 41), and its decorative version of pseudo-Kufic possessed only a “nonverbal” significance. The author disagrees with Marina Falla Castelfranchi’s interpretation of a group of figures in a scene of the Betrayal of Christ as Mongols because the feature on which she based her iden- BOOK REVIEWS 911 tification—the mustache—was never associated with them in the written sources. Yet another physical trait in a scene of St. Catherine disputing with philosophers— namely, the “embarrassingly articulated buttocks” of the philosophers—does not seem to have had a textual warrant either, even though there is no doubt in the author’s mind that it constitutes “the only case of physical exaggeration indicative of Jewish alterity” (p. 218). Even though art is considered by the author as an “index of social status” (p. 91), its currency can be problematic. The timeline for important items of dress to enter the visual record, for instance, could be extremely long: although Jews were required to wear badges in 1215, the feature does not make its appearance in local images until 200 years later. On the other hand, imported objects such as icons are argued to have nothing to contribute to the issue of identity and are excluded from consideration. But why is not what one collects and owns just as expressive of one’s identity as what one has made for oneself? At the beginning of her analysis the author actually uses the term bundle to characterize identity (p. 3), which, in the end, may not be such a bad choice, if one imagines the bundle extremely tightly woven and immensely difficult to pull apart, and requiring some actual finesse to do so. University of California, San Diego WILLIAM TRONZO Bury St Edmunds and the Norman Conquest. Edited by Tom Licence. (Rochester, NY: The Boydell Press, an imprint of Boydell & Brewer. 2014. Pp. xiv, 266. $99.00. ISBN 978-1-84383-931-6.) The abbey of Bury St Edmunds, which grew up around the shrine of the last king of East Anglia, martyred by the Vikings in 869, was one of the most dominant and most wealthy monasteries in England. The essays in this volume commemorate the abbey in the context of the millennial anniversary of the death, in 1014, of the Danish king Swein Forkbeard who, according to legend, was slain by the hand of St. Edmund himself. Twelve essays illuminate the history of the abbey, which dominated East Anglia, in the years around the momentous events of 1066 and the subsequent Norman settlement of England. Bury was distinctive, as, by the Norman Conquest, it had a French abbot: Baldwin, monk of St. Denis and physician to Edward the Confessor. David Bates argues for Baldwin’s importance in building the reputation of Edmund overseas and considers how the martyr-king and his abbey flourished under Norman patronage. Chapters by Thomas Waldman and Sarah Foot explore aspects of what Foot calls “the abbey’s armoury of charters” (p. 31), the former looking at influences from St. Denis, and the latter arguing that Bury’s archive is distinctive both for the number of cartularies that have survived and for the monks’ capacity for copying and recopying texts from the Anglo-Saxon period. Foot shows how these were put to good use, for instance, in the abbey’s resistance to the ambitions of Bishop Herfast of East Anglia to relocate his see to Bury. Elizabeth van Houts draws our attention to the community around the abbey, in particular “the women of Bury St Edmunds” (p. 53), arguing compellingly for the particular circumstances that saw the emergence, by 1086, of a group of nearly thirty 912 BOOK REVIEWS nonnae and poor women in the vicinity of the abbey. Eric Fernie turns to the subject of Bury’s architecture, shedding light on the importance of the transition from Anglo-Saxon to Norman, the relationship between the abbey and the diocese, and the relationship between the church and the town. Central to Bury’s history and identity was the cult of St. Edmund; in two chapters, editor Tom Licence sheds new light on the rewriting of the miracula in the post-Conquest period and their author, Herman the Archdeacon, and the controversies they engendered. Henry Parkes takes us into the realm of liturgy and hagiography. The Passio of Edmund, compiled by Abbo of Fleury at the end of the eleventh century, gave rise both to the visual representations and—the subject of his chapter—to a series of eleventh-century chants for the saint’s feast. It was this liturgy, he argues, that “nourished” (p. 151) the monks’ image of Edmund. Books and manuscripts form the basis of the final four chapters. Teresa Webber explores the formation of the library at Bury, for which the twelfth century was a formative period, and assesses the evidence for the work of the Bury scribes. Close attention is given to the “Bury Gospels” and the “Bury Psalter,” as well as the late-tenth-century bilingual copy of the Rule of St. Benedict that was at Bury by the time of Abbot Leofstan (1042–65). Michael Gullick provides a detailed analysis of an eleventh-century medical manuscript from Bury (BL Sloane 1621), whereas Debby Banham and Véronique Thouroude, respectively, discuss manuscripts and the practice of medicine at Bury in the time of, and after, Abbot Baldwin. These essays together demonstrate the Bury monks’ response to conquest and change, as well as the place of the abbey and its abbots in England and the wider world in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. University of Wales Trinity Saint David Lampeter JANET BURTON The Crusade Indulgence. Spiritual Rewards and the Theology of Crusades, c. 1095– 1216. By Ane L. Bysted. (Boston: Brill. 2015. Pp. 330. $163.00. ISBN 9789-004-28043-4.) This book by Ane Bysted is the first book devoted to the history of the crusade indulgences up to 1216. The chronological choice, as explained by the author (p. 8), is due to the history of crusade indulgences: 1216 is the end of the pontificate of Innocent III (r. 1198–1216), who established the formula of crusade indulgence that persisted up to the sixteenth century. Before Innocent, the formula changed constantly. Geographically, the study is not limited to the crusades to the Holy Land, but also involves other locations such as the Reconquista. Starting with a survey of spiritual rewards of the period prior to the crusades, the book analyzes crusade indulgences and their historical background. Writing about theoretical development of indulgences in general, Bysted demonstrates that as the crusades began, there was still no precise limit between guilt and punishment, between eternal and temporal punishment, and between the parts of earthly individuals and God in temporal punishment (pp. 93–96). Peter Abelard formulated these distinctions, which were accepted by the majority of subsequent theolo- BOOK REVIEWS 913 gians (p. 107). Nor was it determined which absolutions were the prerogatives of the Church (p. 95). Then in the twelfth century, it was specified that the Church can absolve an individual from temporal punishment composed of earthly penance and punishment in purgatory (pp. 23, 154–55). A part of chapter 4 presents a range of interesting reflections on terminology used in papal letters regarding indulgences. The research is based on a statistical study of different formulas in papal correspondence that can be found in the Patrologia Latina Database. It demonstrated that, at the start, there was no certainty about the authority that could give the right to provide crusaders with indulgences; the formulas used for crusade indulgences were not specific and were used for other occasions as well (p. 195); and the formulas of the twelfth century differed and were standardized during Innocent III’s pontificate as “the power of the keys” (pp. 198, 200). Another striking feature is that formulas concerning the remission of sin (usually remissio peccatorum) are much more frequent in papal letters than remission of penances (p. 198). However, it is possible that the formula for remission of sins was a combination of remission of both guilt and penance (p. 133). Still, it should be noted that one interesting and not very clear expression did not merit a discussion in the book: a promise of so-called “increase of eternal salvation as a retribution to the just” (in retributione iustorum salutis eterne pollicemur augmentum) present in papal bulls from Innocent III onward and discussed in Jean Flori’s Prêcher la croisade (Paris, 2012). Chapters 5 and 6 describe the ideological background of the crusade indulgence: which elements of crusade propaganda conveyed the idea that crusaders merited a plenary indulgence and how the slogan of indulgences was presented to the public. All in all, this part of the book treats already well-known ideas about the spiritual status of crusades and crusaders, but there are some curious ideas that did not merit a special study before. Bysted rightly states that the slogan of defense of Eastern Christianity was gradually replaced during the pontificate of Innocent III by other slogans more concentrated on Christ rather than Christianity as a whole (pp. 208, 234). She also is correct in noting that papal bulls never promised a martyr status for crusaders (p. 244). In the end of the book there is a very useful supplement with source quotations from papal documents promising spiritual rewards for crusaders (in Latin). Novosibirsk State University, Russia VALENTIN L. PORTNYKH The Tree: Symbol, Allegory, and Mnemonic Device in Medieval Art and Thought. Edited by Pippa Salonius and Andrea Worm. [International Medieval Research, Vol. 20.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2014. Pp. xvii, 255. €125,00 paperback. ISBN 978-2-503-54839-5) This volume is a collection of nine well-illustrated essays drawn from papers originally delivered at a session of the annual International Medieval Congress held at the University of Leeds in 2008. Their authors, drawn from a younger generation 914 BOOK REVIEWS of scholars active in England, Germany, and Holland, deal in perspicuous fashion with the figure of the tree, whose presence as a metaphoric and structuring device is ubiquitous in the imagery of the high and later Middle Ages. The introduction by the two editors provides an informative conspectus of previous scholarship on various aspects of this many-sided topic. The first paper, by Marie-Pierre Gelin, treats the arboreal construction of the royal genealogy of Christ from the House of David embodied in the form of the Tree of Jesse. Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis, if he did not actually invent the theme, gave public prominence to it for the first time through its inclusion among the stained-glass décor of the choir of his newly rebuilt church—an example widely followed soon thereafter in France and England (pp. 13–34). In the study that follows, Andrea Worm deals with sacred history from Adam to the Incarnation, graphically set forth as an unfolding of genealogy in examples of manuscript illumination, and widely disseminated in Peter of Poitiers’s Compendium historiae in genealogia Christi (pp. 35–67). Marigold Anne Norbye, in the next contribution, takes up the application of the arboreal schema to the display of French royal genealogies (pp. 69–93). Annemieke R. Verboon’s essay on the diagrammatic visualization of medieval concepts of logic in the so-called Tree of Porphyry, inspired by Boethius’s Commentary on the Isagoge and its thirteenth-century Latin translation by Petrus Hispanus, comes next (pp. 95–113), followed by the study of Simone Wittekind of the arboreal imagery in the illustrations of the fourteenth-century copy of the Speculum humanae salvationis from the Austrian abbey of Kremsmünster (pp. 117–42). The last four papers of the collection are devoted to the appearance of the theme on Italian soil. Ute Dercks concerns herself with the iconography of the two Trees of Paradise in Italian Romanesque sculpture (pp. 143–58); Barbara Baert and Liesbet Kusters focus on the function of trees in scenes of the Noli me tangere (pp. 159–86); Ulrike Ilg analyzes the tree as a symbol of Mendicant identity (pp. 187-212); and Pippa Salonius proposes a wide-ranging interpretation of the Tree of Jesse sculpted on the façade of the cathedral of Orvieto (pp. 213–36). In the process of selection of these essays, the editors have sought to assemble a well-rounded book that would adequately inform and “encourage others in their own exploration” of the subject, “leading to further ramifications and growth in the argument” (p. 9). In this endeavor, they have largely succeeded. Overlapping developments or repetition, seemingly unavoidable in these circumstances, have been so far as possible minimized, recurring themes and the accompanying illustrations cross-referenced, and extensive bibliographies appended to the introduction, each of the essays, and the volume as a whole (pp. 243–48). Although the contents of the resulting publication have in this way been enriched and made more accessible, the demanding reader may also note omissions of some significance or topics that might have deserved fuller treatment. Among the former, there is the absence of a discussion of the genealogical diagrams of the Saxon, Ottonian, and Salian dynasties found in manuscripts of Ekkehard of Aura’s continuation of Frutolf of Michelsberg’s eleventh-century Chronicle or, for that matter, of the royal line of the kings of England and their Anglo-Saxon forebears, initially elaborated in the BOOK REVIEWS 915 time of Edward I by Matthew Paris, and later repeatedly updated and widely circulated in roll form. Among the latter, greater emphasis might have been given to the important role in the diffusion of genealogical arbores attributable to the Trees of Consanguinity and Affinity prominently featured in manuscripts of Gratian’s landmark Decretum, which were the object of a still fundamental study by Hermann Schadt (Tübingen, 1982), referenced only in passing (p. 5). Yale University (Emeritus) WALTER CAHN A Fish Out of Water? From Contemplative Solitude to Carthusian Involvement in Pastoral Care and Reform Activity. Edited by Stephen J. Molvarec and Tom Gaens. [Miscellanea Neerlandica, XLI; Studia Cartusiana, 2.] (Leuven: Peeters. 2013. Pp. 289. €49,00 paperback. ISBN 978-90-429-2980-7.) The papers in this volume were presented at the 2008 conference “Late Medieval Spiritual Renewal in the Low Countries Influenced by the Carthusian Order,” which was held at the former charterhouse of Zelem, near Diest, Belgium. Two long essays in English by the editors, dealing with the broad theme of monastic renewal and Carthusian interaction with the world, anchor the volume. They are complemented by seven shorter contributions, four in English and three in Dutch with very extensive English summaries. These seven essays address Jan Ruusbroec’s stay at the Charterhouse of Herne against the background of the condemnation of Meister Eckhart (Rob Faesen, English), interaction between Denys the Carthusian and Franciscan tertiaries (Hildo van Engen, Dutch), Geert Grote’s correspondence with the reform-minded Cistercian abbot of Kamp about the inner spirituality required for reforming laxity regarding private property (Rudolf Th. M. van Dijk, Dutch), possible Carthusian influence on the celebration of the Feast of the Visitation at Tongeren (Pieter Mannaerts, English), Denys the Carthusian and discretio as inner reform (Krijn Pansters, English), a Carthusian role in the dissemination of the cult of Catherine of Siena in the Low Countries (Geert H. M. Claassens, Dutch), and the role of a Carthusian prior chosen by a Dutch curial cardinal to reform hospitals in the Low Countries and beyond (Frans Gooskens, English). Coeditor Stephen Molvarec’s contribution admirably surveys—on the basis of intensive studies of Carthusian texts, monastic archives, and other archives— Carthusian involvement in the ecclesial world from the twelfth century onward, including Carthusians as reform bishops. Molvarec then studies late-medieval “worldly” involvement by means of the French royal Carthusian foundation at Paris, one of the earliest of the many late-medieval charterhouses founded on the edges of large cities. Coeditor Tom Gaens ranges widely and perhaps a bit disjointedly through the controversies of late-medieval reform, beginning with the monastic aspects of the Modern Devotion before considering Carthusian influence on Benedictine reform at Melk-Tegernsee against the background of the Council of Constance (specifically the controversy over abstinence from eating meat) and issues of private property ownership in both monastic and reformist clerical circles in the Low Countries. 916 BOOK REVIEWS Gooskens’s article on hospitals brings to light a Norbertine and Windesheim network behind hospitals of various sorts (one for lepers, another for twelve indigent retirees modeled on Cusanus’s hospital in Cues on the Moselle), noting that the Carthusians were interested in these sorts of institutions as way to reduce the number of donates clamoring to be admitted to charterhouses. Van Dijk shows how Grote’s spiritual insights developed in part during three years spent with the Carthusians at Monnikhuizen contributed to what eventually became a small regional Cistercian reform congregation that drew heavily from former Devotio Moderna communities. Claassens does detective work to trace the Latin and Middle Dutch transmission of the Vita of St. Catherine, since her canonization dossier itself states that Stephen Maconi sent a copy to Ghent at the same time that he dispatched other copies to kings and notables across Europe. (Maconi, the former “scribe” for Catherine, entered a charterhouse in accord with her dying “command” and became Prior-General of the order, 1401–10). Some typographical and syntax blemishes mar the volume (e.g., Elzas [p. 79] and “Carthusians received to all the good works of the Dominican Order” [p. 99]); they most likely arise from the book’s Dutch-English language frontier. Each essay is workmanlike in execution and rich in intrinsically interesting insights. A Fish Out of Water offers a feast for hungrily curious scholars of latemedieval religious life—no red meat here, but plenty of tasty nourishment nonetheless. Loyola University Chicago DENNIS D. MARTIN New Monks in Old Habits: The Formation of the Caulite Monastic Order, 1193–1267. By Phillip C. Adamo. [Studies and Texts, Vol. 189.] (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies. 2014. Pp. xvi, 244. $85.00. ISBN 978-088844-189-8.) Phillip C. Adamo’s New Monks in Old Habits: The Formation of the Caulite Monastic Order, 1193–1267, is the most extensive and most scholarly examination of the Caulite order to date. Throughout his study, Adamo connects the features of Caulite monasticism to the “context of an evolving religious discourse” (p. 4) of monastic reform in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. From the founding of their first monastery at Val-des-Choux in northwest Burgundy in 1193, the Caulites worked to create their own unique monastic practices that, according to Adamo, distinguished the Caulites from their Benedictine, Cistercian, Carthusian, and Franciscan counterparts. New Monks in Old Habits is a monograph on the Caulite order in the traditional sense, focused exclusively on the various facets of the order’s history. The introduction provides a brief but helpful historiography of the scholarship on the Caulites. Chapter 1 introduces the reader to the list of the sources available to scholars study- BOOK REVIEWS 917 ing the order: customaries, charters, cartularies, vidimuses, inventories, seals, funerary reliefs, architecture, and even the “lacunae” in the source record are discussed. In chapters 2 and 3, Adamo pieces together the foundation story of the Caulites, weighing whether or not the founder was one of three men: the Carthusian monk Viard, Duke Hugh III, or Duke Otto III of Burgundy. Carefully considering several sources, including an unpublished Caulite foundation legend written by a seventeenth-century Maurist, Pope Innocent III’s Bull of 1205 approving the forms of Caulite monasticism, and Jacques de Vitry’s Historia occidentalis (c. 1219–21), Adamo expertly nuances the history of the foundation of Val-des-Choux as it has heretofore been written. Adamo moves on to explore the Caulites’ economic and social/political relations in chapter 4, reflecting on how their initial aversion to owning property outright in the twelfth century nevertheless evolved to active property acquisition by the mid-thirteenth century. Chapter 5 maps the locations and benefactors of Caulite houses across Europe and uses photographs, maps, and charts to help explain the political, economic, spiritual, and even crusading impulses that spread Caulite monasticism around France and even as far as Scotland. The strongest chapters (6 and 7) read the Caulite customary against its Cistercian, Carthusian, and Benedictine sources to show how the Caulites were explicitly refining traditional monastic organization and daily ritual to critique other monastic models and to construct their own identity. Chapter 8 then moves on to reconstruct the physical plan at the monastery at Val-des-Choux, relying mainly on textual sources (there has been no major archaeological excavation). Adamo closes the book with an epilogue, where he shifts his tone to narrate a reverie, imagining Viard at the earliest moments of the Caulite foundation. He uses this imaginative story in order to reflect ultimately on the priorities of the Caulite order, its unfortunate decline and fall, and the ways in which historians have reconstructed its history. New Monks in Old Habits is a passionate, articulate, and thorough study of a neglected order of medieval monks. The book is a model case study for graduate students on how to perform research on monastic topics (source issues and lacunae, manuscript difficulties, and essential secondary bibliography are instructively detailed). Although readers may close the book wishing that Adamo had connected this small monastic order to some of the larger topics of the history of monasticism, of France, or of thirteenth-century Europe, historians of twelfth- and thirteenthcentury Christianity would be remiss in ignoring Adamo’s careful reading of the Caulites’ distinctive approach to monastic reform. Brooklyn College, City University of New York LAUREN MANCIA Juan de Segovia and the Fight for Peace: Christians and Muslims in the Fifteenth Century. By Anne Marie Wolf. [History, Languages, and Cultures of the Spanish and Portuguese Worlds.] (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 376. $45.00 paperback. ISBN 978-0-268-04425-1.) A monograph that could resume, complete, and ultimately replace the Franciscan scholar Dario Cabanelas Rodríguez’s ground-breaking dissertation Juan de 918 BOOK REVIEWS Segovia y el problema islámico (Madrid, 1952) has long been awaited. Anne Marie Wolf’s Juan de Segovia and the Fight for Peace fulfills this need. Building on her PhD dissertation (University of Minnesota, 2003), Wolf provides new insights in this book, in particular on Segovia’s use of the Bible and his original call for peace between Christianity and the Islamic world. Here, Wolf carefully follows the theologian’s interest in Islam and the Qur’ān from his years at the University of Salamanca as a student and professor (1407–33) and his service as a leading member of the conciliarist party at the Council of Basel (1433–49) to his exile at the Aiton monastery in Savoy (1450–58). The book consists of an introduction, five chapters, and an epilogue, followed by an appendix of Latin texts. In an accessible way, Wolf succeeds in illustrating the complex nature of Segovia’s interreligious thought, which resulted in a harsh critique of the crusade and his support for intellectual debates, the use of reason, and moral examples as a peaceful means to convert Muslims. The study of Segovia’s biography and literary production is well entwined with relevant events and intellectual movements such as the environments of Salamanca and Basel, the debate on the crusade in Spain, and the Diocese of St. Jean de Maurienne both before and after Segovia’s death (relevant archival documents from Chambéry are examined [pp. 131–33]). Wolf properly stresses the fact that religious patterns rather than secular and humanistic attitudes toward the Orient were at the core of Segovia’s worldview (pp. 131, 179, 187). The theologian’s arguments are proven by excerpts from his writings on Islam such as his university repetitiones, the extensive treatise on peaceful conversion drawn up after the fall of Byzantium (De gladio divini spiritus in corda mittendo Sarracenorum), his letters on Islam written to distinguished European churchmen, and the preface to the trilingual edition of the Qur’ān he promoted alongside ‘Īsā ibn Ğabīr in 1455–56. The author adds two particularly relevant contributions. First, a careful study of Segovia’s teaching in Salamanca that considers the two extant repetitiones (the one held in 1427 deals extensively with the secta Mahumeti) together with a series of documentary proofs from the university Bulario and Cartulario (pp. 39–46). Second, an overview is provided of his intertwined experiences in Basel, where he coped with interconfessional matters (the Hussite heresy, the Greek delegation), and the development of his writings on Islam (pp. 109–14, 127–28). In this regard, Wolf makes coherent use of Segovia’s Historia gestorum generalis synodi Basiliensis (little studied to date) to further explore his interreligious thought (esp. pp. 113– 14, 156–57). During and after the Basel years, indeed, he found a series of Qur’anic copies and drew from his interconfessional and diplomatic commitments to reason through closely intertwined solutions concerning peace, temporary coexistence, and peaceful conversion (pp. 178–79, 188). In such a well-balanced mosaic, scholars may notice a missing tessera: Segovia’s Liber de substancia ecclesie (Aiton, after 1449), which reflects his theological experience in Salamanca and Basel. Since this work’s original theory of the Church reveals an intriguing perspective on salvation history, it is unavoidable when discussing the earthly role of Islam and its spiritual destiny according to Segovia’s vision. This and other research developments might favor- BOOK REVIEWS 919 ably represent an attractive aim for future scholars, as Wolf suggests in concluding the book (p. 231). If the monograph had ended here, one could have simply hailed a brilliant historical work. Yet, the author has added an appendix of Latin texts with English translations that excerpt Segovia’s writings on Islam. However, these transcriptions reveal philological weakness in dealing with sources as well as a failure to use available manuscripts and critical editions. Apart from a series of incorrect uses of Latin words in the monographic section, all three texts in the appendix are problematic. The excerpt from the Repetitio de fide catholica has a number of transcription mistakes that could have been avoided by referencing the transcription by Santiago Madrigal Terrazas (Madrid, 2004). In addition, the excerpt from De gladio divini spiritus (consideratio IV), which had a critical edition prepared by Ulli Roth (Wiesbaden, 2012), and the excerpt from Segovia’s letter to Nicholas of Cusa, which here is transcribed from one manuscript out of five manuscript witnesses, demonstrate improper use of syntax, punctuation, and graphic rules in critically reconstructing the Latin texts. Furthermore, in the monographic section, Wolf does not make use of the edition by José Martínez Gázquez (Mittellateinisches Jahrbuch, 38, [2003], 389–410) of Segovia’s preface to the trilingual edition of the Qur’ān (pp. 187–98), the edition by Werner Krämer (Münster, 1980) of Segovia’s Viae ad convertendum infideles ac fideles in veritate fidei catholicae (p. 56), and the monumental edition of Nicholas of Cusa’s opera omnia (Hamburg, 1932–2010) by the Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften (p. 351). In so doing, the author seems to have avoided facing the thorny, inescapable relationship between history and philology and ignored foundational efforts in this vein. The book’s appendix cannot be considered a trustworthy source for further work on Segovia’s Latin works, nor can the monograph be hailed as an exemplary model of scholars engaging historiography in a global way. Nonetheless, Wolf’s book should be read by all those interested in the Christian understanding of Islam throughout and beyond the Middle Ages. Due to its keen interpretation of Segovia’s life and works, it shall remain at the core of this research field for a long time to come. University of Tübingen DAVIDE SCOTTO Sacred Communities, Shared Devotions: Gender, Material Culture, and Monasticism in Late Medieval Germany. By June L. Mecham. Edited by Alison I. Beach, Constance H. Berman, and Lisa M. Bitel. [Medieval Women: Texts and Contexts, vol. 29.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2014. Pp. xviii, 307. €85,00 paperback. ISBN 978-2-503-54134-1.) All books are intended to be dialogical, communicating between authors and readers and furthering scholarly exchange. This book, however, exceeds expectations in that it incorporates history with art history, church history, literary history, and musicology. An eager intellectual curiosity and hunger to avail herself of everything written within and about late-medieval women’s monasticism appears to 920 BOOK REVIEWS have motivated this researcher. Rather than simply following the well-trodden paths of past scholarship, Mecham explores a wide range of source material traditionally belonging to different disciplines in an attempt to find new answers. The book begins with sad information: In the acknowledgments from 2009, June Mecham anticipates that she will not live to see the book in print and thanks Lisa Bitel, Constance Berman, and Alison Beach for agreeing to shepherd the manuscript through to publication. In a second note, dated 2011, Bitel states that the three editors have attempted to preserve Mecham’s voice. As a reader who consulted the University Microfilms International copy of the dissertation that served as the basis for this book, this reviewer must express appreciation that the author and editors succeeded in transforming a weighty and detailed elaboration into a nuanced and very readable book. Chapter 1 introduces the “heath” convents that are central to Mecham’s work on the “multifaceted piety and devotional practices of religious women.” Justifying this focus on the abundance of visual and textual source material, she hones in on six nunneries: Ebstorf, Lüne, Walsrode, Isenhagen, Medingen, and Wienhausen, all of which flourished on the low flat plane of the Lüneburger Heide during the late Middle Ages. Wienhausen becomes the primary focus—perhaps because of its largely extant architectural complex; its wealth of artistic furnishings, much of which is still in situ; its rich textual sources, some of which are available in published and edited form; and the plenitude of studies undertaken by Horst Appuhn and other German cultural historians. Mecham also draws on comparative material from other women’s foundations in the vicinity and cast her net even wider, when appropriate, to gather comparanda from monasteries as distant as Italy. Introducing the houses, Mecham delves into the individual histories and networks that connected them to noble and patristic families. She likewise acquaints readers with the observant reform movement that occurred between 1470 and 1500, which called for stricter claustration and shunning of personal property to further the contemplative life. Here, Mecham presents her main thesis, which she argues throughout the study: that religious women of the heath carried out their own reform by commissioning, making, and using objects and places. Chapter 2 explores nuns’ performative devotions, centering on the Easter liturgy at Wienhausen. The particulars of these rituals have been the subject of much debate. Mecham proposes that clergy, lay folk, and nuns enacted these rituals together in the nave of the main church. More convincing is her observation that the (women’s) work of anointing Christ’s body—like the nuns’ responsibilities in fashioning textiles—was a devotional act. Chapter 3 addresses the visual arts, pointing to figurines of the infant Christ and considering the famous collection of devotional items recovered from under the floor boards of nuns’ choirs. Chapter 4 explores the financial world of women who negotiated the realms between their vows of poverty and the necessity to provide for their own sustenance. Mecham claims that some nuns actually retained legal BOOK REVIEWS 921 ownership of private property and personal annuities, which they used to support monastic reform. Chapter 5, on nuns’ spaces, explores the anecdote in a chronicle regarding Abbess Katharina von Hoya of Wienhausen, who transformed her own substantial quarters into a chapel, generously endowed it, and provided the situation through which an indulgence was offered, which lured lay donors and thus generated more funds. In the final chapter, Mecham returns to the theme of reform, concluding that women reformed differently than men. Women made and used ritual objects while empathically enacting events. Two observations are repeated throughout the book: Religious women of the heath performed tasks that can be seen as gendered— motherhood, mourning, and needlework; late-medieval north German nuns sought communal identity through active roles in commissioning and making their own objects, enacting their own rituals, functioning as intercessors and to some degree as spiritual advisers for their families outside, as well as in maintaining their own economic autonomy. Although, sadly, Mecham is no longer among us, the words she here contributes to the discourses on women’s monasticism live on. In closing, she challenges those who continue to study nuns to determine whether her findings reflect anomalies or conventions. Arizona State University, Tempe CORINE SCHLEIF Mathematical Theologies: Nicholas of Cusa and the Legacy of Thierry of Chartres. By David Albertson. [Oxford Studies in Historical Theology.] (New York: Oxford University Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 483. $74.00 clothbound. ISBN 9780-19-998973-7.) If his first major publication is any indication of his future career, David Albertson will be one of the key figures in late-medieval philosophy and theology for decades to come. Winner of the 2014 Manfred Lautenschlaeger Award for Theological Promise, Mathematical Theologies reads like the product of a mature scholar. The overall framework of the book is a response to one of the classic narratives of the origins of modernity, what Albertson calls the mathesis narrative— essentially, the thesis that figures like Galileo and Descartes led the transition to modernity when they rejected medieval notions of the cosmos and replaced them with a cosmology rooted in precise mathematics. While granting that one of the marked features of modernity has been the mathematization of reality, Albertson disputes the widely held assumptions that mathematization was “new” in the seventeenth century and that it necessarily required a rejection of theology (i.e., secularization). The proof for his thesis is the deep fusion of mathematics and theology at the core of the work of two significant medieval theologians, Thierry of Chartres and Nicholas of Cusa. Part 1 of the book is an introduction to classical Pythagorean philosophy, a subcurrent in the Platonic tradition, which saw in mathematics both a reflection of and a means to ascend to the one divine source. Despite the fact that 922 BOOK REVIEWS Platonism deeply influenced the whole Christian theological tradition, the major sources of Platonic thought available in the medieval West (Proclus through Pseudo-Dionysius, and Plotinus through St. Augustine) intentionally suppressed the Pythagorean aspects of the tradition. The one exception to this was the quadrivium of Boethius, which preserved a strong mathematical emphasis, but one clearly separated from his theological writings. Part 2 focuses on the twelfth-century figure of Thierry of Chartres. Part of a larger revival of the Boethian tradition that was attempting to reconcile the various branches of Greek philosophy found in his writings, Thierry developed a creative synthesis of Pythagorean mathematics and Christian theology, including ideas about the Trinity as the source of number in the cosmos. Although Thierry was himself respected, his form of Christian Pythagoreanism had little wider impact in the wake of the changes underway in the burgeoning universities, as well as an Augustinian legacy that was suspicious of numerology as a potential rival to the deeper wisdom of the incarnate Logos. It was left to the fifteenth-century reformer and theologian Nicholas of Cusa finally to bridge this divide, which is the focus of part 3. Heavily indebted to the Boethian tradition of Thierry and his commentators for many specific theological formulations as well as the larger assumption that mathematics was the best way to contemplate God, Cusanus’s great achievement was the incorporation of a robust Christology into this mathematical theology. Such a project is already in evidence in Cusanus’s first great work of speculative theology, De docta ignorantia, whose third book is entirely devoted to the Christological question. However, Albertson argues that it is only with his late work, De ludo globi, that Cusanus’s mathematical Christology is fully matured. In this work, the Chalcedonian notion of Christ as the conjunction of opposite natures—divine and human—is articulated in terms of opposing mathematical categories such as a simultaneous center and circumference. As this brief summary makes clear, Albertson’s first book is a major contribution to our understanding of mathematical notions of the cosmos and stands as an important rebuttal to some commonly held assumptions that mathematics and theology are inherently opposed. It is likely to be of great interest to scholars working in the history of philosophy, theology, and cosmology, for whom it is highly recommended. Saint Mary’s College of California DAVID ZACHARIAH FLANAGIN Entering a Clerical Career at the Roman Curia, 1458–1471. Edited by Kirsi Salonen and Jussi Hanska. [Church, Faith and Culture in the Medieval West.] (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing. 2013. Pp. xii, 295. $134.96. ISBN 9781-4094-2839-8.) This work presents a complete investigation of the established procedure to be ordained priest and then enjoy special economic benefits during the pontificates of Pius II (1458–64) and Paul II (1464–71). Not basing their research on narrative sources that usually portray the clerical world as ignorant and inept, the authors BOOK REVIEWS 923 focus their attention on papal documents, produced in particular by two institutions of the Church of Rome: the Apostolic Penitentiary and the Apostolic Chamber. Thanks to in-depth analysis of the sources, it is shown that for the clerical career, the Church of Rome wished to choose men who did not have physical defects, who were reliable in terms of moral qualities, who were well educated, and who had been invested in accordance with canon law. Any exception should have been authorized specifically. The Apostolic Penitentiary is one of the offices of the Papal Curia in charge of granting absolutions and dispensations. Starting from the pontificate of Martin V, it expanded its authority more and more. In this period, referring relevant matters to the Apostolic Penitentiary suggest a desire to enhance one’s career inside the Church. Several requests from the same diocese indicate the intention by the bishop to operate in compliance with legislation and to seek papal dispensations for many of his local candidates, even if such a step was not strictly necessary. Due to the need for priests who could celebrate the sacraments, bishops were often forced to ordain men too young for that role. This is the reason why many applications concern men under age twenty-five. Dispensations for physical defects especially concerned problems with eyes and hands. There were also particular requests for “absolution from being ordained to the priesthood with a false title, or with a falsified dimissory letter” (p. 162). The authors provide case studies, as well as comprehensive and varied examples, quotations of related legislation, and thorough analyses of the data collected. Requests for dispensations came from every part of Christendom, but for de promotis et promovendis the requests came mostly from northern Italy, southern Germany, and what are present-day Benelux countries; these regions had many vacant benefices and a crucial need for priests. As the editors note: … [T]wo petitioners out of three were not yet priests and wanted to be promoted to higher orders and therefore needed a dispensation, either because of a defect or in order to be ordained against the normal ordination practice. One third of the petitioners, in their turn, had already been (in some false way) ordained to the priesthood and therefore needed an absolution and dispensation that would allow them to continue in their orders and offices. (p. 114) Although some papal representative such as legates, nuncios, and collectors could grant dispensations and thus reduce the need to turn to the Penitentiary, many religious and pilgrims arrived in Rome during the spring (especially during the Easter period), intent on fixing their “legal and religious” situation. Sometimes these candidates made the journey to Rome because they could count on a special relationship with an official of the Papal Curia, because their bishop was absent from their diocese, or because they resided outside their home diocese for reasons such as academic study. The second part of the book concerns the ordinations in the Apostolic Chamber during the pontificate of Paul II, and the archival series investigated is repre- 924 BOOK REVIEWS sented by Libri formatarum. There are two categories in this source: “the people who were ordained during the six actual ordination days and those who were ordained outside these days (extra tempora jure statuta)” (p. 168). Official ordinations had to take place in a sacred space (usually a church) and had to be celebrated by one of the eight bishops approved by the Apostolic Chamber and in presence of Chamber notaries. These ordinations affected the highest levels of clergy. France was the country with the largest number of candidates, followed by Italy and Germany; among the dioceses, Liège had the largest number of candidates. Those who aspired to be ordained in Rome were men who worked in the Curia; familiares of the pope, cardinals, and curialists; representatives of various powers; and private proctors. It is important to note that in the Libri formatarum, not all ordinations are recorded; in particular, it is not possible to retrieve information about those made by the Vicarius Urbis (regarding most of the Romans) and illegal ones. ANTONELLA MAZZON Università La Sapienza EARLY MODERN EUROPEAN Creating Magnificence in Renaissance Florence. By Peter Howard. [Essays and Studies, 29.] (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies. 2012. Pp. 173. $19.00 paperback. ISBN 978-0-7727-2126-6.) For those interested in the history of magnificence in Renaissance Florence and the self-fashioning of the ruling classes, A. D. Fraser Jenkins’s 1970 article on Cosimo de’ Medici and the theory of magnificence has long been the standard in the field. This research has been built upon by others such as Louis Green in relation to the Visconti, Patricia Rubin in relation to Lorenzo de’ Medici, and Guido Guerzoni in relation to magnificent Renaissance lifestyles more generally. But it has had no major rearticulation. Peter Howard’s magnificent little book is therefore a really welcome contribution that re-envisions Fraser Jenkins’s original arguments. What we have here is a placing of a work (On the Magnificence of Cosimo de’ Medici of Florence against His Detractors, produced by monastic prior Timoteo Maffei) not into the broader classical secular understandings of the term magnificence, but within its appropriate theological framework as presented through popular preaching. Howard argues that the ideas of magnificence as a moral virtue were promoted and promulgated far earlier than previously supposed. For Howard, it is vital to look at the idea of magnificence not as an isolated, pre-existing phenomenon in a disembodied history of ideas, but as a living concept manifested in the piazzas of the city. Few have as detailed an understanding of the important role of preachers in the life of Renaissance Florence as Howard. His articulation of the idea of “local theologies” is a compelling one, and the way in which the theologians of Florence articulated their own local theology relating to the ruling body and the virtue of magnificence is invaluable. In particular, however, Howard is the foremost expert on the life BOOK REVIEWS 925 and writings of Antonino Pierozzi (archbishop and later St. Antoninus). Placing Maffei’s well-known text within a broader trajectory of other theologians and their sermons in the city puts it into a far more interesting and compelling setting. Howard has long argued for the centrality of the preacher and his sermons in the culture of the Renaissance, and here again he demonstrates the way in which preachers were central in the forging and development of a public ethos, now largely studied in a secular realm. Maffei’s oft-cited work becomes, in Howard’s revisioning, a later articulation and expression of arguments already made by theologians over a century earlier and preached in detail by Antoninus several decades earlier. Over six chapters, Howard traces the development and origins of the local Florentine theology of magnificence as articulated in the 1420s to 1450 and then provides a final reflection on its disapprobation by preachers such as Giovanni Caroli and Girolamo Savonarola by the 1480s and 1490s. These chapters function as a perfect introduction to three texts transcribed in their original Latin, and translated into English for the first time, in three appendices. These are a sermon of Antoninus, an extract from his Summa where he discusses magnificence, and finally the complete text of Maffei’s defense of magnificence. The latter, in particular, is invaluable and fascinating to read in its entirety. This is more than a work on the idea of magnificence itself in Renaissance Florence. It is an accomplished study of the ways in which ideas were transmitted and mediated from earlier theologians into new contexts. The book is therefore bound to be of use to those interested in orality and the printed word, translation studies, theology, cultural history, and the dynamism of ideas and their expression. It is written with clarity and is recommended wholeheartedly. University of Melbourne CATHERINE KOVESI Botschafterzeremoniell am Papsthof der Renaissance. Der Tractatus de oratoribus des Paris de Grassi, Teil 1 und 2. Edited with commentary by Philipp Stenzig. [Tradition—Reform—Innovation: Studien zur Modernität des Mittelalters, Band 17.] (Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. 2013. Pp. 716, 717–1372. $182.95. ISBN 978-3-631-62611-5.) Studies of papal ceremonies flourished during the 1970s and 1980s with Marc Dykmans and Bernhard Schimmelpfennig as the foremost scholars in the field. In recent years a group of scholars based at the University of Münster has taken up the papal ceremonial of the Renaissance and dedicated a series of publications to it. Philipp Stenzig’s monumental contribution has grown out of a Münster doctoral thesis supervised by Nikolaus Staubach, a leading figure among these researchers. When it is compared to the older investigations, differences of approach soon become obvious. Whereas Dykmans and Schimmelpfennig had been much involved with codicological and philological studies that aimed at making available the relevant texts and tried to shed light on the precise circumstances of their creation, these younger authors, seeking the historical meaning of individual ceremonial elements, prefer to interpret what was going on. 926 BOOK REVIEWS As was to be expected, the prolific figure of Paris de Grassis—or Paride Grassi, papal master of ceremonies (in office 1504–28)—attracted new scholarly attention. Dykmans planned an edition of De Grassis’s ceremonial diary, but this project was not brought to completion. Twenty-five years later, such a publication would be no less desirable than it was in Dykmans’s time. Beyond writing his Diarium and a general directory of papal liturgy and ceremonial, a Ceremoniale Romane curie, De Grassis’s name is connected with a new literary genre—the tractatus— dedicated to specific aspects of the Roman ceremonial. Seven such treatises, which the author considered in the tradition of the professional writing practiced by Vitruvius and other scholars from classical antiquity, have survived. Stenzig’s focus is one on the reception of foreign oratores at the papal court. De Grassis wrote it down in a first draft by 1508/09, adding material in subsequent years. As Stenzig points out, the master of ceremonies did not intend to create a new type of ceremonial but rather a definite literary description of it, which could be used later as a manual. Since his own experience is present throughout these writings, and he continuously refers to ceremonial events he witnessed, his treatises, too, adopt traits of the ceremonial diary, thus rendering the boundaries of professional writing rather fluid. These oratores should not be confused with the ambassadors in residence, although the latter could be referred to as oratores, procuratores, or ambassiatores. Instead, it was their task to declare the obedience of their respective senders, usually secular rulers from all over Europe or Italian city republics, in front of the newly elected pope. Due to this rhetorical performance they were called orators. In essence, their office ended with this declaration, although their presence in the papal chapel and in public consistories was tolerated thereafter. The number of orators representing an individual sovereign could vary from one to four, seven, or even a dozen. Although the ceremonial receptions of the oratores in Rome implied the recognition of the sovereignty of the ruler who had sent them, the honors displayed in their regard by the officials of the papal court changed according to the status of the sender, not to that of his envoys. The ceremonial under discussion embraced two distinct parts: first the obviatio—that is, the reception of the delegation through the familiares of the cardinals and of the pope outside the city walls. Here, De Grassis focuses on questions of who would wait where and how this cavalcade was to be composed hierarchically. This procession would lead the newly arrived to their dwelling place in the city. A few days later they proceeded from here to the Consistorium publicum in the Vatican palace where they would present their credentials, deliver their speeches, and pay homage to the pope. Only as a consequence of this second part of the ceremonial were they assigned their seats in the consistorium, which accorded to the basic rule digniores sint propiores pape. Their performance, as well as their later presence during the consistorium and the papal chapel, was intended to display an ideal order of the Christian world through both its ecclesiastic and secular representatives, with the pope at its center. This order, however, was by no means void of controversies concerning precedence, and the intention to establish the unshakable rules of the hierarchy envisaged was one of the reasons that made De Grassis write his treatise. No ceremonial was provided for oratores upon leaving the city. BOOK REVIEWS 927 In Stenzig’s edition De Grassis’s De oratoribus covers some 150 pages. What is the purpose of the other 1200 pages? Applying an approach that, some time ago, was proposed by this reviewer for another of De Grassis’s dissertations, his introduction gives a detailed history of the ceremonial under discussion. Although the obviatio of ambassadors was not introduced prior to the Great Schism, the festive welcome has its roots in the ingressus provided for the rulers themselves and for the newly elected cardinals. On those occasions, however, the cardinals themselves took part. The fact that upon the arrival of the orators they sent their familiares leaves no doubt that orators and ambassadors were only of second-rank status. Beyond reviewing De Grassis’s career, his writings, and the manuscripts of the treatise here published, Stenzig dedicates more than 500 pages of commentary to the latter. This includes a detailed German summary of the master’s descriptions, an analysis of the sources he used, and an extensive discussion of how De Grassis’s indications are confirmed or contradicted by his own and his predecessors’ ceremonial diaries or also by sources from outside the Roman Curia, which are all quoted in full length. Likewise, the diplomatic and political context and prehistory of the ceremonial events referred to are explained in greatest detail, in particular when they gave rise to controversy. Neither do the historical personalities and the curial offices concerned pass unregarded. Thus, the author enables us to understand completely De Grassis’s arguments and their relevance for the diplomatic performances of his day. Despite the attention paid by the commentary to the protagonists involved, Stenzig adds an independent prosopographic part of more than 300 pages gathering biographical sketches of every character referred to in the documentation on the orators’ ceremonial from 1483 to 1512, a work he claims to have started when the Dizionario biografico degli Italiani was not yet available to him. Although several of the relevant personalities are certainly treated more fully in the Dizionario, Stenzig’s biographic collection might be useful regarding people who were not of Italian origin. A final chapter is dedicated to the orationes oboedientiae that were delivered in the Consistorium publicum. Many of them were printed, and Stenzig’s list of fortyfive of these speeches (1484–1514) is extremely welcome. Fifteen of them are printed in full, although the author does not indicate why he gives preference to the particular orations chosen. The commentary here, being far from exhaustive, appears rather haphazard, so that the impression of the speeches being included as an afterthought can hardly be avoided. Some questions are raised by the book’s general structure. One wonders whether anybody will ever read it from cover to cover. Probably the author would have done himself and those interested a better service had he published some of the excessive excurses included in his commentary as separate articles. This, for instance, could be suggested for his digressions on the Osmanian prince Čem, 928 BOOK REVIEWS who stayed in Rome from 1489 to 1494 (chapter 39), or on the Ethiopian legation of 1481 (chapter 40), but also for his reflections on rose and sword as papal gifts (chapter 75), or his analysis of Pope Leo X’s relationship with the Maronite Church (chapter 85). Some readers might also ask whether the prosopographic section, which comes close to an independent manual, was really necessary. This reviewer would rather have preferred to see further speeches of obedience published and analyzed in more detail. Bringing in a view of the papacy from outside and trying to combine their image of the ideal pope with that of their respective rulers, they all have a remarkably secular ring and provide a noteworthy addition to the orations presented in the papal chapel and famously discussed in John O’Malley’s classic Praise and Blame in Renaissance Rome (Durham, NC, 1979). One would like to learn more about these speeches. Had they to be coordinated with the senders of the orators? In these texts references to classical antiquity abound. Such references do not occur in De Grassis’s treatise itself, a silence that distinguishes De oratoribus from other writings of his, like the dissertation on curial burial, where the author tries hard to relate every aspect of the ceremonial to—mainly fictitious—ancient roots. Such genealogical lines certainly offered themselves also when discussing the ceremonies that involved the orators—witness the obviatio, the honorable cavalcade, the baldachino carried over the pope upon entering the consistorium, or the proskynesis performed by the representatives of the rulers. (A subject index including such concepts would have made the book more useful.) Although Stenzig, too, marks the differences in rhetoric among De Grassis’s tracts, he does not explain them. What seems striking, however, is that only a few years after his period in office had ended the very continuity of imperial pagan Rome with that of medieval and contemporary papal Rome became one of the main targets of Protestant polemics. All in all, however, we are indebted to the author for treating his argument in a model approach of patience and accuracy. Universität Marburg INGO HERKLOTZ Coloniality, Religion, and the Law in the Early Iberian World. Edited by Santa Arias and Raúl Marrero-Fente. [Hispanic Issues, Vol. 40.] (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press. 2014. Pp. xxiv, 280. $34.95 paperback. ISBN 978-0-82651957-3.) In collecting these essays, editors Santa Arias and Raúl Marrero-Fente seek to broaden and deepen our understanding of the roles played by the Catholic Church and various legal/political institutions in the production of coloniality. Looking beyond the formal codifications of the racial, social, and political orders imposed by Spain, the authors of these fourteen essays investigate a range of texts to reveal the complex discursive networks from which these hierarchies were constructed. In doing so, they make a significant contribution to the growing scholarship of the Iberian empire, in particular to our understanding of the formation of colonial identities and modes of thought within it. BOOK REVIEWS 929 The editors group the essays into the three categories of politics, religion, and law. Through careful explication of written and visual texts, the essays articulate the strategies used by colonizer and colonized to adapt existing modes of thought to changing circumstances. Some of the essays focus on texts by recognizably influential writers in the history of colonization such as José de Acosta and Bartolomé de las Casas; others examine lesser known artifacts and figures. Ezekial Stear, for example, closely reads selected episodes from the Anales de Juan Bautista to reveal the tangled responses of indigenous Nahua elites to Christianization and Spanish colonial policy in sixteenth-century New Spain. Ana M. Rodríguez-Rodríguez uses the Historia de Mindanao y Joló to examine how its author, the Jesuit Francisco de Combés, negotiated the jarring encounter between Spanish imperial identity and its Muslim Other during the conquest of the Philippines. Both essays indicate the range of figures, contexts, positions, motivations, texts, and contexts surveyed in the book. The precision, richness, and collective range of these analyses impress and inspire. Careful attention to narrative and rhetorical devices reveals the linguistic traces of coloniality’s conceptual construction, both as it was experienced on the ground by a variety of actors across the Spanish empire and as it was theorized in the centers of imperial power. Especially welcome are those essays focusing on indigenous political agency and the means used to resist, or at least negotiate, the imposition of Western structures. The resulting mosaic suggests the value of such analyses, as well as the directions and forms future work could take. At the same time, the combination of such depth and scope can be frustrating. Readers may be intrigued, for example, by the analysis of the iconography of Marian shrines in the Philippines but will have to look elsewhere to understand how they compare to shrines in other areas of the empire. Readers who are interested in the role of the Catholic Church in colonization may be vexed to find that only a handful of chapters attempt a sustained analysis of the intersection of church doctrine and colonial administrative law. Of course, no collection of essays would be expected to coalesce into a cohesive narrative about something as heterogeneous and complex as the formation of Iberian coloniality. What readers will find instead in these essays is a range of models for analyzing colonial writing and representation, as well as an array of examples that suggest new directions for further investigation. Case Western Reserve University MICHAEL HOUSEHOLDER Martin Luther’s Anti-Semitism: Against His Better Judgment. By Eric W. Gritsch. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2012. Pp. xiv, 158. $25.00 paperback. ISBN 978-0-8028-6676-9.) The title and introduction of the book reveal the author’s approach to a topic that has been addressed frequently. On the one hand, Eric W. Gritsch sees 930 BOOK REVIEWS Martin Luther as a representative of an eliminatory antisemitism; on the other hand, he is a Christian theologian “who should have known better.” Serving as proof are one of Luther’s table-talks (pp. 12, 94ff, 140), in which he talked himself into a rage and reacted positively to the question as to whether a Christian was allowed to punish a Jew physically when caught blaspheming, as well as Luther’s utterances in connection with punishment for Jewish usury (p. 84). The study is organized into three chapters: in the first, Gritsch outlines the concept and history of antisemitism and Christianity’s contribution to it; in the second, he discusses Luther’s animosity against Jews; and in the third, he deals with reception history. Gritsch’s conception of antisemitism is decidedly wide, and it is focused on contemporary political semantics. Similarly, the statements on the concept of race (which in the biologist interpretation tradition on which Gritsch draws cannot be proven in Luther’s writings), and on the role of Jews as scapegoats in Christian societies are delineated broadly. Above all, Gritsch underscores the vitality, longevity, and danger of antisemitic concepts to the present. He also treats as antisemitism the tradition of anti-Jewish polemics that began in the New Testament. Most of the topics appearing here (such as the crusades, the legal situation, and “Jewish Pig”) are relevant neither in connection with Luther nor in regard to Germany of the late-seventeenth century. Some very short references on the attitudes toward the Jewish question of humanists (Johann Reuchlin, Desiderius Erasmus), Luther’s co-reformers, and contemporary journalists are more helpful to a historical understanding. Gritsch’s suggestion to speak of antisemitism in regard to Luther while leaving behind the research tradition of historical differentiation inaugurated by Heiko A. Oberman is based on the conviction that Luther’s and Hitler’s murderous demonizations of the Jews are correspondent. Consequently, the authoritative judgment on Luther and the Jews lies in Nazi propaganda and the history of its reception. In the second part of his book, Gritsch introduces Luther’s hermeneutic of the scriptures: different from the historical-critical exegesis of the humanists, Luther is, in his opinion, more concerned with the consistency of the scripture than with the Word of God as centered in Christ. Important to Luther’s antisemitism, he claims, was the differentiation between a pious Jewry of the Old Testament and an antiChristian Jewry of the Rabbinic—respectively Talmudic—tradition. The reader obtains the impression that this disjunction genuinely goes back to Luther—which is not the case. On the basis of Luther’s exegesis of the Psalms, Gritsch elaborates that Luther—in contrast to St. Paul (Rom. 11)—sees the Jewry definitively condemned by God (Rom. 11: 25–27)—that is, detached from the olive tree of God’s community and knowledge. Luther did not share Paul’s hope for salvation. That is, indeed, an observation that applies to all phases of his theology. To Gritsch, the Jewish rejection of a Christological interpretation of the Old Testament is the decisive precondition to Luther’s antisemitism (p. 47). In a chronological overview of his early exegetical lectures, Gritsch shows that the Jewish rejection of Jesus as the Messiah and the self-justification through “good deeds” formed the pivotal point BOOK REVIEWS 931 of Luther’s judgment on Jewry. In the second lecture on the Psalms, Luther’s criticism of contemporary mission practices toward Jews becomes tangible, as in his opinion they would only lead to deeper animosity toward the Church. Already at that time, Luther doubted that a noteworthy number of Jews could be converted to Christianity. Between 1521 and 1537, Gritsch assumes an “interlude of Pastoral Evangelism” (p. 59), which was characterized by a moderation of Luther’s antisemitism, especially in “That Jesus Christ was Born a Jew” (1523). As Gritsch claims, Luther showed a more pronounced conversion optimism (p. 63), which, however, had already given place to a deep skepticism in 1526. In Luther’s speech of the Church as a “new Israel,” Gritsch sees antisemitism in the sense of a “punitive supersessionism” (p. 69n124). Luther connects, according to Gritsch, Isaiah 24:23 to the definite destruction of Israel (p. 69). Gritsch sees a direct connection between Luther’s alleged turn to a more offensive anti-Jewish polemics in his pamphlet Against the Sabbatarians (1538) and news about the Sabbatarier, albeit without having verified more thoroughly the contradicting information on this case with which Luther was aware. In the sad fate of the persecuted Jews, Luther believed, according to Gritsch, in God’s concealed will, different from his conviction that distinct recognition of God is only possible in Christ (p. 77), as he had formulated especially in De servo arbitrio. In this, Gritsch sees a transgression of Luther’s own theological insight that God’s judgment is only apparent in Christ. The train of thought in Luther’s “On the Jews and Their Lies” (1543) is represented in a compact and correct way, although its context could have been described more precisely. The analysis ends with the—albeit not very convincing— assumption that Luther had violated his own exegetic principles in his most piercing pamphlet (p. 89). The chapter closes with appropriate representations of “The Shem Hamphoras” and “The Last Words of David” (both 1543) as well with the last Eisleben sermon before Luther’s death (1546). In all these texts, it becomes unmistakably clear that the Reformer fought for a Christian interpretation of the Old Testament. Luther’s recomposition of the song “Oh du armer Judas” (Alas, You Poor Judas) in the sense of a common guilt of Christians and Jews is seen by Gritsch only as “a glimpse of guilt […] drowned in the sea of Luther’s anti-Semitism” (p. 95n234). The last chapter is devoted to the aftermath of Luther’s antisemitism. Direct effects in the policy toward Jews did not occur except in Electoral Saxony. In an overview of essential text genres of confessional Lutheranism, the author shows that anti-Islamic statements had more significance than anti-Jewish statements. Additional traces of tradition follow, with the most prominent being Georg Nigrinus and Nikolaus Selnecker (pp. 99ff.); others point to ties to Luther’s moderate utterances of 1523 on policy toward Jews. Critical statements of Lutheran authors on Luther’s late writing on the Jews also dominate in the eighteenth century; in Halle, Johann Salomon Semler and Siegmund Jakob Baumgarten offensively advocated a toleration of the Jews (pp. 104ff.). The revitalization of antisemitic concepts was motivated by Johann Andreas Eisenmenger. Specific “positive” ties to Luther’s late writing on the Jews cannot be proved, but explicit distancing can. Generally, Gritsch’s presentation, essentially based on studies by Johannes Wallmann and 932 BOOK REVIEWS Johannes Brosseder, reproduces a picture that is well known to researchers. Nationalistic appropriations of Luther, conventionalizing him as a representative of a decidedly anti-Jewish German “National Character” (Volksgeist), can be seen in the 1880s. Since the 1920s, interpretations of Luther as a prophet of a Germanic religion become more frequent; missionary impulses were abandoned in the context of this racist ideology. Julius Streicher, Alfred Rosenberg, and the “Deutsche Christen” saw Luther as the most important witness of antisemitism in the earlier German history. But examples of an invocation of Luther that is targeted against Nazi antisemitism—such as the work of Dietrich Bonhoeffer—are not missing from Gritsch’s text. The inverse judgment in Peter F. Wiener’s writing—presenting Luther as the antisemitic predecessor of Hitler—became influential. A document of the Lutheran World Federation claimed for the first time that the Reformer violated his own better theological insights with the theologia gloriae of his late writing on the Jews. In the history of interpretations of Luther after 1945, his view on Jewry was criticized—on the one hand, on the basis of the promise to Israel that was still not fulfilled; on the other hand, on the basis of the eschatological perspective of the Epistle to the Romans. Luther’s judgments on Jewry were seen as not tolerable in view of the principles of his exegesis and the center of his theology of justification. Toward the end of Gritsch’s book, information on the history of research dominates (especially detailed concerning W. Walther Bienert and Heiko A. Oberman). The conclusion stresses that, on the one hand, antisemitism is a central aspect of Luther’s theology, but on the other hand—especially because of its foundation in the theologia gloriae—antisemitism contradicts the core of Luther’s theology and the Pauline vision of an eschatological community of Christians and Jews in Rom. 11. As a product by a scholar researching for decades on the subject of Luther and the Jews, Gritsch’s study deserves respect. It aims to carve out the central meaning of what he calls Luther’s antisemitism and to exclude any form of vindication. However, opinions may differ about Gritsch’s basic terminological decision to use antisemitism, when other terms such as anti-Judaism or premodern antisemitism seek to show connections between the hostility toward Jews of the sixteenth century and the later developments of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but also mark the differences concerning biological racism. It does seem to be obvious to Gritsch that Luther’s late writings on Jews do not serve as a source of the murderous antisemitism of National Socialist Germany; but at the same time, Luther’s writings also were quoted by Christian theologians to evidence their accordance with National Socialist ideology. In general, Gritsch discusses older relevant literature; newer titles included in the bibliography do not seem to have been used. Otherwise, the focus on some of the famous topics—the “Dunkelmännerstreit” and Christian Hebraic studies, the Sabbatarianism, Antonius Margharita, the historical contextualization of the individual texts of Luther, and many more—would have been different. The author’s assumption that Luther advocated an elimination of Jews just because they were Jews has to be put into perspective. In Luther’s table- BOOK REVIEWS 933 talk, quoted by Gritsch in this context, he is dealing with the capital crime of blasphemy—according to contemporary judicial conception. A methodical difficulty of Luther researchers can be seen in Gritsch’s argument as largely “Luther-immanently”—that is, without considering discursive contexts such as the challenge by authors of Roman Catholic and radical Reformation origin. Gritsch avoids a debate with a Christian Hebraism—mainly represented by Sebastian Münster—that does not follow his Christological interpretation of essential texts of the Old Testament. However, this aspect is essential, especially in Luther’s late writings on Jews. In addition, he does not adequately consider the dimension of contemporary reception history of Luther’s texts. With regard to their historical effects, Luther’s lectures, table-talks, and sermons must be seen as very different from his printed writings; for example, the contemporary distribution of his pamphlet of 1523 in print was much higher than that of his later writings. This book deserves attention not so much as an up-to-date contribution to a complex research debate, but rather as a product of research history bearing clear testimonial traits. University of Göttingen THOMAS KAUFMANN Reforming Reformation. Edited by Thomas F. Mayer. [Catholic Christendom, 1300–1700.] (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing. 2012. Pp. xiv, 251. $119.95. ISBN 978-1-4094-5154-9.) Editor Thomas F. Mayer begins this volume by contrasting the old and popular idea of a world-changing Protestantism with the distinct, interconnected histories that compose the blurred cultural landscapes that most historians now paint. Ten essays then challenge common perspectives in a topical or regional field and adduce evidence to pose alternative viewpoints. Whether these alternatives might add up to a new, comprehensive picture of sixteenth-century religious change is a bit hard to assess. Two essays consider Europe and the Reformation as a whole. Brad Gregory explains how Lutheran and Reformed confessional churches “became the great exceptions of the Reformation” (p. 33), while the free interpretation of the Bible unleashed a competition of fragmented truth claims and competing religious institutionalizations that would proliferate in the fertile, post-1650 terrain of England, the Dutch Republic, and eventually America. Against the idea of confessional state-building, the almost canonical historical opinion that everyone seems to love to hate, Gregory argues that the exercise of power and free interpretation of the Bible were incompatible. In the second contribution on European Reformation writ large, Ronald Thiemann, taking aim at Charles Taylor’s argument for a Weberian disenchantment of the world, argues that reformers actuated a “spiritual aesthetic” of “sacramental realism” (p. 77) evident in John Calvin and Martin Luther’s doctrine and in the art of Giotto, the younger Bellini, Andrea Mantegna, 934 BOOK REVIEWS Matthias Grünewald, the elder Cranach, and Master Mathias. To Gregory, the Reformation produces religious confusion. To Thiemann, it produces something like a worldly spirituality. The remaining essays take a regional approach, focusing on Italy, England, the Holy Roman Empire, or Spain. Three chapters treat England. Peter Marshall reminds us how the retiring generation of British historians ruled out the “confessionalization thesis” (p. 8) for England (Patrick Collinson) or Northwest Europe (Andrew Pettegree). Against that tide, Marshall argues for confessionalization of a certain kind, promoted by the Kings Book (1543), the Act of Uniformity (1552), the Marian restitution of Catholicism (1553–58), and the Elizabethan Settlement (1559) and Prayer Book (1563). But the result of such efforts was not a wishy-washy via media Anglicanism but a “robustly confessional state and a de facto religiously plural society” (p. 55)—confessionalization and pluralism. Anne Overell stresses spiritual continuities between religious opponents. She shows that although the sacrament of penance came to an end in Elizabethan England, the practice of spiritual direction and encouragements to confess sin ran right through the two switchback decades preceding Elizabeth’s accession, crossing Protestant-Catholic lines then and Anglican-Puritan lines later. Confessing sin to a priest or minister was promoted by the several editions of the Prayer Book, by editions and adaptations of Thomas á Kempis’ Imitation of Christ and Desiderius Erasmus’s Enchiridion, and by anti-Nicodemite literature. A third contribution on England takes up the role of continental influence on English developments, stressed recently by historians. John Edwards offers a close examination of the Dominican Bartolomé Carranza’s catechism, a central figure in the ecclesiastical policy of Mary Tudor. Carranza’s catechism, which he calls a blueprint of Marian religion, represents well the reformed Catholicism promoted by her court. Against “the usual division of Catholic culture” in sixteenth-century Spain “into squads of heroes and villains” (“spirituali and instransigenti, or Erasmians and scholastics,” p. 84), Lu Ann Homza reconsiders the use of evidence by the Inquisition to argue for tensions between a humanistic method of contextualizing and Rome-centered orthodoxy. This includes the trial of Mary Tudor’s helper Bartolomé Carranza when he returned home. In a second contribution on Spain, Jodi Bilinkoff complicates a picture associated with Peter Burke, who pointed out a Spanish penchant for lionizing founders of religious orders as saints. She argues for a decades-long process that reluctantly valorized the Discalced Carmelite John of the Cross. One chapter treats the Holy Roman Empire. John Frymire argues that scholars have neglected the shape and vitality of German Catholicism in the period 1520–90, a neglect he lays mostly at the feet of the nineteenth-century historian of the papacy Ludwig Pastor. Frymire shows, on the evidence of model sermon collections, how a distinctly German Catholic faith flourished, only to be overcome by the Rome-centered Catholicism of the seventeenth century. BOOK REVIEWS 935 Two chapters treat Italy, posing a complex view of the effect of Trent and the papacy. A common view sees literary creativity in Italy diminished by self-censuring authors in the century after the Council of Trent. But Abigail Brundin follows recent scholars (Virginia Cox, Matthew Trahere) to argue the opposite. Neglected popular genres, such as the small corpus of devotional poetry that appeared on Roman and Paduan Indexes and a “widespread appreciation of Petrarchan culture within Italian convents both before and after the Council of Trent” (p. 215) demonstrate the continued vitality of a “new model literature for a re-evangelized age” (p. 199). In a similar vein, against the idea that Trent’s warning against lascivious art stultified Italian painting, Marcia Hall argues that a hit parade of Venetian artists, and in particular Titian’s “unblended stroke” (p. 230), which encouraged “participation and even empathy” (p. 232) with Christ and the saints among viewers, helped realize Trent’s encouragement of devotionally effective art. So goes this book’s iconoclastic purpose. In a shrewd phrase, Marshall calls it “a corkscrew Reformation” (p. 64) in England. There is much in this book to suggest that Spain, Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire had their corkscrew Reformations, too, the sort of continental spiral that could make Bartolomé Carranza a rebuilder of Catholicism in Mary Tudor’s Protestant-mauling England but a possible Lutheran back in Spain. So what result do the excellent, finely textured, interconnected histories represented here produce? The two summations offered are Gregory’s fractious pluralism and Thiemann’s “post-secular” sacramental realism. The remaining contributors do not take sides. Papal actions, Tridentine theology, papal and confessional orthodoxies, Luther, Swiss Reformers, and urban rebellions were the sort of banners that reorganized the conclusions of historians working on littler things into much bigger things, such as parallel Catholic and Protestant Reformations, or the Luther-Calvinist-Catholic alternative societies of confessional state-builders. No more. In this book, the big ideas are cut down or passed over. As the calendar approaches the half-millennium anniversary of the Ninety-Five Theses, scholars are reconstructing intricate Reformations without Luther, but they do not agree on what Reformations make in sum. San Francisco Theological Seminary and the Graduate Theological Union at Berkeley CHRISTOPHER OCKER Shadows of Doubt: Language and Truth in Post-Reformation Catholic Culture. By Stefania Tutino. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 278. $74.00. ISBN 978-0-19-932498-9.) Stefania Tutino’s probe of the post-Tridentine Catholic intellectual world offers case studies of how some thinkers grappled with the function and limitations of language in moral theology, casuistry, rhetoric, dialectic, philosophy, history, ecclesiastical history, and poetry. Leaving aside scholarship focused on dogmatic Catholic truth on the one hand and skepticism on the other, she considers writers 936 BOOK REVIEWS rarely read—Agostino Mascardi, Pedro Juan Perpiñán, Famiano Strada, Francisco Suárez, Leonardus Lessius, Domingo de Soto, Paolo Beni, and Martín de Azpilcueta (Navarrus)—in whom she discerns hermeneutical and epistemological doubts that would have profound repercussions today on our efforts to understand the unstable, fragile relationship between human language and objective reality. In this “demimonde” she sees “a world of fractures and fractured truths that we, equipped with a heightened sensitivity to discrepancies and discontinuities, are now well suited to understand” (p. 4). Her approach is guided largely by philosophers of language and epistemology (Hans-Georg Gadamer, Paul Ricoeur, Ludwig Wittgenstein, Martin Heidegger, Giorgio Agamben, and others) and draws upon late- and postmodern critical theory to articulate the unstable yet crucial role of human language in post-Reformation Europe. Tutino’s five chapters delve into “the radical hermeneutical and epistemological implications of the doctrines of equivocation and mental reservation” (p. 149); “the hermeneutical question of the communication of meaning between a speaker and a hearer” (p. 19); language and truth; narrative and fact; “the truth-value of history, and the tension between documents, explanation, and interpretation” (p. 7). They consider further “the advantages and limitations of using historical documents to uncover the Truth of the Catholic Church” (p. 7), what it meant for a historian then to represent the past in narrative truly and truthfully, doubts about writing a human history of the Church (a divine institution), and the Roman College where “Jesuit intellectuals tried to grapple with the epistemological function of rhetoric as a means to attain knowledge in the unstable and uncertain world of men” (p. 113). The work ends by analyzing ideas of Paolo Prodi and Giorgio Agamben, who argue that the early-modern era marked “the erosion of the oath as a sacrament of language and the development of the oath as the sacrament of power” (p. 190). Each chapter makes much the same point: that “the fragility of the relationship between truth and language that characterizes our current intellectual and cultural horizon originated in the early modern world” (p. 190). Tutino explores interesting topics but leaves much to question, qualify, and (sometimes) doubt. She makes strong claims for these agents’ intellectual impact, but one would hope for more placement of their thinking in fuller historical context and in wider reference to past and contemporary thinkers. (Moral reservation, equivocation, and dissimulation had deep roots.) Perpiñán’s desultory thoughts on the relationship of rhetoric and dialectic make one wonder if his notes were not responses to Peter Ramus’s teaching on rhetoric and dialectic. The author suggests this (p. 132) but makes little of it. Why is there no mention of the teaching of Aristotle’s philosophy at the Roman College, especially books of the Organon like De sophisticis elenchis? Comments on Famiano Strada’s understanding of “the process of producing metaphor as . . . the human cognitive and heuristic activity par excellence” (p. 143) are tantalizing, but why not illustrate these claims with texts, perhaps with illustrations from Strada’s De bello Belgico (Rome, 1632)? Tutino’s study also begs for some understanding of this post-Tridentine “anxiety” within wider Western intellectual traditions, which would suggest that such uncertainties and BOOK REVIEWS 937 doubts go back further in time (see, for example, Sabina Flanagan, Doubt in an Age of Faith: Uncertainty in the Long Twelfth Century [Turnhout, 2008]) than one is left to imagine here. This work is thought-provoking but still in progress. Mount Holyoke College FREDERICK J. MCGINNESS Reading and Writing during the Dissolution: Monks, Friars, and Nuns 1530–1558. By Mary C. Erler. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2013. Pp. xi, 203. $90.00. ISBN 978-1-107-03979-7.) With its six compact chapters and 143 pages of text, this is a slim volume. But in this case at least, the materiality of the book is misleading. As we might expect from Mary C. Erler, Reading and Writing during the Dissolution is a rich, detailed, and nuanced contribution. The chapters divide easily into three pairs. Chapters 1 and 2 focus on London religious. First to be considered is Simon Appulby, the last anchorite of All Hallows, London Wall, and his Fruyte of Redempcyon (London, 1514), “a final conservative statement in the centuries-old debate about lay scriptural access” (p. 15). Looking back to Nicholas Love’s late-medieval Mirror, Erler here traces continuity—in anchoritic living, but also in patterns of devotion and book ownership— from the fifteenth century to St. Ignatius Loyola. The companion chapter is an account of the “Greyfriars Chronicle”: notes written by a Franciscan of the London convent covering the whole of the crucial period 1538–56. The “Chronicle” itself is oddly noncommittal on all the changes of the period, but what emerges most clearly from a fine-grained discussion of the former friars, their milieu, and their associates is the range of religious positions still possible in the 1530s and 1540s. For the next pair of chapters, Erler is on the familiar ground of women and piety, with a set of case studies of nuns and former nuns linked by their connections to, and correspondence with, Thomas Cromwell. Again, the range of doctrinal sympathies (from traditional to evangelical) is marked. In chapter 3, Erler explores how each of four abbesses who saw their houses closed down in the 1530s maintained (or re-created) a sense of community, interweaving family ties with those to former monastic colleagues. Chapter 4 is dedicated to a single woman, Margaret Vernon—a career monastic superior, a close friend of Cromwell, and an intimate of his circle; her letters reveal “a powerful and attractive personality” (p. 105) and a set of administrative skills to match. The final pair of chapters adds a European dimension to the discussion. Chapter 5 traces the engagement of English nuns with continental spirituality both before the dissolution and after, when women like Dorothy and Margaret Clement (at Louvain) and Katherine Palmer (with the Bridgettines of Syon at Dendermonde) found themselves, as a by-product of their exile, close to the centers of the latest currents of Catholic spirituality. Palmer and Dorothy Clement were the dedicatees of the Spirituall Exercyses published in 1557 by William Peryn, probably the 938 BOOK REVIEWS earliest example of Ignatian spirituality in English. For her last chapter, Erler returns to male religious, with a study of the last publication of Richard Whitford (brother of Syon), which was printed in 1541, two years after the closure of his house. Whitford has been much studied of late, but Erler valuably places his efforts in the context of continental printing projects that promoted Catholic reform, notably those emanating from the Carthusians of Cologne (Denys Rykiel’s house). The book concludes with thirty-five pages of appendices, offering summaries and transcriptions of some of the key documents and texts that underpin the foregoing analyses. There is no formal conclusion and only a summary introduction. Erler eschews grand methodological or historiographical statements, although the modestly expressed “I have regularly thought of bibliography as a way of exploring lives” (p. 2) could define the work of a scholar whose richly textured investigations (unlike some book history) always seem to add up to more than the sum of their parts. In her study, the Dissolution (like the larger Reformation) emerges not as a one-off event, but a generation of upheaval and uncertainty. As Erler comments of Richard Whitford, “he was involved in a process, one whose resolution was by no means visible” (p. 141). To read this book is to immerse oneself in that process. University of Exeter E. A. JONES The Huguenots. By Geoffrey Treasure. (New Haven: Yale University Press. 2013. Pp. xiv, 468. $27.50 paperback. ISBN 978-0-300-20866-5.) The Huguenots and their troubled history have been the subject of countless scholarly as well as popular accounts. The present survey, directed primarily toward an informed public audience, concentrates on time-honored political, military, and religious themes. It offers a detailed narrative of the Huguenots in France from the beginning of the Reformation through the early-eighteenth century. As such, Geoffrey Treasure provides a helpful synthesis of substantial recent, principally Englishlanguage scholarship on the subject. The approach also means that, somewhat regrettably, he tends not to introduce new sources, explore fresh topics, or pursue original methodologies by which the Huguenot experience might be better understood and interpreted. This is, nonetheless, a highly readable and engaging book. Treasure organizes the material chronologically, dividing the Huguenot past into five major epochs, to each of which he gives a particular focus. Thus, the study begins with an overview of France and the sixteenth-century disruption of its political and religious order. What was the kingdom’s political constitution, the character of late-medieval Christianity, and the challenge posed by John Calvin and the Reformed movement? Treasure then launches into the heart of the matter. This second section poses several basic questions. How did Reformed communities go about establishing churches and asserting political and, more especially, military power? What did it mean to be a Huguenot, and how did a political-military party coalesce for the movement’s defense? The breakpoint for everyone, Reformed and Catholic alike, was the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre of August 1572. Part 3 BOOK REVIEWS 939 traces the kingdom’s dissolution into utter chaos in the wake of this horrific tragedy. Only by the end of the sixteenth century was King Henri IV able to restore peace. The Edict of Nantes (1598) granted the Huguenots civil status, legal protections, and the right to worship openly. Still, King Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu would crush their political and military influence by the late 1620s. The next section examines the ensuing decades, which in Treasure’s words constituted a “golden age” (p. 269), although one with a dark underside. Huguenot talents in the arts and literature, commerce and artisan pursuits flourished despite unrelenting Catholic and royal pressure. These French Protestants also maintained and deepened a well-disciplined and committed community of faith. Finally, whatever the mix of accomplishment and frustration, the Huguenot world came crashing down by the 1680s. King Louis XIV’s revocation of the Edict of Nantes (1685) offered few and unpleasant choices. Many Huguenots—Treasure estimates 200,000—famously fled the kingdom. A few such as the Camisards took up arms in open revolt. Others surely assimilated over time into Catholic society, but most hunkered down and endured. Treasure’s interpretative framework clearly highlights heroism and moral purpose—longstanding virtues associated with the Huguenots. Their struggle for survival amid unrelenting, frequently savage persecution lent them great strength. They simultaneously become archetypically modern in their efforts to secure civil rights, exercise a right to worship, and enjoy full protection as a religious minority. None of this is inaccurate, and the Huguenots are wholly deserving of our respect and admiration. Still, the story told here would have benefited from greater nuance and a more balanced assessment of the complexities of the Huguenot situation. What, for example, were the internal dynamics of the community? How did ordinary members of the local congregations cope with the stressful changes? In the end, this is a comprehensive and accessible, if largely conventional, account of the place and importance of the Huguenots in the European and ultimately broader Atlantic past. University of Iowa RAYMOND A. MENTZER Ferdinand II, Counter-Reformation Emperor, 1578–1637. By Robert Bireley. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2014. Pp. xii, 324. $99.00. ISBN 978-1107-06715-8.) It is in many respects very surprising that an English-language biography of Emperor Ferdinand II (1578–1637) has not appeared earlier. Although there have been relatively recent studies of his Habsburg predecessors (Ferdinand I and Maximilian II) and two German biographies of his lesser known son (Ferdinand III), the individual who was arguably the most significant prince of Counter-Reformation Central Europe has not received the attention he so obviously merits. It was Ferdinand and his ally Maximilian of Bavaria who were such critical figures in the first stages of the Thirty Years’ War. They were in large part responsible for the Catholic resurgence across Central Europe at a moment when it seemed possible that Protes- 940 BOOK REVIEWS tantism would permanently supplant its confessional rival. After several decades of vacillating leadership Ferdinand helped re-establish the Austrian branch of the dynasty and reaffirmed the family’s allegiance to Rome. In this well-written biography, Robert Bireley ably retells Ferdinand’s story: his efforts shoring up the family, prosecuting a war, and reviving Catholicism’s flagging fortunes. Bireley’s Ferdinand II is the culmination of a long and prolific career dedicated primarily to the study of early-modern religion and politics. He has written synthetic surveys (The Refashioning of Catholicism, 1450–1700 [Washington, DC 1999]) as well as more focused studies on Austria and the Thirty Years’ War (Religion & Politics in the Age of the Counter Reformation [Chapel Hill, NC, 1981]) and is thus well positioned to examine this critical Habsburg emperor both in the local setting and in the broader European context. This is no small feat, for Central Europe with its complicated political and religious landscape is difficult terrain to navigate. It is not easy to keep track of the family itself, for Ferdinand’s grandfather had fifteen children and subdivided his lands among his offspring. Fortunately, Bireley does include a genealogical overview of the Austrian Habsburgs along with a set of useful maps. More important, Bireley lucidly highlights the critical moments of Ferdinand’s life: years of formation in Graz and with the Jesuits at Ingolstadt, his reign as archduke of Inner Austria, his accession to the imperial throne and the crisis of the Bohemian revolt, his early success during the war and the implementation of the Edict of Restitution, the intervention of Gustav Adolph, and the road to an eventual peace settlement and the succession of his son. Bireley has built the study around archival research in Vienna, Munich, and Rome and has produced a portrait of the emperor that favors the political, religious, and diplomatic aspects of his reign. Although he pays less attention to cultural, economic, and social developments, he does provide some intriguing glimpses: a tour of Italy that fired the young Ferdinand’s confessional and cultural imagination, the baroque transformation of Graz with its new university and selected snapshots of daily life at the imperial court. There is at times an apologetic feel to the biography. Perhaps in response to an older Protestant historiography, Bireley repeatedly asserts that Ferdinand was a “moral” individual. Additionally, he draws links between Ferdinand’s policies and Josephinism—surely an observation that merits fuller discussion. It would have also been interesting had Bireley engaged more directly with recent scholarship on the Holy Roman Empire. The relationship of the Austrian lands to the broader German Reich has been a fraught question for generations and one that scholars such as Joachim Whaley, Georg Schmidt, and Barbara Stollberg-Rillinger have addressed with new insights. These may be questions for the next generation of historians. In the meantime, we can be grateful for the solid foundation that Bireley has laid for the study of the Austrian Habsburgs in the era of the Thirty Years’ War. University of Minnesota HOWARD LOUTHAN BOOK REVIEWS 941 Martin Delrio: Demonology and Scholarship in the Counter-Reformation. By Jan Machielsen. (Published for the British Academy by Oxford University Press. Oxford, UK. 2015. Pp. x, 441. $150.00. ISBN 978-0-19-726580-2.) As the author of the massive Disquisitionum magicarum libri sex, Martin Delrio is now known mainly as one of the leading demonologists of the early-modern era. Jan Machielsen wants to restore his status as an important humanist scholar and post-Tridentine Catholic intellectual. In doing so, Machielsen also seeks to expand our understanding of early-modern demonology, situating it within a much wider intellectual landscape. He acknowledges the inspiration of Stuart Clark’s magisterial Thinking with Demons (New York, 1997), which demonstrated how demonologists regularly engaged with major political, religious, scientific, and other issues. However, Machielsen argues that in the nearly twenty years since that seminal publication, the traditional image of demonologists as deranged witch-hunters rather than sober scholars has endured. Whereas Clark surveyed the full range of early-modern demonology, Machielsen opts to study just one author, but to take into account the full range of his writings rather than just his demonology. The resulting book is something of an intellectual biography of Delrio, although the emphasis is definitely on intellectual rather than the biographic. Machielsen begins with a few chapters on Delrio’s early life during the tumultuous revolt in the Spanish Netherlands, which he argues shaped the young man’s subsequent outlook on almost all issues and forged his lifelong devotion to the authority of the Catholic Church. Thereafter, the book becomes almost exclusively a study of Delrio’s written works. The picture we are given is of a citizen of the Republic of Letters who is only secondarily an inhabitant of the real world. Delrio’s accomplishments in the Republic of Letters are certainly impressive enough to warrant a book. Machielsen devotes chapters to his scholarship on Senecan tragedy, to his complicated relationship with Justus Lipsius, and to his visceral criticisms of Joseph Scaliger, among other topics. He places Delrio, in terms of intellectual significance, below the great triumvirate of Lipsius, Scaliger, and Isaac Casaubon, but argues that he was still a leading humanist figure and needs to be remembered as such, not just as an overly credulous demonologist. When discussing the Disquisitiones, Machielsen stresses that they encompassed far more than just witchcraft, and he is quick to note that Delrio probably never encountered a witch directly. All his engagement with magic, superstition, and witchcraft was purely “textual.” Machielsen then links Delrio’s demonology to his humanism. Having examined how humanists went about the work of correcting ancient texts, he argues that Catholic intellectuals generally tended to favor textual authority. Delrio, in particular, was loath to discount any passages of ancient texts simply because they conflicted with modern sensibilities, and he criticized those humanists who felt free to emend texts based on their own instinctive “conjecture.” In terms of demonology, this mean that Delrio tended to accept accounts of mag- 942 BOOK REVIEWS ical or wondrous activities, provided the textual tradition behind them seemed solid. This earned him his reputation for credulity once skepticism about witchcraft became more widespread, but Machielsen shows how it was fully a part of the intellectual currents of the time and helped to keep the Disquisitiones in circulation long after other demonological texts has ceased to be of interest to scholars. Delrio would have been confused to be labeled a demonologist, a term that did not exist in his time. To study him as one is not wrong. Like early-modern humanists, modern scholars can sometimes properly emend the past via categories of our own conjecture. But it is very enlightening to approach Delrio in terms he would have understood—as a humanist, Jesuit, Catholic, and scholar. Iowa State University MICHAEL D. BAILEY Histoire littéraire des bénédictins de Saint-Maur, Tome Quatrième (1724–1787). By Philippe Lenain. [Bibliothèque de la Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, Fascicule 98.] (Leuven: Maurits Sabbe-bibliotheek; Turnhout: Brepols. 2014. Pp. x, 651. €85,00 paperback. ISBN 978-2-503-54490-8.) This work is the fourth and final volume of Philippe Lenain’s catalog of the literary works by the Benedictines of the Congregation of Saint-Maur. The Maurists themselves and later historians have sought to create an organized account of the works of these monks, but Lenain’s monumental undertaking is the most comprehensive version yet assembled. Lenain organized the entries according to each monk’s number from the Matricula Monachorum Professorum Congregationis S. Mauri, in Gallia Ordinis Sancti Patris Benedicti, which assigned the numbers based on the monk’s profession date. (An alphabetical list with the Matricula numbers is given in volume 1.) Each entry includes a brief biography of the monastic writer, a list of his works, his known correspondence, the locations where the monk’s works can be found (published and archival sources), and bibliographic references. Entries range in size from a few lines to multiple pages. Volume 4 covers the monastic writers from 1724 to 1787. The Age of Enlightenment brought new perspectives and challenges to these monks. Dom François Clément, one of the more prolific Maurists of the eighteenth century, lamented that the “taste for studies” among his fellow regulars had declined in the Age of Reason. That may have been true in philosophy and theology, fields that the Maurists had dominated during the previous century, but the Congregation still produced renowned scholars in history, literature, and science who responded to the changing academic environment of the Enlightenment. Nonetheless, the number of Maurist authors was cut in half during the eighteenth century. Lenain’s compilation bears testimony to this; the works of the seventeenth century comprised three volumes, whereas those of the eighteenth fit into one. Jean de Viguerie in the preface to volume 4 attributes this lack of production to laxity in enforcement of the Rule of Saint Benedict, the eternal cause of decline BOOK REVIEWS 943 in the eyes of monastic writers. But, de Viguerie also notes other reasons for the decrease: namely that Maurists in the eighteenth century began to work more in the public realm as librarians and educators in private military academies and public schools. Their teaching left them little time to pursue the research and writing of their predecessors (a situation to which many professors today can relate). De Viguerie also points to Freemasonry as a source of the decline in scholarly output. Freemasonry became very popular among the upper and middle classes in the eighteenth century, and as prominent, educated members of their secular community, Maurists sometimes joined the local lodge or even held lodge meetings within the monastery. Their membership has often been cited as one of the reasons for the decline in the order and its academic works. In fact, only two Maurists who were also freemasons appear in this volume. At the same time, this could indicate a new area for research even beyond Lenain’s current work. Monks who were freemasons did continue to write and produce scholarship, but they often did so for their lodges, not for the order. To add these works to the list of monastic writings will require combing through the archives of lodges, perhaps a new direction for scholarship on the Maurists. This final volume in the series is more visually appealing than the previous three. Also, it contains a bibliography that is limited to only French sources. Much research still needs to be done on the history and scholarship of the Congregation of Saint-Maur. Lenain’s compilation, the result of years of extensive research, will provide a useful tool for future researchers. Lourdes University Sylvania, OH MARY KATHRYN ROBINSON Priests of the French Revolution: Saints and Renegades in a New Political Era. By Joseph F. Byrnes. (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press. 2014. Pp. xxvi, 316. $74.95. ISBN 978-0-271-06377-5.) Of the approximately 115,000 priests serving in France at the debut of the 1789 Revolution, at least 50,000 went on to swear an oath mandated by the state that signified their acceptance of the religious reform decree called the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. This study by Joseph F. Byrnes considers the most prominent Catholic clerics who took the 1791 Oath and saw the Revolution as an opportunity either to regenerate France religiously or—in the more notorious cases—merely to advance their own careers, whether within the Church or well beyond it. Dividing his narrative into three segments—“engagement, survival, and revival”—Byrnes centers on the words and actions of the most influential constitutional priests, many of whom became bishops during the revolutionary and Napoleonic eras. Included among them are Henri Grégoire, Claude Fauchet, Claude Le Coz, and Adrien Lamourette. Nonetheless, other priests who not only failed to join the episcopacy but also ditched their vows during the Revolution are 944 BOOK REVIEWS discussed as well: a proponent for regicide, François Chabot; a brash enragé, Jacques Roux; an unabashed terrorist, Joseph Le Bon, just to name a few. In showcasing a wide array of characters, Byrnes demonstrates how varied clerical reaction was to the Revolution, and how events in France changed priestly champions of regeneration in myriad ways. As Byrnes addresses the priests, he especially focuses on the writing of each one—often providing insight for how they saw themselves and their vocation amid revolutionary tumult. He thereby offers many examples of the discursive strategies that such priests pursued, as well as the common rhetorical tropes that they employed either to defend their own revolutionary choices or to castigate their political and religious enemies. He also follows a recent historiographical trend in emphasizing the strength of the Gallican Church (or what Byrnes calls the “Second Constitutional Church” [p. xvi]) that the 1791 Oath-takers were able to cobble together after the Terror. As Byrnes keenly shows, Napoleon’s contention that the French Church was in hopeless disarray at the end of the revolutionary decade reflected more of the myth on which the 1801 Concordat was promoted than it did of the reality on the ground. Although Byrnes’s focus on priestly discourse greatly advances our understanding of the clerics in question, the structure of the book impedes a comprehensive take on the discourse that they employed. By choosing to take up and explain one priest at a time, and one after the other, he inhibits readers from establishing the rhetorical ties that bound many of the priests together. More problematic, however, is that Byrnes has little to say about most oath-taking parish priests—those at the Revolution’s front lines who often faced even more duress than the likes of Grégoire or Le Coz. Nor is it always clear how priestly interaction with the laity in a revolutionary context was responsible for forging the choices that these clerics made. The supreme irony of the French Revolution is that in an attempt to make the Catholic Church more accountable to what the Second Vatican Council aptly called “the people of God,” it ended up only reinforcing clerical hegemony within the Church. Byrnes provides an excellent and largely unparalleled narrative for how and why such hegemony grew. Even so, little here suggests that these priests bypassed a golden opportunity to secure a principle central to the Revolution itself: greater autonomy and agency for the many who—for too long—had no voice in either the Church or the state. Western Illinois University EDWARD J. WOELL BOOK REVIEWS 945 LATE MODERN EUROPEAN Monseigneur Darboy (1813–1871): Archevêque de Paris entre Pie IX et Napoléon III. By Jacques-Olivier Boudon. (Paris: Cerf. 2011. Pp. 192. €19,00 paperback. ISBN 978-2-204-09200-5.) Being the archbishop of Paris was a dangerous job in the nineteenth century. Monseigneur Georges Darboy, the subject of Jacques-Olivier Boudon’s excellent brief biography, was executed as a hostage by forces representing the Paris Commune in May 1871; two of his predecessors, Monseigneurs Affre and Sibour, also died violently—Affre on the barricades of June 1848, Sibour at the hands of a crazed priest in 1857. Boudon’s biography clarifies the details leading up to Darboy’s tragic death, but it also provides an overview of his entire career and thereby brings into focus some of the most important developments in the history of the Church in modern France. Darboy’s career followed a typical pattern for the nineteenth-century French episcopacy. He was born into a modest family in the Haute-Marne, east of Paris. His intelligence and ambition opened doors to high positions in the Church that would have been a rarity for a nonaristocrat, if not unthinkable, in the eighteenth century. Influenced in his seminary years by Lamennais’s project of marrying “God and Liberty,” Darboy was devoted to the work of reconciling the Church and the modern liberal state, a task that proved difficult during the papacy of Pius IX, with whom he clashed on a number of occasions. Boudon shows, however, the extent to which a liberal Gallican bishop could become an influential figure despite the ultramontane policies of Pius IX. Here Boudon’s biography serves as a case study that exemplifies his earlier and magisterial works, L’Épiscopat français à l’époque concordataire (1802–1905): origines, formation, nomination (Paris, 1996) and Paris, capital religieuse sous le Second Empire (Paris, 2001). Like many of his episcopal colleagues, Darboy served an apprenticeship as a vicar-general before he became archbishop in 1863. His familiarity with the administrative and pastoral problems of Paris made him an excellent administrator, visiting parishes, expanding the numbers of clergy, and working cooperatively with the French state. But as Boudon points out, Darboy’s own investigations reveal the challenges he faced, with only 15 percent of the population making its Easter duty in the late 1860s. Darboy’s tenure was also troubled by a long-running conflict with the papacy. His defense of Napoleon III’s Roman policy, and his attempt to interpret Pius IX’s “Syllabus of Errors” in a liberal mode, earned him the enmity of Pius IX, who personally intervened to ensure that the archbishop of Paris would not be named a cardinal. Given his past record, it is no surprise that Darboy was among the leaders of the opposition to the declaration of papal infallibility at the First Vatican Council. Boudon’s treatment of Darboy’s activity at Rome reminds us that despite the lopsided result in favor of the declaration, it was preceded by a bitter dispute in which as many as thirty-four (out of eighty-eight) French bishops agreed with Darboy that it was “inopportune.” Darboy nonetheless accepted the decree, 946 BOOK REVIEWS adhering “purely and simply” to the decision of the Council (p. 142)—a conciliatory move that adds to the complexity of his historical legacy. Darboy left Rome before the final vote and arrived at Paris just as the FrancoPrussian war began. Following the French defeat, he was arrested by the rebellious Paris Commune and held in prison for more than a month. Boudon is characteristically judicious in his analysis of the responsibility for Darboy’s execution, confirming the central role of the virulently anticlerical prosecutor Théophile Ferré, but noting as well the refusal of the government at Versailles to negotiate for the release of the hostages. Boudon sees Darboy’s execution as more of a political than a religious act, a distinction that might not have been perfectly clear to the participants on both sides of the Parisian civil war. In a final chapter Boudon reviews the intermittent efforts on the part of some of his successors to have Darboy beatified. But a residue of resentment for his liberal tendencies and concern over recalling a dark moment in the history of the Church’s relationship to the working class stalled the process, leaving Darboy on the margins of church history. Darboy’s posthumous career thus serves as an ironic demonstration of the resonance in the contemporary world of issues at the heart of his life in the nineteenth-century Church. University of Notre Dame THOMAS KSELMAN The Modernity of Others: Jewish Anti-Catholicism in Germany and France. By Ari Joskowicz. [Stanford Studies in Jewish History and Culture.] (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 373. $65.00. ISBN 978-0-80478702-4.) There is an extensive and excellent literature on the role of the Catholic Church in the long history of anti-Jewish prejudices and violence. In this striking, erudite, and sure-footed monograph, Ari Joskowicz reverses the usual perspective, focusing our attention on the negative attitudes of Jews toward Catholicism over the course of the long nineteenth century, from the high Enlightenment to the aftermath of the Dreyfus affair. Taking a transnational approach, looking at France and Germany in parallel, Joskovicz excellently brings out the potential of comparative history, illuminating the situation in each country by highlighting its similarities, differences, and intertwinements with the other. He also overcomes the reductive binarism of much work in Jewish-Christian relations, which can treat Christianity monolithically. In this study we are made keenly aware that Jews were closely engaged in the various tussles between liberal secularism and Catholicism, which modernizing liberals often designated as their primary nemesis. In no sense, though, is this study a simple turning of the tables on the wellknown history of Catholic antisemitism in this period. Both Jews and Catholics were victims of targeted violence during the nineteenth century, as Joskovicz points out, rightly arguing that there is a place for the comparative study of these physical manifestations of prejudice (pp. 35–37). The focus of his study, however, is on the discursive use by Jews of anti-Catholic rhetoric. This was a “political language,” BOOK REVIEWS 947 deployed by Jews in various ways for varying purposes. Scholars have long recognized that anti-Jewish discourse can have many uses, often only loosely connected to Jews themselves. Joskovicz’s analysis shrewdly redeploys this insight, highlighting, for example, the ways in which terms such as jesuitic or medieval carried evocative anti-Catholic resonances and were terms through which modernizing Jews frequently expressed their alignment with progress and against whatever they deemed as in opposition to this—including, not infrequently, their adversaries within the Jewish community (p. 8). The central subject of the book is not so much anti-Catholic discourse in itself but rather the ways in which Jewish politicians, intellectuals, and community leaders in France and Germany used this to position themselves as enlightened, modern citizens. Jewish anti-Catholicism, Joskovicz convincingly argues, “served as a gauge of Jews’ political and social integration” (p. 270). Once Jews felt confident enough to participate as equals in European political debates, it was often more appealing for them to assert their progressive orientation in contrast not to the old traditions and authority structures of Judaism, but to those of Catholicism. Joskovicz deftly traces this tendency, from the anticlericalism of Moses Mendelssohn and other maskilim, through landmark moments such as the Damascus Affair (1840) and the Mortara Affair (1856), to the Jewish voices in the Kulturkampf of the 1870s. He here challenges “the myth of minority sensitivity” (p. 240), according to which the Jews supposedly inclined toward an empathetic understanding to the experience of German Catholics under Bismarck. The Modernity of Others tells a complicated story, involving much intercutting among countries, individuals, and analytical registers. Its story is also, inevitably, not a complete one: more might be said, for example, about those Jews who engaged positively with Catholicism such as the various converts of the romantic era or the radical Ludwig Boerne who, in 1834, translated into German Felicité de Lamennais’s socialist Catholic credo, Paroles d’un croyant. Overall, however, this is an immensely stimulating and impressive book, and one that greatly furthers and nuances our understanding of the politics of religion in nineteenth-century Europe. King’s College London ADAM SUTCLIFFE The Antagonist Principle: John Henry Newman and the Paradox of Personality. By Lawrence Poston. [Victorian Literature and Culture.] (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press. 2014. Pp. xvi, 281. $45.00. ISBN 978-0-8139-3633-8.) It is hard to perceive any real point to this book. We are told rather vaguely in the preface that it is a study of the “idea of Personality in the Christian tradition, and its reverberations, beyond the more narrowly theological, to explain something of Newman’s recurring efforts to organize his thoughts around that idea” and that its “principal concern is to re-situate Newman as one of the most combative of the Victorian seekers” (pp. x–xi). But it is hardly a case of “re-situating” when it is already very well-known that Blessed John Henry Newman was one of the great Victorian controversialists. 948 BOOK REVIEWS The nearest, effectively, that we get to a thesis is Poston’s assumption that Newman studies are dominated by a clash between so-called hagiographers and iconoclasts and that he sees himself as standing in via media. Truth, however, is not always to be found in the via media, as Newman himself came so painfully to believe. Poston, for example, thinks that the truth must lie between the arch-iconoclast Frank Turner’s revisionist attack on Newman (2002) and his allegedly hagiographical critics (although, to be fair, he recognizes the problematic nature of such an assumption). But the question of whether Turner’s accusation that Newman lied in his Apologia pro Vita sua is true or not is not to be decided by attempting to compromise between the iconoclast and the hagiographers. Rather, the truth is to be discovered by looking at the actual historical evidence. This shows plainly that the Oxford Movement was launched in reaction to the threat posed by the reforming Whig government, which was to pass the great Reform Act a year later in 1834. The fear was that the state would interfere in the affairs of the Church of England, with the support of liberal Anglicans like Thomas Arnold who advocated a more comprehensive national Church that would embrace Dissenters. The liberal government, after all, had already intervened in Ireland, even suppressing several sees of the established Church there, a flagrant state interference that provoked John Keble’s famous Assize Sermon in the university church in Oxford, an event that Newman always considered the beginning of the Oxford Movement. In any case, Turner’s thesis that Newman’s role in the movement was dictated by hatred of the Evangelicals and not by opposition to the liberals does not make any historical sense: for why should such a movement suddenly begin in 1833 when the Evangelical party was long established in the Church of England and posed no such threat as did the liberal party allied to the Whig government? That Newman strongly criticized the Evangelicals is not in dispute, but they caused neither the movement nor his role in it. Again, when Turner asserts that Newman became a Roman Catholic so that he could continue to be a “monk” in his Littlemore community, Poston, following his via media thesis, merely remarks that he “overstates the case” (p. 141). In fact, there was no reason why the Littlemore community (which Bishop Richard Bagot of Oxford had not and could not have banned) should not have continued in the Church of England as the first of many religious communities that would soon be coming into existence. As for becoming a Roman Catholic “monk,” Newman contemplated a secular job for some time after his conversion. Ultimately, Nicholas Wiseman—then coadjutor to Vicar Apostolic Thomas Walsh of the Midland District—offered the use of the old Oscott seminary to the Littlemore community; but it was only intended to be a temporary refuge while the members of the community decided their futures. It was not until the next year when Newman was in Rome that he began to think seriously about Wiseman’s suggestion that the community might be able to continue to exist in the form of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri. Poston is unaware that the Discourses on the Scope and Nature of University Education (Dublin, 1852) only constitute the first half of The Idea of a University (London, 1873; Poston, pp. 168, 174). According to Poston, Newman portrays himself in the Apologia (London, 1864) as “a largely passive leader” at the onset of BOOK REVIEWS 949 the Oxford Movement (Poston, p. 69)—actually Newman speaks of his “exuberant and joyous energy” (Apologia, p. 112). Poston bizarrely thinks Newman was beatified by “a most unlikely pope” (p. 1)—that is, a major theologian himself beatifying the greatest Catholic theologian of the nineteenth century. A retired professor of English, Poston reveals his lack of theology in his absurd assertion that Newman advised Catholics that they were not required to give “adherence to a specific definition de fide as long as they had made an active avowal of faith in the Church’s teaching” (p. 219). University of Oxford IAN KER Complicity in the Holocaust: Churches and Universities in Nazi Germany. By Robert P. Ericksen. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2012. Pp. xviii, 261. $90.00 clothbound, ISBN 978-1-107-01591-3; $28.99 paperback, ISBN 978-1-107-66333-6.) Over the course of the past three decades, Robert Ericksen has come to be recognized as one of the leading scholars of the relationship between the German churches and the Nazi state. In Complicity in the Holocaust, he strives to situate the attitudes of theological and religious leaders within the broader context of academic discourse and university politics during the Third Reich. The result is a thoughtful and nuanced reflection on the moral culpability of both churchmen and university professors in helping legitimize the murderous policies of a criminal regime. Noting the significant degree of influence exercised by pastors, priests, and academic elites within German society, Ericksen sets out to explore the provocative question of whether “ordinary Germans who became killers for the Nazi state felt they had received permission from their churches or from their universities” (p. 23). The answer, which unfolds progressively through a series of well-defined chapters, is largely affirmative. In examining Protestant responses to the rise of Nazism, Ericksen focuses extensively on the so-called Kirchenkampf (church struggle) and the tensions that emerged in the course of 1933 over the extent to which Protestant theology should be adapted to fit the new imperatives of Nazi ideology. Catholic bishops, for their part, had issued multiple condemnations of Nazism before 1933, but undertook a sudden “about-face” (p. 55) following Hitler’s appointment as chancellor, ushering in a period of widespread, albeit not entirely seamless, Catholic accommodation. Ericksen goes on to explore the responses of university figures to the rise of Hitler, particularly at the University of Göttingen, focusing on the dynamism of right-wing nationalist activism among both students and faculty during the Weimar era, which in turn helped pave the way for a broad embrace of the Nazi policies that progressively permeated university culture after 1933. In a particularly insightful chapter on the churches between 1933 and 1945, Ericksen examines a series of oft-cited oppositional stances taken by Protestants and Catholics—ranging from the 1934 Barmen Declaration to the 1937 papal encyclical Mit brennender Sorge (With Burning Concern)—and labels them collec- 950 BOOK REVIEWS tively as “small victories” (p. 95). This is not done with the goal of disparagement, but rather in the interest of contrasting them with the “large defeats” (p. 114) that Ericksen sees as characteristic of a much broader moral collapse on the part of churchmen and believers of both confessions. In the subsequent chapter on university culture during the Third Reich, Ericksen continues his emphasis on the University of Göttingen, exploring the transformation of its hiring and personnel policies, the politicization of its academic curriculum, and the role played by its medical faculty in the Nazi sterilization and euthanasia programs. The book’s final chapters bring the story skillfully through the postwar denazification process, arguing that repression and falsification were central to the exculpatory narratives constructed by church and university leaders after 1945. Protestants in particular exaggerated the importance of the Kirchenkampf, portraying radically atypical figures like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Niemöller as if they had been representative of German Protestantism as a whole. Both Protestant and Catholic clergy were clearly complicit in helping to “whitewash” (p. 171) the pasts of Nazi perpetrators, and at the University of Göttingen former Nazis were let off the hook so routinely that “by 1950, denazification courts seemed ready to credit almost any claim of innocence” (p. 219). Ericksen’s use of individual case studies in these chapters allows him to explore the complexities of the postwar years with a laudable degree of specificity and texture. The book concludes with an eloquent plea for readers to view the moral collapse of religious and academic leaders during the Nazi era as a cautionary tale for our own age: “It should warn us against compromising our own values— human rights, civil rights, and international law—in the face of adversity” (p. 235). In the end, Ericksen is to be congratulated for producing a compelling piece of scholarship that is eminently readable, frequently thought-provoking, and deeply insightful. Oakland University DEREK HASTINGS Wehrmacht Priests: Catholicism and the Nazi War of Annihilation. By Lauren Faulkner Rossi. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. 2015. Pp. xii, 336. $39.95. ISBN 978-0-674-59848-5.) Military chaplains serve two masters: God and the state. Not infrequently conflicts arise between the loyalties demanded by each, especially in times of war. This was particularly the case in Nazi Germany, whose rulers launched a criminal onslaught that brought devastation and death to millions of victims, especially in Eastern Europe. Lauren Faulkner Rossi’s scholarly analysis of the experience of the Catholic priests who were conscripted to serve in the German army or Wehrmacht is highly illuminating of the dilemmas they faced and the compromises they made. This examination of the role of the Catholic clergy in the German armed forces is a pioneering study, which takes us beyond the earlier account by Kevin Spicer, Hitler’s Priests (DeKalb, IL, 2008), which was concerned only with the handful of bigoted and fractious clerical devotees to National Socialism. Rossi, by contrast, seeks to study the behavior of the several thousand Catholic priests or future BOOK REVIEWS 951 priests, who were recruited from the diocesan clergy, the seminarians, and even the older students of Catholic theological schools. This is the first comprehensive study in English and is marked by a determined commitment not to follow the defensive and apologetic stance adopted by so many Catholic historians in Germany over the past seven decades. When Hitler took power in 1933 he supported the re-established military chaplaincy for three reasons: first, because religion to him was a critical element in cultivating loyalty and motivating soldiers; second, the chaplaincy was a means of control over the troops, and third, it was a vehicle for imputing nationalistic loyalties for the sake of enhancing Germany’s historic civilization. The Vatican was also intensely interested in the future of the Catholic military chaplaincy. The Reich Concordat between the Holy See and the new Nazi government that was signed in July 1933 contained explicit directions for the future governance of this chaplaincy. It made this service directly responsible to the pope and gave the chaplains independence from any guidance or authority from the local German bishops. It also included a secret clause for the possible reintroduction of military conscription whereby Catholic clergy would be directed to the pastoral care of the troops or else drafted into the army’s medical service. This agreement cleared the way for the appointment of the Catholic field bishop, Franz Justus Rarkowski who, although not a Nazi Party member, was known as an ardent supporter of the chief planks of Nazi ideology—particularly the restoration of Germany’s greatness, the strident opposition to Bolshevism, and the drive to enhance German racial purity that included its antisemitic component. Rarkowski’s appointment was, however, opposed by several of the diocesan German bishops who felt he lacked the necessary academic qualifications for episcopal rank. He was never invited to the regular meetings of the German Catholic hierarchy and in fact proved to be an ineffectual leader, unable to take a strong stand in defense of his agency. He was rated to be weak and easily controlled, and suffered from bouts of ill health that led to his retirement in early 1945. Georg Werthmann, his deputy or field vicar-general, was a much stauncher character. Fortunately, he survived the 1945 disaster and took refuge in a Bavarian monastery. During his internment there, he drafted a large series of notes about the chaplaincy, which were to be used for a future book. These extensive notes have survived and have provided Rossi with a “treasure trove” that she has lucidly and skillfully exploited. These sources give us a clear indication of the numbers involved, which were astonishingly miniscule. The total number of Catholic priests in the chaplaincy was only 545, including those who were taken prisoner or were dismissed. The highest number in the field at any one time was only 390 in summer 1941. Given the fact that millions of young Germans, many of them Catholics, were conscripted, this disparity was striking and was made only worse at the end of 1942, when the Party officials prohibited the recruitment of any new chaplains. In fact, according to Werthmann’s estimate, at least 11,000 priests served in the medical ranks but were forbidden to officiate as priests or even to say their daily Mass in private. 952 BOOK REVIEWS The question posed by this author is: how did these priests and seminarians reconcile their loyalty to their Catholic training with the reality of a criminal war fought with the utmost barbarity, especially in Eastern Europe? Her answer is that the claims of German nationalism were so strong that they reacted to the circumstances with indifference, reluctance, or resignation but rarely with protest and never with open resistance. Instead, they were to argue that their priority was to serve their fellow German troops pastorally and uphold them in the perils of combat. Such commendable dedication has to be balanced by their total lack of regret about their experiences. In the aftermath, they virtually all claimed that they had not heard of, let alone participated in, the atrocities committed by the German armies against civilians, especially Jews. These priests were therefore easily persuaded to support the widespread myth of the postwar years: that the Wehrmacht had fought a “clean” war and that atrocities were committed solely by the extreme Nazified units such as the SS. But even more pertinently, Rossi deplores the fact that these priests failed to act, neglected to speak, and proved incapable of facing the facts that their accommodation or compromise with a racist, genocidal regime contradicted everything their faith stood for. It is a telling indictment. University of British Columbia (Emeritus) JOHN S. CONWAY AMERICAN AND CANADIAN Stephen Larigaudelle Dubuisson, S.J. (1786–1864), and the Reform of the American Jesuits. By Cornelius Michael Buckley, S.J. (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, an imprint of Rowman & Littlefield. 2013. Pp. xx, 304. $80.00. ISBN 978-0-7618-6231-4.) A career-long project, this biography is a richly contextualized, perceptive, and engaging account of the double-émigré French Jesuit who played a key but little recognized role in the re-establishment of the Society of Jesus in the United States in the early national period. Dubuisson was born on a plantation in the Saint Marc parish of SaintDomingue in October 1786, a few years before the revolution on the island that sent racial shock waves throughout the Atlantic world. Taken to a France in the midst of its own revolution, Dubuisson’s childhood exposure to these apocalyptic events left deep psychological scars for the rest of his life. His membership, as an adolescent, in a devotional society much like the sodalities of the Jesuits sowed the seeds of his religious life and likely provided the contact for his entry into Napoleon’s Treasury Department. By 1814, he was high enough in the bureaucracy of the Tuileries to be part of the empress’s caravan that fled Paris in late March 1814 as the imperial coalition moved in for the kill of Napoleon’s empire. Eighteen months later he sailed for the United States, having settled on the Maryland Mission of the Society of Jesus as the place he would devote his life to the priestly ministry and the spreading of God’s kingdom. BOOK REVIEWS 953 For the next two decades Dubuisson worked in parishes and colleges in the District of Columbia, Frederick (Maryland), and Philadelphia. In Washington, his spirited, finely tuned sermons at St. Patrick’s drew large congregations of all classes. Even more productive for the Church was his promotion of the miraculous cure of Ann Mattingly, a parishioner who had been at death’s door from cancer and other ailments. That “digitus Dei,” as Dubuisson referred to the Mattingly cure and the other wondrous healings he became associated with over the next decade and more, was a large factor in the many conversions or reclamations to the faith that were attributed to Dubuisson. Conversely, his appointments at Georgetown, including a very brief stint as rector of the institution, were a disaster. In 1826 he was sent to Rome, where he emerged as the “maker and shaper” of the Maryland Mission. Dubuisson began as the secretary to Jesuit Superior General Luigi Fortis and, more important, as his informal adviser on American affairs. For the remainder of his life, he was the Superior General’s chief American adviser, particularly after the election of Jan Roothaan in 1829. Either in America, to which he returned for six years in 1830, or Europe, where he functioned as chaplain and fund-raiser extraordinaire for the Society of Jesus in America among the royal courts and noble families, Dubuisson was probably the most influential individual in determining appointments as well as policies for the Society of Jesus in America. But, as the author notes in his introduction, this is more than a biography. It is, as well, “an account of the reform the American Jesuits went through during [Dubuisson’s] lifetime. I have used him as a synecdoche of the elusive Ignatian way. . . .” (p. xi). A hyper-orthodox ideology frames for Buckley a Jesuit spirituality rooted in a Rome-directed observance of the Institute and Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. For Buckley, the key to reform is “essentially ecclesial, the nature of the hierarchical Church under the pope in Rome and how Jesuits fit into that structure” (p. 119). In this Rome-centric view of the Church, the pope is the ultimate authority; in the limited sphere of the Society of Jesus within this ecclesiastical world, the Superior General holds a position vis-à-vis his subjects that the pontiff has over all believers. Dubuisson, in the author’s view, became the Superior General’s chief instrument in carrying out the reformation of the Society of Jesus in the United States. Buckley sees that the goal had been reached by mid-century. The Ignatian spirit was restored; Maryland was a reformed province. To this reviewer, that timetable seems too short, the direction of reform too unilateral. From Andrew White and the first generation of Jesuits in British America, there had been a struggle to bring the Ignatian tradition to an American society that was more than an ocean away from the Old World in which the order had taken shape—a struggle to balance heritage and environment, to cultivate a perspective that valued both Rome and America, and to meet the challenge posed by the Ignatian principle of adapting one’s ways and means according to circumstances. Ironically, Dubuisson, despite his ultramontanist instincts, came to appreciate the importance of the local environment in shaping one’s apostolates and behavior, if one were to give new life to the Ignatian tradition in a new land. Georgetown University (Emeritus) ROBERT EMMETT CURRAN 954 BOOK REVIEWS Harriet Beecher Stowe: A Spiritual Life. By Nancy Koester. [Library of Religious Biography.] (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2014. Pp. xii, 371. $24.00 paperback. ISBN 978-0-8028-3304-4.). Nancy Koester’s Spiritual Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811–96) is deceptive, for it is so much more than a spiritual biography. It aims to demonstrate that Stowe’s spiritual journey and her literary journey are fully integrated. Accordingly, she presents a comprehensive overview of Stowe’s major works (although the discussion of Oldtown Folks [Boston, 1869]—the most important in terms of her theology—receives fairly short shrift as if it were merely a tract on the value of humanism in theology). The performance is stunningly intelligent, demonstrating in Stowe both a spirit of liberation (from inherited doctrine) and submission (to a refined understanding of gospel truth). The account of Uncle Tom in Uncle Tom’s Cabin (Boston, 1852) as the visible symbol of the gospel truth that for a man to lay down his life for his friends is the noblest act reflects the complete melding of Stowe’s political philosophy and her religious creed. The importance of that observation, however, is to underscore the truth that there is no inherent tension between political and religious ideals. Accordingly, Stowe’s political projects have been accounted for in terms wholly consonant with her religious principles, although Stowe’s religious sentiments were continually changing during the period in which her political sentiments matured. She migrated from an older version of New England Congregationalist belief to an embrace of more liturgical forms, without ever losing her sure grasp of the fundamentals of republican politics. At one point Stowe makes a trenchant observation in her last novel, Poganuc People: Their Loves and Lives (New York, 1878), which helps account for the progress of her moral pilgrimage: The New Testament gives a glorified ideal of a possible human life, but hard are his labors who tasks himself to keep that ideal uppermost among average human beings. The coarse, the low, the mean, the vulgar is ever thrusting itself before the higher and more delicate nature, and claiming, in virtue of its very brute strength, to be the true reality. (p. 251) Koester has chronicled the reconciliation of the glorified ideal and the brute reality not only in the work but also in the person of Stowe. This is a work of beauty and inspiration, well written, meticulously researched, and probingly challenging to hackneyed orthodoxies. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the argument for Stowe’s progressive views of race. Although it is questionable whether the theory of her being under the influence of “romantic realism,” as presented on the authority of Joan Hedrick, it is unchallengeable that Stowe offers diverse views of race, even within the African race, as opposed to a onedimensional caricature (p. 115). Nor is it true that Tom can be accurately described BOOK REVIEWS 955 as “docile,” albeit he does not strike out on a path of physical escape. Tom’s prudence (in dealing with the slave-trader Haley), trust (in dealing with the indulgent slave-holder St. Clare), and outright defiance (in dealing with the brutal slaveholder Legree) all combine to describe a character well-delineated for its strength and judiciousness. Tom explains his reason for not escaping (while counseling escape to others such as Eliza in the opening of the novel and Cassy at the close of the novel) in terms of his self-conscious determination to sacrifice himself for the good of others. That reflects not docility but the “greatest love.” It should be noted that Koester takes Senator Bird from Uncle Tom’s Cabin to be a U.S. senator (p. 135), whereas he is clearly a state senator, as he has participated in state legislation aiming to enforce the Fugitive Slave Law within Ohio. This is, however, a negligible matter that does not mar Koester’s impressive work. Michigan State University W. B. ALLEN Gettysburg Religion: Refinement, Diversity, and Race in the Antebellum and Civil War Border North. By Steve Longenecker. (New York: Fordham University Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 246. $45.00. ISBN 978-0-8232-5519-1.) Steve Longenecker clearly loves the subject he writes about here, and the reader benefits accordingly. He treats the religious life of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, during the years immediately before, during, and after the great battle that made the small town famous. Gettysburg religious life—or rather lives, for diversity is emphasized—displayed remarkable variety, and Longenecker treats every denomination he covers with interest and respect. Each of the varieties of Gettysburg Christianity was represented by a single congregation. (There was no synagogue.) The records of these parish churches form a substantial part of the sources for this study. The author also delves into the histories of individual families and persons, enabling him to alternate between chapters describing general developments and brief divertimenti focused on particular individuals, usually obscure, often with poignant stories. He points out that Gettysburg had many immigrants and children of immigrants, so that ethnic differences often compounded religious ones. The most conspicuous development identified by Longenecker among the mainstream evangelical Protestant churches—Presbyterian, Methodist, and Lutheran—is their gradual religious “refinement,” a response to the growing prosperity of the middle class in Victorian times. This refinement took such forms as more expensive physical plants and clerical training, pipe organs, choirs, and Sunday schools. But much of the author’s interest lies in the denominations that were not exactly mainstream. Among Gettysburg’s various denominations were the Roman Catholics, most of them German by birth or ancestry. Longenecker describes them as “on the edges of the mainstream” (p. 87). He goes on to describe the distinctive qualities of Catholic religion that put them on that edge, including emphasis on sacraments, 956 BOOK REVIEWS devotions, use of Latin, and especially authoritarianism rather than republicanism. He goes on to discuss antebellum anti-Catholicism and the Know-Nothing political party, which drew support from both the major parties, Whigs and Democrats, of that era. He illustrates both Catholic and anti-Catholic opinion from sermons and the printed media. But in the end, he concludes that the most remarkable thing about Gettysburg Catholicism was the degree of toleration it received from the Protestant majority. The absence of antislavery in American Catholicism he attributes to Catholic reluctance to jeopardize this measure of tolerance by supporting an unpopular cause. Other denominations outside the Gettysburg mainstream included the Dunkers and the African Methodist Episcopal Zion church—both ethnic denominations, for the Dunkers were overwhelmingly German. Dunkers got the name from their practice of immersion baptism, in which the convert was dunked three times for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Faithful to the simplicity of early Christianity, they remained resolutely aloof from the growing refinement of mainline evangelical churches. They practiced feet-washing to affirm the equality of all members—although Longenecker notes that some white Dunkers shrank from kissing black converts after washing their feet. The AME Zion parish, small and impoverished, nevertheless provided local blacks with a supportive religious community. But it took a big hit when the great battle came to Gettysburg. Many of its members fled the area, fearful of the invading Confederate soldiers, who would capture and enslave black people they found, even those legally free. The refugees did not necessarily return to Gettysburg afterward; yet the church somehow reconstituted itself and survived into postwar times. Longenecker has produced a beautifully written book, beginning with its charming introduction. He finds Gettysburg interesting not only for its own sake but also as reflecting its region, “the Lower North.” More broadly, he also finds Gettysburg an example of the United States as a whole and of the process of modernization, which Gettysburg illustrates on an intimate scale. But while using local history to illustrate broad themes, such as the process of middle-class refinement, the author retains his interest in the idiosyncratic and individual. Longenecker has written a democratic history from the ground up and deserves our congratulations. University of California, Los Angeles (Emeritus) DANIEL WALKER HOWE A Church with the Soul of a Nation: Making and Remaking the United Church of Canada. By Phyllis D. Airhart. [McGill-Queen’s Studies in the History of Religion, series 2, no. 67.] (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press. 2014. Pp. xx, 440. C$34.95 paperback. ISBN 978-0-7735-4249-5.) As Canada’s largest Protestant church and the product of the world’s first modern ecumenical organic union in 1925, the United Church of Canada has always attracted opinionated attention. Was this new entity a creedless and convenient merger, shamelessly consolidating Protestant power (Methodist, Presbyterian, BOOK REVIEWS 957 and Congregationalist) to counteract a growing Roman Catholic population? Or was it a daring and noble experiment in cooperation based on progressive Christian theology and values? Did United Church membership plummet in the 1960s because of its godless accommodation to culture, because of its failure to accommodate a changing culture, or because of its brave honesty in confronting new theological and social issues? Scholars, journalists, and armchair critics have been happy to render judgment. Phyllis Airhart, professor of the history of Christianity at Emmanuel College in the University of Toronto, enters the fray with A Church with the Soul of a Nation. Although the book covers familiar ground in its treatment of the denomination’s first four decades, it is distinctive for its depth and breadth of research and analysis. The title, a clever riff on historian Sidney Mead’s description of America as “a nation with the soul of a church,” sets out Airhart’s premise: that the United Church’s founders were attempting to build a church that would faithfully serve and support Canada’s growth to national maturity. Although this is not a new claim, Airhart argues that this allegedly bold new union project was actually an extension of nineteenth-century Protestant expansionism, to be viewed retrospectively as quaint and “quixotic.” Its founders were only “accidental innovators” as they sought to create a church that would unify a vast geography with its scattered and increasingly diverse population. The book elucidates the ways that United Church leaders sought to make sense of their complicated inheritance. The chapters are at once chronological and thematic, taking us into the minds and hearts of those charged with guiding the national church’s life as they faced evolving challenges. These included the bitter divide with the 30 percent of Presbyterians who stayed out of the union; the ravages of the economic depression of 1930s; dramatic shifts in the nature of overseas and Canadian missions; the rise of the social welfare state—that the United Church had helped to foster but that left the denomination with a dwindling social role; postwar success that masked deepening fissures; and the rapid decline of numbers and influence in the tumultuous 1960s. Airhart demonstrates that the United Church’s leadership was far from godless, but that attempts at faithful responses, in a church that sought to be “broad and moderate,” often missed the mark as the century unfolded. Although ultimately fair, the book’s negative thesis—that the United Church of Canada was outdated at birth—does lead to an emphasis on gloom. There are, for example, long hostile quotations from letters to the church magazine’s editor and reports of individuals or congregations who rejected particular programs, without evidence that these were majority opinions. However, in the final chapter, when Airhart asks, “Was the making of the United Church a mistake?”, her response is careful and nuanced. A question posed by missionary Katharine Hockin in the 1960s may best encapsulate the denomination’s conundrum: “Can it be that God is active in our world in ways that may not always be to our advantage?” St. Andrew’s College Saskatoon, Canada SANDRA BEARDSALL 958 BOOK REVIEWS The Juvenilization of American Christianity. By Thomas E. Bergler. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2012. Pp. x, 281. $25.00 paperback. ISBN 978-0-8028-6684-4.) Thomas E. Bergler has written an important book for the historian of American Christianity. Beginning in the 1940s, Bergler takes the reader on an historical journey through the development of youth ministry and youth culture in the United States to outline the origins and process of the juvenilization of American Christianity and “how it has benefitted and hurt each of the major streams of Christianity in America” (p. 7). Along the way, Bergler draws upon archival documents, national publications, published memoirs, and the work of sociologists and historians. He does not intend to blame youth ministry for the current state of American Christianity; nor does he intend to explain how to eliminate juvenilization. Rather, he hopes “that by understanding where we have come from and how we got here, we might be able to choose the best paths forward” (p. 7). In his introduction, “We’re All Adolescents Now,” Bergler examines adolescence in American culture and briefly defines adolescent Christianity as “any way of understanding, experiencing, or practicing the Christian faith that conforms to the patterns of adolescence in American culture” (p. 8). He then continues by offering a brief overview of the process of juvenilization and examining the current state of American Christianity. In chapter 1, “Youth, Christianity, and the Crisis of Civilization,” he examines the perceived crisis of civilization in the 1940s that provided the impetus for the development of youth ministry, before introducing his four study groups: (1) Mainline Protestants represented by the Methodist Episcopal Church, (2) Evangelical Protestants as seen in Youth for Christ, (3) Roman Catholics and the American bishops’ Catholic Youth Organization program, and (4) African Americans of the Baptist denomination. He opens chapter 2, “Misreading the Signs of the Times: From Political Youth to Trivial Teenagers” with a discussion of the developing youth culture of the late 1940s and 1950s before looking closely at each group’s response to the cultural shifts that put American Christianity on the path to juvenilization. The next four chapters look at each group’s approach to youth ministry from the 1950s through the early1960s. Chapter 3 examines liberal Protestantism’s failure to move youth to Christian political action as it effectively undermined youth’s view of organized religion. Chapter 4 chronicles the crucial role that African American churches played in the civil rights movement as they placed their emphasis upon and hope in young people’s willingness to fight. Chapter 5 focuses on the American Catholic Church’s supportive network of parishes, schools, and national youth programs that formed youth in the faith. Chapter 6 returns to evangelical Protestantism, analyzing its continued success in adapting to the ever-changing youth culture even as some ministers worried about the cost of cultural adaptation. Chapter 7 elucidates the connection between the youth ministry of the 1940s and 1950s and the seemingly sudden juvenilization of the American Christianity. Chapter 8, “The Triumph and Taming of Juvenilization,” offers a timely and keen analysis of the state of American Christianity and suggestions for dealing with it. BOOK REVIEWS 959 Although Bergler focuses on youth ministry, the college professor will benefit from a careful reading of The Juvenilization of American Christianity, especially the final chapter. His work offers insights into college students’ experiences and perceptions of Christianity and suggestions that professors may want to keep in mind when structuring courses and leading classroom discussions. Without straying into the arena of campus ministry, professors can help students to develop an understanding of Christianity beyond what Christian Smith labeled “Moralistic, Therapeutic Deism” (p. 219). Mount Mary College Yankton, SD HELEN CIERNICK Struggle, Condemnation, Vindication: John Courtney Murray’s Journey Toward Vatican II. By Barry Hudock. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press. 2013. Pp. xxx,185. $19.95 paperback. ISBN 978-0-8146-8322-4.) This reviewer was both intrigued and skeptical when the author claimed in the introduction that “this is a theological adventure story” (p. xxiv). It is difficult to imagine the quiet, scholarly, and scrupulous John Courtney Murray as the subject of an “adventure” in the more common understanding of the term. Nevertheless, by the end of this concise and readable account of Murray’s life, Hudock’s characterization is convincing. Those who have worked with the Murray corpus for decades are all too familiar with Donald E. Pelotte’s authoritative biography, and many might have questioned the need for another historical survey of Murray’s life and work. However, this book represents a substantially fresh perspective on Murray’s archival record from someone who was not a contemporary. It is a contextual reading of Murray from the vantage point of several generations removed from the events described and from the controversies that arose around Murray’s work in the last two decades of the twentieth century. For this reason, one could argue that this book has the advantage of understanding Murray and his work from a sufficient historical distance, and for this reason, the controversies and scandals of those eras have much less influence on the way the story is told and the way the theology is interpreted. Although the book does not claim to be breaking new ground in Murray research, it is a treasure trove of information about Murray and his opponents, especially Msgr. Joseph Clifford Fenton, Redemptorist priest Francis Connell, and Cardinal Alfredo Ottaviani. Hudock excels at reconstructing the conversations on both sides of the Catholic religious-liberty issue—before, during, and after the Second Vatican Council. It is particularly illuminating when it reviews and analyzes the personal journals and confidential correspondence of those immersed in these conversations. So, although the author is forthcoming that the purpose of the book is not to introduce new archival information on Murray’s life or offer a novel interpretation of Murray’s work, it nevertheless presents the reader with a remarkably lucid introduction to the life and work of the most influential American Catholic theologian. 960 BOOK REVIEWS For this reason, the book might be used with students and other uninitiated readers to give an overview of Murray’s life and career, and introduce the various theological themes and controversies that were the hallmarks of his life’s work. The weaknesses of the book are minor in comparison to the previously mentioned virtues. One shortcoming is the thin treatment of Americanism regarding how it both deeply influenced Murray and dogged him as a convenient condemnation of his work. The dismissal of Murray by his opponents via the category of Americanism was personally vexing for Murray, and he expended a great deal of time and effort trying to demonstrate that the Church, in many ways, had always tacitly endorsed what he called the American proposition. Overall, the book is a resounding success at offering the Murray neophyte a current, lucid, and extremely well-written overview of Murray’s life and work. It also offers the seasoned Murray scholar a fresh interpretation of Murray within the context of mid-twentieth century American Catholic theology and its impact on the proceedings of the Second Vatican Council. De Paul University THOMAS O’BRIEN The Twilight of the American Enlightenment: The 1950s and the Crisis of Liberal Belief. By George M. Marsden. (New York: Basic Books. 2014. Pp. xl, 219. $26.99. ISBN 978-0-465-03010-1.) For two decades George M. Marsden, a leading historian of American religion, has argued that evangelical scholars like himself—along with other theists— receive insufficient respect from secular colleagues. In this book focusing on intellectual life since World War II, he attempts to explain the origins of this alleged inequity. Marsden emphasizes what is usually called the fifties, which he rightly sees as a time of “great cultural anxiety and uncertainty” (p. xii) despite unprecedented (although unevenly distributed) prosperity. His central theme is that leading cultural critics were trying to “preserve the ideals of the American enlightenment while discarding its foundations” (p. xv). As events since the early chronological sixties showed, this effort failed. To make his case, Marsden’s strings together brief examinations of significant social thinkers, cultural artifacts, and popular controversies. Perhaps because Marsden wants to reach the proverbial intelligent general reader, most of his stories will be familiar to historians. These include the postSputnik quest for a “national purpose”; pervasive use of psychological rather than economic concepts to explain the ups and down of everyday life; triumph of the “vital center” in the social sciences along with inadequate efforts by self-conscious centrists like Daniel Bell to understand immoderate activists like Senator Joseph McCarthy (R–WI); ubiquitous critics of conformity ranging from William H. Whyte to Betty Friedan; debate about the impact of “mass culture” escalated because ordinary Americans loved television; and religious developments, including BOOK REVIEWS 961 ritualistic public piety based on an “undefined common theism” (p. 108); a transition from fundamentalism to evangelicalism, the latest vogue of positive thinking; the ironies of Reinhold Niebuhr; and Martin Luther King Jr.’s adaptation of the social gospel. The treatment of rival psychological theorists Carl Rogers and B. F. Skinner is especially interesting. Marsden also deserves credit for rediscovering the insightful critic Joseph Wood Krutch. His worst lapses are an underestimation of religious conflict and inattention to the frequently hyped intellectual “new conservatism.” Marsden’s reminders of failed predictions—notably the health benefits of smoking and safe nuclear energy too cheap to meter—are the most fun. The book becomes both more tendentious and more formulaic when Marsden reaches the alleged twilight of common premises. He has always sensibly seen an intersection in American history between religious faith with its emphasis on God’s grace and an Enlightenment commitment to science broadly construed. Both sides believed in the possibility of discovering some absolute truth. Since the 1960s, this shared if tenuous “absolute”—previously threatened by Deweyite pragmatists, historicists, and existentialists—has been rejected far and wide. To make this point, Marsden alludes to Thomas Kuhn, postmodernism, and so-called culture wars but devotes most space to the fall of the de facto Protestant establishment and compensatory rise of a “populist” Christian right with intellectual standards inferior to Enlightenment-tinged evangelicalism. Despite the recent resurgence of “seculars” reported in numerous polls, it remains to be seen whether or not these trends represent a watershed or just another cataract in the river of American religion. Marsden cannot make up his mind. He concedes that a “sizable minority” of Americans remains “seriously religious” (p. 158). Anyone with an interest in public life, a television, and a willingness to delete the adverb seriously would write “sizable majority.” Yet, as has been the case for twenty years, Marsden’s main complaint is that Enlightenment-tinged evangelical scholars like himself should not be second-class citizens in the academy. The real issues are metaphysical or epistemological rather than sociological. These cannot be addressed let alone resolved in a brief review. Suffice it to say that all scholars should consider interesting ideas from anyone regardless of his or her foundational beliefs (or lack thereof). LEO P. RIBUFFO George Washington University LATIN AMERICAN The Bishop’s Utopia: Envisioning Improvement in Colonial Peru. By Emily Berquist Soule. [The Early Modern Americas.] (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2014. Pp. xii, 287. $45.00. ISBN 978-0-8122-4591-2.) Through the 1770s and 1780s Bishop Baltasar Jaime Martínez Compañon produced an extraordinary record of the people, flora, and fauna of his bishopric, Trujillo (Peru). Eager to foment his diocese’s economy and to “civilize” its people, whom he deemed still to languish in barbarity after two centuries of Spanish tute- 962 BOOK REVIEWS lage, Martinez proposed major expansions in education, new towns, and a sweeping plan to develop the region’s silver mines. He also compiled a vast natural-history collection from the jungles, highlands, and coast, and commissioned 1372 watercolors of his territory. When he was named archbishop of Santa Fe de Bogotá in 1788, he shipped these to Spain, where the specimens were dispersed among royal collections and lost. However, the watercolors, collected as the nine-volume Trujillo del Perú (Madrid, 1978–94), survive in the Spanish royal library. Emily Berquist Soule’s study brings much merited attention to this intriguing man and his intellectual project. Providing a useful biography of Martínez, The Bishop’s Utopia locates the bishop’s collection and watercolors in his larger reformist ambitions. For although Martínez’s collections were extraordinary in their time, the bishop himself well fits the model of the Spanish enlightenment bureaucrat. A Navarrese noble who had studied law in Aragon and Guipúzcoa, Martínez gathered information and promoted order and economic development in his Peruvian see. His plans for Trujillo were far from radical: indeed, they were a late-Bourbon attempt to enact Toledan ideals, of self-governing Indian pueblos, broad rural education, and state intervention to promote silver mining. The author focuses on the bishop’s efforts to found towns, build schools, and to expand mining in the bishopric without resort to a mita (enforced service) Good use of local archives allows the author to locate these efforts in local politics, which receive more attention than the illustrations of Trujillo del Perú. A selection of these do provide insight into Martínez’s vision, although using close readings of commissioned watercolors as a guide to the bishop’s “utopianism” requires greater methodological explication. In the end, the bishop’s effects on Trujillan society were less impressive than the archive he produced: only a few villages and schools endured past the bishop’s departure for Santa Fe. Nonetheless, Martínez’s efforts offer a useful case study of late-Bourbon reformism in Peru and its limits. Unfortunately, The Bishop’s Utopia devotes relatively little attention to locating Martínez in the rich tradition of colonial Spanish reformism, particularly within the Church. Instead, the author attempts to locate Martínez’s archive and his larger agenda in an ill-defined tradition of sixteenth-century utopianism that includes both the humanist fantasies of Thomas More and Francis Bacon, and the Franciscan evangelical enterprise in Mexico (although not the more relevant Jesuit communities in the viceroyalty of Peru). The resultant slippage between utopianism and reformism lessens the analytical rigor of the study and misrepresents both Martínez’s rather mundane attempts to “civilize” Trujillo and stimulate the regional economy, and the political and intellectual character of early-modern utopian works. Although the bishop emerges here as a fascinating figure committed to both knowing and improving his bishopric, greater attention to centuries-long traditions in Peru of both arbitrismo and interest in the natural world would have made this study more useful to scholars of Spanish and Peruvian intellectual history. Reed College DAVID T. GARRETT BOOK REVIEWS 963 The Vatican and Catholic Activism in Mexico and Chile: The Politics of Transnational Catholicism, 1920–1940. By Stephen J. C. Andes. [Oxford Historical Monographs.] (New York: Oxford University Press. 2014. Pp. xiv, 250. $99.00. ISBN 978-0-19-968848-7.) Stephen Andes’s excellent study of transnational Catholic politics in Mexico, Chile, and Rome connects two national histories to interwar Vatican diplomacy. The book is rigorously transnational in methodology, too, and plumbs Mexican, Chilean, and Vatican archives. Thematically, Andes offers a politico-diplomatic history of the “Romanization” of Latin American Churches, a theme that the historiography usually addresses with reference to cultural topics and earlier periods. Andes makes an original intervention by illuminating a critical phase in which Catholics aimed to build a neo-Christendom, so discomforting national governments if not Rome itself. Superior Vatican sources also give him access to the corridors of political power, substantiating a convincing thesis of attrition and laicization. On one hand, he argues, Rome pursued an unwavering strategy from Leo XIII’s papacy, canalizing Catholics away from radical confessional parties into civic bodies (especially Catholic Action). The reduction of autonomous organizations, furthermore, increased Rome’s political bargaining power, with the papacy emerging as essential state interlocutor. Counter-intuitively, Andes concludes that the differentiation of Catholics’ political/religious lives facilitated the growth of Christian Democracy by getting the Church out of politics; henceforth, secular parties could draw inspiration from Catholic doctrine without implicating the institution. The book first charts the revamping of the nunciature system and creation of an Ecclesiastical Affairs section as the means through which Vatican elites engaged secular governments and dominated episcopates. Core chapters describe an “intraecclesial power struggle” (p. 4) between Roman and Latin American Catholicisms. Three chapters on Mexico trace the rise of a headstrong social Catholicism through Jesuit-run bodies like the Social Secretariat or the secret brotherhood of the “U.” By the end, we see how Ecclesiastical Affairs pressured the bishops to curb such militancy in the interests of a Church-state modus vivendi. Andes has fascinating finds concerning the role of Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli, who compelled Mexican lay leaders to obedience in New York in 1936; he reveals how intense Vatican pressure was brought to bear on Leopoldo Ruiz as Mexico’s homegrown (and often despised) apostolic delegate. By 1938, then, the division of Catholic activism into nonconfessional parties and pious organizations accountable to Rome was achieved. To Andes’s credit, he is even-handed in his discussion of Chile. Here, an outmoded Conservative Party used to shielding the Church stood between Rome and a concordat. In these chapters, we see another division by the 1930s with younger Catholics embracing Catholic Action as a sociopolitical alternative to conservatism. The book closes with a valuable first study of the 1933 Iberoamerican Congress, attended by political Catholics such as Eduardo Frei and Manuel Ulloa. The congress, Andes argues, encapsulated Rome’s attempt to form loyal political cadres across Latin America, although its long-term impact is less clear. 964 BOOK REVIEWS In sum, Andes stresses Rome’s gravitational pull and pragmatism: the wager that a centralized accommodation of states––even Mexico’s––would eventually win toleration for Catholics, so was preferable to allowing national Churches to mobilize freely. This is no top-down reading, however, but a nuanced account of how the terms of Catholic politics were internally renegotiated along transnational circuits in ways that tipped in Rome’s favor. One famous example must suffice: Andes shows that Rome’s decision to negotiate with the Mexican government to end the Cristero revolt was not autocratic bad faith but a reflection of its long-term aspirations for the region, of changes in Vatican politics (the ascendancy of moderates under Cardinal Pietro Gasparri), and of its sense of the balance of power in Mexican and U.S. Catholic circles. If the drift was toward Rome, contingencies, conjectures, and coalition politics abounded. Of course, the book is not perfect. Andes’s diplomatic sources minimize the domestic friction generated by nunciature politics. Latin American Catholics’ ability to inflect Rome’s agenda sometimes feels downplayed, as with Leopoldo Ruiz’s and Pascual Diaz’s 1927 Roman mission (p. 99). The transnational focus is most effective when dealing with Rome’s interactions with Mexico or Chile; the chapter arguing for an interregional base to the Roman “triangle” is less compelling, and the closing impression is of discrete, pre-CELAM Churches vulnerable to Roman intervention. Finally, state histories need factoring into any discussion of the secular sphere, although the point about Catholicism’s role in its creation is well taken. These caveats are the vices of the book’s virtues, particularly its transnational scope and wonderful sources. Over all, this is a fine study, comparative and transnational; it gives real insights into how the Vatican centralized political dialogue with the Latin American states, recouping the political capital of social Catholicism and finessing the local contours of Church and state in the process. University of Texas at Austin MATTHEW BUTLER The Rebirth of Latin American Christianity. By Todd Hartch. [Oxford Studies in World Christianity Series.] (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014. Pp. xvi, 278. $24.95. ISBN 978-0-19-984313-8.) Pundits and scholars frequently note the rise of Protestantism, especially Pentecostalism, in Latin America. One of the most influential examples was David Stoll’s Is Latin America Turning Protestant? (Berkeley, 1990). Todd Hartch’s new book documents the Pentecostal advance as well as the ongoing competition for adherents between Catholics and Protestants. But Hartch also contends that “Protestants proved much better at conversion that at retention” (p. 55), underscoring that Protestants also struggle to retain members who are attracted to other Protestant denominations, to Catholicism, to other religions, or to no religious practice. Thus, although proportionally Protestant gain and Catholic loss has marked the recent history of Latin American Christianity, the overriding dynamic is the advent of a religious culture of choice that impels all religious groups to engage their adherents actively. Indeed, the rising Protestant tide “served as a cat- BOOK REVIEWS 965 alyst to Catholic revitalization” (p. 56). It animated numerous Catholic pastors and lay leaders to fortify the cultural Catholicism of previous eras with apostolic initiatives that foster Catholicism as an intentional way of life. Hartch notes that Catholic revitalization movements have reached the full range of Catholics, from the poor to the rich, the politically progressive to the conservative, the ordained and religious to the laity. These new developments include the emergence of a prophetic Christianity associated with liberation theology, the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, Catholic Action, base ecclesial communities, and new ecclesial movements like Focolare, the Sant’Egidio Community, and Opus Dei. Although the noteworthy influence of liberation theology has rightly garnered much attention, Hartch accentuates the simultaneous impact of other initiatives. He notes, for example, that as of 2000 some 75 million Latin American Catholics were participating in the Charismatic Renewal, outnumbering the 66 million Latin American Pentecostals and composing what the late Dominican scholar of Latin American affairs Edward Cleary deemed “the most important religious movement in Latin America” (p. 113). In fact, despite many ongoing challenges, the renewal of Catholicism in Latin America has resulted in an unprecedented global influence of Latin American theologies, religious practices, and lay and ordained missionaries. The major critique of this reviewer regarding this book is the treatment of popular religion. Echoing a widespread judgment of popular Catholicism, Hartch contends that “in focusing on saints, rituals, and holy days, many Catholics lost sight of (or never knew) the radical nature of their religion, such as its calls for justice, charity, and world evangelization” (p. 167). It is not clear how this claim corresponds to Hartch’s subsequent and overwhelmingly positive summary of the influence of devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe beyond Mexico and Latin America. Moreover, while not denying the limitations of popular Catholicism, many scholars, pastors, and popes since Pope Paul VI in Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975) have noted how popular religion often fosters evangelical virtues, a sacramental worldview, a communitarian ethos, and hope and endurance amidst intense suffering. Hartch is not alone in his criticism of popular religion, but his assessment would be stronger if he responded to these counterarguments. Nonetheless, this is a superb book that provides a highly readable introduction to Christianity in Latin America over the past half century. Hartch deftly interweaves broad analysis with concrete case studies that illuminate his major theses. He examines both the efforts of ecclesiastical officials as well as grassroots leaders and movements, particularly the often-underemphasized role of local lay leaders. The Rebirth of Latin American Christianity is strongly recommended for graduate and advanced undergraduate classes on Latin American or world Christianity, as well as for anyone interested in the seismic shift of Christianity to the global south. University of Notre Dame TIMOTHY MATOVINA 966 BOOK REVIEWS AFRICAN Missions chrétiennes en terre d’islam, Moyen-Orient, Afrique du Nord (XVII e–XX e siècles): Anthologie de textes missionnaires. Edited by Chantal Verdeil. (Turnhout: Brepols. 2013. Pp. 407. €50,00. ISBN: 978-2-503-52649-2.) From the seventeenth century through the twentieth, Chantal Verdeil explains in her introduction to this excellent volume, Christian missionaries who ventured into the Islamic societies of the Middle East and North Africa rarely converted members of the Muslim majority. Instead, Catholic and later Protestant missionaries almost always converted people who were Christian already—if indeed “conversion” is the right word to describe the shift of, say, a Maronite Catholic in Lebanon to Latin Catholicism or of an Armenian in Turkey to some form of Protestantism. The goal of this volume is to explore this paradox: the tension between missionaries’ aspirations to convert Muslims and the reality of the circumstances that prevented them from doing so. It does so while examining the writings of Catholic and Protestant missionaries who came from France, Italy, Sweden, Great Britain, and the United States and who variously worked in the “land of Islam” from the early 1700s to the late 1930s. Arising from an interdisciplinary research group sponsored by the Institut Catholique de Paris, this volume belongs to a series that anthologizes missionary writings. The book begins with a superb introduction that surveys major trends in and debates about the history of Catholic and Protestant missions in the heartlands of the Islamic world. Seven strong chapters then follow; these are the work of a distinguished group of scholars based at French, Swiss, and Dutch institutions. Each chapter analyzes the work of missionaries in a particular region while presenting a selection of primary-source documents—mostly reports and letters from archives— that shed light on missionaries’ engagement with, or attitudes toward, Muslims and Islamic societies, often in the context of their work among local Christians and sometimes also Jews. The missionaries presented here were diverse, and yet striking similarities in their attitudes and concerns connect them in ways that give coherence to this volume. In her essay on late-nineteenth- and early-twentieth-century Iran, for example, Florence Hellot surveys the challenges that both French Lazarist and American Presbyterian missionaries faced when including Muslim students in schools alongside children who came from the very small and beleaguered local Christian communities that missionaries were trying to bolster. Covering the same period, Karène Summerer-Sanchez considers how both French Catholic and British Protestant missionaries in Nablus and Hebron (Palestine) offered schooling and medical care to Muslims while expressing concerns about what they perceived as the Muslim relegation and seclusion of women. If the missionaries could not convert Muslims to Christianity, then could they at least “convert” them to believe that females belonged unhindered in public spaces? This question preoccupied Swedish evangelicals in Bizerte (Tunisia), too, as Christian Chanel shows. Writing BOOK REVIEWS 967 in 1912, for example, one Swede in Bizerte described bringing schoolgirls to play outside during recess, only to see them frightened when a group of men came to stare at them. One of the most striking Catholic-Protestant parallels that surfaces in this volume relates to groups that French scholars call “dissident” Muslims but that Anglophone scholars are more likely to call “heterodox”: groups like the Alawites of Syria and the Alevis of Turkey. Bernard Heyberger presents the report of Carmelite priest Giacinto di Santa Maria who visited Alawites in Syria in 1709. Father Giacinto described how the Alawites seemed Muslim in some respects (for example, in avoiding pork and practicing male circumcision) and definitely not Muslim in others (notably, in their beliefs about metempsychosis, or human reincarnation into other animals after death). They occasionally seemed somewhat Christian, too, as when they practiced a secret bread-and-wine ritual. Jump forward to 1855, and a remarkably similar account about Alevis appears within the chapter of Hans-Lukas Kieser on the work of the (Protestant) American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) in what is now eastern Turkey. An American missionary reported that Alevis were Muslim and yet seemed to believe in Christ and to invoke him in an annual bread-making ritual. Like Father Giacinto nearly 150 years earlier, this American concluded that the quirky and sometimes vaguely Christian customs of the Alevis made them a more promising audience than Sunni Muslims for missionary appeals. Together, these chapters by Heyberger and Kieser help to explain why late-nineteenth-century Sunni Muslim authorities (led by the Ottoman sultan Abdulhamid II) came to see heterodox groups like the Alawites and Alevis as particularly vulnerable to Christian missionaries, and why, as a result, Ottoman authorities initiated Muslim missions to them. Another important theme uniting the chapters in this volume relates to the role of European and American imperialism in enabling Christian missions and vice versa. Claire Fredj illustrates this phenomenon in her study of French-controlled Algeria from the 1880s to the 1920s, when Catholic missionaries (including the White Fathers) appealed to Kabyle Berbers and other Muslims, especially in hospitals. Returning to the Alawites in the final chapter, Verdeil considers how French mandatory control over post–World War I Syria enabled Catholic missionaries in the 1930s to proselytize to a degree that would have been unimaginable in Ottoman times. Missionaries boasted of baptisms in places like Jnainet Reslan, a Syrian village that in 1936 claimed ninety-four Christian converts from the Alawite community. Verdeil calls this period an “ephemeral apogee” (p. 367) for Catholic mission work among non-Christians in Syria, since the financial blow of the world depression, combined with an upsurge in Alawite and general Muslim resistance to Christian missionaries, cut the venture short. “Long relegated to the margins of church history,” observes Verdeil in her introduction, “the history of missions has experienced a profound renewal in the past thirty years” (p. 5). Wide-ranging and nuanced, this fine volume exemplifies and confirms the current vitality of mission studies, and does so while connecting 968 BOOK REVIEWS the histories of Catholic and Protestant missions to each other and to the larger political and social history of the Islamic Middle East and North Africa. HEATHER J. SHARKEY University of Pennsylvania FAR EASTERN Heaven in Conflict: Franciscans and the Boxer Uprising in Shanxi. By Anthony E. Clark. (Seattle: University of Washington Press. 2015. Pp. xxii, 219. $50.00. ISBN 978-0-295-99400-0. This book is an intimate account of some of the more spectacular events arising from the anti-Christian and anti-foreign Boxer Uprising of 1900 in China and from the call to war with the foreign powers by China’s central government of that time. The focus is on the atrocious violence perpetrated in and around Taiyuan, the capital city of Shanxi province, against Catholic and Protestant missionaries and against Chinese Christians. The story of the Boxer Uprising (formerly known as the Boxer Rebellion) and attendant events has been told many times. Anthony E. Clark commits himself to a narrative more internal to the outlook of the Franciscan missionaries, mostly Italian, who were in charge of the Catholic missionary jurisdiction that included Taiyuan. He justifies this approach by the alleged neglect of this part of the Boxer drama and by a historiographical tendency to downplay the religious content of the missionaries’ response to the crisis. A central point in his presentation is that, despite inevitable cultural misunderstandings, the long history of the Catholic presence in Shanxi province in its relations with Chinese society at large, from 1635 until the last years of the nineteenth century, could be characterized as harmonious. “In Shanxi, at least, there was little antagonism between Christians and the native population until famines aggravated the situation, and even then we do not see much evidence of serious conflict until after the arrival of Yuxian in 1900” (p. 107). Yuxian was the new governor of the province, who was seen as responsible for the execution of numbers of foreign missionaries and Chinese Christians. The long-running conflict upon which Clark does enlarge is that recurring between the various Italian bishops of Taiyuan and the Chinese clergy. Although committed to training a native clergy, the Italian Catholic leadership in Shanxi resisted calls for equality with the European religious. One strength of this study is its considerable attention to the European female religious who were present in Shanxi from 1899 (as well as to the female participants among the Boxers). But here, too, tensions quickly emerged with Chinese female church workers over matters such as the management of orphanages. A special feature of the Shanxi experience of the Boxer Uprising was the preference of the Taiyuan Catholic leadership for nonresistance in the face of this antiChristian storm. Although flight was countenanced, more generally martyrdom BOOK REVIEWS 969 was anticipated and indeed embraced. Clark asserts that Shanxi’s Chinese Catholics mostly approved nonresistance. This policy was not general among the Catholic clergy in north China at this time, even among other Franciscans. Armed Christians under Lazarist and Jesuit leadership held off a number of Boxer attacks on some villages and in Beijing. These different strategies were surely a factor in the resulting death tolls. Clark emphasizes the comparatively large casualty rate in Shanxi compared to the other areas of Boxer prominence. But the actual numbers he offers vary so much and the definitions of the territories being compared are so unclear (what of Manchuria and Inner Mongolia?) that the larger claims seem uncertain. The book, however, through its close examination of the spiritual dimension of the Franciscan presence in Shanxi province, is a fine addition to the literature on Catholic missions and the Boxer catastrophe. University of Michigan ERNEST P. YOUNG Il Beato P. Gabriele M. Allegra: Dall’Italia alla Cina. By Vittorio De Marco. (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana. 2014. Pp. 310. €20,00 paperback. ISBN 978-88-209-9390-0.) This book is a scholarly biography of Gabriele M. Allegra, O.F.M. (1907–76), who was beatified on September 29, 2012. One of eight children born to pious Sicilian parents, he entered seminary at an early age and soon felt the call to be a missionary to China. After study at the Franciscan College of St. Anthony in Rome, he was ordained in 1930. In 1615 Pope Paul VI granted permission to the Jesuit missionaries in China to translate the Bible into literary Chinese, but the Jesuits chose instead to place their priorities on catechetical and apologetic works that included translations of portions of the Bible. In the late-seventeenth century Jean Basset, M.E.P. (1662– 1707), completed a partial translation of the New Testament, and in the eighteenth century, Louis de Poirot, S.J. (1735–1813), did a nearly complete translation of the Bible into Chinese, but it was not published until this century (Taibei, 2013). Hence, when Allegra was in his seminary studies in the early-twentieth century, there was still no printed Catholic translation into Chinese of the Bible (a Protestant translation was completed by 1854). Dedicating himself to this work, Allegra studied Hebrew; commenced learning Chinese upon his arrival in Hengyang, China, in 1931; and in 1935 began translating the Bible into Chinese. Health problems necessitated his recuperation in Italy from 1939 to 1941, but he soon resumed his scripture studies. Following his return to China, he took up the translation work again. Allegra founded the Studium Biblicum institute, first located in Beijing in 1945 and subsequently moved to Hong Kong in 1948. He and his Chinese collaborators completed their ten-volume translation of the Bible into Chinese, accompanied by scholarly and explanatory notes, in 1966. A one-volume version of the Bible was published in 1968, and a Chinese Bible dictionary in 1975. 970 BOOK REVIEWS In all of his translation work, Allegra’s goal was to produce a translation for the people of God, elegant but readable. Allegra’s contribution in translating the Bible into Chinese is the best-known and most-documented aspect of his life. A lesser known facet was his work among the poor and outcast of society, especially in the leper colony in Macau. The inclusion of this aspect of his life, plus attention to his devout faith and spiritual life, result in a rounded portrait of this man on his way to sainthood. The biography is organized chronologically into nine main sections after the introduction: I. Early Formation (1918–1931), II. Arrival and Beginning of His Apostolate in China (1931–1939), III. Stage Two (1940–1945), IV. The Studium Biblicum (1945–1948), V. Early Years in Hong Kong (1949–1955), VI. His Experience in Singapore, VII. The Vatican Council, VIII. Final Years, and IX. A Profile of Father Allegra’s Spirituality. The book provides extensive documentary footnotes but no list of sources or bibliography. Brigham Young University GAIL KING BOOK REVIEWS 971 BRIEF NOTICE CROUSE, ERIC R. American Christian Support for Israel: Standing with the Chosen People, 1948–1975. (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, an imprint of Rowman & Littlefield. 2015. Pp. viii, 184. $80.00. ISBN 978-0-7391-9718-9.) This book authored by Eric Crouse, professor of modern American history at Tyndale University College, Toronto, is essentially about evangelical, conservative Christian support for Israel. Its first five chapters are organized around the five major Israeli-Arab conflicts: the war of independence, the Pan-Arab invasion, the second Arab-Israel war, the 1960s and the Six-Day War, and the Yom Kippur War. The book is well researched and will be of use to historians interested in the support of evangelicals for Israel and its wars of self-defense. Crouse describes very well the views of varying evangelical groups and their leading authors over the years. He cites Genesis 12:3, God’s covenantal promise to Abram/Abraham and Sarai/Sarah (whom he fails to mention) and their descendants, as the key biblical text of Christian Zionists: “I will bless those who bless you, and will curse him who curses you.” The author consistently contrasts the evangelical pro-Israel stance with what he considers to be a more equivocal, often negative approach of “liberal” Protestants, often citing articles in Christian Century. There are a scant six references to Catholic attitudes and none to Orthodox Christianity, showing ignorance of them despite the deep interest in the Middle East of Eastern Christians in this country. He often calls evangelical Christians “Bible-believing,” as if “liberal” Protestant, Catholic, and Eastern Christians do not believe in the Bible as inspired by God. He has great difficulty understanding how American Jews could be in the main “leftists” and have reacted with caution to American evangelical overtures. In this, he fails to take into account either American-Jewish history or the centuries-long history of Christian teaching of contempt against Jews and Judaism and the numerous attempts at forced conversion of Jews by Christians. These are odd omissions for an historian. EUGENE J. FISHER (Saint Leo University) Notes and Comments ASSOCIATION NEWS The American Catholic Historical Association’s Election Board has announced the results of the 2015 elections: Vice-President—Kathleen Sprows Cummings (University of Notre Dame) Members of the Executive Council—Augustine Curley, O.S.B. (Newark Abbey, Newark, NJ) and A. Katie Harris (University of California–Davis) The ACHA’s prizes also have been announced. Full citations for the prizes may be found on the ACHA Web site http://www.achahistory.org: The 2015 John Gilmary Shea Prize: Maureen C. Miller (University of California, Berkeley) for Clothing the Clergy: Virtue and Power in Medieval Europe, c. 800– 1200 (Cornell University Press) The 2015 Howard R. Marraro Prize: Nino Zchomelidse (Johns Hopkins University) for Art, Ritual, and Civic Identity in Medieval Southern Italy (Pennsylvania State University Press) The 2015 Peter Guilday Prize: Scott Berg (Louisiana State University) for “Seeing Prussia through Austrian Eyes: The Kölner Ereignis and Its Significance for Church and State in Central Europe,” CHR, 101 (2015), 48–73. Lifetime Distinguished Scholarship Award: Walter Melion (Emory University) Excellence in Teaching Award: Clyde Crews (Bellarmine University) Distinguished Service to Catholic Studies Award: the Trappist monks of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Monastery (Conyers, Georgia) Registration for the annual meeting in Atlanta and its official program are now accessible on the Web site http://www.achahistory.org under the heading “Atlanta 2016.” The price of the presidential luncheon will increase on November 1. CAUSES OF SAINTS On September 30, 2015, Pope Francis authorized the promulgation of decrees regarding the following cases. • • the Servant of God Valentin Palencia Marquina (1871–1937), a Spanish priest who was killed near Suances, was recognized as a martyr of the faith; and the heroic virtues of the following other Servants of God were acknowledged, and they are now considered Venerables—Franciszek Blachnicki (1921–87), Polish diocesan priest; Hanna Chrzanowska (1902–73), Polish lay oblate of 972 NOTES AND COMMENTS 973 the Ursulines of St. Benedict; Giovanni Folci (1890–1963), Italian diocesan priest and founder of the Opera Divina Prigioniero; Maria Benedetta Giuseppa Frey (née Ersilia Penelope Frey, 1836–1913), Italian professed nun of the Cistercian Order; Antoino Filomeno Maria Losito (1838–1917), Italian professed priest of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer; Juan Manuel Martín del Campo (1917–96), Mexican diocesan priest; and José Rivera Ramirez (1925–91), Spanish diocesan priest. EXHIBITION The Rosenbach Museum and Library of the Free Library of Philadelphia at 2008–10 Delancey Place is displaying until January 31, 2016, the exhibition “Catholics in the New World: A Selection of 16th–18th Century Texts.” Books from both sides of the Atlantic document the evolving relationship of Catholics with the Americas, beginning with the oldest surviving book printed in the Western Hemisphere, the Doctrina Breve (Mexico City, 1544). Other highlights include the oldest book from the Southern Hemisphere, the Doctrina Christiana (Lima, 1584), and various prayer books and catechisms in Aymara, Zapotec, and Montagnais. TOOLS The journal of the Texas Catholic Historical Society, Catholic Southwest, with an exhaustive index of authors and articles, is now available online through the Texas Catholic Conference, http://www.txcatholic.org/#!catholic-southwest/c2037 FELLOWSHIPS The Newberry Library of Chicago is offering two types of fellowships for 2016– 17 for those wishing to use its collections: Long-term fellowships for PhD applicants that provide a stipend of $4200 per month (submission deadline: November 15, 2015); and short-term fellowships for postdoctoral scholars, PhD candidates, and those with terminal degrees for a continuous month of residence with a stipend of $2500 (submission deadline: December 15, 2015). Applicants should demonstrate a specific need to use the collections of the Newberry Library and can visit http://www.newberry.org/fellowships for further information. The library also is offering research methods workshops for early-career graduate students; in the spring term are “Poetry as Theology: New Theoretical Approaches to Dante” led by William Franke (Vanderbilt University) and Vittorio Montemaggi (University of Notre Dame) on February 26, 2016; and “The Turn to Religion: Women and Writing in Early Modern England” led by Jaime Goodrich (Wayne State University) and Paula McQuade (DePaul University) on March 12, 2016. The application deadline for both is December 1, 2015; for further details, visit http://www.newberry.org/renaissance or email: renaissance@newberry.org. 974 NOTES AND COMMENTS PUBLICATION PRIZE The Istituto Sangalli of Florence, Italy, has announced two awards for the publication of unpublished and peer-reviewed monographs by young scholars (defined as individuals who finished a dissertation up to five years ago) on religious history from the Middle Ages to the contemporary era in Italian, English, or other major European languages. A committee of scholars will evaluate the submissions. Applicants must submit by November 1, 2015, to segreteria@istitutosangalli.it the following items in electronic format: personal details about the author with a digital photocopy of a valid ID card, a curriculum vitae, the date and title of the doctoral dissertation, an abstract of the manuscript (limit of 4000 characters), and the manuscript itself in electronic format. The winners of the award will be announced on December 31, 2015. CONFERENCE The 63rd Annual Meeting of the Southeastern Council of Latin American Studies (SECOLAS) will be held in Cartagena, Colombia, on March 9–13, 2016, with the theme “Legacies of Transcultural Encounters in the Americas.” Proposals for papers on any aspects of Latin American and/or Caribbean studies should include a 250-word abstract and a brief CV (no more than two pages) and be uploaded by October 15, 2015, at http://goo.gl/sLZveb or sent by email to secolas2016@gmail.com. For further information, contact the program chairs: Steven Taylor at sltaylor@troy.edu or Christopher Dennis at dennisc@uncw.edu. PUBLICATIONS “Condemnations: Authors, Texts, Contexts” are studied by eight scholars in the issue of Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses for June 2015 (Volume 91, Fascicle 2), with an introduction by Mathijs Lamberigts and Diana Stanciu (pp. 199–200): Peter Gemeinhardt, “The Dynamics of Mutual Condemnations in the Filioque Controversy: From the Carolingian Era to the Late Middle Ages” (pp. 201–22); Griet Galle, “The Relation between the Condemnation of 1277 and Peter of Auvergne’s Questions on De caelo” (pp. 223–38); Wim François, “The Compositors’ Neglect or the True Story behind the Prohibition of Vorsterman’s Dutch Bibles” (pp. 239–56); Diana Stanciu, “The Condemned Biography of Leonardus Lessius and the Debates on the Efficacy of Grace” (pp. 257–69); Els Agten, “The Condemnation of Jansenist Vernacular Bibles in the Low Countries: The Case of Aegidius de Witte (1648–1721)” (pp. 271–80); Dries Vanysacker, “The Role of Giuseppe Garampi in the Hontheim Case” (pp. 281–92); Ward De Pril, “The Resurgence of Integrism: The Action of the Holy Office against René Draguet” (pp. 295–309); and Karim Schelkens, “‘Le plus aristocratique des goûts’: Modernist, Orientalist and Anti-Semitic Bible Readings in Late Nineteenth-Century Belgium” (pp. 311–32). The sixth centenary of the Council of Constance is commemorated by several Old Catholics in Ökumenische Rundschau for July–September 2015 (vol. 64, no. 3) NOTES AND COMMENTS 975 under the heading “Konstanzer Konzil und Konziliarität.” The articles are “‘Konstanz’ als konziliarer Erinnerungsort. Eine alt-katholische Perspektive” by Angela Berlis (pp. 310–22), “Was sagen wir über Hus in dem säkularisierten tschechischen Kontext?” by Peter Morée (pp. 323–37), “Johannes Hus redivivus—die Blüte des tschechischen ökumenischen Frühlings” by Robert Svaton (pp. 338–56), “Das Heilige und Grosse Konzil: Herausforderungen und Erwartungen” by Georgios Vlantis (pp. 357–64), “Synoden und Konzilien im dritten Jahrtausend. Die ekklesiologische Erneuerung in der katholischen Kirche” by Arnaud Join-Lambert (pp. 365–79), and “Konziliarismus—die Rekonstruktion einer Idee” by Daniela Blum (pp. 380–97). The journal Historical Studies, published by the Canadian Catholic Historical Association, has presented four articles in its volume 80 (2014): Edward MacDonald, “The Working Life of an Island Priest: The Diary of Father Angus McDonald, Diocese of Charlottetown, 1871–1883” (pp. 9–27); Marie Elliott, “Mission to New Caledonia: The Letters of John Nobili, S.J., 1845–1848” (pp. 29–41); David A. Kingma, “Calling Them to Their Duties: William Henry Judge, S.J., American Missionary to the Canadian North” (pp. 43–62); and Patricia E. Roy, “The Maillardville, B.C. School Strike: Archbishop W. M. Duke, Catholic Schools, and the British Columbia Election” (pp. 63–88). The same volume contains the Études d’histoire religieuse, Revue publiée par la Société canadienne d’histoire de l’Église catholique, also volume 80 (1–2), for 2014. Three articles are included: Alexandre Dumas, “L’entente Villeneuve-Duplessis. Constructions historiques et réalités” (pp. 5–21); Florian Michel, “Diplomatie comparée, religion et transferts culturels au Canada français dans le premier XXe siècle” (pp. 23–41); and Éric Desautels, “Échanges, adaptations et traductions dans l’histoire missionnaire: les Sœurs blanches au Canada français (1903–2013)” (pp. 43–62). Under Témoignages three selections show “La diversité culturelle, pratiques et expériences. Le regard de trois missionnaires”: Jean-Marc Grégoire, “Les transferts culturels dans le monde catholique” (pp. 65–73); Lise Hamel, “La diversité culturelle à partir de ma pratique missionnaire” (pp. 75–78); and Bernard Ménard, “Pratiques et experiences de la diversité culturelle vécus par des congrégations missionnaires. L’expérience des Oblats de Marie Immaculée” (pp. 79–83). “Miraculous Images of the Virgin in the Early Modern Period, from Local Devotion to Universal Worship” is the theme of the issue for April–June 2015 (vol. 232, no. 2), of the Revue de l’histoire des religions. Following an avant-propos by Ralph Dekoninck (pp. 131–33), there are four articles: Ralph Dekoninck, “Une science expérimentale des images mariales: La Peritia de l’Atlas Marianus de Wilhelm Gumppenberg [1657–1672]” (pp. 135–54); Jean-Marie Sansterre, “Vivantes ou comme vivantes: l’animation miraculeuse d’images de la Vierge entre Moyen Âge et époque moderne” (pp. 155–82); Olivier Christin, “Qui porte le Monde? Christophe, Atlas, Hercule et Marie (1570–1650)” (pp. 183–210); Maarten Delbeke, Lise Constant, Lobke Geurs, and Annelies Staessen, “The architecture of miracle-working statues in the Southern Netherlands” (pp. 211–56); and Morgane Belin, “Vénérer l’image miraculeuse, consoler l’image martyre. Pratiques de dévotion autour de Notre-Dame de la Colombe (1635–1648)” (pp. 257–90). 976 NOTES AND COMMENTS Itinerarium, Revista Quadrimestral de Cultura, published in Lisbon by the Franciscans of Portugal, has devoted its first issue for 2015 (January–April; vol. LXI, no. 211) to Frey Manuel do Cenáculo (1724–1814). The life and legacy of the illustrious philosopher are studied in a dozen articles commemorating the second centenary of his death. A conference on “The Lived History of Vatican II” was sponsored by the Cushwa Center for the Study of American Catholicism and held at the University of Notre Dame on April 24–26, 2014. Five of the papers presented on that occasion have been published in the issue for spring 2015 (vol. 33, no. 2), of U.S. Catholic Historian, as follows: “The Council as Shibboleth: The Rhetoric of Authenticity and Liturgical Space after Vatican II” by Michael A. Skaggs (pp. 1–23); “‘Not a fully homogeneous grouping’: Forming an Office of Worship in the Archdiocese of Seattle” by Jennifer A. Callaghan (pp. 25–48); “‘What better place?’ Refiguring Priesthood at St. John’s Seminary, Boston, 1965–1970” by John C. Seitz (pp. 49–82); “Catholic Social Teaching, Vatican II, and Civil Rights: A Social Justice Trinity in the Fight to Save a Central Louisiana Black Catholic School” by Katrina M. Sanders (pp. 83–101), and “The Impact of the Second Vatican Council on United States Catholic Historiography” by Federico M. Requena (pp. 103–32). The issue for summer 2015 of Perspectives in Religious Studies (vol. 42, no. 2) is dedicated to “Bill J. Leonard, Historian of Baptists and American Religion: A Legacy of Conscience and Dissent.” C. Douglas Weaver has provided an “Editorial Introduction” (pp. 109–11), which is followed by “Bill J. Leonard: A Timeline” (pp. 113–14). The first five articles are: “The Spirituality of Adoniram and Ann Judson: Archetypes of Missionary Spiritual Formation” by Loyd Allen (pp. 115–26); “McPhersonism? Aimee Semple McPherson and Her Baptist Opponents (and Supporters)” by C. Douglas Weaver (pp. 127–42); “‘Out of One, Many—Within One, Many’: Religious Pluralism and Christian Ecumenism in the United States” by Andrew Pratt (pp. 143–57); “Walter Rauschenbusch, the Pope, and the New Evangelism” by Robert N. Nash Jr. (pp. 159–74); and “Charles Frederic Aked (1864– 1941): ‘A Fighting Parson’ for Social Reform” by Karen E. Smith (pp. 175–90). PERSONALS Professor Asuncion Lavrin has been selected to receive the American Historical Association’s Award for Scholarly Distinction at its 130th Annual Meeting in Atlanta on January 7–10, 2016. OBITUARIES O w e n C h a d wic k (1 9 1 6 – 2 0 1 5 ) The Reverend Owen Chadwick, the distinguished historian of Christianity and a corresponding fellow of The Catholic Historical Review since 1985, died on NOTES AND COMMENTS 977 Owen Chadwick July 17, 2015. Chadwick is known especially for his magisterial two volumes on the Victorian church (New York, 1966, 1971) and for his three contributions to the Oxford History of the Christian Church, a series he coedited with his brother, Henry, a leading historian of the early Church. Chadwick’s work for this series testifies to the broad range of his interests and expertise; his last book, The Early Reformation on the Continent (New York, 2001), took him back to the sixteenth-century crisis in Christianity, whereas the earlier two volumes, The Popes and European Revolution (New York, 1980; winner of the Wolfson Prize for History in 1981), and A History of the Popes, 1830–1914 (New York, 1998), represent his concern with the modern era. The latter interest also gave rise to Catholicism and History: The Opening of the Vatican Archives (New York, 1978); Britain and the Vatican during the Second World War (New York, 1986) and The Christian Church in the Cold War (New York, 1992). This last volume was one of two Chadwick wrote in the series of influential textbooks he coedited (also with Henry Chadwick) on the history of the Church for Penguin. The first of these, The Reformation (Harmondsworth, UK, 1964), is still in print. Chadwick’s first book, John Cassian (Cambridge, UK, 1950; 2nd ed., 1968), was an innovative study of the fifth-century monk whose writings influenced the development of Benedictine monasticism. All in all, Chadwick’s publishing career spanned fifty years of his long life and covered all but the earliest years of the Christian era. As a historian, Chadwick tended toward the empirical more than the theoretical. His writing is concrete and brisk, and his judgments arise from a shrewd, gen- 978 NOTES AND COMMENTS erous, but critical attitude toward his subjects and their contexts, not from any ideological posture. Chadwick’s work was particularly concerned with ecclesiastical matters and the clergy in their struggles to understand and adapt to major political, social, and intellectual changes that the church confronted in the modern age. Chadwick, an Anglican priest, understood “church” to include Roman Catholicism and Dissenters as well as the Anglican establishment he knew so well. His description of the battle between Gregory XVI and Lamennais in A History of the Popes, 1830–1914, exemplifies his approach. Both protagonists appear as complex individuals as they deal with Lamennais’s attempt in the 1830s to align the Church and the pope with democratic principles. We see them working through their positions in the face of pressures from friends and enemies, and responding to the threat of revolution that seemed imminent and real. We see their decisions as understandable, in some ways regrettable, but also consequential for the history of the Church. Chadwick does not offer a final and unequivocal judgment about the rights and wrongs of their argument, but we finish reading with a rich sense of the individuals and the issues. In addition to his work as a scholar, Chadwick had a distinguished and remarkably productive career as a university administrator and a public servant. He was Master of Selwyn College, Cambridge (1956–83), as well as Dixie Professor of Ecclesiastical History (1958–68); he was named Regius Professor of Modern History in 1968 (a post he retained until his retirement in 1983) and served as vicechancellor of Cambridge during a turbulent period (1969–71). As chair of the Archbishops’ Commission on Church and State for the UK government from 1966 to 1970, he oversaw a major reform that created greater distance between Parliament and the Anglican Church, and provided for increased lay participation in church affairs (notably in the form of the General Synod, which was instituted in 1970). Chadwick’s achievements establish him as one of the great scholars and churchmen of the twentieth century. He was knighted in 1982 and received the Order of Merit—an honor in the sole gift of the monarch—the following year. THOMAS KSELMAN University of Notre Dame Francis Paul Prucha, S.J. (1921–2015) Father Francis Paul Prucha, known as Paul to his friends, was born on January 4, 1921, in River Falls, Wisconsin, a few miles across the Mississippi from St. Paul, Minnesota. After attending grade and high school there, he graduated in 1941 from River Falls State Teachers College. He served in the Army Air Forces from 1942 to 1946. A very skilled typist, he was assigned a desk job at an Air Force base in Florida for most of World War II. Upon discharge, he earned a master’s degree in history from the University of Minnesota and a PhD from Harvard University. A deeply religious man, he entered the Jesuits in 1950. Given his very strong academic record, he was hurried through training for the priesthood: two years of novitiate, two years of philosophy at Saint Louis University, and four years of theology at St. Mary’s College in Kansas. He was ordained a priest in 1957. NOTES AND COMMENTS 979 Father Francis Paul Prucha, S.J. Copyright ©2015 Don Doll, S.J. Photo courtesy Midwest Jesuit Archives, St. Louis, Missouri. In 1960 he was assigned to the history department at Marquette University, where he lived and taught history until 1988. He served as chair of the department for much of the 1960s and the early 1970s, but his heart was in teaching and writing. He was a superb teacher with high standards. He held a Guggenheim fellowship in 1967–68 and a senior fellowship of the National Endowment for the Humanities in 1970–71 and 1981–82. He was named professor emeritus in 1988. He had visiting professorships or research fellowships at Boston College, Georgetown, Harvard, and the universities of Oklahoma and Washington. He played a role in building up an excellent collection of primary sources in Marquette’s archives on the relations of the Jesuits and the Catholic Church with Native American Indians. Prucha was, above all, a published historian. He published 150 book reviews and forty-eight articles plus eleven book chapters or introductions. His great contribution was the eighteen books he wrote and eight books he edited. Most were from university presses, and most appeared in both hardcover and paperback. Several of his books were revised and reprinted, notably Documents of United States Indian Policy (Lincoln, 1975, 1990, 2000). The same press issued his greatest work, The Great Father: The United States Government and the American Indians in 1984; its two volumes ran to 1302 pages and were reissued in paperback. Two of his books dealt with church, government, and the American Indians: American Indian Policy in Crisis: Christian Reformers and the Indians, 1865–1900 (Norman, OK, 1976); and The Churches and the Indian Schools, 1988–1912 (Lincoln, 1979). 980 NOTES AND COMMENTS His move out of the classroom in 1988 accelerated his research. He also had a long interest in art, painting brightly colored abstract art and building polyhedrons of red and green cardboard. Although his body may have experienced a slow decline, his mind and wit remained strong. His last years, 2010–15, were spent at the Jesuit retirement home in Wauwatosa. His health worsened in summer 2015, and he died on Thursday, July 30, 2015. May he rest in peace. Marquette University (Emeritus) JOHN PATRICK DONNELLY, S.J. Periodical Literature GENERAL AND MISCELLANEOUS Papst und Konzil im ersten Jahrtausend: Eigenständige Entwicklung und wechselseitiges Verhältnis. Hermann-Josef Sieben SJ. Theologie und Philsophie, 90 (2, 2015), 175–202. Evolution historique de la gouvernance dans l’Église copte. Un aperçu. Philippe Luisier. Cristianesimo nella storia, 36 (1, 2015), 11–27. Dinamiche della Chiesa nell’età moderna e concilio Vaticano I. Paolo Prodi. Teologia, XL (Mar., 2015), 15–28. Il contributo del concilio Vaticano II al rinnovamento della storia della Chiesa. Saverio Xeres. Teologia, XL (Mar., 2015), 29–62. Balance sobre el debate en torno a la interpretación del Concilio. Massimo Faggioli. Efemérides Mexicana, 33 (Jan.–Apr., 2015), 3–18. Cracks in the Edifice: Recent Challenges to the Received History of Vatican II. Stephen Morgan. Downside Review, 133 (Jan., 2015), 66–85. Augustin, le sens et les sens. Réflexions sur le processus de spiritualisation du charnel dans l’Église medieval. Didier Méhu. Revue historique, CCCXVII (Apr., 2015), 271–301. Der Dienst am Kranken als Konkretisierung der franziskanischen compassio. Ein historischer Überblick. Benedikt Mertens OFM. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 90–118. La cura dei malati e la Farmacia dei Frati Minori della Custodia di Terra Santa a Gerusalemme. Narcyz S. Klimas, OFM. Miscellanea Francescana, 115 (1–2, 2015), 102–46. Documentación sobre conventos franciscanos femeninos en el archivo diocesano de Mérida-Badajoz. María Guadalupe Pérez Ortiz and Agustín Vivas Moreno. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 61–168. Una aproximación a la historia del convento mínimo de Nuestra Señora de la Victoria de Arahal (1546–1835). Jorge Alberto Jordán Fernández. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 197–218. Catálogo de monjes del monasterio de Santa María de Valvanera (siglos XVI–XX). Ernesto Zaragoza Pascual. Studia Monastica, 56 (2, 2014), 299–332. Quakers and the Elderly. Alan Walker. Quaker History, 104 (1, 2015), 1–19. Die Entwicklung der Governance “in den lutherischen Kirchen in Deutschland.” Gury Schneider-Ludorff. Cristianesimo nella storia, 36 (1, 2015), 29–39. 981 982 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Slavery, Mission, and the Perils of Providence in Eighteenth-Century Christianity: The Writings of Whitefield and the Halle Pietists. Philippa Koch. Church History, 84 (June, 2015), 369–93. Religion, anti-slavery, and identity: Irish Presbyterians, the United States, and transatlantic evangelicalism, c. 1820–1914. A. R. Holmes. Irish Historical Studies, XXXIX (May, 2015), 378–98. Mobilising Mother Cabrini’s educational practice: the transnational context of the London school of Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, 1891– 1911. Maria Patricia Williams. History of Education, 44 (Sept., 2015), 631–50. The Road Towards Full Communion between the Philippine Independent Church and the Episcopal Church. Peter-Ben Smit. Anglican and Episcopal History, 84 (June, 2015), 121–65. Modern Marital Practices and the Growth of World Christianity During the MidTwentieth Century. Anneke Stasson. Church History, 84 (June, 2015), 394–420. Church Architecture since Vatican II. Duncan G. Stroik. The Jurist, 75 (2015), 5–34. The Enduring Force of the Canonical Prohibition of Masonic Membership in the 1983 Code of Canon Law. Edward Condon. The Jurist, 74 (2, 2014), 289–351. ANCIENT De la casa a la basílica. Espacio social y vida comunitaria en el cristianismo primitivo (ss. I–IV). Fernando Rivas. Salmanticensis, 62 (Jan.–Apr., 2015), 103–37. The Jesus Movement’s flight to Pella and the “Parting of the Ways.” Ilaria L. E. Ramelli. Augustinianum, LIV (June, 2014), 35–50. Die Anfänge des Christentums in Edessa. Jürgen Tubach. Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum, 19 (May, 2015), 5–25. Une communauté mystérieuse dans les environs d’Alexandrie aux alentours de l’ère chrétienne. Jean Riaud. Rivista di Storia e Letteratura Religiosa, L (2, 2014), 195–257. The Egyptian Background of Gnostic Mythology. Thomas Gaston. Numen, 62 (4, 2015), 389–407. Les cultes à mystère dans l’œuvre de Justin Martyr. Pierre Ndoumaï. Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique, CXVI (July–Sept., 2015), 81–97. Pudor et Dedecus: Rhetoric of Honor and Shame in Perpetua’s Passion. Brian Sowers. Journal of Early Christian Studies, 23 (Fall, 2015), 363–88. La iniciación en los Padres de la Iglesia: el caso de Clemente de Alejandría. Jesús Federico Polo Arrondo. Teología y Catequesis, 132 (2015), 87–124. A experiência sinodal na Igreja pré-nicena: o caso de África sob o episcopado de S. Cipriano. Isidro Pereira Lamelas. Didaskalia, XLV (1, 2015), 33–85. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 983 Candida: An Ante-Nicene Martyr in Persia. Justin David Strong. Journal of Early Christian Studies, 23 (Fall, 2015), 389–412. Eusebius of Emesa and the ‘Continuatio Antiochiensis Eusebii.’ Joseph J. Reidy. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 471–87. Why did Jerome Translate Tobit and Judith? Edmon L. Gallagher. Harvard Theological Review, 108 (July, 2015), 356–75. Adversus Adversus Iudaeos? Countering Christian Anti-Jewish Polemics in the Gospel of Nicodemus. Philip Fackler. Journal of Early Christian Studies, 23 (Fall, 2015), 413–44. The Double Bind of Christianity’s Judaism: Language, Law, and the Incoherence of Late Antique Discourse. Todd S. Berzon. Journal of Early Christian Studies, 23 (Fall, 2015), 445–80. The Poverty of Melania the Younger and Pinianus. Geoffrey D. Dunn. Augustinianum, LIV (June, 2014), 93–115. Translation as Taking Stances: The Emergence of Syriac Theodoranism in 5th Century Edessa. Nestor Kavvadas. Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum, 19 (May, 2015), 89–103. Selbstverständnis und Bildungsauftrag der Schule von Nisibis. Ute Possekel. Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum, 19 (May, 2015), 104–36. Inventing Gregory “the Great”: Memory, Authority, and the Afterlives of the Letania Septiformis. Jacob A. Latham. Church History, 84 (Mar., 2015), 1–31. “Life is Short, the Art is Long”: An Interpretation of the First Hippocratic Aphorism by an East Syriac Monk in 7th Century Iraq (Isaac of Nineveh, Kephalaia gnostica 3, 62). Grigory Kessel. Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum, 19 (May, 2015), 137–48. “Wahrheit ist Gott”: Hl. Isaak von Ninive über die Lekture der Eremiten. Dmitrij F. Bumazhnov. Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum, 19 (May, 2015), 149–71. MEDIEVAL Reexamining Gregory the Great’s Audience for the Pastoral Rule. Brendan Lupton. Downside Review, 133 (Apr., 2015), 178–204. Les débuts du monoénergisme. Rectifications concernant ce qui s’est passé entre Cyrus d’Alexandrie, Serge de Constantinople et S. Sophrone de Jérusalem. Basile Markesinis. Analecta Bollandiana, 133 (June, 2015), 5–22. À l’origine du chant grégorien de la Messe et du sacramentaire gélasien (à suivre). Jacques-Marie Guilmard. Revue Bénédictine, 125 (June, 2015), 45–91. The shaping of an icon: St Luke, the artist. Rebecca Raynor. Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, 39 (Sept., 2015), 161–72. Bede, Saint Peter, and the Papacy. Daniel J. Heisey. Studia Monastica, 56 (2, 2014), 257–62. 984 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Bede, Irish computistica and Annus Mundi: Máirín MacCarron. Early Medieval Europe, 23 (Aug., 2015), 290–307. Debating the End Times with Bede. Celia Chazelle. Irish Theological Quarterly, 80 (Aug., 2015), 212–32. Bonifatius als Prediger. Zum Wandel des Predigtamtes und zur Entwicklung eines Predigerideals anhand hagiographischer Quellen des 8. bis 11. Jahrhunderts. Christoph Galle. Archiv für Kulturgeschichte, 97 (1, 2015), 5–45. L’evangelizzazione di Carlo Magno: un momento del dinamismo missionario della Chiesa. Nico De Mico. Lateranum, LXXXI (1, 2015), 101–34. Carolingian Religion. Thomas F. X. Noble. Church History, 84 (June, 2015), 287–307. Cluny, Citeaux, and Interpretations of Benedictine Dietary Regulations. Jack Mallon. American Benedictine Review, 66 (June, 2015), 144–63. Der Codex Sangallensis 397—ein persönliches Handbuch Grimalds von St. Gallen? Uwe Grupp. Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters, 70 (2, 2014), 425–63. Re-creating a Patron for the Ninth Century. Geography, Sainthood, and Heiric of Auxerre’s Miracula Sancti Germani. Amy Bosworth. Journal of Medieval Religious Cultures, 41 (2, 2015), 93–120. In search of a Byzantine narrative canon: the Vita Basilii as an uncanonical work. Patricia Varona Codeso. Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, 39 (Sept., 2015), 173–90. Debating reform in tenth- and early eleventh-century female monasticism. Steven Vanderputten. Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 125 (3, 2014), 289–306. Apocalyptic and eschatological thought in England around the year 1000. Catherine Cubitt. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society (Sixth Series), 25 (Dec., 2015), 27–52. Entre mémoire carolingienne et réforme “grégorienne”. Stratégies discursives, identité monastique et enjeux de pouvoir à Redon aux XIe–XIIe siècles. Florian Mazel. Annales de Bretagne et des Pays de l’Ouest, 122 (Mar., 2015), 9–39. Annales Formoselenses und Annales Heremi II. Rudolf Pokorny. Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters, 70 (2, 2014), 465–87. St Anselm and the Good Samaritan Window at Canterbury Cathedral. T. A. Heslop. Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, LXXVII (2014), 1–33. Food, Drink, and the Bishop in Medieval England, ca. 1100–1300. Katherine Harvey. Viator, 46 (2, 2015), 155–76. I riti del catecumenato e del battesimo a Firenze nel medioevo. Gilberto Aranci. Vivens Homo, XXVI (Jan.–June, 2015), 179–207. Noble lineages, Hausklöster, and Monastic Advocacy in the Twelfth Century: The Garsten Vogtweistum in its Dynastic Context. Jonathan R. Lyon. Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung, 123 (1, 2015), 1–29. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 985 Visionäre, Exegeten und göttliche Orakel: Neue Horizonte der Prophetie im 12. Jahrhundert. Uta Kleine. Archiv für Kulturgeschichte, 97 (1, 2015), 47–88. The Parabolic Discourse Window and the Canterbury Roll: Social Change and the Assertion of Elite Status at Canterbury Cathedral. Conrad Rudolph. Oxford Art Journal, 38 (June, 2015), 169–87. Hugo von St. Viktor und die Jagd. Michael Menzel. Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 125 (3, 2014), 307–36. Killing a Career: Homicide and the Development of Medieval Clerical Discipline. Atria A. Larson. The Jurist, 74 (2, 2014), 265–88. Envisioning Episcopal Exemption: The Life of Christina of Markyate. Katie Bugyis. Church History, 84 (Mar., 2015), 32–63. Iconographie et programme politique: pour une relecture de la façade de SaintGilles-du-Gard. Barbara Franzé. Cahiers de civilisation médiévale X e–XII e siècles, 58 (Jan.–Mar., 2015), 1–26. Miracles eucharistques et prêtres indignes dans quelques recueils cisterciens (1170– 1220). François Wallerich. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 101 (Jan.– June, 2015), 19–40. Pensare la crociata dopo la caduta di Gerusalemme (1187): il De re militari et triplici via peregrinationis ierosolimitane di Radulfus Niger. Marco Meschini. Rivista di Storia e Letteratura Religiosa, L (2, 2014), 259–84. The propaganda value of imperial patronage: ecclesiastical foundations and charitable establishments in the late twelfth century. Alicia Simpson. Byzantinische Zeitschrift, 108 (July, 2015), 179–206. Die Visionen der Maria von Oignies. Hochmittelalterliche Bibelimagination neu gelesen. Iris Geyer. Geist und Leben, 88 (July–Sept., 2015), 243–52. The Magnum Legendarium Austriacum: A New Investigation of One of Medieval Europe’s Richest Hagiographical Collections. Diarmuid Ó Riain. Analecta Bollandiana, 133 (June, 2015), 87–165. Testing Boundaries: Jewish Conversion and Cultural Fluidity in Medieval Europe, c. 1200–1391. Paola Tartakoff. Speculum, 90 (July, 2015), 728–62. Francesco d’Assisi e il diavolo. Felice Moretti. Il Santo, LV (1–2, 2015), 163–88. The Democratization of Prayer: What Francis of Assisi learned in Damietta (1219). Michael F. Cusato. Collectanea Franciscana, 85, (1–2, 2015), 59–82. Francesco d’Assisi e Raimondo Lullo: continuità e differenze nel loro rapport con l’islam. Romina De Vizio. Antonianum, XC (July–Sept., 2015), 563–82. La predicazione agli infedeli tra Francesco d’Assisi e Ramon Llull. Filippo Sedda. Antonianum, XC (July–Sept., 2015), 607–22. Thome Celanensis Vita beati patris nostri Francisci (Vita brevior). Dalarun. Analecta Bollandiana, 133 (June, 2015), 23–86. Jacques 986 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Schichten des frühen Franziskus-Bildes. Eine Analyse der drei ältesten Lebensbeschreibungen. Paul Bösch. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 6–52. San Damiano als Modell für die Hugolinregel? Zu Gerard Pieter Freemans Sicht des Zusammenspiels zwischen Klara von Assisi und Kardinal Hugo von Ostia. Niklaus Kuster OFMCap. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 53–72. Franziskus-Exempel. Franziskus gegen Studium and Studiern: Ein Wenig bekanntes Franziskus-Mirakel, seine Quellen and sein Kontext. Volker Honemann. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 119–28. Etiam reges, Even Kings. William Chester Jordan. Speculum, 90 (July, 2015), 613– 34. Théorie et pratique du pouvoir royal: l’exemple du procès entre l’évêque de Mende et le roi to France (1269–1307). Antoine Messonnier. Revue historique, CCCXVII (Apr., 2015), 303–21. Die Ordnung der Sammlung: Papst Nikolaus III. und Berard von Neapel. Andreas Fischer. Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung, 123 (1, 2015), 49–61. Le costituzioni duecentesche della provincia de Sant’Antonio. Emanuele Fontana. Il Santo, LV (1–2, 2015), 7–48. Mediating memory: recalling and recording the miracles of St Thomas Cantilupe. Harriet Webster. Journal of Medieval History, 41 (3, 2015), 292–308. The resuscitation of Roger of Conwy: A Cantilupe miracle and the society of Edwardian north Wales. Susan J. Ridyard and Jeremy A. Ashbee. Journal of Medieval History, 41 (3, 2015), 309–24. Quomodo Terra Sancta recuperari potest. Fidenzio da Padova, Raimondo Lullo e il “superamento” della crociata. Luca Demontis. Antonianum, XC (July–Sept., 2015), 545–61. Der Deutsche Orden im Endkampf um Akkon. Hans Eberhard Mayer. Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters, 70 (2, 2014), 595–610. “Gesta beati Francisci confessoris”: Una compilazione postbonaventuriana della Collegiata San Bartolomeo in Francoforte sul Meno. Aleksander Horowski. Collectanea Franciscana, 85, (1–2, 2015), 19–57. Historicizing Allegory: The Jew as Hagar in Medieval Christian Text and Image. Deeana Klepper. Church History, 84 (June, 2015), 308–44. Shared and Contested Time. Jews and the Christian Ritual Calendar in the Late Thirteenth Century. Elisheva Baumgarten. Viator, 46 (2, 2015), 253–76. Sermoni francescani “De festis sanctorum” della fine del XIII secolo nel ms. Ripoll 195. Aleksander Horowski. Collectanea Franciscana, 85, (1–2, 2015), 83–152. Idea de la Justicia a través de la iconografia de las Biblias medievales de Bolonia (Siglos XIII–XIV) localizadas en España. María Concepción Martínez Murillo. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 7–47. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 987 The Creation of a Franciscan Lay Saint: Margaret of Cortona and her Legenda. Mary Harvey Doyno. Past & Present, No. 228 (Aug., 2015), 57–91. “Himmlische Höfe.” Klarissenklöster als Residenzen fürstlicher Äbtissinnen in der Zeit vom 13.–16. Jarhundert – eine Projektskizze. Angelica Hilsebein. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 73–79. Un’antica raccolta di fonti su Chiara d’Assisi: il “Sand Claren Buch” di Norimberga. Monica Benedetta Umiker. Collectanea Franciscana, 85, (1–2, 2015), 207–35. Bild und Text. Zu den illustrierten Handschriften der Legenda aurea des französischen und des deutschsprachigen Raums. Werner Williams. Archiv für Kulturgeschichte, 97 (1, 2015), 89–107. Una pieve nel cuore del Monferrato: «Castrum Turris». Dati, problemi e spunti di ricerca. Aldo A. Settia. Bollettino Storico-Bibliografico Subalpino, CXIII (1, 2015), 5–57. Il Liber maleficiorum della curia di Teodoro I Paleologo (1323–1325). Paolo Buffo. Bollettino Storico-Bibliografico Subalpino, CXIII (1, 2015), 59–135. Un inedito statuto per il plebanato di «Castrum Turris» emanato dal visitatore Eusebio da Tronzano, vicario del vescovo di Vercelli Uberto Avogadro (luglio 1319). Antonio Olivieri. Bollettino Storico-Bibliografico Subalpino, CXIII (1, 2015), 171–88. Science at the Papal Palace: Clement VI and the Calendar Reform Project of 1344/45. C. Philipp E. Nothaft. Viator, 46 (2, 2015), 277–302. The Seditious Murder of Thomas of Sibthorpe and the Great Statute of Treasons, 1351–2. David Crook. Historical Research, LXXXVII, 241 (Aug., 2015), 402–16. The Augustinian Heart: Late Medieval Images of Augustine as a Monastic Identity. Anik Laferrière. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 488–508. Making “Penance Profytable”: Julian of Norwich and the Sacrament of Penance. Jill Sirko. Journal of Medieval Religious Cultures, 41 (2, 2015), 148–62. Rite servare possint. Der Ritus als Gegenstand mittelaltelicher Klerikerbildung. Hanns Peter Neuheuser. Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 125 (3, 2014), 339–55. Gregorio XII a Siena: un episodio del Grande Scisma d’Occidente (1407–1408). Dieter Girgensohn. Archivio Storico Italiano, CLXXIII (Jan.–Mar., 2015), 3– 30. Princely Piety and Political Philosophy in Italy, ca. 1430–1530. Tim Shephard. Viator, 46 (2, 2015), 375–93. Building and Writing S. Lorenzo in Florence: Architect, Biographer, Patron, and Prior. Marvin Trachtenberg. Art Bulletin, 97 (2, 2015), 140–72. Rights, Moral Theology and Politics in Jean Gerson. Gladden J. Pappin. History of Political Thought, XXXVI (Summer, 2015), 234–61. 988 PERIODICAL LITERATURE A Neglected Eucharistic Controversy: The Afterlife of John Wyclif’s Eucharistic Thought in Bohemia in the Early Fifteenth Century. Marcela K. Perett. Church History, 84 (Mar., 2015), 64–89. O Concílio Geral é infalível? José Antônio de C. R. de Souza. Didaskalia, XLV (1, 2015), 87–116. Jan Hus in Konstanz. Der Weg vom Katheder zum Scheiterhaufen (1415). Peter Neuner. Stimmen der Zeit, 140 (July, 2015), 479–89. Jurisdicción episcopal y violencia en el clero diocesano burgalés durante el siglo XV. Jorge Díaz Ibáñez. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 169–96. Der Briefbericht des Frater Simon über den Fall von Konstantinopel 1453. Martina Giese and Karoline Döring. Byzantinische Zeitschrift, 108 (July, 2015), 79–114. Franziskanische Ordenschroniken 1480 bis 1517. Johannes Komorowo: “Tractatus cronice fratrum minorum obseruancie” und Bernhard von Aquila: “Chronica fratrum miniorum observantiae.” Jens Bredenbals. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 186–208. SIXTEENTH CENTURY Un intento de diálogo en la Granada nazarí: El arte para ligeramente saber la lengua aráviga de Pedro de Alcalá. Jesús R. Folgado García. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 49–59. Cardinal Wolsey and Cambridge. Susan Wabuda. British Catholic History, 32 (May, 2015), 280–92. The Best Possible use of Christianity: The Rhetorical Stance of Machiavelli’s Christian Passages. Gregory Murry. History of Political Thought, XXXVI (Summer, 2015), 262–80. Un monastero nella tempesto della Riforma. Chiara Amata Tognali. Rivista Teologica di Lugano, XX (Mar., 2015), 75–83. La construction matérielle du catholicisme allemand au début de la Réforme. Marc Mudrak. Revue d’histoire moderne et contemporaine, 62 (Jan.–Mar., 2015), 79– 102. Martin Luther in seiner Kritik am Recht der Kirche Anfang des 16. Jahrhunderts, insbesondere am Ordensrecht. Heinz-Meinolf Stamm. Archiv für Katholisches Kirchenrecht, 122 (2, 2013), 469–83. Wittenberg’s Wandering Spirits: Discipline and the Dead in the Reformation. Vincent Evener. Church History, 84 (Sept., 2015), 531–55. Corrections autographes de Martin Luther. Le Tractatus de libertate christiana d’après les éditions de 1520 et de 1521: des suggestions d’émendation. James Hirstein. Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses, 95 (Apr.–June, 2015), 129–63. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 989 Katherine of Aragon and the Veil. J. F. Hadwin. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 509–23. Thomas More and Charles V. Part III/III. – Such a worthy councellour. Eugenio M. Olivares Merino. Moreana, 52 (June, 2015), 191–235. Three Early Female Protestant Reformers’ Appropriation of Prophecy as interpretation of Scripture. G. Sujin Pak. Church History, 84 (Mar., 2015), 90–123. Die franziskanische Vision der ersten Konstitutionen des Kapuzinerordens von 1536. Oktavian Schmucki. Collectanea Franciscana, 85, (1–2, 2015), 153–85. The Language of Mysticism and the Language of Law in Early Modern Spain. Dale Shuger. Renaissance Quarterly, 68 (Fall, 2015), 932–56. ‘…Stoica paradoxa…’ Sebastian Castellio’s polemic against Calvin’s doctrine of predestination. Mirjam van Veen. Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, LXXVII (2, 2015), 325–50. Where Palace and Convent Met: The Descalzas Reales in Madrid. Magdalena S. Sánchez. Sixteenth Century Journal, XLVI (Spring, 2015), 53–82. John Foxe’s seely, poore women. Roberta Anderson. Downside Review, 133 (Jan., 2015), 4–40. A Comparative Method for Sixteenth-Century Polemicists: Cults, Devotions, and the Formation of Early Modern Religious Identities. Marco Cavarzere. Journal of Early Modern History, 19 (5, 2015), 385–407. Santos místicos españoles del siglo XVI: su aportación a la historia de la espiritualidad. Nicolás Álvarez de las Asturias. Teología y Catequesis, 132 (2015), 141– 61. Elizabeth’s Reformation in the Irish Pale. Henry A. Jeffries. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 524–42. Le soin du vêtement au couvent, entre uniforme et distinction: les carmélites déchaussées espagnoles, années 1560–1630. Antoine Roullet. Revue d’histoire moderne et contemporaine, 62 (Jan.–Mar., 2015), 104–25. Montaigne and the conciliators (I, 27). Eric MacPhail. Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, LXXVII (2, 2015), 313–23. Riforma e censura sinodale nella Bassa Linguadoca del XVI secolo: un document ritrovato sul caso di Jean Mutonis. Gianmarco Braghi. Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, LXXVII (2, 2015), 371–82. Reviving the Reconquista in Southeast Asia: Moros and the Making of the Philippines, 1565–1662. Ethan P. Hawkley. Journal of World History, 25 (June– Sept., 2014), 285–310. Wholesome milk and strong meat: Peter Canisius’s catechisms and the conversion of Protestant Britain. Alexandra Walsham. British Catholic History, 32 (May, 2015), 293–314. 990 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Vorbeugung durch Vertrag. Konfessionelle Koexistenz in der irischen Bestattungskultur (1580–1640). Matthias Bähr. Archiv für Kulturgeschichte, 97 (1, 2015), 129–51. Feine exemplarische Priester? Die Disziplinierung des Säkularklerius durch das Passauer Offizialat von 1580 bis 1652 im Spiegel der Passauer Protokolle. Johannes Kritzl. Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung, 123 (1, 2015), 62–86. Masculine hierarchies in Roman ecclesiastical households. Laurie Nussdorfer. European Review of History, 22 (4, 2015), 620–42. “Moving Mortals to Tears and Devotion”: Cinzio Passeri Aldobrandini, Torquato Tasso, and the Sorrowing Virgin. Karen J. Lloyd. Sixteenth Century Journal, XLVI (Spring, 2015), 3–27. Travail et repos dominical dans une ville calviniste: Nîmes, XVIe–XVIIe siècle. Philippe Chareyre. Annales du Midi, 127 (Jan.–Mar., 2015), 47–64. SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES From Ely to Venice: The Life of William Maurus Taylor OSB (b. 1576). Francis Young. Downside Review, 133 (Apr., 2015), 154–77. Thérèse d’Avila et Dominique de Guzman à l’aune de quelques images du XVIIe siècle. Claire Rousseau. Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique, CXVI (July– Sept., 2015), 15–48. Tonos a lo humano y a lo divino en el Monasterio del Escorial durante el siglo XVII. Textos y contextos del Cancionero poético-musical del Escorial. José Sierra Pérez. La Ciudad de Dios, CCXXVIII (May–Aug., 2015), 431–77. Enforcing Religious Repression in an Age of World Empires: Assessing the Global Reach of the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisitions. François Soyer. History, 100 (July, 2015), 331–53. England in Rome: The English Benedictine Procurators in Curia Romana (1607– 1808). Geoffrey Scott. Downside Review, 133 (Jan., 2015), 42–64. Alexander Seton, First Earl of Dunfermline: his library, his house, his world. Peter Davidson. British Catholic History, 32 (May, 2015), 315–42. Building libraries in exile: The English convents and their book collections in the seventeenth century. Caroline Bowden. British Catholic History, 32 (May, 2015), 343–82. Godly Globalisation: Calvinism in Bermuda. Polly Ha. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 543–61. Ecclesiology, Piety and Presbyterian and Independent Polemics During the Early Years of the English Revolution. Youngkwon Chung. Church History, 84 (June, 2015), 345–68. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 991 La espiritualidad de Hipólita de Rocabertí y la construcción de su imagen en el siglo XVII. Rosa María Alabrús Iglesias. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 219–45. Empire, “Popery,” and the Fall of English Tangier, 1662–1684. Gabriel Glickman. Journal of Modern History, 87 (June 2015), 247–80. Bendicht Brechtbuhl (1666–1720) of the Emmental: Anabaptist teacher, bridge builder, and border crosser. Hanspeter Jecker. Mennonite Quarterly Review, 89 (July, 2015), 405–35. Fiestas celebrandas en Sevilla en 1672 en honor de Santa Teresa de Jesús. María Luisa Gil Meana. La Ciudad de Dios, CCXXVIII (May–Aug., 2015), 375–94. James VII’s Multiconfessional Experiment and the Scottish Revolution of 1688– 1690. Alasdair Raffe. History, 100 (July, 2015), 354–73. La Tradizione degli studi nel Monachesimo benedettino: Jean Mabillon. Eduardo López-Tello. Studia Monastica, 56 (2, 2014), 333–52. Regimi penitenziali e cibo nelle regole alimentari francescani: clarisse e cappucine (sec. XVII–XIX). Angelo D’Ambrosio. Collectanea Franciscana, 85, (1–2, 2015), 237–62. Du consistoire au conclave: réseau, rôle et influence de Louis-Antoine de Noailles à Rome (avril–décembre 1700). Olivier Andurand. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 101 (Jan.–June, 2015), 41–65. Unlikely Tales of Fo and Ignatius: Rethinking the Radical Enlightenment through French Appropriation of Chinese Buddhism. Jeffrey D. Burson. French Historical Studies, 38 (Aug., 2015), 391–420. Communication in an Anglican Empire: Edmund Gibson and His Commissaries, 1723–1748. Andrew M. Koke. Anglican and Episcopal History, 84 (June, 2015), 166–202. Il beato Antonio Lucci e la sua opera riformatrice. Erminio Gallo. Miscellanea Francescana, 115 (1–2, 2015), 147–69. Un frate francescano vescovo con la passione per il Vangelo e per i poveri. Linee essenziali della spiritualità e l’attualità del beato Antonio Lucci. Domenico Paoletti, OFMConv. Miscellanea Francescana, 115 (1–2, 2015), 170–80. Martin Luther im Urteil der deutschen Aufklärung. Beobachtungen zu einem epochalen Paradigmenwechsel. Albrecht Beutel. Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche, 112 (June, 2015), 164–91. The Persian Madonna and Child: Commodified Gifts between Diplomacy and Armed Struggle. Sinem Arcak Casale. Art History, 38 (Sept., 2015), 636–51. La Pia Casa dei catecumeni di Venezia durante la seconda metà del Settecento. Pietro Ioly Zorattini. Rivista di Storia e Letteratura Religiosa, L (2, 2014), 315–77. Guidelines to Faith: Instructional Literature for Russian Orthodox Clergy and Laity in the Late Eighteenth Century. Barbara Skinner. Russian Review, 74 (Oct., 2015), 599–623. 992 PERIODICAL LITERATURE The Catholic Question, Print Media, and John O’Keefe’s The Poor Soldier (1783). Helen M. Burke. Eighteenth-Century Fiction, 27 (Spring–Summer, 2015), 419–48. The New Heathens: A Pandemic of Heresy in Late Eighteenth-Century Prussia. Jonathan Blake Fine. Studies in Eighteenth-Century Culture, 44 (2015), 229–54. La très politique religion de Bertrand Barère. Maïté Bouyssy. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 101 (Jan.–June, 2015), 67–93. Overcoming Objections to Print: The Moravian Periodical Accounts and the Pressure of Publishing in Eighteenth-Century Britain. Felicity Jansz. Journal of Moravian History, 15 (1, 2015), 1–28. A Monastic Community at Amesbury in the Late Eighteenth Century. Graham Brown. Downside Review, 133 (Apr., 2015), 124–52. NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES Trayectoria religiosa de un clérigo español a principios del siglo XIX. La figura de Rafael Crisanto Alesón. Rebeca Viguera Ruiz. Franciscanum, LVII (Jan.– June, 2015), 417–40. Habits of Seduction: Accounts of Portuguese Nuns in British Officers’ Peninsular War Memoirs. Jennine Hurl-Eamon. Historical Journal, 58 (Sept., 2015), 733–56. Antisemitische Lutherflorilegien. Hinweise und Materialien zu einer fatalen Rezeptionsgeschichte. Thomas Kaufmann. Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche, 112 (June, 2015), 192–228. Il contributo di Antonio Rosmini al movimento conciliare di rinnovamento e di riforma della liturgia. Conte Nunzio. Itinerarium, 23 (Jan.–Aug., 2015), 95– 126. “An Encouraging Precedent”: The United States and the Separation of Church and State in France, 1832–1905. Timothy Verhoeven. French Historical Studies, 38 (Aug., 2015), 444–72. The Prodigal Son: Pope Gregory XVI and a Wayward Priest. Christopher Korten. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 562–77. Heart, Spirit and Understanding: Protestant Hymnody as an Agent of Transformation in Melanesia, 1840s–1940s. Michael Webb. Journal of Pacific History, L (Sept., 2015), 275–303. Pilgrims, Paupers or Progenitors: Religious Constructions and British Emigration from the 1840s to the 1870s. Rowan Strong. History, 100 (July, 2015), 392–411. Les Justes, une autre «histoire périlleuse»: histoire et mémoire protestantes sur le plateau Vivarais-Lignon. Marianne Ruel Robins. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 101 (Jan.–June, 2015), 95–120. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 993 Religion is the Opium of the People: An Investigation into the Intellectual Context of Marx’s Critique of Religion. Esther Oluffa Pedersen. History of Political Thought, XXXVI (Summer, 2015), 354–87. John Mason Neale and ‘Sacrilege’: Spelman (1643) Re-Invigorated. Richard W. Pfaff. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 596–613. Récit de voyage et piété évangelique. Les journaux de voyage au Levant de Valérie de Gasparin-Boissier (1813–1894) et de ses deux serviteurs. Jean-Pierre Bastian. Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses, 95 (Apr.–June, 2015), 165–81. A Transplanted Scottish Presbyterian Culture: the Peregrination to New College, Edinburgh and the Impact of Free Kirk Evangelicalism on Debrecen Reformed College in Hungary. Abraham Kovács and Richárd Hörcsik. Records of the Scottish Church History Society, XLIV (2015), 103–31. Securing Religious Education in Non-Denominational Schools 1872–1972: Church and School. A Policy of Co-operation. John Stevenson. Records of the Scottish Church History Society, XLIV (2015), 74–102. Une correspondance et ses problèmes: Le P. Didon, dominicain, et la nièce de Flaubert. Yvon Tranvouez. Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique, CXVI (July– Sept., 2015), 49–75. The ‘Strathspey Spring’ of the 1880s and 1890s and the Parish of Cromdale. Frank D. Bargett. Records of the Scottish Church History Society, XLIV (2015), 28–73. The Union of Utrecht among the Christian World Communities: a Comparative Perspective. Dick Schoon. Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 105 (July, 2015), 91–103. Celebrating the Union of Utrecht. Angela Berlis. Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 105 (July, 2015), 104–23. The Reception of Edwards’s A History of the Work of Redemption in NineteenthCentury Basutoland. Adriaan C. Neele. Journal of Religion in Africa, 45 (1, 2015), 68–93. La capellanía colativa del hospital municipal de Villena. Una capellanía del siglo XX. Eleuterio Gandía Hernández. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 277–301. Piety, Professionalism and Power: Chinese Protestant Missionary Physicians and Imperial Affiliations between Women in the Early Twentieth Century. Sarah Pripas-Kapit. Gender & History, 27 (Aug., 2015), 349–73. Christianity and Socialism in Italy in the Early Twentieth Century. Daniela Saresella. Church History, 84 (Sept., 2015), 585–607. Visiting Livingstonia, 1910–1914: Some Visitors and Their Attitudes. Andrew Muirhead. Records of the Scottish Church History Society, XLIV (2015), 3–27. Wie die Kapuziner der Rheinsich-Westfälischen Provinz von den Palau-Inseln in der Südsee vertrieben wurden. Ein Errinerungsbericht. Jan Bernd Elpert OFMCap. Wissenschaft und Weisheit, 77 (2014), 209–44. 994 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Hugo Ball zwischen Dada und Katholizismus. Auswege eines Künstlers nach 1914. Reto Friedmann. Geist und Leben, 88 (July–Sept., 2015), 235–42. Hermann Muckermann. Ein Akteur im Spannungsfeld von Wissenschaft, Öffentlichkeit und Politik. Hans-Walter Schmuhl. Römische Quartalschrift für Christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte, 109 (3–4, 2014), 241–55. L’enciclica Casti connubii, l’eugenetica e la sterilizzazione forzata. L’Eugenetica e il cattolicesimo. Lucia Pozzi. Römische Quartalschrift für Christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte, 109 (3–4, 2014), 226–40. Alois Dempf. Culture and Religion in the History of Thinking. Thomas F. O’Meara, O.P. Gregorianum, 96 (2, 2015), 285–301. Eugenio Pacelli und Alois Hudal. Anmerkungen zu einem schwierigen Konkurrenzverhältnis in den Jahren 1930 bis 1938. Karl-Joseph Hummel. Römische Quartalschrift für Christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte, 109 (3–4, 2014), 177–97. Karl Eschweiler, die Kurie und das “Gesetz zur Verhütung ekranken Nachwuchses.” Thomas Marschler. Römische Quartalschrift für Christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte, 109 (3–4, 2014), 256–80. Die Enzyklika “Mit brennender Sorge”: Zollschan, Pacelli und die Steyler Missionare. Peter Rohrbacher. Römische Quartalschrift für Christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte, 109 (3–4, 2014), 198–225. “Spiritualmente semiti.” Pio XI e l’antisemitismo in un discorso del settembre 1938. Gabriele Rigano. Römische Quartalschrift für Christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte, 109 (3–4, 2014), 281–308. Catastrophe and Continuity: Martin Luther’s Historical Significance after World War II. Hartmut Lehmann. Lutheran Quarterly, XXIX (Summer, 2015), 184– 213. Un Tintin au Congo flamand au service des missions chrétiennes: Le bâton du féticheur, de Renaat Demoen (1949–1950). Philippe Delisle. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 101 (Jan.–June, 2015), 121–40. Öffentliche Theologien im medialen Christentum? Impulse der Diskussion “kirchlicher Publizstik” von 1949 bis 1969. Johannes Greifenstein. Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche, 112 (June, 2015), 254–78. “Theologies of Colonization”: The Catholic Church and the Future of the French Empire in the 1950s. Elizabeth A. Foster. Journal of Modern History, 87 (June 2015), 281–315. Filippo Rotolo OFMConv. Operoso storico francescano collaboratore della “Miscellanea Francescana.” Francesco Costa, OFMConv. Miscellanea Francescana, 115 (1–2, 2015), 181–212. Il contubernale. Loris Francesco Capovilla e la memoria di san Giovanni XXIII. Enrico Galavotti. Cristianesimo nella storia, 36 (1, 2015), 85–124. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 995 Giovanni Battista Montini e la communità civile. Giacomo Scanzi. Istituto Paolo VI, notizario n. 69 (2015), 26–32. La Asociación Católica Nacional de Propagandistas durante la fase central del régimen de Franco. Antonio Martín Puerta. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 303–38. Scottish Churches, Morality and Homosexual Law Reform, 1957–1980. Jeff Meek. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 66 (July, 2015), 596–613. La Gregoriana e il Concilio. Il contributo dei teologi dell’Università al Vaticano II. Pasquale Bua. Gregorianum, 96 (2, 2015), 319–43. Progressive Participation and Transnational Activism in the Catholic Church after Vatican II: The Dutch and West German Examples. Chris Dols and Benjamin Ziemann. Journal of Contemporary History, 50 (July, 2015), 465–85. Soldat und Mönch. P. Theodor Bogler OSB (1897–1968). Rainer Asshauer. Erbe und Auftrag, 91 (2, 2015), 126–36. Recusant history and after. John Bossy. British Catholic History, 32 (May, 2015), 271–79. For You and for All: Stephen Cardinal Kim, Church and Civil Society in South Korea. Denis Kim, S.I. Gregorianum, 96 (2, 2015), 345–63. Counter-Insurgency against ‘Kith and Kin’? The British Army in Northern Ireland, 1970–76. Edward Burke. Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 43 (4, 2015), 658–77. Between ideology and pragmatism: polemic on the civil rights of Christians in the socialist Slovenia of the 1970s. Jure Ramšak. Religion, State and Society, 43 (2, 2015), 168–83. La reconciliación en el Servicio Jesuita a Refugiados (SJR). Elías López Pérez, SJ. Estudios Eclesiásticos, 90 (Apr.–June, 2015), 313–23. Christifideles laici y el beato Álvaro del Portillo. Vicente Bosch. Scripta Theologica, 47 (Aug., 2015), 321–44. Babu wa Loliondo – Healing the Tensions between Tanzanian Worlds. Mika Vähäkangas. Journal of Religion in Africa, 45 (1, 2015), 3–36. Dom Gregorio Penco (1926–2013). Antonio Linage Conde. Studia Monastica, 56 (2, 2014), 393–420. AMERICAN AND CANADIAN Law and Religion in Colonial Connecticut. Scott D. Gerber. American Journal of Legal History, 55 (Apr., 2015), 149–93. The Politics of the Pure Language in Seventeenth-Century Quakerism: Speech, Silence, and the Founding of Pennsylvania. Natalie Spat. Early American Studies, 13 (Summer, 2015), 692–713. 996 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Mary Borden Rodman’s Register of Publick Friends, 1656–1804. Barbara K. Wittman. Quaker History, 104 (1, 2015), 20–49. “The Practice of Conveying and Suffering the Small-Pox”: Inoculation as a Means of Spiritual Conversion in Cotton Mather’s Angel of Bethesda. Lucas Hardy. Studies in Eighteenth-Century Culture, 44 (2015), 61–79. “Courts of Conscience”: Local Law, the Baptists, and Church Schism in Kentucky, 1780–1840. Jeffrey Thomas Perry. Church History, 84 (Mar., 2015), 124–58. I cattolici nella storia politica americana. Francesco Martini. Studia Patavina, LXII (Jan.–Apr., 2015), 135–49. Charles Carroll of Carrollton and the Creation of the “Three American Graces.” Mary Clement Jeske. Maryland Historical Magazine, 44 (Summer, 2015), 193–225. John Carroll, American Catholics, and the Making of a Christian Nation. Nicholas Pellegrino. American Catholic Studies, 126 (Summer 2015), 47–68. Weight of Tradition or Power Struggle? Conflict and Tradition within the Nineteenth-Century Catholic Church of Louisiana.Phyllis E. LeBlanc. Louisiana History, LVI (Spring, 2015), 157–77. The Ojibwe Renaissance: Transnational Evangelicalism and the Making of an Algonquin Intelligentsia, 1812–1867. Robert Penner. American Review of Canadian Studies, 45 (Mar., 2015), 71–92. T. C. Stuart and the Monroe Mission among the Chickasaws in Mississippi, 1819– 1834. Otis R. Pickett. Native South, 8 (2015), 63–88. Baptist missionary activites in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula: Rev. Abel Bingham. James E. Seelye. Baptist History and Heritage, 49 (Fall, 2014), 68–86. Elijah P. Lovejoy: Anti-Catholic Abolitionist. John A. Duerk. Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society, 108 (Summer, 2015), 103–21. Southern Baptists and Southern Men: Evangelical Perceptions of Manhood in Nineteenth-Century Georgia. David T. Moon Jr. The Journal of Southern History, LXXXI (August 2015), 563–606. Native Spirits, Shaker Visions. Speaking with the Dead in the Early Republic. Eric R. Seeman. Journal of the Early Republic, 35 (Fall, 2015), 347–73. The Long Reach of the Log Cabin College: A Study of the Inaugural 1839–1840 Class of the Log Cabin College in Dresden, Missouri. Part One. Warren R. Schmidt. Concordia Historical Institute Quarterly, 88 (Summer, 2015), 45–55. Seminary Life in Walther’s Day: A Collection of First-hand Accounts. Thomas E. Manteufel. Concordia Historical Institute Quarterly, 88 (Summer, 2015), 56– 70. À chacune son rang. Les “filles données” des Soeurs Grises, 1855–1905. Diane Gervain. Revue d’histoire de l’Amérique française, 68 (Summer–Autumn, 2014), 7–23. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 997 Professor Minnigerode at the Antiques Roadshow: A Photographic Rarity Sheds New Light on Richmond’s Beloved Wartime Preacher and His Earliest Portraitist. Robert Doares. Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, 123 (2, 2015), 106–39. “The God Who Shielded Me Before, Yet Watches Over Us All”: Confederate Soldiers, Mental Illness, and Religion. Dillon J. Carroll. Civil War History, 61 (Sept., 2015), 252–80. Where should we go next? A call for the critical investigation of possible racial encounters between Anglo-American and Mexican-American Baptists in Texas during the pioneer period. João B. Chaves. Baptist History and Heritage, 49 (Fall, 2014), 23–38. “The Humble Parish Bank”: The Cultural Origins of the U. S. Credit Union Movement. Mark Paul Richard. New England Quarterly, 88 (Sept., 2015), 449–82. A Woman Both “New” and “True”: Jane Campbell as Catholic Suffragist. Susanna Kelly Engbers. American Catholic Studies, 126 (Summer, 2015), 23–45. Institution, Structure, and Place: Revisiting the Historiographic Circumstances of the Saxon Lutheran Lehranstalt—Log Cabin College. Part Two. Russell P. Baldner. Concordia Historical Institute Quarterly, 88 (Summer, 2015), 7–44. The 1928 Presidential Campaign: Toward a Transatlantic and Institutional Approach to Catholic Histories. Massimo Faggioli. American Catholic Studies, 126 (Summer 215), 1–21. Managers and Ministers: Instilling Christian Free Enterprise in the Postwar Workplace. Elizabeth Fones-Wold and Ken Fones-Wolf. Business History Review, 89 (Jan., 2015), 99–124. Liberal Protestants and Urban Renewal. Mark Wild. Religion and American Culture, 25 (Winter, 2015), 110–25. Archabbot Chrysostom Keleman in the West: March, 1947–November 7, 1950. Ádám Somorjai, O.S.B. American Benedictine Review, 66 (June, 2015), 164–70. Merton at One Hundred: Reflections on The Seven Storey Mountain. Lawrence Cunningham, James Martin, SJ, Monica Weiss, SSJ, and Julie Leininger Pycior. American Catholic Studies, 126 (Summer, 215), 69–80. Fighting the Cold War at Southern Methodist University. Adrienne Caughfield. The Journal of Southern History, LXXXI (Aug., 2015), 647–74. “On the Frontier … of Integration and Desegregation”: White Ministers and the 1956 School Desegregation Crisis in Henderson, Kentucky. David Lai. Register of the Kentucky Historical Society, 113 (Autumn, 2015), 675–701. Alcohol, Religion and Economic Development in Charlotte, North Carolina: The Debate over Liquor-by-the-Drink, 1965–1980. Charles C. McShane. North Carolina Historical Review, 92 (Apr., 2015), 165–99. 998 PERIODICAL LITERATURE The Pentecostalization of Christian Zionism. Joseph Williams. Church History, 84 (Mar., 2015), 159–94. War for the Soul of America: A History of Culture Wars. Adam Laats. History of Education Quarterly, 55 (Aug., 2015), 384–87. Beyond Accountability: The Queer Archive of Catholic Sexual Abuse. Anthony M. Petro. Radical History Review, No. 122 (May, 2015), 160–76. LATIN AMERICAN Language, Catechism, and Mesoamerican Lords in Highland Guatemala: Addressing “God” after the Spanish Conquest. Sergio Romero. Ethnohistory, 62 (3, 2015), 623–49. Lay Brothers: The Other Men in the Mendicant Orders of New Spain. Asunción Lavrin. The Americas, 72 (July, 2015), 411–38. Weaving and Tailoring the Andean Church: Textile Ornaments and Their Makers in Colonial Peru. Maya Stanfield-Mazzi. The Americas, 72 (Jan., 2015), 77– 102. From the Jordan River to Lake Titicaca: Paintings of the Baptism of Christ in Colonial Andean Churches. Ananda Cohen Suarez. The Americas, 72 (Jan., 2015), 103–40. Diálogos con la Reina de los Cielos. Visiones y locuciones de una monja chilena del siglo XVIII. René Millar Carvacho. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 247–75. The Education of Natives, Creole Clerics, and the Mexican Enlightenment. Mónica Díaz. Colonial Latin American Review, 24 (Mar., 2015), 60–83. Iglesia y representaciones de clase en Argentina a mediados del siglo XX. Una aproximación desde la cultura clasista jocista. Jessica Blanco. Hispania Sacra, 67 (2015), 339–60. La Iglesia en México durante el Vaticano II: el contexto nacional y eclesial y la participación de les obispos mexicanos en el Concilio. Juan Carlos Casas García. Efemérides Mexicana, 33 (Jan.–Apr., 2015), 19–77. Una lúcida voz Mexicana en el Concilio: Don Sergio Méndez Arceo. Manuel Olimón Nolasco. Efemérides Mexicana, 33 (Jan.–Apr., 2015), 78–111. Jesuitas y cambio social en México. Apuntes para una historia socio religiosa de los años 60. María Luisa Aspe Armella. Efemérides Mexicana, 33 (Jan.–Apr., 2015), 112–23. Between Religion and Politics: The Military Clergy during the Late TwentiethCentury Dictatorships in Argentina and Chile. Stephan Ruderer. Journal of Latin American Studies, 47 (Aug., 2015), 463–89. Other Books Received An asterisk denotes those books for which a review was commissioned but a review was not received. Adler, Gary J., Jr. (Ed.). Secularism, Catholicism, and the Future of Public Life: A Dialogue with Ambassador Douglas W. Kmiec. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2015. Pp. xviii, 265. $29.95 paperback.) *Alfieri, Fernanda. Nella camera degli sposi: Tomás Sánchez, il matrimonio, la sessualità (secoli XVI–XVII). [Annali dell’Istituto storico italo-germanico in Trento, Monografie, 55.] (Bologna: Società editrice il Mulino.2010. Pp. 423. €29,00 paperback.) *Anderson, Wendy Love. The Discernment of Spirits: Assessing Visions and Visionaries in the Late Middle Ages. [Spätmittelalter, Humanismus, Reformation/Studies in the Late Middle Ages, Humanism and the Reformation, 63.] (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. 2011. Pp. x, 266. €89,00 clothbound.) Baum, Gregory. Fernand Dumont: A Sociologist Turns to Theology. (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press. 2015. Pp. xii, 138. $65.00 clothbound.) Bellabarba, Marco, and Andrea Merlotti (Eds.). Stato sabaudo e Sacro Romano Impero. [Annali dell’Istituto storico italo-germanico in Trento, Quaderni, 92.] (Bologna: Società editrice il Mulino. 2014. Pp. 403. €34,00 paperback.) One of the eighteen chapters is “Idiomi del sacro fra Savoia e Impero (secoli XVI– XVII), by Paolo Cozzo (pp. 271–96). *Budde, Michael L., and Karen Scott (Eds.). Witness of the Body: The Past, Present, and Future of Christian Martyrdom. [The Eerdmans Ekklesia Series.] (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2011. Pp. x, 228. $22.00 paperback.) *Cameron, Euan. Enchanted Europe: Superstition, Reason, and Religion, 1250–1750. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2010 clothbound, 2011 paperback. Pp. xii, 473. $68.00 clothbound, $39.95 paperback.) *Capgrave, John. The Life of Saint Katherine of Alexandria. Trans. Karen A. Winstead. [Notre Dame Texts in Medieval Culture.] (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. 2011. Pp. viii, 203. $25.00 paperback.) *De Castelnau-l’Estoile, Charlotte, Marie-Lucie Copete, Aliocha Maldavsky, and Ines G. Županov (Eds.). Missions d’évangélisation et circulation des savoirs: XVI e–XVIII e siècle. [Collection de la Casa de Velázquez, Vol. 120.] (Madrid: Casa de Velázquez, C/Paul Guinard. 2011. Pp. x, 522. €59,00 paperback.) 999 1000 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED *Chewning, Susannah Mary (Ed.). The Milieu and Context of the Wooing Group. [Religion and Culture in the Middle Ages.] (Cardiff: University of Wales Press. 2009. Pp. xiv, 236. £75.00 clothbound.) Chryssavgis, John (Ed.). Dialogue of Love: Breaking the Silence of Centuries. [Orthodox Christianity and Contemporary Thought.] (New York: Fordham University Press. 2014. Pp. xvi, 75. $24.00 clothbound.) Four essays on the meeting of Pope Paul VI and the Ecumenical Patriarch Athenagoras in the Holy Land in 1964. *Dalton, Paul, Charles Insley, and Louise J. Wilkinson (Eds.). Cathedrals, Communities and Conflict in the Anglo-Norman World. [Studies in the History of Medieval Religion.] (Rochester, NY: The Boydell Press. 2011. Pp. xii, 258. $90.00 clothbound.) Eckstein, Susan Eva. The Immigrant Divide: How Cuban Americans Changed the US and Their Homeland. (New York: Rutledge. 2009. Pp. xii, 298. $45.95 paperback.) Faggioli, Massimo. Pope Francis: Tradition in Transition. (New York: Paulist Press. 2013. Pp. xxii, 104. $14.95 paperback.) *Fattorini, Emma. Hitler, Mussolini, and the Vatican: Pope Pius XI and the Speech That Was Never Made. Trans. Carl Ipsen. (Malden, MA: Polity Press. 2011. Pp. xvi, 260. $25.00 clothbound.) *Flood, David, O.F.M. The Daily Labor of the Early Franciscans. (St. Bonaventure, NY: Franciscan Institute Publications. 2010. Pp. x, 148. $30.00 paperback.) Francis, Pope. Family and Life: Pastoral Reflection from His Years as Archbishop of Buenos Aires, 1998–2013. (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press. 2015. Pp. viii, 178. $14.95 paperback.) *Gabriele, Matthew. An Empire of Memory: The Legend of Charlemagne, the Franks, and Jerusalem before the First Crusade. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2011. Pp. xii, 202. $99.00 clothbound.) Ganzer, Klaus, Giuseppe Alberigo, and Alberto Melloni (Eds.). Conciliorum Oecumenicorum Generaliumque Decreta. Edito Critica, III: The Oecumenical Councils of the Roman Catholic Church: From Trent to Vatican II (1545–1965). [Corpus Christianorum.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2010. Pp. xii, 739.) George, Cardinal Francis, O.M.I. A Godly Humanism: Clarifying the Hope That Lies Within. (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press. 2015. Pp. xvi, 207. $19.95 clothbound.) *Greene, Molly. Catholic Pirates and Greek Merchants: A Maritime History of the Mediterranean. [Princeton Modern Greek Studies.] (Princeton: Princeton University Press. 2010. xiv, 305. $35.00 clothbound.) *Ha, Polly. English Presbyterianism, 1590–1640. (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 2011. Pp. xviii, 301. $65.00 clothbound.) OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED 1001 *Harkins, F. T. Reading and the Work of Restoration: History and Scripture in the Theology of Hugh of St. Victor. [Studies and Texts, 167.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2009. Pp. xii, 336. €60,00 clothbound.) *Hehir, J. Bryan (Ed.). Catholic Charities USA: 100 Years at the Intersection of Charity and Justice. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press. 2010. Pp. 223. $19.95 paperback.) *Heil, Uta. Avitus von Vienne und die homöische Kirche der Burgunder. [Patristische Texte und Studien, Band 66.] (New York: Walter DeGruyter. 2011. Pp. xviii, 324. $182.00 clothbound.) *Hodgson, Aileen M., and Michael Hodgetts (Eds.). Little Malvern Letters, I: 1482–1737. [Records Series, Vol. 83.] (Rochester, NY: The Catholic Record Society, published by the Boydell Press. 2011. Pp. I., 245. $80.00 clothbound.) *Hogrefe, Arne. Umstrittene Vergangenheit: Historische Argumente in der Auseinandersetzung Augustins mit den Donatisten. [Millennium-Studien zu Kultur und Geschichte des ersten Jahrtausends n. Chr., Band 24/Millennium Studies in the Culture and History of the First Millennium C.E.] (New York: Walter de Gruyter. 2009. Pp. xii, 393. $140.00 clothbound.) *Hunt, Thomas C., and Timothy Walch (Eds.). Urban Catholic Education: Tales of Twelve American Cities. (Notre Dame: Alliance for Catholic Education Press at the University of Notre Dame. 2010. Pp. xii, 304. $25.00 clothbound, $15.00 paperback.) *Jullien, Christelle (Ed.). Itinéraires missionnaires. Échanges et identités. [Studia Iranica, Cahier 44; Chrétiens en terre d’Iran, Vol. IV.] (Paris: L’Association pour l’avancement des études iraniennes; distributed by Peeters, Leuven. 2011. Pp. 235. €45,00 clothbound.) *Koopmans, Rachel. Wonderful to Relate: Miracle Stories and Miracle Collecting in High Medieval England. [The Middle Ages Series.] (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2011. Pp. x, 337. $65.00 clothbound.) Kroeger, James H., M.M. Asia’s Dynamic Local Churches: Serving Dialogue and Mission. (Quezon City, Philippines: Claretian Communications Foundation, Inc./Jesuit Communications. Available from Orbis Books, Maryknoll, NY. 2014. Pp. xii, 197. Paperback.) *Krötzl, Christian, and Katariina Mustakallio (Eds.). On Old Age: Approaching Death in Antiquity and the Middle Ages. [The History of Daily Life, Vol. 2.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2011. Pp. xx, 347. €80,00 clothbound.) *Magnier, Grace. Pedro de Valencia and the Catholic Apologists of the Expulsion of the Moriscos: Visions of Christianity and Kingship. [The Medieval and Early Modern Iberian World, Vol. 38.] (Leiden: Brill. 2010. Pp. xiv, 424. $199.00 clothbound.) *Malloy, Edward A., C.S.C. Monk’s Tale: Way Stations on the Journey. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. 2011. Pp. x, 309. $25.00 clothbound.) 1002 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED *Matter, E. Ann, and Gabriella Zarri. Una Mistica Contestata: La Vita di Lucia da Narni (1476–1544): Tra Agiografia e Autobiografia. [Temi e Testi, vol. 87: Scritture nel Chiostro.] (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura. 2011. Pp. lvi, 262. €48,00 paperback.) *McAvoy, Liz Herbert (Ed.). Anchoritic Traditions of Medieval Europe. (Rochester, NY: Boydell Press. 2010. Pp. xiv, 241. $90.00 clothbound.) *Monfasani, John. ‘Bessarion Scholasticus’: A Study of Cardinal Bessarion’s Latin Library. [ByzantioA: Studies in Byzantine History and Civilization, 3.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2011. Pp. xiv, 306. €65,00 paperback.) *Mong Ih-Ren, Ambrose. The Liberal Spirit and Anti-Liberal Discourse of John Henry Newman. [European University Studies, Series XXIII: Theology, Vol. 925.] (Bern: Peter Lang. 2011. Pp. xii, 192. $65.95 paperback.) *Mormando, Franco. Bernini: His Life and His Rome. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 2011 clothbound, 2013 paperback. Pp. xxii, 429. $35.00 clothbound, $18.00 paperback.) *Munitiz, Joseph A. (Introd., Trans., and Annot.). Anastasios of Sinai: Questions and Answers. [Corpus Christianorum. In Translation, 7; Corpus Christianorum. Series Graeca, 59.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2011. Pp. 264. €50,00 paperback.) *Nesvig, Martin Austin (Ed. and Trans.). Forgotten Franciscans: Writings from an Inquisitional Theorist, a Heretic, and an Inquisitional Deputy. [Latin American Originals, 5.] (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press. 2011. Pp. x, 117. $24.95 paperback.) Ouellet, Cardinal Marc, Michelle K. Borras (Trans.) and Adrian J. Walker (Trans.). Mystery and Sacrament of Love: A Theology of Marriage and the Family for the New Evangelization. [Humanum Pontifical John Paul II Institute Series.] (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2015. Pp. xiv, 332. $35.00 paperback). *Page, Christopher. The Christian West and Its Singers: The First Thousand Years. (New Haven: Yale University Press. 2010. Pp. xxiv, 692. $45.00 clothbound.) *Pérez, Manuel. Los cuentos del predicador: Historias y ficciones para la reforma de costumbres en la Nueva España. [Biblioteca Indiana, 29.] (Madrid: Iberoamericana. 2011. Pp. 245. €28,00 paperback.) *Rable, George C. God’s Almost Chosen Peoples: A Religious History of the American Civil War. [The Littlefield History of the Civil War Era.] (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. 2010. Pp. xii, 586. $35.00 clothbound.) *Rebillard, Éric, and Claire Sotinel (Eds.). Les frontières du profane dans l’Antiquité tardive. [Collection de l’École française de Rome, 428.] (Rome: École française de Rome. 2010. Pp. iv, 372. €50,00 paperback.) Reese, Abbie. Dedicated to God: An Oral History of Cloistered Nuns. (New York: Oxford University Press. 2014. Pp. xx, 248. $34.95 clothbound.) OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED 1003 *Rennie, Kriston R. Law and Practice in the Age of Reform: The Legatine Work of Hugh of Die (1073–1106). [Medieval Church Studies, Vol. 17.] (Turnhout: Brepols. 2010. Pp. xiv, 246. €60,00 clothbound.) *Ribhegge, Wilhelm. Erasmus von Rotterdam. (Darmstadt, Germany: Primus Verlag. 2010. Pp. 278. €29,00 clothbound.) *Schneider, Carolyn M. I Am a Christian: The Nun, the Devil, and Martin Luther. [Studies in Lutheran History and Theology.] (Minneapolis: Fortress Press. 2010. Pp. viii, 184. $30.00 clothbound.) Seek, Amy. God and Jetfire: Confessions of a Birth Mother. (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. 2015. Pp. x, 339. $27.00 clothbound.) *Sigal, Pete. The Flower and the Scorpion: Sexuality and Ritual in Early Nahua Culture. [Latin America Otherwise: Languages, Empires, Nations.] (Durham: Duke University Press. 2011. Pp. xvi, 362. $94.95 clothbound, $25.95 paperback.) *Stanford, Charlotte. Commemorating the Dead in Late Medieval Strasbourg: The Cathedral’s Book of Donors and Its Use (1320–1521). [Church, Faith and Culture in the Medieval West.] (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing. 2011. Pp. xx, 327. $124.95 clothbound.) *Stuart, John. British Missionaries and the End of Empire: East, Central, and Southern Africa, 1939–64. [Studies in the History of Christian Missions.] (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2011. Pp. xvi, 237. $40.00 paperback.) *Tavárez, David. The Invisible War: Indigenous Devotions, Discipline, and Dissent in Colonial Mexico. (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 2011. Pp. xiv, 384. $65.00 clothbound.) *Théry, Julien (Introd.). Lieux sacrés et espace ecclésial (IX e–XV e siècle). [Cahiers de Fanjeaux, 46.] (Toulouse, France: Éditions Privat. 2011. Pp. 615. €35,00 paperback.) *Tinsley, David F. The Scourge and the Cross: Ascetic Mentalities of the Later Middle Ages. [Mediaevalia Groningana New Series, Vol. 14.] (Leuven: Peeters. 2010. Pp. viii, 217. €56,00 paperback.) Tremayne, Peter [Peter Berresford Ellis]. The Devil’s Seal: A Mystery of Ancient Ireland. (New York: Minotaur. 2014. Pp. xiv, 338. $26.99 clothbound.) Valkenberg, Pim. Renewing Islam by Service: A Christian View of Fethullah Gülen and the Hizmet Movement. (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press. Pp. xxii, 288. $65.00 clothbound). *Verhoeven, Timothy. Transatlantic Anti-Catholicism: France and the United States in the Nineteenth Century. [Palgrave Macmillan Transnational History Series.] (New York: Palgrave. 2010. Pp. x, 230. $80.00 clothbound.) 1004 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Weigel, George. Letters to a Young Catholic: The Revised and Expanded Edition of a Modern Spiritual Classic. (New York: Basic Books. 2015. Pp. x, 356. $16.99 paperback.) Originally published in 2004. *Wirth, Jean. L’image à la fin du Moyen Âge. [Histoire.] (Paris: Éditions du Cerf. 2011. Pp. 465. €59,00 clothbound.) *Zrínyi, Miklós, László Kőrössy (Trans.), and George Gömöri (Introd.). The Siege of Sziget. (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press. 2011. Pp. xxvi, 267. $24.95 paperback.)